Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (73 page)

Maybe this hotel hadn’t been such a bad
idea, after all. Morgan picked up her toiletry bag and bustled
purposefully toward the shower, merrily thinking up baby names to
suggest to Justine.

It was, at best, a poorly calculated
risk.

*

Alasdair rolled over in time to see the
sorceress stroll into the bathing chamber. She pushed the door
closed with one toe and when he heard her clothing hit the floor,
he smiled to himself.

As soon as the water began to run, he was on
his feet.

Alasdair cast aside his towel and stealthily
made his way across the room, eying the half-closed door all the
way. He flattened himself against the adjacent wall and edged
toward the narrow opening.

What would Morgaine le Fee do to a man who
surprised her in her bath?

Alasdair refused to think about it. He had
to win her approval, he had to gain her affections, and some hard
thinking had given him an idea of precisely how to manage the deed.
The lady was wary of men, that much was certain, and ’twas clear
she had been poorly used in the past.

But Alasdair had a plan. He took a deep
breath, tried to slow the pounding of his heart, then peeked around
the corner.

A buttock flashed creamy as the sorceress
stepped into her bath. That cascade of dark hair bounced behind her
and Alasdair caught a glimpse of her face.

Had she seen him?

Alasdair snapped back against the wall and
held his breath. His heart thundered with the certainty that he had
been discovered. His fists clenched and he half-expected Morgaine
to explode out of the chamber to smite him.

But instead she began to sing quietly.

’
Twas clear she had little
confidence in her voice, for she sang softly, but Alasdair strained
his ears and was delighted to recognize the tune he had sung just
the night before.

He needed no more incentive to round the
corner on silent feet.

A curtain was drawn round the tub, the water
was running merrily and steam rose toward the ceiling. Alasdair
could faintly discern the enchantress’s silhouette behind the
curtain and his mouth went dry. He would have but one chance.

He had best put his all into this.

*

To say Morgan was shocked when someone eased
the shower curtain open would be the understatement of the
century.

The curtain moved, Morgan squealed, she
dropped the soap at the sudden draft of cooler air. Her mouth gaped
when she found a naked Alasdair eyeing her with steely
determination.

What was he doing awake?

Had he guessed what she had done? Morgan
took a wary step backward, her foot landed square on the soap and
she yelped as her feet flew out from underneath her.

Alasdair swore mightily and before Morgan
could panic, she was snatched up and trapped against a very firm,
very masculine chest. Her hands landed on his shoulders, because
there was really nowhere else for them to go.

And a powerful arm locked around her
waist.

Morgan refused to think about anything she
could feel below that, but her nipples tightened instantly, nestled
as they were in the thick tawny hair on Alasdair’s chest. Her heart
pounded so erratically that she was sure he would feel it. Warm
water rained down upon their entwined limbs and trickled between
them.

Now, what was she going to do? Morgan
wriggled, but Alasdair’s grip only tightened, his broad hands
spanning her back. He turned and decisively closed the shower
curtain behind himself and Morgan had to face the fact that a very
naked highlander was in her shower to stay.

For better or for worse. She felt herself
blush in consternation.

But Morgan just couldn’t look up and meet
those blue eyes. If she did, she’d be lost. If she did, she’d want
Alasdair to stay and that could only lead to Big Trouble.

Somehow, she had to get rid of him.

“
Well, good morning! Um,
did you sleep well?” Morgan tried to sound as though there was
really nothing unusual about having a large, sexy man join her in
the shower. The water beaded on Alasdair’s muscled shoulders in a
most intriguing way, and slid through the hair on his chest like a
caress.

Morgan told herself that she was only having
a good look for research. Who knew when she’d have to paint a man
in the rain?

Alasdair snorted and Morgan’s cheeks burned
hotter with the certainty that he had guessed what she was
thinking. Alasdair braced his feet against the porcelain tub and
drew Morgan up to her toes. The heat of his skin pressed against
her and awakened that damn tingle in her belly.

Was he going to kiss her?

Morgan kept talking to try and avoid that
eventuality. “Yes, well, it was too bad you fell asleep last night,
but I’m sure you’re well rested now…”

Evidence of Alasdair’s well-rested state
pressed against her thighs and Morgan had a very good idea of what
compensation he considered to be due.

Clearly, men only joined women in the shower
for one reason - and it wasn’t to ask when breakfast would be
ready. What wasn’t clear was why Morgan was having a hard time
finding the idea offensive.

“
Aye, I slept well enough.”
The highlander’s voice was low, a thread of humor lurking in his
tone. Morgan glanced up at that and was snared by the intense blue
of his eyes.

“
Though you had naught to
do with that, hmmm?” Alasdair arched a fair brow and his lips
twisted in a smile so intimate that it nearly stopped Morgan’s
heart.

In fact, the whole world stopped right then
and there. Morgan stared, her mouth went dry, her heart started to
hammer. She felt that languorous heat slide through her that she
was quickly coming to associate with Alasdair and she couldn’t have
summoned a single word to save her life.

Her toe slid experimentally over his foot,
then continued up the muscled length of his calf, as though it had
a mind of its own and liked what it found. Morgan had the sudden
sense that she had no chance in this battle - after all, her body
was already on Alasdair’s side.

He looked away then, examining the shower
head, then smiling down at her once more, his eyes nearly indigo
with intent. “’Tis a fine circumstance for what I have in mind,” he
rumbled.

And Morgan had a very good idea what that
was.

Before she could convince herself that she
should bolt, Alasdair bent and kissed her ear in a most distracting
fashion. What little was left of Morgan’s resistance eroded
dangerously.

She had to keep him talking, at least until
she could collect her thoughts! “Um, well, you know, I won’t be
long, and then you can have the shower all to yourself…”

“
I wish only to be where
you are, my lady,” Alasdair breathed into her ear.

Morgan hated that she shivered at the
sensation, then she caught her breath as the highlander nibbled on
her earlobe. His hands fanned across her lower back, the way his
fingers spanned her waist making her feel infinitely small and
delicate.

He cradled her in his arms and ran a line of
kisses along her jawline. One more time, Morgan had the
intoxicating sense that she was treasured and she couldn’t turn
away. Such tenderness was irresistible - as was the certainty that
one word of protest from her would stop the whole interlude
cold.

But Morgan was honest enough to admit that
she didn’t really want him to stop. When Alasdair’s mouth locked
over her own in gentle demand, Morgan actually heard herself sigh
with satisfaction.

And every single argument she had went AWOL.
Alasdair’s hand closed possessively over her breast, his thumb
sliding across her taut nipple until Morgan arched against him. His
hand eased lower, the other one cupping her buttock, then he ducked
to flick his tongue across her nipple. Morgan gasped and clenched
fistfuls of his hair as Alasdair suckled.

Morgan thought she would explode. A
throbbing took up the beat between her thighs and her wandering
toes slid over his knee.

Alasdair groaned and lifted her, holding her
against the tiles so that her feet dangled freely. He lifted her
errant foot, caressing her instep before placing that foot on his
thigh. His kisses distracted and disoriented Morgan, and she could
do no more than hang on to his broad shoulders and enjoy.

Which wasn’t so bad. Morgan writhed when
Alasdair’s strong fingers slid over her thigh, across her hip, then
through her pubic hair, but he was undeterred. His fingertip landed
with gentle assurance on her throbbing clitoris and moved with a
surety that stole her breath away.

And Morgan couldn’t find it anywhere within
herself to fight this amorous assault. She had never had anyone
touch her with such tender persistence, had never had any man
awaken such longing within her. Alasdair’s thumb locked onto the
nub of her desire and caressed her with slow persuasiveness.

Morgan kissed Alasdair with newfound abandon
as her hands slid over his strength. To her amazement, he moaned
into her kiss. When Morgan felt the heat of his erection press
against her, her hips began to buck in intuitive demand.

His finger slipped inside her and Morgan
caught her breath. Their gazes locked and Alasdair smiled slowly as
he moved his thumb once more. Morgan’s heart thundered, the heat
rose beneath her skin, and she couldn’t look away from the hypnotic
sapphire of his gaze. The rocked together in instinctive rhythm,
the water bore down upon them, and Morgan felt the crest of a wave
rise deep within her.

She must have given some small sign, because
Alasdair captured her lips in that very moment. He trapped her
between the wall and his chest, his scent filling her lungs, his
tongue in her mouth, his fingers inside her. Morgan writhed
demandingly, pulling him closer, wanting more, wanting all he could
give her.

Alasdair slanted his mouth across hers, his
fingers danced with persistence. Morgan cried out as her orgasm
exploded through her body with dizzying force.

And she sagged against Alasdair, trembling,
in the wake of the torrent he had summoned.

*

It took several moments for Morgan to
realize that things were not proceeding exactly as she had
expected. Gradually, the haze retreated from her mind and she
noticed that amorous intent had left the highlander’s touch.

When her pulse slowed, Morgan found herself
standing on her own two feet with Alasdair busily soaping her down.
Her breasts were all lathered up, as were her arms and belly. But
it was obvious from the deft purpose in Alasdair’s touch that this
wasn’t some game – he was simply washing her.

It wasn’t what Morgan had expected to happen
next. She frowned and looked but his erection was just as
enthusiastic as ever. Before she could ask what was going on,
Alasdair pivoted her purposefully beneath the cascading water, and
she sputtered for a moment beneath its flow.

“
Rinse,” he commanded.
“Then bend over that I might scrub your back.”

Morgan did as she was told, still trying to
make sense of what was happening. His fingers were turning the
tense muscles of her back to putty, but she knew she didn’t imagine
that his mood had changed. Morgan sighed as Alasdair found the
souvenir kink that an afternoon of sleeping in the Micra had left
in her shoulder, but she forced herself to ask.

“
What are you
doing?”

“
Bathing you, my lady.”
Alasdair’s tone was amiable. “Was that not why you came to this
chamber?”

Morgan couldn’t really argue with that.
“Well, yes.” His thumbs moved rhythmically against the knot, and
Morgan closed her eyes with pleasure. She let herself enjoy his
ministrations and savored the luxurious feeling of being
pampered.

By a rough warrior. Morgan smiled at the
contrast, then gasped in delight as Alasdair scratched her
shoulders. She stretched like a cat, directed him left, right, and
down, and knew she had never felt so good.

“
Rinse,” he commanded again
and Morgan straightened as bidden. When the highlander squatted
down in front of her and started to lather up her legs, Morgan eyed
him assessingly.

What was going on?

“
Did I do something wrong?”
she asked tentatively.

Alasdair’s grin was fleeting. “That would be
my question,” he joked, then flicked a glance at her that was so
intent, it stole her breath away. “Were you well pleased?”

Morgan flushed scarlet. “Well, yes.”

“
Good.” Alasdair nodded and
frowned slightly as he focused on the task at hand. He worked the
soap between each toe, then rinsed her foot before placing it back
on the porcelain. Then he lifted her other foot.

“
Um, what about
you?”

One fair brow arched. “I can wait well
enough,” Alasdair murmured, and Morgan couldn’t help but wonder how
long he intended to wait.

Was he just softening her up for a big
sensual attack? Morgan wondered whether she was the only one
feeling awkward – Alasdair certainly didn’t seem to have any doubts
about how things should proceed.

His erection seemed to be mocking her,
dancing between his thighs as he moved, as though daring her to ask
about it being so obviously left out of the loop.

Then Alasdair pushed her under the shower’s
assault and Morgan closed her eyes. She felt the weight of the
water in her hair, then Alasdair’s strong fingers began to massage
her scalp.

She was being spoiled. Morgan decided not to
worry about what was to come, but just to enjoy. The hum between
her thighs was already starting again as Alasdair’s hands worked
through her hair.

“
Um, there’s shampoo in
that little bottle,” she directed with one finger, taking the
excuse of not wanting to open her eyes under the shower of
water.