Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (60 page)

Morgan flung out her hands in exasperation,
but it was hard for Justine to take her seriously when she was
wearing no more than Calvin Klein briefs and a sweater. “Don’t you
get it? He’s a con man! He probably set the whole thing up so he
could pretend to rescue me!”

Justine treated her sister to her most
skeptical glanced. “And this con job – that would be the one to get
back a crystal that only you remember seeing anywhere other than in
your purse – would it also explain why he’s waiting for you?”

“
What?” Morgan’s eyes
widened in alarm. “He’s waiting for me? Where?”

Justine nodded toward the window and Morgan
peeked through the curtains. She jumped back as though the sight
burned her. “He’s out there!”

“
Of course, he’s out
there.” Justine was calm again. “He
likes
you – despite the
way you treat him.”

“
Justine! What am I going
to do?” Morgan paced wildly, more nervous than Justine had seen her
in quite a while.

Which could only be a good sign. Justine
folded with authority, her composure restored, and made short work
of the rest of the packing.

“
You’re going to go down
there and invite him in for breakfast,” she said firmly.

Morgan paled. “I am not!”

“
You are so.” Justine spun
to confront her sister and let her voice drop to a threat. “Because
if you don’t, I will.”

“
You can’t. Don’t you get
it? He’s a con artist!”

Justine rolled her eyes. “Oh, Morgan, stop
it. Not every guy on the face of the earth is like Matt.” She shook
her head, closing the suitcase with a decisive snap, and swung it
off the bed. “Thank God for small mercies.”

Morgan got her Stubborn Look, but Justine
would not be swayed.

She propped her hands on her hips. “Morgan,
let’s look at the facts. Your suspicions to the contrary, Alasdair
has been nothing but a perfect gentleman. He even made sure you got
back here all right. Now, go on down there and invite him in – it
can’t hurt to find out what he wants.”

Morgan sighed and frowned as she shoved one
hand through the thickness of her hair. “He said he just wants to
go home.”

Justine heard the wistfulness in her
sister’s tone and knew that Morgan wasn’t as immune to the
highlander’s charm as she’d like everyone to believe.

Which was the most promising sign of healing
that Justine had seen in years. She liked that Alasdair was
protective of her baby sister and also that he wasn’t afraid to
wear his own heart on his sleeve.

The man definitely had promise.

“
Well, maybe we’ll just
have to take him there,” Justine declared in her most decisive
tone. “It doesn’t look like he has a lot of cash on his hands. Ask
him for breakfast and we’ll find out where his home is.”

“
But Blake has an
itinerary…”

“
Blake will get over it.
It’s about time his planning had a rest.”

“
But Justine…”

“
But
nothing
.”
Justine let herself smile as she tried another tack. “You know, if
we got off Blake’s itinerary, we just might end up in some
wonderfully romantic little hamlet, maybe in a castle turned into a
hotel. Wouldn’t it be lovely?”

Justine waited a heartbeat, then sighed with
mock disappointment. “No, you’re right, of course. We should follow
Blake’s plans. After all, he might get all amorous if we ended up
in a place like that, and you’d be left to fend for yourself. That
would be a horrible shame, especially since we’re all on vacation
together.”

She shrugged, commandeered the suitcase, and
headed for the door. “Forget I said anything. Let’s have breakfast.
Where did Blake say we were going today? Scone Palace, I
think.”

Morgan muttered something unrepeatable under
her breath. “All right. All right! I’ll ask him,” she declared with
obvious irritation. “But don’t blame me if you’re wrong.”

Justine was never wrong.

Well, except for that one time.

She grinned as Morgan dressed hastily, then
slammed the door to the room behind herself. She liked seeing her
sister this bothered about including the highlander in their
plans.

It could only bode well for Justine’s
scheme.

Blake, just now lugging their own bag out of
their room, arched a brow and glanced between spouse and sister.
“Problem?”

Justine’s smile widened. “Not at all.
Everything is going to be just fine.”

Blake grinned. “Always is when you’re in
charge.”

And he was right. Justine had, after all,
made a science of knowing best.

*

Alasdair spent a night tormented by the
comparisons between his own troubles and those of Thomas Rhymer. To
be certain, it could be no coincidence that particular tale of his
gran’s - out of ranks of thousands – had come to his lips last
eve.

Had he condemned himself to seven years’
imprisonment in the land of Faerie with a single kiss? That it had
been an embrace of rare power was beyond doubt, for the heat of
Morgaine’s salute had fairly melted his bones.

And True Thomas, ’twas said, had believed
himself gone only seven nights upon his return to Erceldoune,
though truly seven years had passed. It had been but one day since
Alasdair found himself in this fey world - at least to his
mind.

Could an entire year have already passed in
the land of mortals? Alasdair’s heart twisted that his gran should
believe him dead.

Or worse, that he had abandoned his only
son.

Alasdair sighed and glared at the
sorceress’s window, hating how a moment of whimsy had so meddled
with his life. There were those, he well knew, who did not even win
a respite after seven years, but were trapped in Faerie for all
eternity.

Surely this could not be his fate?

The enchantress erupted from her abode just
when Alasdair was convinced matters could get no worse. Her sour
expression bode naught good, to Alasdair’s mind. Garbed in green
and gold she was this morning, as fresh as a new blade of grass,
her hair bouncing in a dark cloud behind her shoulders.

Yet for all her poor temper, the woman was
sufficiently beguiling to tempt a response from Alasdair’s
treacherous flesh. Everything tightened within him as she cut a
path directly toward him and he could think only of her lusty
kiss.

He knew ’twas no more than a deception, for
his gran’s tales were filled with the marvels of Faerie folk making
their own shapes. ’Twas a dark magic Morgaine summoned to delve
into Alasdair’s mind that she might design herself to fascinate
him.

He felt no more clever than a fly, stumbling
into an artfully baited web, while the crafty spider lingered in
the shadows, awaiting her prey.

But such whimsy would win him naught!
Alasdair pushed to his feet and shoved one hand through his hair,
determined to face this conflict squarely.

“
Justine insists that I
invite you for breakfast,” Morgaine declared without sparing him a
greeting. Her green eyes were shadowed with displeasure and her
lips drawn to a tight line that belied their usual ripe fullness.
“And so I am.”

Alasdair was so surprised that she granted
the advisor’s counsel such weight - never mind that the advisors
evidently still supported his own cause - that he held his
tongue.

She grimaced. “Because if I don’t, she’ll do
it anyway. That’s how Justine is.”

Alasdair absorbed this amazing piece of
information. What would any ruler have to say of an advisor who did
whatsoever he or she desired? ’Twas unthinkable!

Yet even more pressing to Alasdair’s mind
was the fact that Morgaine’s opinion of him did not seem to have
improved over the night. Had he won no esteem for recounting a tale
that evidently intrigued her?

Morgaine wagged a warning finger at
Alasdair, dashing any hope he might have had. “But don’t get any
ideas that I like you or anything. And don’t think for a minute
that I’ve forgotten the kind of man you are. You certainly aren’t
going to get that crystal from me, so don’t even try.”

’
Twas more than clear that
Alasdair’s charm had won him naught in Morgaine’s eyes.

He cleared his throat and tried to show
himself as respectful of her powers. “I mean no offense, my
lady.”

Morgaine folded her arms across her chest,
pushing the curves of her breasts to surprising prominence beneath
her loose garb, and Alasdair’s slumbering desire roared to
life.

Ye gods, but she made his blood boil!

The sorceress, though, wore a skeptical
expression. “Justine thinks we should take you home after
breakfast,” she said, an assessing glint in her eyes. “If that’s
what you want.”

Alasdair gasped to have release so freely
offered, especially after her earlier words.

There must be a trick.

All the same, he would not show ingratitude.
He bowed deeply and tried to think of flowery words to impress her.
“Aye, aye, I should dearly love to return home. My lady, you grant
great favor to me in this matter and do not imagine that I do not
appreciate…”

“
It’s
not
my idea,”
the sorceress interjected flatly. “In fact, I’d rather not do this
at all, but - “ she hesitated for a moment, then waved her hand
dismissively. “Well, never mind. It’s complicated. Where do you
live anyway?”

Alasdair fought not to scoff at the question
and keep his humble tone. Clearly, she mocked him, for a Faerie
queen would know all! “Callanish, on the isle of Lewis, my
lady.”

“
Oh!” Morgaine’s eyes
opened wide and her hostility melted away. “Where the standing
stones are?”

And the sight of her softness nearly undid
what remained of Alasdair’s resolve. He supposed he should not have
been surprised that Morgaine would be intrigued by a circle of
stones reputed to be magical beyond all. Had his gran not declared
Callanish to be the meeting place of the local Faerie folk?

“
Have you been to see
them?” Morgaine demanded with a curiosity she could not
disguise.

Was this another opportunity to win her
favor? Alasdair had never felt so buffeted by conflicting emotions.
He seriously longed for the previous simplicity of his life.

For the first time in years, his crofter’s
cottage held allure. Aye, ’twould be good to be home again, with
naught on his mind but keeping the sheep from the garden and
bouncing his son on his knee.

“
Aye, I know them well,” he
admitted carefully. “They are said to be most powerful and are
close to my own abode.”

“
Oh.” Morgaine’s lips
twisted. “I bet they’re wonderful.” She sighed and glanced over her
shoulder to the portal of her abode, before summoning a thin smile
for Alasdair. Only now he noted her exhaustion, where previously he
had thought her merely annoyed with him.

Her candle had burned all through the night.
Was it possible that she had been as sleepless as he?

For the same reason? Alasdair’s heart
skipped an unruly beat.

“
You know, I really wanted
to go to Callanish on this trip,” she confided, “but Blake thought
it was too far.”

Too far? She manipulated him again!

Alasdair’s anger stirred that she would
already change her mind about her offer. And what was distance to a
Faerie queen who could be anywhere she desired with a snap of her
fingers?

His manners had been impeccable, yet still
she toyed with him! Alasdair’s tolerance of these Faerie games was
wearing dangerously thin.

“
So you would stir a man’s
hopes, then snatch them away?” he demanded impatiently. “I should
have expected no less! Do you mean to destroy my will that you
might bend me to your own ends?”

“
That’s not fair!” the tiny
sorceress declared. “You’re the one with something to gain, not me!
You only want the crystal back!”

Alasdair took a fortifying breath, knowing a
test when he saw one. He had to remain calm. And charming.

Even if his frustration was rapidly coming
to a boil.

Evidently Morgaine spoke of the magical
stone.

Alasdair mustered his most sincere glance,
and his voice fell low. “If I grant you my pledge to not try to
retrieve the stone, will you see me home?”

The words seemed to surprise Morgaine. She
stared into his eyes for a long moment. “You’d promise me
that?”

“
Aye.” Alasdair’s tone was
unequivocal.

After all, how could he guess whether or not
he could make the witch’s charm work in reverse, even if he did
retrieve the stone? And he had little to gain from a mere crystal,
if Morgaine herself would simply send him home in exchange for a
vow.

Morgaine stared at him, her lips parting
ever so slightly. Alasdair’s gut tightened, and he knew he looked
into the bewitching green of her eyes overlong. Once again he could
think of naught but kissing her until she moaned against his
lips.

’
Twas too readily she had
granted his request, he feared suddenly. Clearly there was another
test Alasdair had to pass in order to win his way home.

Ye gods, was there no end to this
nonsense?

Morgaine drew herself up taller so suddenly
that Alasdair feared she had read his thoughts. ’Twas almost a joke
to see her assume a haughty manner, for she had to be one of the
softest-looking women Alasdair had ever met.

But who knew what darkness lurked in the
shadows of her heart?

“
All right. But don’t be
getting any ideas about me changing my mind about you,” she said
frostily. She pointed a finger at him. “You keep your
distance.”