The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (53 page)

He was beginning to grow accustomed to her strange speech. Though he suspected there was a great deal about her that he didn’t know, he asked no questions. Right now, he didn’t want the answers.

“I’m fine.”

Mary set the half-eaten plate of food aside. “Well, if you change your mind, it’s there.” She glanced up at the sky, which was full of clouds. “Doesn’t look like I’ll have good weather for my last day alive.”

He stood up and took her hand. “Don’t talk that way.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to be morbid, but I do have a request.”

“Name it.”

“Will you take me out horseback riding? I’d like to see more of the countryside.”

“If that’s your wish.” He released her hand, intending to see about the horses. Regardless of her prediction, he’d decided to pretend like it was any other day. As though she were a sister or a friend, not the woman he felt so drawn to. He wouldn’t let himself fall into the trap of caring for her, not if she was going to die. Best to shield himself from it.

Mary ventured a smile. “I’ve never been on horseback before. It looks like a beautiful way to see the land.”

“It is.” He saw her take a step forwards, as though she were about to embrace him. Instead, he moved away, taking the long path towards the stable. He didn’t miss the disappointment in her eyes, but it was for the best. It would hurt far less, if he kept himself distant from her.

After he saddled her horse and led her out of the ring fort and across the bridge of the crannog, he stayed at her side. “My family has lived here for a hundred years. The crannog is an artificial island, but it protects us from raiders and wild animals.”

He thought she mumbled something about “killer squirrels” but couldn’t be sure. When they reached the open fields, Mary turned to him. “Show me how to gallop.”

“You said you’ve never been on a horse before. It’s not safe.”

“Oh, come on. I want to go faster. How hard can it be?”

“Your backside won’t forgive you.” But he reached over and lifted her on to the horse in front of him. “It’s better if I take you with me.” Driving his heels into his stallion’s back, he took her across the meadow as fast as he dared. Her hair streamed away from her face, and she gripped the horse’s mane tightly. He brought her towards the sea, letting her glimpse the deep blue waters against the harsh cliffs. Then he slowed the horse.

Mary turned to him, and the blinding smile on her face stole his breath. She rested her palm on his cheek and drew him in for a light kiss.

He knew he shouldn’t touch her, but he wanted to hold her. She eased her leg until she sat side-saddle, and put her arms around his waist. “That was amazing. Thank you.”

She sat against his lap, and he let her remain there, with her head resting against his chest. “I’ve only known you for a single day, but it feels like longer.”

His grip tightened around her, for she was right.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cian,” she murmured.

His answer was another kiss on her temple. Right now he wanted to take her back home, to keep her at his side for always. But just then, the wind whipped against them, rippling the grasses on the hillside. His gaze was drawn to one of the mounds, and upon it, he saw one of the Daoine Sídhe. The small man stared at them, his gaze threatening.

“That’s the man I saw,” Mary whispered. “Kevan. He’s the one who said I’m going to die before dawn tomorrow.”

Cian turned his mount towards the man, but as soon as they reached the foot of the hill, Kevan vanished. “How did you offend him?”

“I stepped into a fairy circle,” she admitted. “I thought it was just a ring of mushrooms.”

She shivered in his arms. “Take me back, Cian. I need something to take my mind off tomorrow morning.”

Cian had gone out searching for blackberries along the edge of the forest when the back of his neck began to prickle.

“Fulfilling her last request, are you?” Kevan interrupted. The tiny man of the Daoine Sídhe had a smug expression on his face.

Cian didn’t bother to hide his anger. “She’s innocent and never meant to offend. She didn’t even know what the circle was.”

Kevan laughed. “She didn’t tell you how to break the curse, did she?”

Cian stilled, not knowing what the man was speaking of. “No.”

“Well now.” Kevan rubbed at his beard. “She didn’t tell you that love has the power to save her life? I find that interesting.”

“I don’t want her to die,” Cian said, forcing himself to kneel on the ground. If he had to humble himself before a member of the Daoine Sídhe, so be it. Mary’s life was worth it. “I will love her, if that’s what I’m meant to do.”

Kevan laughed. “You can love her all you wish, but it won’t save her. Only if she loves you in return, will she live. And it doesn’t seem that she feels the same way now, does it?”

The words pricked him like the blackberry thorns. “There’s time enough to convince her.”

“Her soul will belong to us, Cian MacCorban. In a matter of hours. And there’s naught you can do about it.”

The remaining hours slid away and the skies opened up a rainstorm that quickly turned the ring fort into mud. Mary struggled to cook the fish Cian had caught earlier, but was afraid she’d made a watery mess of them in the sputtering outdoor fire.

In the end, he brought some of the heated rocks inside the hut and finished cooking the fillets on the hot stones. While they waited for the food to finish, he offered a handful of blackberries he’d found.

“It’s early for them, but you said they were your favourite.”

She smiled and ate the blackberries, but when Cian joined her, he spat one out. “These are the worst things I’ve ever tasted.”

“Oh, they’re not that bad.” They were, but it was the thought that counted.

He pushed the bowl away. “I saw Kevan near the forest, when I was picking the berries. He told me more about your curse.”

Her face reddened, and she found an excuse to stare at her hands. Couldn’t a woman keep any secrets to herself? “What did he tell you?”

“That if we fell in love, you would live.”

She drew her knees up to her chest, not meeting his gaze. “We met yesterday, Cian. People don’t fall in love that fast. It was never worth trying.”

“Not even to save your life?”

She bit her lip to keep back the tears. Did he think she could simply turn feelings on or off with an imaginary switch? She’d done everything she could to make Garrett love her, and nothing had worked. In fact, the harder she’d tried, the more he’d disliked her. And she didn’t want Cian to feel that way.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” she said quietly.

He reached out to her hands and pulled her to stand before him. His posture was stiff, and she sensed she was crushing his pride. “Is it . . . that you could never love a man like me?”

“Cian, you don’t understand. We come from two different worlds. You’re handsome and kind, but we have nothing in common. I didn’t tell you the entire truth about me.” She took a deep breath, knowing he needed to understand everything. “The reality is, I’m not like you. I’m from the twenty-first century.”

The confession hung between them like weighted stones. “When I entered that fairy circle, I died in my own century,” Mary continued. “The Daoine Sídhe sent me back in time here, for three days.” The bottled-up feelings seemed to overflow and she stared down at the ground. “The reason I know I’m going to die is because I’m already dead. And love can’t stop that, no matter what Kevan told you.”

He was staring at her, not speaking. No doubt he thought she was insane.
And, here we go with burning a witch at the stake. Nice job, Mary.

“I don’t know what to believe any more,” he said. “You’re doing everything you can to keep me away.”

“I don’t want you to be hurt when I’m gone.”

He stroked the side of her face, which was now wet with tears. She didn’t even realize she’d started crying. “Time cannot change what’s here.” He laid her hand upon his heart. “But if you won’t even try to love me in return . . .” His voice drifted off.

She couldn’t answer. The fear of her own death loomed closer. Only hours were left and she couldn’t believe that something as simple as love would have power to conquer eternity in the grave.

“I have feelings for you, Cian,” she admitted. “But I don’t believe that anyone could fall in love in this short a time. I believe that you may care for me, but you don’t love me.”

“Let me try,
a stór.
Let me show you what I feel.”

He laid her down upon the pallet of furs, then kissed her deeply. The touch of his mouth was gentle, trying to soothe away her raw nerves. Mary tried to relax, but his unfamiliar touch kindled up a heat that she couldn’t control. He loosened the ties of the tunic, waiting for permission to slide it away.

There was every opportunity to say no. But in his eyes, she saw a hunger, a need to show her what he felt. And though she didn’t believe he could possibly love her, she didn’t stop him from removing the layers of clothing between them. For tonight, she would reach out for something she wanted.

Cian’s body was honed, tightly muscled from years of fighting. She smiled as she traced his warm skin, over his back and down to his tight hips. He trapped her wrists, leaning down upon her, and kissed her. His mouth was demanding, fighting for her response. And when she met his tongue with her own, he filled his palms with her breasts.

He touched her and murmured, “I would die in your place if I could, Mary.” Then he lowered his mouth to her breast, teasing her. She grabbed his hair, arching her back as he kissed her stomach and thighs.

“You’re the woman I’ve dreamed of my entire life, Mary Samson.” She guided him inside her. “Whether or not you love me in return, I am yours. Now and always.” Tenderly, he made love to her, his mouth teasing at her breasts while he joined their bodies together.

“Cian,” she whispered, urging him faster. He raised her hips up, her legs locking around his waist. And once he quickened the pace, his body rocking against hers, she felt herself uncoiling, her body straining for release.

Again and again, he drove himself inside her, his body growing harder with each stroke. The dizzying climax swept over her, and she gripped him hard.

When he lay sated upon her, he kissed her lips again. “I don’t think I’m going to let you sleep at all this night, Mary Samson.”

She could hardly think straight, her body was molten with satisfaction. “I thought men needed time to recover.”

“Oh, I will, no doubt of it. But as for you . . .” He ran his tongue down the curve of her breast. “I want you to remember this night.”

The sky was grey, and Cian dreaded the coming dawn. True to his word, he’d spent all night with Mary in his bed. She was more passionate than he’d ever imagined, even playful in the positions she’d asked him to try. But shadowing even their most ardent moments was the fear of losing her. He’d opened the door to their hut and wandered outside for a drink of water. Wearing only a pair of trews, he didn’t bother with more clothing. No one was here to care.

He studied the ring fort, wishing for a glimpse of the Daoine Sídhe, but there was nothing. He’d even left a piece of bread upon the hearth, an offering for Mary’s life.

But no one appeared.

As time went on and she still didn’t awaken, he went to her side. When he pulled her into his arms, she gave a sleepy smile then burrowed into his chest. “It’s not time to get up yet,” she mumbled. “Sleep with me, Cian.”

But he couldn’t. In his mind he replayed every image from the vision of her death. And he knew, in his heart, that the moment would come soon. She claimed that she had already died, centuries in the future. Though he’d never heard of anyone who had travelled through time, he was a man who believed in magic, for it ruled him.

And when the faintest hints of the morning sun gleamed on the horizon, he went and chose his sharpest knife. He’d fallen in love with Mary Samson and if she couldn’t love him back, then he might as well join her in death, giving over his own soul to be with her in the afterlife.

The sunlight cast a reflection off the blade and she opened her eyes at last. “I have never been so tired in all my life. It was worth every minute.” She reached up and kissed him, holding him close.

He kissed her back, praying that his vision was wrong. That it wouldn’t happen this way. But only seconds later, he felt her skin growing cooler, her hands falling away. Fear entered her eyes, and she looked at him. “It’s happening, isn’t it? I can feel it.”

“Don’t,” he murmured. “Stay with me. Let me love you.”

Then her eyes grew empty, falling shut.

“What’s happening?” Mary asked Kevan who was standing before her. “What have you done?”

“I’ve merely kept my promise,” Kevan replied. “Your time is finished now.”

“But I do love Cian,” she whispered. “I just never believed he would possibly love me back.”

The small man’s eyes gleamed. “You never told him what you held in your heart, Mary. And now it’s too late.”

“It’s never too late for love,” came a female voice. Mary turned and saw Harriet standing before them. Her white hair looked like a snowball, puffed around her face. She wore an olive polyester pants suit and in her hand she held a can of Coke.