My Familiar Stranger (44 page)

“How did you know I don’t like it? I never said.”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Tis my job to pay attention to you, Elora.”

“Do Storm and Kay know? About your, uh, family?”

“Aye. We spend a lot of time together. There’s little we do no’ know about each other.” After a short pause he added, “Probably.”

He hastily finished putting cups, cream, sugar, and spoons on an old, wood tray in need of refinishing and carried them back to the main room. Setting the tray on the tree stump table, he had no trouble deciding where to sit. Elora had finally chosen a perch at the end of the sofa nearest the door. He pulled the ottoman over and sat facing her, close enough that his knees were almost touching hers.

“The water will be hot in a minute or so.”

She looked at the kettle hanging above the fire. Something about the proximity and calm confidence of Ram’s voice suddenly caused a sense of peace to wash over Elora, a feeling that everything about the moment was right; the utter quiet of a cold, gray, snowy day in a land without noise, the serenity of an ancient cottage with a happy fire in the middle of a medieval forest, and the sweet, sweet intimacy of having Rammel Hawking there, all to herself.

How strange it was to be in a place she’d never seen before and feel so at home. That’s when she realized it wasn’t the place that made her feel like she’d come home. It was the elf. How she had missed him!

At some point during her reverie he had moved closer and lightly rested his hands on her knees. One thumb was absently drawing little circles on the inside of her lower thigh as he studied her face. He always left her alone when he saw her eyes glaze over and knew she was away on some private, inner journey where she sorted things out. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she jumped when the tea kettle began to whistle. To be fair, it was as loud as a train. Ram laughed in that open, unguarded way she loved.

“Welcome back,” he teased as he rose to fetch the kettle. He named the various kinds of tea he had on hand adding that he had also stocked a very fine hot chocolate just in case she should be there someday.

“Yes, indeed,” she smiled. “I would like some of your very fine, hot chocolate, Sir Hawking.”

“Your wish is my pleasure, Lady Laiken,” he said as he carefully poured hot water over her chocolate and stirred before handing her the cup. “I also have biscuits.” He motioned to the plate of baked goodies.

“Those are cookies.”

“No’ here. Here, they are biscuits.”

He began to steep some Irish Breakfast Tea for himself, then turned toward her again, “And now you will tell me the details of how my good fortune has blessed me with the privilege of servin’ you chocolate on this fine winter day.”

She took a sip of liquid bliss then returned her cup and saucer to the tray.

“I was actually on the tarmac, ready to leave with Storm. The jet had landed and was taxiing.” He grew solemn, but nodded encouragement for her to continue. “He kissed me. For the first time.”

She noticed Ram’s shoulders tense and his fingers curled under even though his expression remained the same. “And what happened was strange. I have no explanation and probably never will. It gave me a jolt - like an electrical jolt - that felt real and physically painful. In the space of a couple of seconds I saw this parade of images, all memories of you, including the night we, um, found out that aphrodisiacs are not a myth.”

Ram worked at keeping his face blank. He was too interested in hearing the rest of this to interrupt.

She let out a big sigh. “I couldn’t go with Storm. You were right. It wouldn’t be fair to him because I don’t know how to be happy without you.” Looking at Ram she was momentarily mesmerized by the illumination of his face by firelight and the way he searched her eyes. “And it wouldn’t be fair to you because...”

In one motion he rose, pulling her up with him, took her in his arms and held on like the salvation she was. As he leaned forward to crush a kiss to her mouth, she arched her body toward his, holding back nothing and nothing had ever felt so natural, like such a perfect fit. It was as if they had been cast in a mold as a pair, then separated, and were now reunited. Suddenly she broke the kiss and pulled away.

“There’s a reason why I was leaving, Ram, why I was going to be gone before you got back. Because I can’t do palace life. No matter how I feel about you, I can never go back to that. It swallows me up. It smothers me. And it’s possible you could be king someday.”

“Elora,” Ram gently pulled her back against him, “you must have faith that we’re well matched. I’ll no’ ask you to do anythin’ you do no’ want. Ever. If you ne’er want to set foot in my brother’s house, then we will no’. If circumstances put kingship in my path and you asked me to pass on the crown, I’d be glad for it.”

Elora tilted her head to the side. “You have that choice?” She studied his face. “Liam told me you used to run away.”

“Aye. Understand this. The only person who can force me to do anythin’ is you.”

“Really?”

He thought perhaps she sounded a bit too intrigued by the possibilities. But no matter. There was nothing he would deny her.

As she stepped back into the haven of his body, he enveloped her in arms. It made her feel sexy and beautiful, but, oddly, even though she knew she was physically stronger, it made her feel safe and protected. She buried her face in his neck where she could drag in even more of his erotic smell.

He chuckled in response. “So you will no’ be needin’ a ride to the town then.”

It was not a question, but she raised her face and opened her mouth to reply. Whatever she intended to say was muffled by a kiss ever so much more potent than memory had served. As her tongue tangled with his and her breath came faster, she purred sounds of approval followed by a gasp as a warm hand reached beneath her sweater to cover a breast and run a thumb over one of the taut nipples that was begging to be touched.

She drew back. “Just a minute.” She leaned away and bent to retrieve her backpack, fumbled around inside for a minute, then, with a flourish, she triumphantly withdrew three long strips, each containing a dozen condoms of neon yellow, orange, and pink. She waved them in the air. “Heart Throbs. Guaranteed feminine satisfaction.” She seemed so pleased with herself.

Ram first looked confused, then offended. “And you do no’ think I can guarantee feminine satisfaction?”

She laughed. “I know you can, but we need protection. I mean, I guess we got lucky last time, but…” Ram looked down at the ridiculously colorful circles trailing from her hand, indulged in a moment of pride when he noticed that she had bought extra large.
She does remember that night.
Then the gravity of the situation returned and he let out a big sigh.

She looked deflated. “What is it, Ram?”

“Elves and humans mate rarely. When they do, there is no procreation.”

She searched his face. “We won’t have children?”

He solemnly shook his head no. Elora’s knees felt a little slushy. Sinking down on the couch, she hadn’t realized she really wanted children until she was told there wouldn’t be any. Ram sat on the ottoman in front of her as she did a replay in her head.

“So that’s why you said having children wasn’t important.”

His brows drew together for a moment as he looked away trying to place the reference. Then he remembered.

“Our day in Manhattan. Aye. I said 'tis no’ important. And I meant it.”

“You’re not disappointed?”

“Disappointed! My darlin’ girl, I’m the farthest thing from that. I consider myself to be the luckiest elf in the world.” She reached out with her intuition and knew he was telling the truth. He took her hand in his, raised her knuckles to his lips and kissed them. “Besides, there are little ones who are left alone in the world through no fault of their own. We could be their mum and da. Make them ours.”

Her heart melted into a pile of mush and she blinked a little mist from her eyes. She reached up and traced the scar running down the side of his face that would forever be a graphic testament to extraordinary courage and selflessness, the very essence of Black Swan.
Ram isn’t just heroic. He’s epic.

She smiled. “Adopt.”

“Aye. Adopt.”

“There’s really nothing about you that isn’t wonderful, is there?”

He grinned. “No. There’s no’.” He pulled her to her feet again, pressed her close, and grew serious. “We’ll be happy, Elora. I swear it.”

It was an oath she knew would be kept. There would be no power that could stop him from finding the way to their happiness once he made it his quest.

“And there’s another benefit to being elf and human.”

“What is it?”

“I do no’ think I could remain erect while wearing tart pink or fiery orange.”

“But lime yellow works for you?” She laughed. “Well, I guess that gives us some time to get to know each other, just the two of us.”

“All the better to have my way with you, my dear.” He smiled his wolfish smile and nuzzled her neck.

“The night I was drugged, you said you wanted the first time to be… not like that.”

“Aye. I did say that.” He was studiously playing with the pearl buttons on her sweater.

“So show me what you had in mind.”

“Can no’.”

“Why no’?” She teased mimicking his accent.

“Because, all those nights I was lying in my bed alone thinkin’ about bein’ with you, what I pictured was a slow burn savorin’ of every inch of your heavenly body. But, these past days, I thought you were lost to me… was like years in hell. I do no’ think I’m good for anythin’ right now but hard and fast.” He bit his bottom lip. “I need you to wrap yourself around me and hold on tight while I pound into you, balls flyin’, both of us knowin’ beyond question that you’re mine.”

Elora’s eyes widened as she processed that image. Her lips parted as her gaze transfixed on his mouth which was suddenly spellbinding. “That,” she swallowed, “sounds good, too.”

In less than a minute they were free of clothes, falling onto the bed together.

Skin to skin, their bodies had minds of their own, desperate for each other. Elora arched and bucked involuntarily with every sensual touch. He took her in one savage thrust with a ferocity that stopped just short of ravishing and she reveled in the intensity of his need. Without warning he withdrew.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the sound was drowned by a strangled cry when he found her sensitive, swollen nub and began stirring tiny circles with his finger. Just as she started to come, he drove back into her so that they would peak together. He roared his release like a tribute to the Fates who brought his mate back to him, then collapsed, feeling foolish for having to control the urge to sob in gratitude and relief.

After some time he raised his head and gloried in the love he saw shining back at him through half closed turquoise eyes.
Sunshine on a Bahamian sea.
Then he asked out loud what he needed to know.

“Are you mine then?”

“Completely.” She answered with a half smile and not the slightest hesitation.

As the short northern day gave way to darkness, Ram rose and closed the shutters. He stoked the coals and added more logs, then rekindled a second, small fire in the kitchen. As she watched him move around the cottage, she thought that she had not known it was possible for a person to be so utterly unself-conscious about nudity, but supposed it must be one of the derivative benefits of owning physical perfection.

Ram took the cushions from the sofa and put them in front of the fire, then brought half a roast chicken, bread, cheese, and ale on a tray. Elora joined him with the sable throw drawn around her, partly for warmth and partly to hide blemished skin that was not completely healed. They ate by firelight, without utensils, and wiped their hands on linen dish towels while Ram entertained her with stories of his adventures when he sometimes lived alone in the woods as a child. Occasionally Ram fed her something by hand which was curiously arousing.

When they had finished eating, he pulled the sable throw away, noting that her hands immediately flew to cover the red marks where her wounds had not faded. Seeing that she felt shame about her body made his heart seize like it was pinched in a vice grip. He spread the fur over the make shift bed he’d fashioned from cushions.

“Now let’s see about the savorin’.”

Ram was meticulously thorough, painstaking in his mission to savor lovemaking with Elora. No erogenous nerve ending was left unexplored. True to his promise, it was slow. And just as true to his promise, it burned, igniting new emotions in Elora that were untried feelings so raw they made her ache for something she could not call by any name other than “more”. Every sensation was stretched to its limit, every emotion intensified as they delighted in the sweet intoxication of mating.

He lingered on each and every sign of trauma with single minded devotion as if he could kiss the wounds better. She felt tears burn as she watched him lovingly minister to her defaced body. Now and then he would pause and look at her face with an expression that could only be compared to reverence.