Daar smiled. Such passion from one so innocent. Such determination and potent vigor. If anyone could capture and hold the interest of Morgan MacKeage, it was Mercedes Quill.
She was a fine match for the warrior—strong, intelligent, and possessing the courage it would take to fight by his side. And for that Daar was glad, because if he understood the signs he’d been reading these last few weeks, Mercedes Quill’s search for the gold was sending her deep into the middle of a violent war.
Morgan ran without direction save one:away from Mercedes. He had to protect her from the storm, from the terror of a journey that could send him, and possibly anyone near him, through time.
As much as he wanted to run to Mercedes, not from her—to bury himself in her soft strength and hold on tightly until the storm had passed—he could not endanger her that way.
But if he were gone, who would keep her safe from the darkness that roamed this valley now?
Morgan stopped his flight abruptly on that thought and squinted through the driving rain to get his bearings. Though it seemed like a hundred, he’d traveled less than half a mile from the river. Lightning flashed again, followed almost immediately by ground-shaking thunder. The storm surrounded him. Wind bowed the tops of the taller trees and drove the autumn-turned leaves from the branches of oak and maple and beech.
A voice, high-pitched and insistent, came through the echoing thunder, faint at first but moving closer.
Morgan dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. Mercedes, the maddening littlegràineag, was searching for him.
He was torn between continuing on for her safety and returning to her for his own selfish reasons. Dammit. They belonged to each other.
He could protect her, be they in this time or another; he could face any challenge as long as they were together.
But did he have that right yet, to choose Mercedes’ destiny for her? She’d been about to give herself to him, but did she fully understand what that giving meant?
And was he desperate enough—and selfish enough—to wait until after he possessed Mercedes to explain to her the age-old laws of claiming?
He did not care for this modern society’s rules of mating. Once he made love to Mercedes, there was no turning back. She would be his until eternity.
Morgan moved into the shelter of a giant spruce tree. The sound of her calling him was closer now, echoing from several directions and carried on the wind. Her voice rang with desperation and concern—and maybe just a touch of anger.
Morgan couldn’t keep from smiling. His littlegràineag was nothing if not tenacious. She’
d drown herself searching for him, or possibly catch pneumonia. But she would not give up, he knew, because she was proving herself to be just as possessive as he was.
And for that reason alone, he stepped into her path.
As quickly and mysteriously as hehad disappeared, Morgan was suddenly standing in front of her, a dark, formidable specter visible only in the strobe of lightning that pulsed through the sky.
His shirt was still unbuttoned, the leather strap of his sword lying across his chest.
Water ran in steaming rivulets over the harsh planes of his face, down his neck, over his powerful body that could have been carved from granite.
For one brief moment, in one particularly blinding flash of light, Sadie saw clearly the danger she was in. Morgan MacKeage would not negotiate. Would offer no concessions.
Accept no excuses.
He would demand her complete surrender.
And then he would demand even more.
The air between them crackled with electricity. The object hanging around his neck seemed to sparkle and hum with energy, taking on an ethereal glow of its own. The nerves covering every inch of Sadie’s skin came alive. She didn’t know if it was the storm crashing around them or the blood rushing through her head, but she was having a hard time keeping her balance. Her heart wanted to jump out of her chest. Her knees wanted to buckle. And she couldn’t stop shaking.
Morgan suddenly stepped forward and swept her into his arms, lifting her against him and burying his face in her neck. “Too late, Mercedes,” he growled into her hair. “It’s happening now. And we both live with the consequence.”
She couldn’t have denied him even if she understood what he was talking about. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him fiercely. He carried her deeper into the forest, until he found an outcropping of ledge that would protect them from the storm. He stood her on her feet, pulled off his sword, and set it on the ground, then gathered the grass that grew at the base of the ledge, fashioning a soft bed.
He worked quickly, in silence, keeping one guarded eye on her as if he were afraid she’
d bolt. Sadie stood rooted in place, unable to look away.
He straightened and turned and took her back in his arms, kissing her with a passion that bordered on desperation. Sadie kissed him for their entire journey to the ground, smelling the rain heating his skin, tasting the woods he was so much a part of, feeling the tension gathering in every one of his muscles.
He covered her with his body, surrounding her completely.
And Sadie welcomed the onslaught of emotion that overloaded her senses. She sent her hands exploring, touching, kneading his flesh. She opened her mouth to him, suckled his tongue, and tugged on his hair in an attempt to get even closer.
His hands were everywhere, pulling at her clothes, rubbing exposed skin that felt to be on fire. In a frenzy of movement, with time suspended despite her urgency, Sadie helped him tear away all of their clothes. The storm receded from her mind, her focus narrowed on just the two of them, sharpening inward until only warmth and light and feelings were left.
He laced their fingers together and lifted her hands above her head, using his mouth to trace a path across her face, down her neck, to between her now exposed breasts. Searing heat followed his lips; shivering anticipation preceded them. He kissed the nipple of her right breast, taking it into his mouth and sucking. Sadie shivered and cried out and arched her back with pleasure.
His mouth moved on, over her breasts, his teeth rasping her skin and sending shudders throughout her. Sadie wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her back again, feeling his erection pushing against her belly.
He lifted himself off her slightly, just enough that he could stare down at her face. The swirling, now brightened glow of his necklace exposed harsh features and eyes sharp with intent.
“Do you take me, Mercedes?” he asked in a low, guttural voice. “And all that I have to offer—do you take me?”
Her mouth suddenly desert-dry, she could only nod.
He pressed himself forward against her belly, then retreated again. “Say it, Mercedes.
Say it out loud, so all can hear. Do you take me?”
“Yes, Morgan. Everything you offer.”
Some of the tension eased from his face at her words. His muscles relaxed slightly, and it felt as if he all but melted against her. His mouth returned to hers in a kiss that was different this time. More possessive.
“Take my shoulders, lass, and hold tight,” he whispered. “It will be unpleasant for only a moment, I promise.”
Unpleasant?
How could anything that had to do with this be unpleasant? Sadie was shaking with the need to feel him inside her. “Get on with it, Morgan,” she whispered huskily.
A slow, maddening smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “So you can find the words when you need them, huh,gràineag?” he said, moving back and reaching one hand between them, guiding himself between her thighs.
Sadie sucked in her breath and held it as he slowly pushed against her. His mouth returned, his hands trapped hers, and his hips finally moved in the direction she wanted.