“The cave brought you back to me.” He made it sound so easy.
So plausible.
Lindy frowned. “Smoo Cave? So it really is a kind of time portal? An entrance to other realms as all the lore and legend claims?”
She so wanted to believe.
Rogan was nodding as if he did. “I canna say if the cave is a time portal. Though, after seeing your clothes, I’ll own they did no’ come from any world that I know.” He stood and started pacing. “That’s why I left them in the cave. There are cracks and crevices so deep that no man can retrieve anything that is thrown into them. And—” he came back to the bed, once more sitting on its edge “—strange as Smoo is known to be, I couldn’t all ow my kinsmen to see such raiments. Your shoes alone would have caused too many questions. That is why I stripped you.” His gaze flashed the length of her, the look in his eyes burning her as if he could see her nakedness right through the thickness of the furred covering and bed sheets.
“And you’re not curious yourself?” Lindy had to ask.
His gaze burned even hotter. “All I care about, sweet, is having you with me.”
Taking her in his arms again, he kissed her thoroughly, leaving her breathless when he pulled away. “You could have come to me draped in seaweed or glittering from head to toe in twinkly starlight and it wouldn’t have made a difference. I only want you.”
“But – ”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “There are no buts in my world, Lindy-lass. Though I will tell you that, as a MacGraith, I slipped into this life knowing that there are things we canna ever hope to explain.
“MacGraiths are the hereditary guardians of Smoo Cave. Since time was, we have been here at Castle Daunt, watching always to ensure that nothing passes in or out of the cave without our knowledge.”
Lindy stared at him. “So you’re fairies?” The plots of countless paranormal romance novels came to mind. “Immortals guarding the entrance to—”
“Guarding, aye, but we’re no’ immortal.” He laughed, grinning again. “We’re flesh-and-blood men, as rock solid as any other man.” His smile turned wicked again and he pulled her back into his arms, holding her close. “You should know how solid I am, Lindy-sweet.”
She flushed, knowing indeed.
Hissolidnesswas very apparent, though neither one of them had yet acknowledged the obvious.
It was one thing to be naked together and burn up the sheets in a dream. Being naked in his armsfor realwas both a wildly exhilarating thought and flat out terrifying.
And not alarming without reason.
Trying to be discreet, Lindy cast an assessing glance at her well -covered body. The sad fact was that, although Rogan was undoubtedly passionately in love with her in fantasy form, therealLindy Lovejoy might just be packing a few pounds more than the dream edition.
Sure that was true, her cheeks flamed brighter.
How sad that her love of fish and chips had kept pace with her around Scotland.
Not to mention haggis with neeps and tatties.
Or steak and ale pie.
Lindy frowned, wondering if she could just stay hidden beneath the covers forever.
A notion that brought another, equally disturbing thought. How could she think in terms of eternity when she might only be here a nano-second? She’d spent too many hours working at Ye Olde Pagan Times not to be well versed in the ins and outs of all things supernatural.
Her manifestation in Rogan’s time had surely upset the balance in her own world.
Something somewhere wasn’t right.
It was kind of like plucking a thread from a knitted sweater. No matter how carefully you pulled, a hole appeared.
“Oh, God.” Dread tightened her chest and heat burned her eyes, blurring the richly appointed room and all its lush, oh-so-realmedievaltrappings.
Rogan sprang off the bed. “What is it?” His gaze flew to her injured hands. “Are you in pain? Did I tie the bandages too tight?”
Snorribarked, sharing his master’s concern.
