She tried more than once to pull him between her legs, but he stayed in his position, lying next to her on the bed. His mouth left hers, then covered the tip of her breast. Through the filmy material of the shift, his hot, wet mouth suckled until she thought she would go mad with desire. But he gave her no relief. Instead, he moved to the other breast to continue his sweet torture.
Vanessa grabbed handfuls of the sheets and clenched them at her sides. He kissed his way down her torso, barely stopping over her center so that she could feel the hint of his warm breath. She shivered. Then his hot mouth was on her thigh, nibbling and kissing the tender flesh at the top of her leg. One, then the other, he kissed and teased. She bucked against the bed, knowing she needed relief and knowing only he could give it to her.
He continued kissing her leg as one hand reached up and pulled the shift all the way up her body. He ran his hand over her breasts, then slid it down her torso. Then he shifted himself until he rested between her legs, but instead of thrusting inside of her as she expected, he lowered his mouth and kissed her inner core.
His lips and tongue played her; a master musician perfectly strumming his instrument. She’d wrapped both of her legs around his back and was holding herself as close to his mouth as she could. He dipped his tongue inside her, then moved to suck at the hidden nub. One finger slipped inside of her, and both hand and mouth worked brilliantly together.
And then she was lost. Pleasure fractured inside of her, exploding from her center and rocketing down all of her limbs. She threaded her fingers through his hair and held on as he took her from one height to another. Finally, the climax subsided, and he kissed his way up her torso.
His erection pressed into her opening, and before she could completely recover from her ascension, he plunged into her. Again she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him farther inside, deeper still. She ran her hands down his back, feeling the strong cords of muscles playing beneath her fingertips as he thrusted. Her climax began again. She called out his name. He groaned and collapsed atop her.
Now she knew precisely how her husband would seduce her. And she also knew that she’d never be able to resist him. She might be in more danger than she’d first thought.
Vanessa awoke the following morning alone in the bed. She stretched lazily, parts of her body tinged with soreness as the previous night’s events came flooding back. Graeme had seduced her. Several times. They’d spent the night making love, yet instead of feeling disappointed with herself, she found herself smiling.
The sun peeked through the window to her left, an unusual occurrence in a Scottish winter. She stretched again, and her arm brushed cold limestone. The Stone of Destiny. She’d slept on it. But had she dreamed?
She sat up. Yes, she had. A very real and lengthy dream about Graeme and herself, and there had been children, several of them. Two boys that resembled their father, with wavy brown hair and lovely green eyes, and then three little girls who all looked very much like she had as a child. But surely that was not her destiny.
Vanessa remembered many details of the dream. They had been on a picnic near a pond, much smaller than the loch, and it had been warm and sunny, the children running through the grass giggling as their father chased after them. She remembered that she had sat upon a blanket beneath a great tree, and she had watched her family, laughing while she’d readied a light meal of bread and cheese and candied figs. Mostly, though, she remembered the way she’d felt: utter bliss and happiness. Sheer, unadulterated contentment.
Decidedly absent had been any thoughts of her research. She hadn’t envisioned any plaques or awards or publications for the strides she’d made in the field of science. No display shelf featuring the fossils she’d found. There had only been Graeme. Their family. And that soul-consuming feeling of joy.
Sitting in the bed, she propped her elbows on her knees and starred at the blank wall, frowning.
No, that couldn’t be her destiny.
Her destiny involved great scientific discovery.
All her life, she’d never fit in with other girls, never felt part of her family, never felt her mother’s love. It was a struggle, but she’d made peace with it, because she’d realized that was the cost of her studies. It was the price she’d paid. In exchange, she’d been sure that she was destined for legitimate scientific discoveries.
But her dream spoke of nothing scientific. It meant nothing. She propelled herself from the bed and shook off the last of her sleep.
Quickly she scurried to her room and dressed for the day. She wound her hair into a braid, but left it hanging, long and heavy down her back. Then she found her way to the kitchen, the favored room of Graeme’s family. She found her husband sitting and leaning his chair back against the wall. His head was thrown back, and he was laughing joyfully at something his mother or grandmother had said.
Warmth spread through her entire body at the sound of his mirth—a sensation she remembered from her dream, happiness and sheer contentment. She shook her head. His was a carefree laugh, one that would inspire anyone to smile.
Smiling was all well and good, but she was a woman of science, she reminded herself. A researcher.
“Good morning,” Graeme said with a grin. He moved his leg off the bench, turning to face the table. He patted the seat next to him. She sat down, but with enough room for another person to sit between them.
His mother stood to get another plate out of the cupboard, and Graeme slid closer to Vanessa, leaning down to her ear. “I trust you slept well.”
She twisted her body to put some space between them, then nodded enthusiastically. “I did, thank you.”
“Have any special dreams?” he asked.
She met his gaze and found only humor there. “Nothing in particular,” she said. “And yourself?”
“I dreamt of something, but I haven’t quite figured it out yet myself.” He took a thoughtful sip of his coffee.
Did he have a similar dream? One of their family picnicking by the water and of their children running and laughing through a field? Had he also seen them strolling together, fingers linked, sharing stories and gazing adoringly at one another?
She scanned his face for a sign, but she saw nothing that gave her any indication. And she most certainly wasn’t going to ask.
While it had only been one experiment, in her scientific estimation, the Stone of Destiny was most definitely not prophetic.
CHAPTER 19
