Opening my eyes, I glanced over my shoulder and smiled at him. Instead of lust in his eyes, I only saw love.
"Ian—"
A knock on the door cut off my words.
Ian sighed again. "Aye?" he called.
Through the door a man's voice called. "The patrol has an update you should hear."
Sitting up, I turned and covered my arms over my chest. The door was closed and I was shielded by Ian's body, but the bubble of our time together was broken.
Stroking the excess water from my hair, he looked at me. "I must tend to this."
I nodded. "Of course."
"When I return, I want you naked and in my bed. Awake, lass, and verra wet."
He stood and I watched as he dressed, white shirt over his head and then mesmerized by the complex way he donned his kilt. As he worked the belt buckle, he glanced up at me. "I dinna care how ye get yer pussy wet, but ye are nay to come. Aye?"
I loved the way his brogue got thicker the more aroused he became. He leaned down and kissed me, gently and slowly. His lips were soft and warm, and I didn't need more than that to be wet for him.
"Wait for me, my heart."
He stood to his full height and went to the door, only opening it wide enough to slip through, allowing no one that stood beyond to see me.
I settled back into the water and smiled to myself. I hadn't been happier, more content in… ever. I had no idea how long I remained in the tub, daydreaming, but I heard the door open, then close.
"You're back. That was faster than I expected. As you can see, I'm wet for you."
I smiled and turned to look up at Ian, but my eyes widened when I discovered Glynnis above me instead. She had a wild glint in her eye, dark and sinister.
"What are you doing here?" I covered myself as best I could.
"Wet for him? Ye are a harlot, just as I thought." Spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke. I would think she were on meth or something, based on the crazed look in her eye, but that wasn't possible. She was too on edge, too wound up to be drunk.
The surprise at her appearance had faded and now I was worried. I was naked in the tub and she was a little insane. I stood and stepped from the tub, trying to be as ladylike as I could. I was Lady MacInnes, after all. "He's my husband," I replied, reaching for the bath sheet Ian had put on a stool beside the tub. "He will return soon."
"Nay. A patrol was attacked. He has ridden off with the others."
Ridden off? He left… or did she lie?
"Thank you for telling me, but you may go."
"Go?" she shrieked. "I am nay a maid to be commanded about."
I walked toward Ian's big bed. "I will nap while he is gone. I am quite weary from all the… tupping."
"Ye willna soil his bed with your slattern ways. I should be in that bed with him. I'm the one who should be filled with his seed." Her skin flushed bright pink and she had a crazed look about her.
Shit, she was insane. I had no idea what to say, so I shrugged.
She screamed and I widened my eyes as she pulled a knife from the folds of her skirt.
I stumbled away from her, but she was fast. I fell to the floor, landing hard on my butt, then my elbow. She was upon me in an instant and I felt the searing fire as the knife plunged deep into my belly.
My breath lodged in my throat, the pain overwhelming. I'd never known such agony. My hands came to cover hers, to stop her, but it was too late. I could only stare up at the woman who'd just stabbed me, feeling the hot trickle of my blood drip over my fingers.
"He will be mine now."
My vision blurred, my world narrowing. I saw her maniacal face, then heard her laugh, then shouting, heavy footfall on stone. Glynnis was lifted from me and I heard my name called through a fog. An anguished roar.
Ian. I tried to call his name, but there was no voice. His face loomed above mine, the last thing I saw. The last words I heard from his lips, "My heart."
The world went black.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lexy
My eyes flew open and I cried out at the pain, clasping my hand to my side. I was no longer on the hard stone floor. While I remembered the horrific feel of the knife plunging into me, I had no pain. No blood. No knife. I was sprawled in the overstuffed chair in the jewelry shop. Jumping to my feet, I looked myself over. I was back in my clothes from the day before, not wrapped in a bath sheet. My hair wasn't wet from when Ian washed it.
I hadn't been stabbed. I wasn't dying. Oh my God, I'd died in Ian's arms! I hadn't though, because I was in the jewelry store. It was daylight, the air conditioning hummed, chilling the cozy store. I still felt the weight of the ring on my finger, touched its warm red stone, yet the rest of my body was covered in goose bumps. I felt sick, nauseous from what had just happened. Glynnis, the assault. But it hadn't happened. It had been hundreds of years ago and it hadn't really been me.