Highland Shifter
Page 27
“You don’t think it will work?”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, God.”
“I’d go if I wasn’t needed here to make my spare bedrooms presentable.” Mrs. Dawson stood by the back door of the house as she spoke.
The old were always more adventurous than the young. People would argue the opposite, but Simon had seen enough in his short life to argue the point. Life was too short. Taking risks was the only way to really live.
Simon loved risk.
Helen would too if he could find a way to calm her down.
He grasped her hand and pulled her out the back door of Mrs. Dawson’s home. On the back porch, Simon leaned over and kissed Mrs. Dawson’s cheek. “We’ll call you when we’re back. I’ve left my dirk in the room you’ve allowed me to use, this will guide the way for my family to come without me if they need to.”
Mrs. Dawson nodded and Simon kissed her cheek again.
He stood back as Helen pulled the older woman into her arms. “I’m doing the right thing, right?”
“Oh, dear, you’ve the best tour guide with you. I’m jealous. Make sure you bring him back in a kilt.”
Helen chuckled. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, dear.”
The foliage surrounding Mrs. Dawson’s backyard and the mile of distance of her nearest neighbor gave Simon the privacy he needed.
Helen’s hand shook in his as he led her away from the house. Lizzy had spoken of the power of Druid blood and how it aided her return. Helen wouldn’t like what Simon was about to do. “I need your hand.”
Helen lifted her left hand and he removed a small knife he’d retrieved from Mrs. Dawson’s kitchen.
“What’s that for?”
“We only need a few drops.” He lifted the blade to her finger and she tugged away.
“I don’t like this.”
“You need to trust me.”
She sucked in her lower lip and thrust her hand to his again. He made a small cut in her finger and did the same to his. After tucking the knife in his pocket, he gathered both their hands and squeezed small drops of blood in a circle around them.
Once he completed the small circle, he willed fire to leap from his fingers and catch into a ring. Helen pushed closer to his frame, the heat of her skin met his. Her breath caught and her br**sts pushed against the fabric of her shirt. With his non-bleeding hand, Simon pulled her softly into his embrace. “Trust me.”
Something flickered in her eyes and Simon placed her bleeding finger and his, to the pendant on her neck. Then he began to speak. “In this night and in this hour, we ask the Ancients for this power. Send us now across the sea, to be back with my family. If the Ancients will it so, send us now and let us go.”
A familiar rumble of the earth jolted beneath them and fear raced through Helen’s body.
Simon did the only thing he could think of to distract her.
He leaned forward and melted his lips to hers.
Chapter Twelve
The world exploded around her. Unlike the last time Simon had kissed her, this time felt safe, rational, and more grounded than the falling earth. The palm of his hand flattened against hers as their bodies plunged into time. The soft dance of his lips parted hers until his tongue explored deeper. The rush of noise around them grew as it had before but all Helen could hear was the pounding of her own heart and the rushing of blood through her veins.
The long, firm length of Simon’s hardened body pressed so close she couldn’t move a finger without touching him somewhere. He was delicious, smooth, and infinitely more experienced at kissing and distraction than Helen ever thought she’d be.
She felt his thigh push between hers and her hips surged forward with a will of their own. A deep coil of desire produced a moan against Simon’s lips.
The world quieted around them, and Helen’s body felt as if it were wrapped in a warm, soft cloud. Simon’s hand lifted from her neck to her cheek. He broke away from her lips, and Helen slowly opened her eyes to find him staring. She moved to lift her arm but found it wedged between Simon and something. She tugged again and turned her head. Helen’s face met with a soft pillow.
They had landed in a bed, with Simon’s knee wedged intimately between her legs.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and deep in his chest.
She glanced beyond his shoulder, ignoring their tangled limbs, and noticed the cold stone walls and high ceilings. The bed was nothing like she’d slept in before. Massive wood posts framed a mattress of some sort. Across the room was an empty, dark fireplace and sitting chair arranged in front of it.
“Where are we?”
He smiled and pulled in a deep full breath as if he was tasting fresh air for the first time in years. “Home,” he sighed.
“Scotland?”
“Aye.”
Another rumble sounded behind the wooden door and Simon’s body stiffened.
The door crashed open and several people stormed the room all at once.
Helen would have bounded from the bed had Simon not been holding her. She only managed to untangle their limbs before a beautiful blonde woman dressed in an ornate rust colored gown ran toward the bed. “Simon.”
Simon stood up, drawing Helen with him. “I take it you missed me.”
Helen stepped away as the woman threw her arms around Simon. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t return, Mom?”
More family filled the room, each of them glanced Helen’s way but swiftly returned their attention to Simon.
Helen took a moment to soak in the massive amount of people. My God, he said his family was large, but this makes the Waltons look like ‘orphans’. The men were massive, all over six feet tall and thick as steel. The women might not be as large, but their presence wasn’t a timid shadow behind the men. And beautiful, they were all stunning in their own way. Even the children who sneaked around the adults were pretty.
No wonder Simon was anxious to return. Who wouldn’t love the support of a family this large?
“You must be Helen.” The oldest woman in the room acknowledged her first.
“How do you know my name?”
“Your pack…” The woman glanced at the woman who must be Lizzy.
“Backpack,” Lizzy said.
“Your backpack arrived without you.”
“Oh.”
“Helen,” Simon called from over several heads. He lifted a hand to her, on autopilot; she moved to his side and welcomed the comfort of his familiar presence. With a hand to the small of her back, Simon started the introductions. “As you may have guessed, this is my mother Elizabeth and my father Finlay.”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, God.”
“I’d go if I wasn’t needed here to make my spare bedrooms presentable.” Mrs. Dawson stood by the back door of the house as she spoke.
The old were always more adventurous than the young. People would argue the opposite, but Simon had seen enough in his short life to argue the point. Life was too short. Taking risks was the only way to really live.
Simon loved risk.
Helen would too if he could find a way to calm her down.
He grasped her hand and pulled her out the back door of Mrs. Dawson’s home. On the back porch, Simon leaned over and kissed Mrs. Dawson’s cheek. “We’ll call you when we’re back. I’ve left my dirk in the room you’ve allowed me to use, this will guide the way for my family to come without me if they need to.”
Mrs. Dawson nodded and Simon kissed her cheek again.
He stood back as Helen pulled the older woman into her arms. “I’m doing the right thing, right?”
“Oh, dear, you’ve the best tour guide with you. I’m jealous. Make sure you bring him back in a kilt.”
Helen chuckled. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, dear.”
The foliage surrounding Mrs. Dawson’s backyard and the mile of distance of her nearest neighbor gave Simon the privacy he needed.
Helen’s hand shook in his as he led her away from the house. Lizzy had spoken of the power of Druid blood and how it aided her return. Helen wouldn’t like what Simon was about to do. “I need your hand.”
Helen lifted her left hand and he removed a small knife he’d retrieved from Mrs. Dawson’s kitchen.
“What’s that for?”
“We only need a few drops.” He lifted the blade to her finger and she tugged away.
“I don’t like this.”
“You need to trust me.”
She sucked in her lower lip and thrust her hand to his again. He made a small cut in her finger and did the same to his. After tucking the knife in his pocket, he gathered both their hands and squeezed small drops of blood in a circle around them.
Once he completed the small circle, he willed fire to leap from his fingers and catch into a ring. Helen pushed closer to his frame, the heat of her skin met his. Her breath caught and her br**sts pushed against the fabric of her shirt. With his non-bleeding hand, Simon pulled her softly into his embrace. “Trust me.”
Something flickered in her eyes and Simon placed her bleeding finger and his, to the pendant on her neck. Then he began to speak. “In this night and in this hour, we ask the Ancients for this power. Send us now across the sea, to be back with my family. If the Ancients will it so, send us now and let us go.”
A familiar rumble of the earth jolted beneath them and fear raced through Helen’s body.
Simon did the only thing he could think of to distract her.
He leaned forward and melted his lips to hers.
Chapter Twelve
The world exploded around her. Unlike the last time Simon had kissed her, this time felt safe, rational, and more grounded than the falling earth. The palm of his hand flattened against hers as their bodies plunged into time. The soft dance of his lips parted hers until his tongue explored deeper. The rush of noise around them grew as it had before but all Helen could hear was the pounding of her own heart and the rushing of blood through her veins.
The long, firm length of Simon’s hardened body pressed so close she couldn’t move a finger without touching him somewhere. He was delicious, smooth, and infinitely more experienced at kissing and distraction than Helen ever thought she’d be.
She felt his thigh push between hers and her hips surged forward with a will of their own. A deep coil of desire produced a moan against Simon’s lips.
The world quieted around them, and Helen’s body felt as if it were wrapped in a warm, soft cloud. Simon’s hand lifted from her neck to her cheek. He broke away from her lips, and Helen slowly opened her eyes to find him staring. She moved to lift her arm but found it wedged between Simon and something. She tugged again and turned her head. Helen’s face met with a soft pillow.
They had landed in a bed, with Simon’s knee wedged intimately between her legs.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and deep in his chest.
She glanced beyond his shoulder, ignoring their tangled limbs, and noticed the cold stone walls and high ceilings. The bed was nothing like she’d slept in before. Massive wood posts framed a mattress of some sort. Across the room was an empty, dark fireplace and sitting chair arranged in front of it.
“Where are we?”
He smiled and pulled in a deep full breath as if he was tasting fresh air for the first time in years. “Home,” he sighed.
“Scotland?”
“Aye.”
Another rumble sounded behind the wooden door and Simon’s body stiffened.
The door crashed open and several people stormed the room all at once.
Helen would have bounded from the bed had Simon not been holding her. She only managed to untangle their limbs before a beautiful blonde woman dressed in an ornate rust colored gown ran toward the bed. “Simon.”
Simon stood up, drawing Helen with him. “I take it you missed me.”
Helen stepped away as the woman threw her arms around Simon. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t return, Mom?”
More family filled the room, each of them glanced Helen’s way but swiftly returned their attention to Simon.
Helen took a moment to soak in the massive amount of people. My God, he said his family was large, but this makes the Waltons look like ‘orphans’. The men were massive, all over six feet tall and thick as steel. The women might not be as large, but their presence wasn’t a timid shadow behind the men. And beautiful, they were all stunning in their own way. Even the children who sneaked around the adults were pretty.
No wonder Simon was anxious to return. Who wouldn’t love the support of a family this large?
“You must be Helen.” The oldest woman in the room acknowledged her first.
“How do you know my name?”
“Your pack…” The woman glanced at the woman who must be Lizzy.
“Backpack,” Lizzy said.
“Your backpack arrived without you.”
“Oh.”
“Helen,” Simon called from over several heads. He lifted a hand to her, on autopilot; she moved to his side and welcomed the comfort of his familiar presence. With a hand to the small of her back, Simon started the introductions. “As you may have guessed, this is my mother Elizabeth and my father Finlay.”
