Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (69 page)

And then she let the brown.

But quickly she ran to the milk-white
steed,

And pulled the rider down.

So well Janet minded what he’d said

That young Tam Lin did win.

She covered him with her green mantle,

As blythe’s a bird in spring.

Out then spake the Queen of Faeries,

Out of a bush of broom.

“
She who has gotten young
Tam Lin,

Has stolen a stately groom.”

Out then spake the Queen of Faeries,

And an angry woman was she.

“
Shame betide her ill far’d
face,

And an ill death may she die,

For she’s taken away the bonniest
knight,

In all my company.”

“
But had I known, Tam Lin,”
she says,

“
What now this night I
see,

I would have taken out thy two gray
eyes,

And put in two eyes of tree.”

Applause broke out around the tavern, and
Alasdair was heartened by the shining of Morgaine’s eyes. “That’s
wonderful,” she breathed. “Another from your gran?”

“
Aye. She has a thousand of
them, but Tam Lin is a favorite.”

“
I want to hear them all,”
Morgaine said firmly.

Well, if that was the price of freedom,
’twas one Alasdair would willingly pay.

*

What a wonderful story!

Morgan’s mind filled with flowing images of
the Faerie host riding at a moonlit midnight, their queen in the
lead and mortal Tam Lin in their ranks. She envisioned his mortal
love, round with child, waiting and waiting, her features drawn
with anxiety.

The planning of the page layout came in a
flash, and Morgan knew she’d show the reunited lovers embracing at
the lower right corner, a symbol of love conquering all. She sighed
with satisfaction, her fingers itching to get to work, and felt
Alasdair’s gaze heavy upon her.

He had a true gift for making a story come
alive.

Alasdair smiled, as though he had guessed
the praise she hadn’t even uttered. Morgan smiled back at him,
welcoming the warmth that spread from her own heart. Alasdair
really was the kind of man she had always wanted to meet.

Protective, strong, gentle and tough by
turn. A man of honor who valiantly defended those around him. A
warrior who sang folktales without embarrassment. A man unashamed
to show concern for his son.

But men didn’t get sons all by themselves.
Alasdair must have a wife in the fourteenth century, too.

The unexpected conclusion blindsided Morgan
– as did the intensity with which she disliked it. She fought
against a completely unreasonable jealousy, but still couldn’t
dismiss her feelings.

Trust her to be attracted to a man who had
been married for more than seven hundred years!

“
Well, we have the most
exciting news,” Justine declared.

Morgan, having learned to be wary of Justine
when she looked so delighted with herself, didn’t encourage her
sister. She could fell Alasdair watching her, and she knew that
sexy smile still toyed with his lips.

And she remembered all too easily just how
good those lips felt on her own. Morgan fidgeted in her chair,
wanting something she didn’t dare to name.

And hating Alasdair’s eagerness to go home
to be with his wife.

Irritation coursed through Morgan. It wasn’t
her fault that she was thinking of the highlander in a sexy
way.

After all, he had kissed her.

And what kind of man did that make him? How
dare Alasdair kiss her the way he did and smile at her the way he
did when he had a wife?

Maybe he wasn’t that different from Matt,
after all. Anger pulled Morgan’s lips into a thin line, and she sat
stiffly as she simmered.

Men. They were all the same. Take away the
great legs and the charming accent and the timely promises that
they never meant to keep and they were all the same. Every man was
only interested in sex.

She should have known better by now.

“
Yes, we certainly do,”
Blake agreed.

When no one asked for details, Justine still
provided them. “We’re going to stay in this marvelous old inn! It
has the most wonderful view of the lake and the hills and the
castle…”

“
And the rooms are
reasonable enough,” Blake added.

“
And they serve a wonderful
breakfast. The hostess is so nice, she even showed us the rooms and
they’re divine.” Justine sat back with resolve. “We’ve booked two
nights.”

Two nights stuck here. And all Morgan wanted
was to toss Alasdair back at his wife ASAP.

“
But I though we were going
straight to Lewis,” she protested.

Justine’s gaze bored into Morgan’s, and she
pronounced each word with precision. “But it’s so
romantic
here. How could we resist?”

Indecision warred within Morgan. Justine had
finally caught on to the Baby-Making Plan. At least that was going
right.

But the price was a bit higher than Morgan
had anticipated. She glanced sidelong at Alasdair and found him
looking a bit confused.

“
You granted me your word
that we went directly to Lewis,” he said quietly.

But Blake obviously didn’t hear the danger
lurking in the other man’s tone. “Well, what’s another day? We have
to stay somewhere tonight anyhow,” he said, ever the heart and soul
of practicality. “It’s too late to drive further, and I’d kind of
appreciate a day of not driving.”

Morgan blinked. A day of not driving?
Someone had stolen away her brother-in-law and replaced him with a
living, breathing replica.

Maybe it had been the fairies.

Then Blake gave Justine one of those
sizzling smiles that they shared all too seldom, to Morgan’s way of
thinking, and she knew she just couldn’t disagree.

By the looks of it, this would be her only
chance to hold a bouncing baby on her knee.

Somehow, she’d have to survive.

Alasdair leaned forward to protest, but
Morgan sent a lethal glance across the table. It not only silenced
him but seemed to stun him.

“
I think it’s a great
idea,” she said firmly, before Alasdair could voice an opinion. “I
can hardly wait.”

Alasdair sat back, his expression wary.

At least he hadn’t argued with her. All the
same, Morgan was a bit surprised that this change of plans hadn’t
brought on another volcanic eruption, as it had the last time.

He hadn’t even called Blake a liar, which
was most unlike Alasdair. Morgan sneaked a peek through her lashes
and found the highlander looking thoughtful. What was he up to
now?

Nothing good, that was for sure. Morgan had
an uneasy sense that the ground was going to shift under her
feet.

Shields up; phasers on stun.

But the anticipated shot came from friendly
territory.

“
Great!” Blake dropped a
key on the table. It had a plastic tag labeled “Room 7.” “Well, if
you don’t mind, we’d kind of like to spend the evening on our own.
There’s a little restaurant on the other side of the hall, if you
tell them you want dinner.”

One
key?

Morgan waited, but no other key joined it on
the table.

In fact, Blake and Justine got to their
feet, linked arms, and smiled, looking like a united – and hurried
– front. “Have a good one, then.”

“
But where’s the other
key?” Morgan asked. She snatched up the key and waved it at the
departing pair, as if they had missed this critical
detail.

Justine wouldn’t have.

She couldn’t have.

But when that Mona Lisa smile slid across
Justine’s lips, Morgan knew she’d been had.

She wouldn’t share a room with Alasdair! She
just wouldn’t.

“
Oh, they only had two
rooms left. One for us and one for you. Didn’t I mention it?”
Justine waved off Morgan’s sputtering and practically hauled Blake
toward the door. “Oh, well, I knew you wouldn’t mind.” She
stretched and pressed a kiss to Blake’s cheek, whispering something
in his ear that made him inhale sharply.

“
We’ve got to go! We’ve
really got to go.” Blake almost tripped over his words in his
haste. “Hey, Morgan, I’ll bring up your bag when I get
ours.”

“
You can’t do this!” Morgan
cried and bounced to her feet. “I won’t let you get away with
this!”

But they were gone.

And most of the other patrons in the bar
were getting a really good look at Morgan shaking that key.

She spun around, sat down on the edge of her
chair, and fixed Alasdair with a stern eye. “We have to go and sort
this out,” she said in a firm tone. “There has to be another room.
After all, we can’t share a room.”

To Morgan’s dismay, a seductive smile curved
Alasdair’s lips. “Can we not, my lady?”

An almost forgotten heat spread languorously
over Morgan’s flesh, leaving her tingling and weak-kneed in its
wake. Damn him! How could she be so susceptible to his charm?

He was
married
!

Of course, that hadn’t stopped Matt.

How could Alasdair imagine that Morgan would
willingly be little Miss Here-and-Now, knowing full well that he
had a family waiting for him in the past? It was disgusting.

Morgan could just about spit.

Justine was going to regret this one, that
much was for sure.

“
No, we cannot share a
room,” she insisted. “And we aren’t going to.” Morgan marched out
of the bar, determined to set matters to rights, one way or the
other.

*

’
Twas not very flattering,
the way Morgaine responded to what Alasdair saw as an admirable
opportunity. Mercifully, she had absolutely no luck in weaseling
another key out of the proprietors.

Alasdair wondered whether there truly were
no other accommodations available or the advisors had bribed the
staff overly well.

Either way, he had nary a complaint. Someone
looked fondly upon him and his quest, ’twas clear, for he could not
have arranged matters more to his satisfaction.

Perhaps he should indulge in prayer more
frequently than was his wont. Those few Ave Marias in the Micra
seemed to have had marked results.

At any rate, Alasdair had two entire nights
to seduce Morgaine. And he knew the merit of his amorous talents
well enough to smell success in the wind.

Her hand had trembled within his, after
all.

’
Twould be a slow and
thorough loving. The very prospect heated his blood to a boil. He
would taste every increment of her delectable flesh, nuzzle and
caress her, memorize the location of every mole and freckle that
graced her skin. Alasdair would make Morgaine moan aloud, make her
cry out in her release, grant her untold praise for the enticing
form she had taken. He would pleasure her as never she had been
pleasured before.

And Alasdair would do it again and again,
until they both were languid and exhausted.

Then they would do it again.

His pulse began to pound in his ears. His
palms were damp and ’twas not because the stairs were overly steep.
Morgaine’s hips swung beguilingly right before his very eyes, and
he decided he would remove the tights with his teeth.

Slowly

Aye, they would need to be dragged from Room
7 two days hence.

But the sorceress, clearly unaware of the
delights in store for her, looked fit to spit sparks as she marched
up the stairs to the second floor.

Alasdair, in contrast, found himself
whistling in anticipation.

Morgaine whirled on the landing and glared
at him. “Would you stop that? You really haven’t been a lot of help
here. You could have insisted that they find another room.”

“
And what need have I of
another room,” Alasdair murmured, letting his amorous intent shine
in his eyes, “when ’tis Room 7 where you will be?”

Morgaine wagged a stern finger at him,
obviously taking advantage of being able to look him in the eye,
since he was still three stairs below her. “Don’t even go there,
mister. Save your bedroom eyes and romantic talk for someone more
likely to fall for it.”

Before Alasdair could answer that, she
stormed down the narrow hall, peering at one door after another in
the dim light. To regain some control over his raging desire,
Alasdair glanced around the corridor and was not particularly taken
with the dozens of flowers painted on the walls.

A fearsome amount of work ’twould be – and
for what? Without a good torch in the sconce – merely some
flickering wee glow – a man could barely see them anyway.

Feminine frippery. It could be naught
else.

Finally, Morgaine fitted her key into the
last door on the right and shoved the door open with one toe. She
stepped over the threshold and gasped.

Alasdair knew the moment of the hunt was
upon him. He lunged after the sorceress, only to catch the closing
door with his nose.

“
No! You can’t come in!”
Morgaine desperately tried to push the door closed, a hopeless task
against a man so much stronger than she.

Had he not known better, Alasdair might have
thought her afeartie.

But of what?

Surely not of him?

That thought was far from reassuring.

Had she merely guessed his plan and wanted
to halt his conquest? Alasdair could not be certain – but he had no
interest in leaving a woman afraid of him. Alasdair wedged his boot
into the opening and let her valiantly struggle to close the
door.

He folded his arms across his chest and
waited with consummate patience for her to realize the futility of
this battle.

’
Twas not long before the
lady saw his toe. She muttered an eloquent curse and glared at him
through the narrow opening. That flicker of trepidation danced in
the depths of her eyes. “You can’t come in. I won’t let
you.”