Everlastin' Book 1 (32 page)

Her retreat had awarded her
more than just a chance to come to terms with her feelings. There
in the infinite grayness, alone, without anything to distract her,
she'd come to touch upon the knowledge—atoms of information,
revelations, floating in the otherworld—waiting to be absorbed by
an intelligence and utilized. It was as if every person who had
ever traveled through the passage-way—the between place of the real
world and the grayness—had left behind some part of their being,
some portion of the experiences they'd had in life. And it had
struck her that high emotions were attached to every molecule, as
if the passageway was a repository where journeying souls purged
the psychological ties of their past existence.

She had found her own fear
of death among those fragments, along with the stark grief she'd
known after the deaths of her adoptive parents. There wasn't a
whole lot of Beth among those atoms, which told her she was still
holding dear to a life that was forever lost to her. She had yet to
release the anger, the joy, the other sorrows she'd known. But
these she could not relinquish as yet. She would hold them dear for
as long as she could, for she had learned that she had a purpose in
this quasi-existence, one as vital as the role she'd played in
making her mother's last years as comfortable as
possible.

Now she was here for
Lachlan, to challenge the anguish and rage that kept him bound to
his present existence. She had to somehow abolish his vista of his
past, or at least to prompt him to concentrate on the positive
events prior to Tessa's betrayal.

Lachlan sighed and lowered
his face into his hands. Painful heart sensations gripped Beth. She
didn't like to see him so despondent, so lonely. But she had to be
careful how much she gave in to him. Lachlan was a charmer, a man
confident in his prowess. Beth wanted nothing more than to lie in
his arms for countless hours, but lovemaking with him had a
tendency to reinforce his beliefs that a surrender to her needs
meant waiving her will as well.

A tingling sensation began
in her abdomen and slowly spread through her body with accompanying
warmth. Releasing a thready breath, she closed her eyes momentarily
in a vain attempt to still the desire simmering within her. She had
come to talk to Lachlan, to try to reason with his obstinate
side.

As if her hands had a mind
of their own, her trembling fingers untied the satin belt beneath
her breasts. She shucked the gown downward until it was but a lacy
pool about her ankles then stepped out of it. The fireplace's glow
tinged her nudity in golden and orange hues, shadowing and
accentuating the seductive curves of her body.

Steeling herself against the
shyness trying to beach her compelling awareness of what her
appearance would incite in Lachlan, she gracefully approached the
bed. He remained unaware of her. When she stopped within an arm's
reach of him, and still he did not look up, her confidence began to
succumb to a feeling of ridiculousness. She was about to turn to
retrieve the gown when something warm and firm clamped about her
right wrist. Startled, she found herself staring down into the
dark, turbulent depths of his eyes.

Her taut facial muscles
would not permit anything more than a nervous tick at one corner of
her mouth. She waited anxiously for Lachlan to say something as his
eyes made a slow appraisal of that part of her body visible above
the mattress. When his gaze lazily lifted to meet hers, she could
not determine his thoughts or his mood.

And when he finally spoke,
it was not what Beth had hoped to hear.

“Wha' do I have to sacrifice
for this wee mercy?”

A slow burn ignited within
Beth's core. Here she was, as naked as the day she was born, and
Lachlan was being flippant and snide.

Jerking her wrist free of
his hold, she whirled away. She kept her teeth clenched against a
retort as she snatched up the gown and fumbled to find the hemline
to slip over her head. Her skin was scorched with humiliation,
especially the back of her, which was exposed to his lascivious
scrutiny.

He doesn’t want a
companion,
she fumed,
he wants a mindless lover! A woman without a voice or a will
of her own!

She was about to pull the
gown over her head when the material was yanked from her hands.
Sharply turning her head, she saw the gown land on the floor
several feet away. Then strong, large hands were at her waist, and
she was spun around to face an imposing body as naked as her
own.

“I'm not in the mood now!”
she said, pushing against his broad chest.

“Darlin', ye're wearin' me
thin,” he sighed, his eyes gleaming with frustration. “Come to
bed.”

“Forget it!”

Muttering Gaelic, Lachlan
swept Beth up into his arms and unceremoniously tossed her onto the
bed. She squealed in surprise, but as soon as she hit the mattress,
she was working up to slip into the grayness. But Lachlan moved
swiftly, throwing his body atop hers and pinning her wrists to the
bed as he positioned himself to straddle her squirming hips and
abdomen.

Beth became livid with
impotent anger. As long as he was touching her, she couldn't slip
away to the grayness.

His focused energies had her
grounded.

Working one of her wrists
free, she rammed a fist into his jawline. Lachlan released a cry of
surprise and pain combined then, to her disbelief, he
laughed.

“You love to bust ma chops,
dinna you?” he chortled, anchoring the assaulting hand back to the
bed.

“Get off me.”

Lachlan gave her the
impression that he was seriously considering it before he grinned
down at her.

“Give me one good reason,
sweetness.”

“Because if you don't....”
Beth deliberately let her words trail off, her warning to linger
ominously in the air. But she should have known how Lachlan would
respond to that.

“I knew you'd miss me,” he
laughed, sensuously leaning to and nestling his arousal against the
softness of her belly. “Yer spittin' words come from a mouth achin'
for ma kisses. No. No. Dinna deny it, lass. Ye’re pantin' for me.
Admit it.”

“You worm!”

Lachlan released a guttural
sound, something Beth wasn't certain indicated exasperation, or
amusement. He lowered himself to capture her lips, but she
stubbornly turned her head aside and released a grunt of disgust.
However, he was not to be so easily put off. His lips, feeling
shockingly warm against her skin, moved against the side of her
neck. His teeth nipped, heightening the sensitivity of her flesh.
Then his tongue began to stroke, to call upon the fires deep within
her to quell her anger with him.

Almost against her will, she
moved her head, her lips seeking the texture and firmness of his
jawline. She slid a kiss along that ridge, her eyes closing to the
exquisite sensations frolicking in every part of her body. His lips
continued to move along her neck, over her collarbones, leaving a
burning trail of after-sensations.

“Lachlan,” she moaned,
breathless with desire.

She gave a halfhearted tug
to free her hands, wanting to thread her fingers through the
thickness of his hair and guide his tormenting mouth to other
yearning parts of her body. But Lachlan wasn't prepared to release
her as yet. Lifting his head, he stared deeply into her eyes, his
own betraying the fierce desire within him to possess her body. His
grip light but firm, he stretched her arms high above her head,
then lowered his own and targeted one of her earlobes with his
teeth.

A spear of delight pierced
her. Shock waves of pleasure, searing and wondrous, crashed down on
her, banishing any residual resistance that might have been
lingering deep within her subconscious.

“I love you,” he said by her
ear. Lifting up, he ran his hands with seductive slowness down her
arms, his gaze heatedly locked with hers. “We belong
thegither.”

“Don't talk.”

Lachlan kissed her then,
hungrily, deeply, his tongue exploring the warm, moist recesses of
her mouth before their tongues began to stroke in rhythm to the
movements of their bodies. Instinctively, he slid between her
thighs, nesting himself against the enticing valley that had been
unmercifully dogging his thoughts for what seemed an
eternity.

The kiss went on, Beth's
arms locking about his neck, Lachlan's brawny hands petting and
kneading her shoulders, her back, her hips. She was blissfully lost
to all but the incredible sensations filling her. Lachlan had a way
of making her feel more than any living soul could. His mouth made
an ardent trail to her left breast, where he surrounded the dark,
erect peak and began to suckle.

Her groan came from the
depths of her.

His teeth nipped with
maddening gentleness, then his tongue swirled and lapped and
teased, bringing her to a point of desperation to quench the fires
building within her loins.

“I love you,” she gasped,
and closed her eyes when, muttering Gaelic endearments, he moved
his hands to her shoulders and drew her up. She reveled in the
kisses he planted all over her face. His hands, smooth and strong,
slid over her spine and hips, drawing her further onto his lap,
inching her toward the rigid implement throbbing to enter her
body.

Impatient with his slowness,
Beth wrapped trembling fingers about his manhood and guided it into
her. A stilted groan emanated deep from within Lachlan, while she
released an airy, slow breath of satisfaction. She was about to
thrust herself completely onto him when he gasped. His hands flew
to her shoulders and, to her utter disbelief, he held her away with
a look of shock tightening his features.

Her first notion was that he
thought her too bold, but the more she studied his face, his
expression crumbling to something akin to horror, the more confused
she became.

Unwilling to dwell on what
was wrong with him, she moved her hips forward, taking him in
deeper, and using those muscles to entice him back into his
previous mood. But Lachlan groaned piteously.

“I forgot! Damn the stars,
womon, I canna waste ma energies now!”

Beth's mouth dropped open as
she stared at him in sheer incredulity. She remained in numbed
shock when he quickly lowered her to the mattress and sprang from
the bed.

“Tis a night o' business,
Beth,” he explained breathlessly, scrambling into his clothes while
casting her body several looks of raw yearning. “Yer timin' is
lousy.”

Blinking, her lips still
parted, Beth drew herself up into a sitting position.
“What?”

“Yer timin', womon!” He
expelled a breath of exasperation and brushed the back of a hand
across his brow. “This will have to wait. Sweet Jesus,” he added
with a groan, hungrily staring at her breasts. “The one night a
year....Weel, tis business. You understand?”

“No, I don't understand.”
With a shaky laugh, Beth made an airy gesture with a hand. “Was it
my imagination, or were we just in the midst of making
love?”

“Aye.” Lachlan leveled a
vulturous look on her. “And I'll be in a world o' hurt for the rest
o' the day,” he grumbled, tugging on the crotch of his black pants.
“Was tha' yer plan? to make me forget ma
responsibilities?”

“Now wait
one...damn...minute,” she fumed, slipping from the bed. “What the
hell are you talking about?”

Lachlan didn't answer right
away. His expression was that of a tortured man as his gaze moved
up and down her body.

“Lachlan!”

Reluctantly, he looked into
her fiery eyes. “Aye, love?”

“Have you been
drinking?”

“No' a drop. I told you,
I've business. You know we canna stretch our energies too
thin.”

Brushing past him with an
unmistakable air of hostility, Beth retrieved her gown. But as she
was about to put it on over her head, Lachlan again snatched it
from her grasp.

“Give me that!”

Lachlan flipped the gown
behind him and placed his hands on his hips. “It makes you look
like a bloody spook.”

His words had the effect of
a slap in the face, and she went rigid with anger. “I happen to
like that dress. And, I
am
a spook! Or aren't you that same pain-in-the-ass
who was so determined to make me accept my death?”

“Pain-in-the-ass, you say?”
Lachlan puffed himself up, his eyes furious and snapping. “A lady
would choke sayin' bahookie, let alone...
ass!”

“Maybe in your century.” She
made a move to get her gown, but he blocked her with a swift side
step.

“I'll burn the damn
thing!”

“Try it.” Beth straightened
back her shoulders and flashed him a lancing look. “You have far
more to lose in this house than I do.”

“Ye're just bein' stubborn!
I hate tha' gown!”

“I love it!”

A visual showdown ensued for
several long moments.

“Tis the gown Tessa wore
when she done me in,” he said finally, his shoulders quaking with
anger.