for us to get out, it’s equally difficult for anyone else to get in, aye?”
He was right. Apparently she needed to start thinking more medieval.
He leaned across to the fire, pulling and pushing bits about until the flames burned low, and then, with a muttered “Sleep well,” he rolled into his plaid and grew silent.
Dani fussed with her own pile of woolens and furs, finally getting as comfortable as possible, her back to Malcolm and the horses.
He lay two and half, maybe three feet from her, at most. If she rolled to her side and stretched out her arm, she could touch him.
Not that she would.
Still, the knowledge was unsettling. Almost as unsettling as the vision that danced through her mind of him on her first night in this world: his dark hair falling loose at his shoulders, his skin gleaming bronze in the firelight, that mark over his heart that had captured her attention, highlighting what she’d admit was one very impressive chest.
She’d been mere inches away from him then. Close enough she could have traced that mark with a fingertip. Traced it over skin she had no doubt would be warm and solid and—
Stop it!
Right now, before she started to breathe heavier than the damn horses.
She tried to fill her mind with the stone circle and, when that failed, with the faces of all the people she’d met at MacGahan Castle.
Each try failed, fading back into that flickering room and the expanse of decorated muscle that even now lay within easy reach.
“What’s that mark on your chest mean? That round tattoo thing?”She blurted out the question, desperate to distract her thoughts from the path they were on.
“A family mark,” he said after a moment, his voice deep and rumbly. “Protection for the House of Odin. Now go to sleep. We’ll need to be up and on our way at first light.”
She rolled to her back, considering what he’d said.
Odin.
These guys were descended from Vikings? She’d read somewhere about Vikings invading Scotland, hadn’t she? Which would also explain Elesyria calling Patrick a Northman.
Her mind raced as she tried to concentrate on the mark, but each attempt simply filled her mind’s eye with flexing pectoral muscles.
She rolled to her side and found him staring at her.
“Go to sleep,” he said again, more like an order to an unruly three-year-old this time.
With a tug on her blanket and an audible huff, she rolled to her other side, her back facing Malcolm.
Sleep? Not likely. Not now. Not unless counting ripples on his chest would work as well as counting sheep, because chest ripples were all she was able to envision when she closed her eyes.
It was shaping up to be one very long night.
T hirteen
W ITH THE SUN little more than a promise in the sky, Dani stood in the doorway, surveying her surroundings. Sometime in the night, the snow had stopped, leaving only a light covering on the ground. It was still cold, but hopefully that would improve as the sun actually made its appearance.
A few feet away, Malcolm stood next to her horse, as if waiting to help her mount.
Right, then. New day in her new world. According to Elesyria, this was her reality now, so she might as well make the best of it with a fresh start. After so many years of feeling as if she merely existed on the sidelines of other people’s lives, waiting for whatever it was the Fae had planned for her, she was more than ready to jump into this life with both feet.
She simply wanted to make sure that when she landed, those feet were firmly planted, and the best way she could see for that was to start off with a clean slate. No regrets, no secrets.
Especially since the man in whose home she’d ended up didn’t seem to want her here very much. If this was where she belonged, she needed to make surenothing interfered with her being here until she could determine exactly why it was she belonged here.
Besides, there was another, more personal, reason for making sure she started off right with Malcolm. Maybe
He was right. Apparently she needed to start thinking more medieval.
He leaned across to the fire, pulling and pushing bits about until the flames burned low, and then, with a muttered “Sleep well,” he rolled into his plaid and grew silent.
Dani fussed with her own pile of woolens and furs, finally getting as comfortable as possible, her back to Malcolm and the horses.
He lay two and half, maybe three feet from her, at most. If she rolled to her side and stretched out her arm, she could touch him.
Not that she would.
Still, the knowledge was unsettling. Almost as unsettling as the vision that danced through her mind of him on her first night in this world: his dark hair falling loose at his shoulders, his skin gleaming bronze in the firelight, that mark over his heart that had captured her attention, highlighting what she’d admit was one very impressive chest.
She’d been mere inches away from him then. Close enough she could have traced that mark with a fingertip. Traced it over skin she had no doubt would be warm and solid and—
Stop it!
Right now, before she started to breathe heavier than the damn horses.
She tried to fill her mind with the stone circle and, when that failed, with the faces of all the people she’d met at MacGahan Castle.
Each try failed, fading back into that flickering room and the expanse of decorated muscle that even now lay within easy reach.
“What’s that mark on your chest mean? That round tattoo thing?”She blurted out the question, desperate to distract her thoughts from the path they were on.
“A family mark,” he said after a moment, his voice deep and rumbly. “Protection for the House of Odin. Now go to sleep. We’ll need to be up and on our way at first light.”
She rolled to her back, considering what he’d said.
Odin.
These guys were descended from Vikings? She’d read somewhere about Vikings invading Scotland, hadn’t she? Which would also explain Elesyria calling Patrick a Northman.
Her mind raced as she tried to concentrate on the mark, but each attempt simply filled her mind’s eye with flexing pectoral muscles.
She rolled to her side and found him staring at her.
“Go to sleep,” he said again, more like an order to an unruly three-year-old this time.
With a tug on her blanket and an audible huff, she rolled to her other side, her back facing Malcolm.
Sleep? Not likely. Not now. Not unless counting ripples on his chest would work as well as counting sheep, because chest ripples were all she was able to envision when she closed her eyes.
It was shaping up to be one very long night.
T hirteen
W ITH THE SUN little more than a promise in the sky, Dani stood in the doorway, surveying her surroundings. Sometime in the night, the snow had stopped, leaving only a light covering on the ground. It was still cold, but hopefully that would improve as the sun actually made its appearance.
A few feet away, Malcolm stood next to her horse, as if waiting to help her mount.
Right, then. New day in her new world. According to Elesyria, this was her reality now, so she might as well make the best of it with a fresh start. After so many years of feeling as if she merely existed on the sidelines of other people’s lives, waiting for whatever it was the Fae had planned for her, she was more than ready to jump into this life with both feet.
She simply wanted to make sure that when she landed, those feet were firmly planted, and the best way she could see for that was to start off with a clean slate. No regrets, no secrets.
Especially since the man in whose home she’d ended up didn’t seem to want her here very much. If this was where she belonged, she needed to make surenothing interfered with her being here until she could determine exactly why it was she belonged here.
Besides, there was another, more personal, reason for making sure she started off right with Malcolm. Maybe
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