An Original Sin (6 page)

“Aye. Fortune is right. I dinna need to eat. ’Tis many a day I’ve gone without food.” He looked at Fortune and grinned.

He’d done that on purpose. Her stomach gurgled and grumbled its disappointment. No wonder. She hadn’t eaten since last night, and she never missed a meal.

“What is that, Fortune?” Leith pointed, then turned from the window long enough for her to see the sparkle in his eyes, feel the tight-sprung energy that radiated from him.

His excitement reminded her of her own excitement after completing her first man, the thrill when she’d stood back and realized she’d created him with her own hands. The creative experience had remained the only thing in her life to give her that heart-pounding feeling of being able to fly.
Until Leith
. She pushed the thought away as
she tried to control her urge to press her face to the window and share in his wonder.

Down, girl.
She had to remain hard where Leith Campbell was concerned or he’d run over her like one of these old-fashioned vehicles, leaving nothing but tire tracks.

“Umm. I think that’s a truck.” Cumbersome. Amazing that things arrived anywhere in one piece.

“And that?” He stared, as close to openmouthed as he would probably ever get, at a tall building they zipped past.

“An office building.” If she remembered her history, it would be another hundred years before the world discovered that building
down
was much more efficient and environmentally friendly than building
up
.

“ ’Tis impossible!” He stared skyward.

She followed his gaze. “That’s an airplane.” Didn’t people mind traveling so slowly?

“I didna know birds so large existed.”

“It’s not a bird. That’s a machine that carries people from place to place through the air.”

“No! People canna fly through the air.”

His wide-eyed wonder was endearing.
Uh-oh
. She was getting mushy around the edges.

Blade coughed. “Where the hell have you been, big guy?”

Careless!
“Tibet. He’s been in Tibet.”

Leith stared at her. “Are ye daft, woman?”

She sent him her
don’t say another word
glare, then turned her attention to Blade. “Yes, monks raised him in Tibet. This is his first trip to the outside world. They had to send a Saint Bernard in after him. Exciting, isn’t it?” What she found really exciting was how much historical trivia she remembered.

Blade had his mouth open to ask another question, but luckily they reached their destination.

Critically, Fortune studied the large store with its hordes of people streaming through the doors. She preferred shopping electronically. “We should be able to get most of our essentials here.” She smiled at Leith. “Of course, this place is very—”

“Primitive. I know. But ’tis not primitive to me.” He sounded annoyed.

Blade looked offended. “Hey, I could take you to someplace swankier, but we’d have a longer drive.”

“No, this’ll be fine.” She’d have to be more careful about what she said.

Blade nodded. “I’ll wait here with the cat. Don’t know why you brought him with you.”

Fortune stared at Ganymede, and Ganymede stared back. “I didn’t bring him. He brought himself. He’s sort of attached himself to me.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why.”

“ ’Tis easy to see why he attached himself to ye,” Leith murmured.

Blade frowned. “I don’t have anything to do for the rest of the day, so I can take you where you need to go. But tomorrow you’re on your own. Either one of you have a driver’s license?”

Fortune opened her mouth to answer, but Leith placed his hand over hers, and she closed her mouth.

“We dinna plan to be here long, so ’twould be useless to get this…license.” He opened the door and climbed out before Blade could think of another question. “We’ll return after we’ve spent a bundle of dough.”

She blinked. “Bundle of dough?”

“Aye. I must begin using the common language in order to blend with others of this time,” he whispered.

Wasted effort.
She skimmed all six-feet-plus of gleaming muscle. Every woman, in whatever time, would notice Leith.

Fortune climbed out, then closed the door firmly in Ganymede’s surprised face. Glancing behind her, she saw the cat’s mouth open wide and could hear his howl even through the closed window. Blade wore a pained expression.

As they entered the store, Leith put his arm across her shoulders and pulled her against him. She knew she should assert her independence by pulling away, but something about his protective gesture comforted her.

She felt him exhale deeply as he gazed around him. “There are too many things I dinna understand. ’Tis passing strange.”

Amen.
She doubted she could answer all his questions. The solid strength of him beside her seemed to be the only thing keeping her upright. Without him, she’d probably plop herself down in the middle of the aisle between “curling irons” and “hair dryers,” then bawl out her confusion. And to think just a short time ago he was the strangest thing in her universe.

“Fortune, dinna look around, but someone is following us.”

She looked around. “What? Where?”

“God’s teeth, woman, when will ye learn to obey?”

“Never. Now who’s following us?”

“I dinna know, but with a piece of yer dough hanging from yer pocket, ’tis like the stink of carrion to a buzzard.”

“Oh.” She stuck the money back in her pocket. “I’m sure no one’s following us. You see criminals around every corner. It’s called having a suspicious mind.” She paused at a display. What did you do with an “ironing board”? Maybe you used it with your “curling iron.” Why would anyone want to iron curls?

“ ’Tis called having a warrior’s instincts.” He glanced over his shoulder, then relaxed. “The man is gone.” He pulled her even closer against him. “Ye trust too easily.
Ye need protection more than any woman I’ve ever known.”

“Primitive reasoning.” But her insult lacked bite because the heat from his body was doing its thing, and she was finding it hard to concentrate.

“ ’Tis amazing! Light wi’ no flame. Voices that come from the air. What is a blue-light special?” He grinned at her, making her heart bounce up and down with enthusi-astic appreciation. “I favor a time where women show their legs almost up to their bottoms. Mayhap ye can—”

“No.” Why should showing her legs bother her when he’d seen all she had to offer? Somehow, the more she knew him, the more she became aware of her body…his body…

“This time has wondrous things.” He reached into a bin and pulled out a wisp of silky red material. Before she could react, he held it against her lower body. “Aye, they’ll look fine on ye, lass. Ye can purchase three for two dollars.”

“Well, yes, I suppose so.” They were only panties, nothing to get excited over. But the pressure of his hand against her lower stomach…She must be glowing like a Martian sunset. She quickly pulled out three white panties.

Gently he put his hand over hers. “Dinna buy white. Ye would look bonny in colors.”

She freed her hand. “What does the color matter? You won’t see them.”

He smiled. “Aye, but I can imagine.”

“Then you can imagine white.” Cool white. Calm white.

Shrugging, he wandered over to another bin.

Making sure he wasn’t looking, she put the white panties back. Colored ones
were
prettier. She wouldn’t think about why
prettier
should matter now when it never had
before. Just this once. She pulled out a blue pair, a black pair, and…a red pair, then balled them up in her fist so he wouldn’t see. Somehow she didn’t want to give him even this small triumph.

Trying for casual, she joined him beside another bin.

He glanced down at her with heavy-lidded intensity; then he smiled—a wicked grin her body understood instantly even as her mind fought the good fight. “I’ll enjoy sliding the red ones over yer smooth thighs and down yer long legs.”

“And what virtual world will you be visiting when this happens?” She tried to ignore the mental picture of his hands touching her, the sensation of his fingers…

He frowned. “I dinna know what a virtual world is, but I must do penance before I can return to Scotland.”

Now it was her turn to be puzzled. “Penance? What does penance have to with anything?”

His expression cleared, and he smiled. “Ye’re right. ’Twill be no penance at all.”

Somehow she’d lost control of this conversation.

Glancing down, she studied the contents of the bin beside them. Bras. Braving more comments from an intensely interested Leith, she defiantly grabbed three white ones.

“What are those?” The evil glitter in his eyes told her he knew exactly what
those
were.

“Bras.” If he could play games, so could she. “Bras have a force field that’s activated by the wearer’s body heat. If someone touches me, poof, the toucher disappears.”
Careful
. Violent images were not healthful images.

His playfulness vanished. “And who would ye fear touching ye, lass?”

You
. “Who, indeed?” Time for a dignified retreat. “Wait here while I try on these bras.” Relieved, she quickly escaped behind the curtain of a small dressing room.

Stripping off her jeans and shirt, she hung them on a hook, then slid on the red panties. For some reason they made her feel…protected.
Protected? Against what? Not what, whom. Leith.
No way did he have so much power over her, but she still couldn’t bear to remove the panties. She’d tell the clerk she was wearing them and pay when she left.

Without warning, someone ripped open the curtain. Even as she instinctively crossed her hands over her breasts, a sense of inevitability overwhelmed her. “Jupiter’s balls! Don’t you dare look, Leith Campbell. Get out of here. Close the curtain.”

From his dazed expression, she guessed he didn’t know which command to obey first.

“Jupiter’s balls?”

“I
never
use that kind of language, but you make me so…Get out!”

Carefully he pulled the curtain closed behind him.
No
. That wasn’t the command she’d wanted him to obey first.

“I chose a bra for ye.” He dangled a piece of cloth from two fingers. He looked uncertain. She refused to melt even a little bit. He’d be lucky if she didn’t remove his fingers along with the bra. “I meant only to hand it through the curtain, but then I spied the tail.”

“Tail?” Fortune glanced down. Ganymede. Could a cat smile?

She glared at Ganymede. “Scat!”

Flattening his ears, whipping his tail from side to side, and growling his dis pleasure, he stalked from the room. Fortune wondered how well “scat” would work on Leith.

“How’d he get out of the taxi? You have to take him back.” She glanced longingly at her shirt and jeans. Could she get them on without exposing her breasts to Leith’s view? One look at his predatory gaze told her he hoped she’d try.

“But the bra…” He held it up. Only one finger this time.
Smart man
.

“There’s nothing to it, just a little piece of lace. And can’t you pick something that isn’t red?”

His expression turned hurt, vulnerable,
practiced
. “Ye dinna like my choice?”

“Oh, it’s very pretty, but I need a little more support, and…” Unbelievable. Even knowing his expression was fake, she was trying not to hurt his feelings. Where was her backbone? If it had disappeared, it was probably one of the only things Leith couldn’t see right now.
Clothes
. She had to get dressed.

She watched, frozen like a small animal caught in the path of a hypnobeam, as he calmly hung the red bra on an empty hook.

Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. “Ye dinna need support. Yer beauty should be free. The red bra will cup ye like a lover’s hand. And the sign says the cloth breathes wi’ ye.” His soft murmur against the side of her neck wrapped around her like the silken threads of a cocoon.
Breathes. Yes.
That was good, because she wasn’t doing such a great job of breathing on her own right now.

He moved back, his heated gaze promising, enticing, as he gently forced her hands away from her breasts. And she let him.

“Yer beauty would shine in any time, lass.” He reached out to trace the line of her jaw with his fingertip.

She dragged a deep breath into her oxygen-starved lungs. If she could just breathe, she could move—could shatter whatever spell he’d woven.

His gaze followed the movement of her breasts as she breathed, and he groaned. The sound was an extension of his touch. Her nipples pebbled, yearning for his caress, the warmth of his mouth, and dark heat pooled within her.

Look away
. She had to escape the searing need he’d loosed in her—powerful, compelling.

Swallowing hard, she glanced down. The fabric of his jeans stretched tightly across his arousal, an arousal that would do justice to her best creative efforts. But no man she’d ever made had tempted her to touch, to feel.

Her hand seemed detached from her will as she reached for him. Her mind’s strident commands to stop had no effect.

She molded her palm to his length and felt it pulse, grow. Her lips tilted as an errant thought intruded. If he grew any larger his jeans would explode in a fiery display of cloth and metal teeth. She squeezed gently to see if it would happen.

With a sound that resembled a feral growl, he lowered his head and touched one nipple with his tongue.

His touch was exquisite pleasure, exquisite pain, flinging wide the locked door of long-denied desire.

She closed her eyes and threw back her head. She breathed in small pants through slightly parted lips.
Now. Let it happen now. She’d think later, much later.

“Bloody hell.”

His harsh mutter spoke of lost control.
Yes.
She felt the siren call of danger, the thrill of all those who’d hunted the long-extinct tiger.

His arms enfolded her, pulled her tightly to him. The scrape of her nipples against his shirt wrung a moan from her. She opened her eyes to the wonders of sensations she’d only imagined, never thought existed.

Lowering his head, he captured her lips. As he traced them with his tongue, she opened her mouth to the pleasure, allowing him to explore further, deeper.