Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (106 page)

’
Twas then he recalled his
intent to wish while he kissed her, and his failure to do so. Niall
caught his breath and rolled to his back at his inevitable
realization.

She had fooled him again!

Aye, the moment his lips touched hers, Niall
had forgotten to take Viviane back to Cantlecroft! How could he
have forgotten his pledge? How could he have failed in his task,
again?

He had been bewitched.

That was the simple truth of it. Niall could
find no other explanation, though this one made his innards writhe.
Nay, he was neither a man to did not cleave to his duty, nor a man
who could not be relied upon. Niall always did what he pledged to
do.

The fact that he had not could only be due
to forces beyond his control. His lips tightened to a grim line.
Aye, ’twas no coincidence that the two times Niall had not
fulfilled his intent had been in the presence of Viviane.

Nor that she was a convicted witch.

In his heart, Niall did not believe in
potions and hexes and spells, he did not believe in fairies and
witches and sorcerors, he did not believe in Avalon, nor even
heaven or hell. He did not believe in magic, yet magic was
apparently complicating his days and confounding his intent.

The evidence was inescapable.

’
Twas clear he was to learn
something in this, yet equally clear that Niall’s habit of
believing in only what he could hold within his hands would not be
readily dislodged. He tried to persuade himself of Viviane’s guilt,
of the fact that he had been enchanted, and failed.

Utterly.

Niall scowled and tried again, without
success.

Truth be told, he had fine if somewhat hazy
recollections of Viviane’s company the night before. The way her
eyes sparkled when she told him tales, the way she leaned against
him, the way she looked at him as though the sun rose and set in
him alone could certainly be borne without complaint. She made
Niall feel alluring, she coaxed him to believe in his own charm,
she made him feel a man of power again.

Though her tools were of the most earthy
kind. Was this witchery? Niall had a difficult time persuading
himself so. He was quite certain that the dark arts could only be
practiced with the sacrifice of various livestock, the chanting of
spells and general misdeeds undertaken in the dark of the night
when the moon was veiled.

Not on a ship, in the sunlight.

Niall’s head pounded at the challenge of
reconciling what he had experienced with his beliefs, and had to
admit that this spell of Viviane’s must be cursedly strong. He
winced anew at the realization of what he must do this morn.
Indeed, he felt a measure of guilt that he had to seek out Viviane
and immediately return to Cantlecroft.

After all, she still had the moonstone
talisman.

Sooner begun, sooner finished, after all,
Niall concluded with a sigh. He had best be about his labor before
she enchanted him yet more fully.

Though it could hurt naught to linger abed a
little longer. Clearly, Niall had somehow found a perfect place for
repose. He could hear a faint patter of what might have been rain,
the pallet beneath him was soft and he was too gloriously warm to
leap willingly from his repose. And his head ached, after all.

When he shifted slightly, his leg bumped
against the heat of another.

Niall’s eyes flew open, his heart skipped a
beat. He belatedly recalled Viviane’s invitation, then wondered if
the ‘memory’ was but an invention of his own desire.

A desire born of witchery.

His head was buried beneath a pillow which
was lighter than a cloud, and as a result, he could see naught but
markedly luxurious linens of a creamy hue. He caught a whiff that
could only be feminine skin, then his heart galloped with the
certainty of which particular woman curled beside him.

Viviane. Sorceress, temptress.

Witch.

Niall slid his toe across the mattress once
again and caught his breath when he encountered soft smooth flesh.
A part of him responded to the news with enthusiasm, though Niall
knew he would be wise to be wary.

Surely, he reasoned, it could hurt naught to
look
?

Aye, a single glimpse was well worth
whatever price he might have to pay. Niall eased from beneath the
pillow and peeked at the woman beside him.

The breath left him of one accord when he
saw that he was right. ’Twas indeed Viviane.

And the lady was a beauty. Viviane slept on
her back, as trusting as a child, her auburn hair cast in disarray
across the pillows. Her rosy lips were parted, her breathing deep,
her cheek nestled in her own delicate palm. The linens were caught
beneath her underarm closest Niall, cast over her opposite
shoulder.

Even in sleep, she seemed to smile softly,
as characteristically sunny in outlook as when she was awake. Only
now, while she slumbered unaware, did Niall dare to admit to
himself how very compelling he found this lady’s cheerful
confidence.

Viviane believed the world to be a good
place, she believed in her own good fortune, she was convinced that
naught ill could truly befall her.

Though ill certainly had. Niall had
certainly never been so unfortunate as to be sentenced to die, and
he heartily hoped he never would be. He certainly would not have
continued to believe in his own good fortune if he was.

Niall wondered whether that conviction alone
was what held everything dire at bay for Viviane. And he was the
one sworn to bring the ultimate bad fortune to her. His gut
chilled, though Niall knew a pledge made was a pledge that must be
kept.

He was a man of honor, after all, and his
very reputation hung in the balance of making what had gone awry
come right.

He was not, however, in a hurry this morn.
That should have surprised him, but Niall was instead reassured to
find himself less cold-hearted than he might have feared. Aye, he
might have gotten soft, but he grew accustomed to it, and ’twas
less dire a fate than he had once believed.

For ’twas no crime to think, just for a
moment, that Viviane was still too lovely, too vivaciously alive,
to die.

Niall eyed the bare shoulder nearest him and
swallowed at the knowledge that lovely Viviane was nude. Indeed,
her flawless skin lay bare whenever he could see it and certainly
there was no chemise obstructing his exploring toe.

He thought of the long sleek legs that had
tormented him the day before, the ripe breast that had pressed
against his chest, the smooth buttock that had fallen beneath his
hand. He recalled her delightful smile, the shine of her eyes, the
mischievous dimple that dinted her cheek.

One look. One glimpse alone would satisfy
him, he knew it well. Niall eased back the linens, his headache
nigh forgotten.

He was not disappointed.

First he learned that Viviane had a mole on
that bare right shoulder, then another came to light, nestled
amidst the intriguing hollows below her throat. A third was
secreted above her left breast, temptingly close to where the
nipple must be. Niall had a playful urge to trace a line between
they three with his fingertip and awaken her with a feather light
kiss.

Indeed, ’twas impossible to believe ill of
her when she looked so beguilingly innocent.

So
trusting
. Viviane was not only a
beauteous woman, but one who had evidently welcomed him to her bed.
They had slept nude, side by each, her faith in his good intent so
great that she curled up with the contentedness of a cat.

’
Twas enough to humble a
man.

Especially when that man was pledged to
bring the lady in question to her own execution.

Niall’s mouth went dry as he stared and,
even knowing all he knew, he yearned for yet another of this lady’s
kisses.

Surely ’twould not be unwelcome?

And who would know?

Viviane had not protested the day before. If
an ache between his ears and slumber in a fine bed was the worst
due extracted for a kiss, Niall could bear the burden that would be
earned by another. He leaned closer, convinced that brushing his
lips just once across her lips would pass undetected.

But the lady suddenly stirred.

Niall froze and watched as Viviane stretched
in her sleep, arching her neck as gracefully as a swan. Her lashes
fluttered but her eyes did not open. Niall did not dare to breathe,
so certain was he that his conclusions would be proven wrong, that
she had not actually invited him to be here, that she would awaken
and cast him out of her bed.

Viviane made a wordless sound of contentment
in the back of her throat, a breath that fanned across Niall’s skin
and warmed him to his toes. Her hand fell upon his arm as though
she knew she would find him there and he jumped. Her touch was so
light that he might have missed it had he not been avidly watching
her every move.

And Viviane smiled, her fingers sliding
across his arm, back and forth again. She was not disappointed, nor
even surprised! Niall thought his heart might burst, it clamored so
loudly.

Viviane eased the linens lower with a sigh
and turned towards Niall in a soft tumble of femininity, wriggling
her shoulders as she nestled contentedly into a hollow beside him.
Niall’s mouth went dry as the move revealed the sweet curve of her
left breast fully to his gaze.

As well as the moonstone pendant she still
wore.

Niall stared at the odd stone. He knew he
should snatch at the pendant and make his wish, he knew he should
seize this chance to see his quest complete, but that taut
ruby-hued nipple so temptingly displayed distracted him.

’
Twas so very, very
beauteous.

Just like the lady herself. Niall swallowed,
the weight of his pledge heavy on his shoulders.

He much preferred to think about Viviane’s
bare flesh. Indeed, he was certain her breast must be soft and
sweetly scented, perhaps even more so than her delightful kiss.

But he knew what he should do. His hand
lifted but hesitated before him instead of moving decisively toward
the pendant. Caught between desire and duty, Niall closed his eyes
and reached, trusting Fate to guide his hand.

And Fate, as she has oft been known to do,
betrayed him.

Niall’s fingertips brushed over the ripe
curve of Viviane’s breast and she sighed contentment. She arched
against the roughness of his hand like a demanding cat and Niall
could not help but close his hand over her. Her jutting breast fit
perfectly beneath his palm, tempting his fingers to curve around
its softness. His gaze slid to her mouth in time to watch the tip
of her tongue appear between her parted lips and his desire raged
like an inferno.

Just one more kiss, Niall insisted to
himself.

And
then
he would do his duty.

Niall’s thumb slid leisurely across that
nipple, and it tightened to attention. He bent without a moment’s
pause, cupping her breast in his hand and ducking his head to kiss
that errant mole, then moving across the warmth of her flesh to
take the pert nipple in his mouth.

Viviane’s eyes flew open when his breath
slid across her skin. Niall halted as though caught at a crime. The
sleepy scent of her inundated him and curled his toes, time stood
still while the lady leisurely opened her eyes.

This was it. Niall feared anew that Viviane
would chastise him for his familiarity. If naught else, she would
scream and shout. She would clutch the gem and flee his side,
leaving him alone in this place. Worse, she might weep! Niall’s gut
clenched.

But all the same, he could not willingly
move away.

To his astonishment, Viviane smiled,
confounding his expectation yet again.

“
Good morning,” she
murmured, a welcoming glow taking up residence in the depths of her
eyes. Her smile widened and that dimple appeared in her cheek. Her
fingertips brushed his jaw, wonder dawning in those marvelous eyes.
“So, I didn’t dream you after all,” she murmured and the thunder of
Niall’s pulse drowned on the pounding between his ears.

He found himself smiling back at her, filled
with a sense of potency that he had not known in years. Her hand
fell on the back of his neck, her fingers curled into his hair and
she urged him back toward her breast.

Niall could not resist. He let his thumb
move across her nipple again, savoring how she gasped when the
roughness of his skin snared that turgid peak. Viviane fell back
against the pillows, arching her back as she clenched his hair. She
gasped and writhed, her delight making Niall want only to please
her more. He bent to suckle her.

He began gently, loving how she moaned when
he flicked the peak with the tip of his tongue. Her immediate
response fed his own desire, the silky warmth of her skin prompted
his fingers to drift ever lower and lower in exploration. She was
lean and long, all supple curves and satiny skin, soft and feminine
and seductive.

And she desired him. The way Viviane moaned
in pleasure and stirred beneath Niall’s touch fed a newfound
confidence in his own allure, a confidence that had been shattered
along with his knee and his knightly life.

If this was the magic she wrought, Niall
only wanted more. He wanted to please her in exchange for this
feeling she gave him, to make her cry out and scream aloud.

Niall knew that he would have to fulfill the
quest he had begun. He knew this and he deliberately forgot,
pushing everything from his thoughts to focus solely on Viviane and
her pleasure. He knew that he had never felt this way with a woman
before, be there a spell cast or nay.

He knew without a shred of doubt that he
would never forget her.

’
Twould have to be
enough.