Dammit. Even her hair hurt.In a few hours, she would be one big bruise. She’d never mastered controlling the landing out of the time cloud. Granny had often warned this failing would probably someday break her neck. She looked down at Ronan, sprawled beneath her with his eyes shut. She thumped his chest. “We’re here.”
His eyes remained closed and his arms stayed locked around her waist. If not for the subtle rise and fall of his chest beneath her, she would’ve sworn he was dead. She pushed herself upright while still sitting astraddle his body. “Ronan. We’re here.” Still no response. “Ronan, are you all right?” She patted the center of his chest again—a bit more urgently.
He remained silent and unresponsive.
Damn, if she hadn’t thrown him into a coma.Mairi leaned forward and cradled his face between her hands. “Ronan, you have to wake up.” She waited then hitched herself higher up the length of hard still muscle beneath her. “Ronan. Say something. Please?”
Still no response.
She straightened, stretching as tall as his grip around her waist would allow, and looked around.Dammit.Now, what was she supposed to do? They were supposed to come here, get the job done, and then she could go back home. She did her best to ignore the sick knot of worry about him being all right. He would be fine. After all, he was immortal. Right?
She twisted and scanned the landscape. And where had they landed? If Ronan didn’t regain consciousness and lead her to the keep, how would she find her family? If she had to heal him, how long would it take him to fully regain his strength? Or would his immortality heal him? If it would, how long would it take? She could be stuck in this century for entirely too long. Dammit!
The longer she sat astraddle of his body, the more increasingly aware she became of an ever-hardening ridge under her ass. She glared down at his tightly closed eyes. The sneaky bastard.Arms folded across her chest, she wiggled from side to side. The length and hardness of said ridge grew in direct correlation with the sheen of sweat now glistening across his forehead. With slow erotic accuracy, she rocked her pelvis back and forth, holding her breath against her own growing desire.
Ronan groaned. His eyes popped open and he moved to pull her closer.
She jerked out of his grasp, rolled to her feet, and stepped away. “You faking son of a bitch. Get your ass up. We have work to do.”
A groaning sigh escaped him, as he rolled to a sitting position. “Never in all my years have I ever heard a woman use such foul language.”
“Then you have obviously never angered any other women as much as you’ve angered me.” She shucked her ungainly raincoat and wadded it up under her arm. She had worn too many clothes. “Now get up from there and show me the way to MacKenna Keep.”
Ronan didn’t say a word, just sat there staring at her.
“Will you come on?” She was tired, sore, and in no mood to be toyed with. Judging by the failing sunlight, full nightfall would be on them soon and she had no intention of sleeping on the cold hard ground of the Highlands—especially not with him. She paced a few steps around the circumference of the hillside, searching for a path, a road, or some clue that might lead her to MacKenna Keep.
Then she looked back at him. There he sat, arms looped casually around his bent legs, studying her as though she were some sort of lab specimen. “What the hell is wrong with you now?”
He shook his head. A sad smile darkened his expression as he slowly rose to his feet. “Just one thing, lass.”
“What?”
“I fear I have come to love a verra coldhearted woman.”
Mairi struggled to harden herself to the sad longing in his expression. Why would he say such a thing? She had brought him back to the thirteenth-century Highlands and was going to heal his mother and friend. The curse would be broken. Her family’s punishment from the Fates would be complete and she could go back to twenty-first-century Edinburgh where she belonged. It was a done deal. Everybody was headed straight for their happy ever after. “You don’t have to keep up the act. I’m here now. You got what you wanted.”
Ronan stood, rolled his shoulders, and settled his stance as though squaring off for battle. His chin rose just enough to clearly convey that he was not pleased. He took one broad step forward and fixed her with a look that rattled her to her soul. “Ye err in yer thinking, my love. I have not attained what I truly desire—yet.”
CHAPTER17
They were in his time now. His familiar time. Ronan already felt renewed strength and hope pulsing through his veins. He inhaled a deep breath of the cold crisp Highland air.Aye.Even the air of this time tasted better.
“Shit!”
He caught Mairi up, steadying her by one elbow as she stumbled and tripped through the slick tangle of thick grass rolling across the hillside. “Take care, lass. The hoarfrost makes the grass as slippery as ice.”
“I should’ve worn my hiking boots.” She yanked her arm free like a petulant child. “How much farther?” Her breath puffed a cloudy mist in the frosty air as she pressed gloved hands to her bright red cheeks and scowled at their surroundings.
He slowly turned, scanning the familiar landscape. The blue-green hills and mountains spread before them like muted tones of a worn hunting plaid draped across a sleeping giant. The evening mist was already settling and freezing across the ground. Soft whirls of ethereal white flowed into the dips and valleys, blanketing the Highlands for coming nightfall. The softly graying light of the horizon was slowly fading into a starless void of black. There would be no stars tonight. Wintry clouds would shield the land from the stars’ prying eyes.
“We will arrive before sunrise if we travel all night.” He unwound his plaid and wrapped it around her trembling body.
She yanked the wool cloth free and handed it back to him. “I am fine.”
He took the cloth, shook it out, and yanked it around her again. “Wear it. I will not have ye freezing and taking ill.”
“I said I am fine.” She strained her words through gritted teeth. With a narrow-eyed look that left no doubt as to her black mood, she ripped the plaid away from her shoulders, wadded it into a ball, and threw it at him. “Keep it. All you’re wearing is a silk shirt and leather-wannabe jeans. I’ve got on layers. I. Am. Fine.”
