Everlastin' Book 1 (39 page)

“Lachlan, I asked you a
question.”

He winced then forced a
ghost of a smile on his face before he looked at Beth. “Weel....”
He squirmed a bit and looked below again. “Roan and the womon
click.”

“Click?”

“Aye, Beth. We...clicked,
you know.” He grinned at her now. “You thought it was the
moonlight, darlin', but a mon knows these things.” He looked below
and released a quick breath. “Finally the damn fool is takin'
matters to hand like a mon.”

Something in Lachlan's smug
tone set off a warning in Beth. Hastening out of the tub, her body
slick with water and patches of bubbles, she went to stand beside
him. Below, Roan and Laura were in a heated exchange of words. Beth
didn't need to hear them to know their stubbornness was escalating
the awkward situation between them. It was easy for Beth to
sympathize with Laura's unease at being stuck in a foreign country
with strangers. But she also admired Roan's determination to do
what he thought was best for the woman and her nephews. Any other
man might have said to hell with the whole mess. But if Roan was
about to do what she thought he might—

Beth groaned as she observed
the man below yank the woman into his arms and kiss her to silence
her onslaught of verbal abuse. Looking askance at Lachlan, she saw
his expression was radiant with pride. It had been his advice that
Roan was acting upon.

However, it was Roan who was
about to pay the penalty.

“Tis a smart mon who listens
to his elders,” Lachlan crooned, a twinkle in his eyes.

But his expression crumbled
to one of disbelief when Laura wormed out of Roan's arms and her
knee shot up to nail him in the groin. Lachlan shriveled as if he
had been the one left kneeling on the ground. Turning, he shuffled
to the toilet and lowered himself onto the wooden seat. Beth
watched him, a grin twitching on her lips.

“He said she was a stubborn
womon,” he muttered, running his hands over his face.

“I don't think she
retaliated out of stubbornness,” Beth said airily, slightly peeved
that Lachlan had not as yet noticed her nakedness. “Roan is a big
man. She probably reacted out of fear.”

“Fear, ma eye,” Lachlan
growled, scowling up at Beth. “Tis a sad state o' affairs when a
mon canna carry on the monly traditions o' his
forefaithers!”

Beth released a terse laugh.
“Meaning, grabbing a woman and kissing her when she doesn't want to
be kissed?”

A retort aborted on
Lachlan's lips and a flustered tint of red colored his
cheeks.

“What's this affinity you
have with Roan all of a sudden?”

“Tis wha' you wanted,” he
scowled. “Twas you who sent him here when the accident
happened!”

“Yes, it was me.”

Lachlan rose to his feet.
“You wanted to throw us thegither. I admit I could do naught to
help the womon wi’ou' him, and I've told him as much. I've offered
him ma precious stones, and he can have this damn house and
everythin’ in it—”

Beth's laugh further rattled
him. Closing the distance between them, he curled his strong
fingers about her upper arms and drew her against his hard body.
Forgotten was his hangover.

“Ye're the most fickle
craiture I've ever had the displeasure to know, Beth Staples! I
gave Ingliss good advice. A womon is never more flexible than when
she's in love!”

“Laura Bennett and Roan
Ingliss are strangers to one another,” Beth said calmly, resisting
a strong urge to press even closer to Lachlan's body. She was
enjoying him being on the receiving end for a change, but she was
also growing heady to snuggle in his arms.

“So were we,” said Lachlan,
confused.

“But the connection,
ma lad,
hurried things
along,” she reminded him. “So let nature run its course. The advice
of a nineteenth-century ghost will only complicate
matters.”

“Complicate, you
say!”

“Why do you always repeat
something I say?”

“Just add it to the long
list o' faults I have, darlin',” he said heatedly, unconsciously
kneading the soft, moist flesh held captive beneath his fingers.
“Tell me somethin', is there a damned thing I do right in yer
eyes?”

Beth deliberately let him
think she was mulling over a reply. When several seconds passed,
she said with deceptive ease, “You make a decent cup of tea. You
can be compassionate and generous when the mood strikes you. You're
an adequate lover—”

The rest of the sentence
became lost in her throat. Lachlan's head lowered and his mouth
imprisoned her lips in a masterful, torrid kiss. Beth sighed within
herself as his arms circled her, molding her against the hard
planes and contours of his body. She knew his initial intention was
to punish her for her words, but he kissed her deeply, with the
love for her she knew filled him so completely.

Sliding her arms around to
his back, she reached up to thread her fingers through his thick
hair. She loved the feel and smell of him, the physical strength
and mastery of him. She loved everything that comprised the very
essence of Lachlan Baird, and now the fires of passion were raging
within her.

Gratification was not only
for the young or the living.

Love existed on and on,
through time.

Lachlan's large hands framed
her face. He kissed her hungrily, want and need vying to wash
asunder the tenderness he strove to bestow on her. He didn't want
to argue about past issues. They were beings of different
conditionings, of different cultures, of different minds, but they
were as right for each other as two lovers could be. If to pass on
to the next plane made her happy, he would join her without
regret.

His hand slid down the
delicate contours of her back, over the smooth, rounded firmness of
her—

“Good God, womon!” he
groaned, only separating their mouths by a hair'sbreadth. “You've
no' a stitch on!”

“Sometimes, Lachlan....”
Beth sighed with an undertone of amusement. Placing her hands to
his powerful jawline, she stared adoringly into his eyes. “I love
you.”

“Wi' all ma
faults?”

She smiled through a blush.
“Aye.”

“I know I can be
headstrong.” He kissed her brow then the tip of her nose. “But I do
love you wi' every fiber o' ma bein', Beth.”

“I know you do.”

A shy smile quirked on his
mouth, this boyish side of him sending a trilling sensation through
Beth. Lachlan swept her up in his arms. He kissed her briefly then,
to her confusion, he stepped in the direction of the tub—not the
bedroom as she had anticipated. Without explanation, he lowered her
into the water. He kissed her again, lingeringly, then straightened
up and peeled out of his shirt.

Beth watched him, her gaze
sweeping over him, cataloging his every movement. When he tossed
his pants aside and placed one foot in the tub, she stared up at
him in awe. His body never failed to excite her, to leave her in
wonderment. She managed to meet his gaze as he lowered himself into
her bath, the water rising to the rim of the tub. They were facing
each other, his knees above the ebbing foam, his back braced to the
side of the faucet.

“This is nice,” Beth said,
her eyes lit with mischief.

“Weel, now, darlin',”
Lachlan drawled, bringing cupped water to his face and splashing it
over him. “Afore I drag yer enticin' bones into the next room and
ravish you—” He paused to flash her a devilish smile. “—there are a
few matters we need to settle.”

“Oh? Can't this wait till
later?”

Lachlan released a long
sigh, its sound telling Beth that he was as impatient as she to
retire to the bedroom and make love until their energies were
spent.

“I may be o' a primitive
mind in this day and age, but I do wha' I believe is right.
Granted, the grudge I held wi' the Ingliss clan was long
unreasonable, but I have made ma peace wi' Roan. Now—”

“Lachlan—”

“Dinna be interruptin' a mon
when he's abou' to choke down a fat old corbie.”

“A what?” she laughed then
sobered. “Sorry.”

“Ye're forgiven this time.”
He winked at her. “A corbie be a crow. Now, ma part o' the enmity
is gone, and—”

“You're sure about
that?”

“As sure as can be. You
dinna share yer best scotch wi' a mon unless there's bondin' to be
done.”

It was all Beth co do to
keep a straight face. “Of course. Go on.”

“So, I've made ma peace wi'
the mon, but I want you to know, Beth, it was a cruel means you
used to put he and I thegither.”

“It wouldn’t have been
necessary if you both weren't so damn thickheaded.”

“I see.” Lachlan folded
himself in half and dipped his head beneath the water. As he
straightened, he flipped his wet hair behind his head. Unnoticed,
Beth and Lachlan's every movement sloshed water over the sides of
the tub.

“Tell me, Beth, did you miss
me at all those long weeks?”

“Terribly.”

Lachlan arched a brow. “And
yet you stayed away?”

“I felt I had no choice.
Lachlan, experiencing my own anger was hard enough to deal with.
Experiencing yours was strangling me.”

“So....” Filliping the
water, he sent a spray at Beth. “You must be feelin' smug tha' yer
scheme worked.”

Linking her fingers at the
back of her neck, she grinned at him. “Smug is a good word. Yeah,
you could say I'm feeling a wee smug.”

“And are you o' the opinion
you'll always get yer own way?”

“Only in matters I feel
strongly about.”

Lachlan bobbed his head, his
brows drawn down in thought. “So we're goin' to disagree now and
then, aye?”

“We'll probably always
disagree on some things.”

“Does tha' bother
you?”

For several long moments,
Beth studied the troubled depths of his eyes. “No, it doesn't
bother me. Most couples have differences of opinion, but it doesn't
stop them from loving each other.”

“But the
Inglisses—”

“That was different.
Lachlan, all the qualities I love most in you became lost to that
hatred. Even if we hadn't been connected, I couldn't have stood by
and allowed it to go on.”

Planting her feet to each
side of his hips, Beth pulled herself closer to him. When she
stopped, Lachlan reached beneath the water, flattened his palms to
her lower spine, and drew her forward until their groins met. Beth
cupped her hands behind his neck, leaned to and kissed him briefly
on the chin.

“In our own clumsy ways,
we've been helping each other to grow. You did everything in your
power to make my death as easy as possible for me, and I did what I
thought was necessary to help you rid yourself of your emotional
shackles.”

“Do you understand why I
brought you here?”

“I do. Oh, Lachlan, I'm
sorry I didn't believe you sooner, but I needed the time alone to
come to terms with myself. And now that I have, I promise I will
never leave you again.”

“I'll pass on wi' you,
Beth—through the fires o' hell if necessary.” He pulled her into
his arms, heedless of the water pooling on the floor. “I'm no'
afraid o' losin' you, anymair. I refuse to believe a merciful god
could separate us. There's the purgin' afore we can go
on....”

He kissed her deeply. When
he lifted his head and stared into her eyes, his own were filled
with apprehension. “Our love will go on wi' us, winna
i'?”

“It will. I promise,” Beth
said breathlessly. “We'll always be together and feeling as we do
now.” She brushed the back of her fingers along his cheek then
rested her brow to his chin. “But we don't have to pass on until
we're ready.” Looking into his eyes again, she smiled. “I agree
with tying up loose ends.”

The worry fled from
Lachlan's face and his eyes danced with joy. “You do, do
you?”

“Yeah. I'd like to spend
some time here with you before we trek off into the
unknown.”

“And here I thought I loved
you for yer button nose,” he chuckled.

Together they stood in the
tub. Lachlan stepped out first and, turning, he scooped Beth up
into his arms. She wrapped her arms about his neck, her cheek
pressed to his collarbone as he carried her into the next room.
Through his force of will, three logs rose from a black wrought
iron stand beside the fireplace and inserted themselves in the
hearth. By the time he lowered her upon the bed, a fire was taking
the chill out of the room.

The feather mattress sagged
beneath his weight as he lowered himself atop her, into her waiting
arms. They kissed long and passionately, deeply, exploringly. Then
he shifted to one side to allow a hand the pleasure of roaming over
her slick form. For what seemed an eternity, he'd ached to touch
her again.

His trembling fingers moved
along the contours of her breast, the flat, firmness of her belly,
the soft-skinned slopes of her inner thighs. He ended the kiss to
seek the hard erect nipple on her breast. Enclosing it within the
soft inner lining of his lips, he brushed his tongue along the
peak. The sound of her moan filled him with warmth. His tongue
circled the nipple again and again, prompting her to arch up
against him. When she could no longer bear the gentleness of his
suckling, she thread her fingers through his wet hair and urged him
closer.