He could see the window shutter through her outstretched hand!
Indeed, now that he’d blinked a time or two, he noted that he could look through more than just her hand. The entire length of her – even her richly worked woollen robe – was as insubstantialas a will-o’-the-wisp.
Yet the strange woman was her.
His dream vixen.
He tried to go to her, but his feet wouldn’t move. And neither would his lips when he attempted to speak. He could only stand and stare, watching as she faded into the moonlight, disappearing in a swirl of twinkling sparkles that danced on the air, taunting him, before they, too, vanished as if they’d never been.
“Thor’s hammer!” Rogan scrubbed a hand over his face.
Even that one cannot help us . . .
The words came on the icy wind still racing past the windows. But even as he wondered if he’d really heard them, the night stilled. Allwas silent save for the muffled roar of the nearby sea.
Sure now that he was in danger of losing his wits, he strode across the room and thrust his hands into the corner where he’d seen the woman. But, of course, he felt nothing out of the ordinary.
Rogan frowned. He knew he’d seen her. He’d heard her, too.
Yet . . .
The more he tried to make sense of it, the more it tied his mind in knots. It was one thing to have heated dreams of a hot, passionate woman, but this was something else. And perhaps he could also be excused for enjoying their sensual encounters, realor imagined. He was, after all , a red-blooded man with needs and desires that made it impossible to resist such temptation.
But to have her suddenly appear as a see-through woman in his own bedchamber, calling him a different name and then vanishing before his waking eyes, tested even his limits of belief.
And as a MacGraith – hereditary guardians of nearby Smoo Cave, with all its inherent oddities – he’d been born to accept strange happenings.
This night he’d had enough.
So he crossed the room determinedly and climbed into his bed, pulling the sheets and furred coverings over him. The morrow would be soon enough to think on the things he’d seen and heard.
But as soon as he rolled on to his side and tried to sleep, he knew he wasn’t alone.
She was in the bed with him.
Naked, warm, and supple as always.
Rogan’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t see her – she was lying behind him, her full, round breasts pressing against his back. Equally rousing, she was sliding one sleek thigh up and down his in a slow, sensualglide that would bring any man to his knees.
Rogan groaned. His entire body tightened.
“Don’t leave me.” She spoke the same words as before. But this time she used the voice he knew.
The voice he loved.
Knowing himself lost, he turned to face her. His heart caught when he saw the want in her amber eyes. She reached for him, trembling as she wound her arms around his neck, clinging to him, begging his kiss.
“Lass—”
“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded again, just as he slanted his mouth over hers.
His heart pounded and he pulled her close, thrusting his hands in her hair as he kissed her. She opened her lips beneath his, her tongue slipping into his mouth, firing his senses even as he slid his hands from her hair down over her shoulders and to her breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, almost losing his seed when they hardened beneath his caress.
“Lass . . .” He broke their kiss, pulling back to look at her. “I don’t even know your name.”
“But you knowme.” She bracketed his face, dragging him back to her mouth, silencing him with a deeper, more feverish kiss. “I am yours. I have always been yours. And—” she pressed into him, her silken warmth and lush curves taking his breath and blotting out everything in his world but her “—you, my heart, will always be mine.”
“Aye, I am,” Rogan agreed, believing it.
