Just Wait For Me (Highland Gardens Book 3) (20 page)

“What do you mean by someone from the past?” Jillian asked
in a hushed tone. “Who?”

“Do you remember the Gray Women of the caves? I thought I
saw the one with the emerald eyes standing by the doorway a moment ago.”
Stephen shook his head. “Ach. I must be mistaken.”

“Perhaps it was the elder woman who arrived late to the
ceremony,” Jillian mused aloud. “I couldn’t discern the color of her eyes, but
she seemed eerily familiar.”

“If ’twas the woman I am thinking of, she was the one that
gifted you the fae blades.”

“How would she have gotten here? Why would she have come?”

“The same way as us, I would venture. But the why?” Stephen
flipped both hands palm up. “I cannot offer a reason.”

“Do you think she wants the blades returned? They are museum
quality and probably worth a mint. I never expected to keep them.”

“What are you two plotting?” Laurie joined them. “I hope
you’re not planning your escape from the celebration. At least, not yet.”

“Nae need to worry about
the bedding
ritual in this
time period.” Patrick winked at Jillian, offering his hand. “They are playing a
slow song. How about dancing with the best man?”

“Of course.” She allowed him to swirl her into the wake of
other dancers and gave up the speculation about the emerald-eyed woman.

Stephen and Laurie also took to the dance floor. Shortly
afterward, Jillian stood to the side with Brigit, the owner of the
Le Petit
Café
, and Elspeth. “I want to thank you both for the wonderful job you did
catering the cocktail hour and dinner. Everything was delicious.”

Brigit beamed. “You’re welcome.”

Elspeth squeezed Jillian’s hand. “We wanted to make your day
special, so we took extra care with the menu.”

Stephen danced past with Keita mounted on the tops of his
feet. The child laughed and grinned—a lopsided, deformed smile, but one of joy.
Jillian’s chest filled with warmth, her love for Keita only second to that
which she felt for Stephen.

“He is good with the
bairns
,” Elspeth said. “He will
make a terrific father.”

“I believe so,” Jillian agreed. “Though I’m nervous about
the adoptive proceedings since he—”

“You will both do fine.” Elspeth tilted her head toward
Brigit in warning, reminding Jillian the French woman didn’t know about the
oddities of those living in her community.

Around ten o’clock, Mairi escorted the yawning Keita and
Duff upstairs to bed. It was two hours past the bedtime Jillian had mandated
upon their arrival in Anderson Creek, but an exception had been made for this
one day. Jillian and Stephen were to stay in one of the guest cottages for
their wedding night. From experience, Jillian knew the celebration would last
far into the wee hours of the next morning with much whisky being consumed.

“Do I see a glimmer in your eye, sweetling?” Stephen asked.
“Are you ready to become my wife in truth?”

“Absolutely. Let’s sneak away.”

At the cottage door, Stephen picked Jillian up and cradled
her in strong arms. She gave him a questioning look. “’Tis believed evil
spirits inhabit the thresholds of doors, you ken?”

“You don’t believe that. Do you?”

“Nae, but it gives me a reason to hold you in my arms. Not
that I need an excuse.” He strode through the living room and into the bedroom
and gently laid her on their wedding bed, which had been strewn with all sorts
of flower petals.

Jillian sneezed. “I think someone must have accidently
included ragweed with the other blooms.” She scrunched her nose to hold back
another sneeze. “But I have an idea. Since everyone will be partying at the inn
until the wee hours, how about we take a blanket out into the garden and enjoy
the waxing moon?”

Pillow in hand, and with nothing but a tartan blanket
clasped by Stephen’s emerald brooch wrapped around her, Jillian strolled
hand-in-hand with him to a grassy spot within the garden surrounded by
evergreen shrubs.

“The perfect place for a tryst with one’s wife,” he said, a
suggestive grin curving his lips.

He placed another tartan on the grassy padding and Jillian
added the pillow then sat. She carefully removed the brooch holding the wool in
place. “By the way, thank you for my beautiful emerald ring.”

“You are welcome.” Stephen grinned. “I was pleased to learn
the wee gems I brought with me from the past are of great value in this time.
You are wed to a wealthy man.”

“I love you despite the fault.”

Stephen’s lips pursed. “Fault?”

To make up for the dig, she slowly unwrapped the fabric,
first revealing one breast, then the other. She felt awkward playing the vamp,
but when she exposed the cleft between her legs, Stephen’s quick inhale of
breath made the striptease worth the rush of nervous heat flushing her neck and
face.

“Ach, lass, you are beautiful in the moonlight.” His voice
was gravelly with desire…

For her
. She preened at the sexy sound. Nipples
pebbled and aching, she arched her back, giving him a better view.

Stephen wasn’t one to neglect the offering Jillian set
before him. He quickly stripped and knelt beside the nymph he married.
Certainly, she was a forest sprite of ancient times sent to seduce him.

“Thank you for becoming my wife.”

Jillian blushed and stretched her arms out to him. He
slipped into the embrace and held her close, kissing her hair, her face, her
lips. Stephen took the kiss deeper, loving the rasp of their tongues performing
a mating dance.

“I love you,” Jillian whispered near his ear after their
lips parted and he pressed a kiss to the base of her throat.

He slid lower to lave a pert breast, sucking the pebbled
nipple into his mouth. Jillian arched into him, and he growled. The wet nipple
popped out of his mouth and she giggled. Had the nerve to laugh at him.

She brushed fingertips over his hair as if to tame him. “I
need to ask you something, I should have asked you before we got married.”

Unease crept across the back of his neck. “What is it?”

“Will you be disappointed if we don’t have a child of our
own? If for some reason I can’t have a baby?”

Disappoint him? So that was what she feared. “Nae,
sweetling. Childbearing is risky. I lost my mother to the fever. And then my
wee brother also passed. I would understand completely if you are unwilling to
go through birthing a
bairn
.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to have a child. Having a baby
is much less dangerous in this time than it was in the past. It’s just that
there is a chance… Well, some women are unable to have babies. What if I am one
of those?”

“Nae worries, lass.” He squeezed and released her fingers.

“But isn’t having a son important to you?”

“Creating a son—or a wee lass—with you would give me great
joy. Whether that happens or nae, I am happy to call Keita daughter and Duff
and Malcolm sons.”

Jillian lunged for him, rolled him over, and kissed him with
a frenzy that left Stephen breathless and more than ready to perform his
husbandly duty. He placed a palm on each side of her head and kissed her hard.
She slid onto his erection, and he bucked. The exquisite pleasure near to pain.
He needed…

She didn’t leave him wanting. She rode him to a world full
of light. Love mingling with the pleasure pulsing along his cock. They reached
the pinnacle simultaneously and plunged over the edge with their lips fused,
Stephen’s seed pumping deep into Jillian’s womb.

He lingered within the bliss for a spell, satiated, limbs
entwined with his love’s, her breath against his chest. Then it occurred to him
that he gripped her too tightly, but he couldn’t seem to let her go. He
loosened his hold. “Are you all right, sweetling?”

“Heavenly.”

He kissed her and rolled to the side, giving her space to
breathe. They lay hip against hip, holding hands, enjoying the evening sky, a
slight breeze cooling their skin.

Suddenly, Jillian stiffened beside him. Sat bolt upright.

“What’s wrong?” He rose to a sitting position, too.

“Was that a giggle?” Her gaze scanned the shadows. “I feel
as if someone watches us.

“I dinnae think anyone is there, sweetling.”

“
My God! Emerald eyes
. Of course. Why hadn’t I
thought of it sooner?” She gripped his arm. “You saw Caitrina. She must have
posed as the hag in the past and the elderly woman at the reception and
possibly at the ceremony.”

* * *

Caitrina didn’t allow the glamour of invisibility to falter
as she peered through the shrubs at Jillian and Stephen. She hadn’t meant to
make the silly sound, to give herself away. The giggle had slipped from
smirking lips. And how could she have avoided the utterance?

She won!
She shot her arms in the air and swiveled
her hips, performing a victory dance.

Besides, the excitement of witnessing Stephen and Jillian
conceive a new life made her giddy. She’d be like an aunt to the child. That
is, if she were to stay on earth. But alas, the challenge was now complete, and
she was free to return to
Tir-nan-Og
as a royal princess.

Her greatest desire fulfilled.

Then why did sadness overcome her as she faded into the
vanishing, leaving Jillian and Stephen alone to enjoy the remainder of their
wedding night?

Caitrina emerged into substance in the courtyard behind
The
Celtic Image
shop. Douglas had outfitted the space like a medieval list.
’Twas where he trained wealthy men who wanted to pretend they were sixteenth
century warriors. They participated in tournaments on weekends, calling
themselves reenactors. Men hadn’t changed much throughout time.

She sensed Douglas watching from the shadows.

“Why did you leave the reception?” she asked.

“Why should I have stayed?” His voice slid over her,
triggering desire and other emotions better left hushed. “I offered best wishes
to the bride and groom.”

“I was there.”

He stepped into the beam of light shining down from the
brass fixture hanging on the wall beside the shop’s door. He’d been working out
and wore naught but a pair of snug fitness shorts and a moist sheen on his
tanned skin. “As yourself or someone else, princess?”

She ignored the taunt and insinuation in his tone. “I
wanted—”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her close and
covered her mouth with the softest, sensual lips she’d had the pleasure to
kiss. Wet and deep, his kiss was all-consuming, his tongue exploring the moist
recesses of her mouth. She became liquid within his arms. Wanting and needing
what only he could provide. When he leaned away, he left her panting, wet and
needy.

“Marry me.” His finger encircled her wrist, thumb over her
frantically beating pulse. “I feel your love for me.”

In an attempt to harness wayward emotions, Caitrina twirled
her fingers in the hair on his chest, stalling for time. She gazed into amber
eyes. In return, he searched her gaze, seeking the answer she couldn’t give. “I
cannot wed you.”

His lips thinned as expected. Annoyance darkening his eyes.
“One of these days you’ll give me the right answer.” He jerked away and leaned
against the shop door, arms crossed over a broad chest.

Regret seared the human portion of her halfling heart.
Saying goodbye to him would surely be the hardest thing she’d ever need do.
There was no place for him in
Tir-nan-Og
. She could never wed a mortal
man.

Then her thoughts brightened. She now had the freedom to
come and go as she pleased. She could visit him on occasion. Then a thought as
chilling as a winter frost froze her blood. Caitrina remembered how he seemed
to fancy a certain red-headed singer from a Scottish tribal band that
frequented the Highland Gathering at Grandfather Mountain every July.

Would Douglas follow the singer from gig to gig, or find
someone else to mate with while Caitrina enjoyed the pleasures of Faerie
paradise? Would he give up on their love? Abandon their bond? Marry another?

She stepped into him, hoping he would embrace her, send her
away with his taste on her lips.

“Nae worries, love. I’ll keep asking until you agree.” He
rubbed gentle fingers over the furrow in her brow. “What has you vexed? Surely
not my desire for us to spend the rest of our lives together?”

“I need to go away for a time.”

“You mustn’t.” He roughly gripped her upper arms and shook.
“The queen will never let you return to earth. You will become her pet, kept in
a luxuriously decadent cage.”

“What ken you of the queen or my future?” Caitrina raised
her chin.
How could he ken anything about the queen? Or her eternal life? He
was naught but a mere mortal.

“More than I can share at this time.” He dropped his hands,
curling them into fists at his sides.

The lure of
Tir-nan-Og
called to her. She needed to
leave Douglas before she made a regrettable mistake and agreed to marry the
damn man and became rooted to earth.

“Caitrina…” Her name seemed torn from him. His voice and
amber gaze pleaded for her to remain.

She hesitated, fae and human halves warring. She couldn’t
stay. Unable to deal with the onslaught of emotion, Caitrina faded. He reached
for her. Before his touch could change her mind, she vanished.

“Damn your foolishness! The queen won’t let you return.” His
bitter words sent a burst of fear through her veins as she traveled on the
breeze. Would his warning ring true?

She reemerged just beyond the garden gate on the faerie
mound.

“Bravo! Bravo!” The queen clapped. “Such a touching scene.

The fine hairs at the back of Caitrina’s neck bristled. “You
have been watching.”

“Always,
princess
. I suppose I must call you
that
now. You may have won the challenge and the right to return to
Tir-nan-Og
as royalty, howbeit...” The queen held up a pampered hand to stop the retort
ready on Caitrina’s tongue. “You will never have what you truly desire.”

“And what would that be, pray tell?”

“Love eternal.”

“Ha! I dinnae want any such thing. I have nae time for such
drivel.” Caitrina laughed although it sounded forced even to her ear. Her fae
half found the queen’s declaration humorous. Faeries, as everyone kens, are
incapable of love. But she was also half human and in love with a human.
Totally and completely in love with Douglas.

“Then you will not mind that your father has betrothed you
to my son.”

A bolt of fear—
excitement
—pierced Caitrina’s belly.
“That cannot be.”

“’Tis true. Dugaid signed the contract with Prince Torgil in
fae blood. Your fate is irreversibly sealed.”

“Nae! ’Tis impossible. My father wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Oh, but he did.” The queen smiled like the Cheshire cat. “I
am sure the Dark Prince will give you a wee amount of time to adjust to the
happy tidings. Have no fear though, he will come for you if you refuse to go to
him.”

The queen’s smile dripped vengeance and, with a flash of
silver light, she vanished into the nether.

Caitrina stumbled to the garden and leaned against the gate
for support. What a fool she’d been. This was not how things were supposed to
go. She was to have lived the rest of eternity free of all encumbrances in
Tir-nan-Og
.
Not become the chattel of an overindulged, domineering fae prince. ’Twould have
been better to remain on earth as she’d been—in service to Mairi MacLachlan and
free to lovingly spar with Douglas.

* * *

Five months later

Charlotte, North Carolina

“Let’s go see our little girl.” Jillian opened the door and
they entered Keita’s hospital room. Jillian kissed the child’s forehead and
took a seat in the chair next to the bed. Stephen and Duff chose to stand.

“Hey, sweet pea,” she murmured to the imp lying so quiet on
the mattress.

Mossy green eyes, a tad glassy, glanced her way. The poor
dear appeared so tiny amidst the white sheets of the hospital bed. And with the
white cap on her head and the bandages covering the better part of her face,
all Jillian could see were those sweet, compelling eyes and pert nose.

An abrupt knock on the door preceded the entrance of Jasmine,
the pediatric nurse assigned to Keita for the morning shift. “How is our
patient doing?”

“We hoped you would tell us,” Stephen said.

Jasmine smiled and went about examining the child.

“Her vitals are good.” The nurse added a small glass bottle
of clear liquid to one of the ports lower on the intravenous tubing in addition
to a new fluids bag. “This should help with pain. She’s been advised not to try
to talk. I hope you will keep that in mind while you visit with her today.”

“Of course. We understand.” Jillian clasped Keita’s hand and
received a faint squeeze in return. The child comforting her. Her eyes misted.

“Please keep your stay short so she can rest. I’ll be back
later to check on her.” Jasmine gripped the doorknob. “If you have any
questions, feel free to stop by the nurse’s station.” She opened the door and
departed.

“Well, sweet pea, we’ll talk and you can listen. How’s
that?”

“Stephen said we can get a puppy when you come home,” Duff
blurted.

Stephen shot the lad a warning glance.

“Well, you did say you would think about us getting a dog.”

“And I will. Think about it.” Stephen chuckled.

Jillian was truly amazed at how easily Stephen and the
children had adapted to modern life. The transition wasn’t always smooth, but
amazing just the same.

“So, Keita. I thought we would celebrate your birthday after
you’re completely healed,” Jillian said, wanting the child to have something
special to look forward to while recovering from her surgery.

“We are changelings,” Duff said. “No one kens when we were born.”

“You are not changelings,” Stephen said. “You are our
bairns
as is Malcolm.”

Jillian sniffled to keep tears at bay. Both she and Stephen
loved the children. She rubbed her rounded belly with her free hand. The
children would be raised as brothers and sister to the child she would birth in
another four months. “As soon as Keita is well, we will see a man who will make
the adoption official.”

“Then I want to have a birthday, too.” The boy’s grin was
contagious.

“So you will.” She smiled at Stephen and he returned her
admiration. “When Keita comes home from the hospital, you can both pick days
from the calendar to claim as your birthdate.”

Stephen clasped Keita’s other hand and both he and Jillian
grasped Duff’s hands, creating a circle of love.