Chapter Twelve

 

Holly paced back and forth in Laird Henry’s over-stuffed bedroom that was decorated in golds and reds. He had a large painted portrait of himself hanging in the middle of the room. He actually puffed out his chest, one foot stood on a dead boar, and his other hand rested on the pommel of his sword. The painting made him look handsome. Yet he was far from handsome with his hard eyes and sharp-angled face. The bastard was torturing Duncan all because of her. Hate failed to describe how she felt about Henry. Compared to him, Hitler was a swell guy.

She thought about climbing up on a chair and scratching his arrogant face. He’d only make Duncan suffer. She had to get out of here and rescue him. How? She had no idea. She wasn’t a dragon and possessed no super hero abilities. She glared at the arched oak door. She hurried over to it and pulled on the wretched lock. “Damn it!”

The door opened wide. Holly jumped back.

Laird Henry walked in with a swagger. A black gown was draped over his arm, and he held a wimple in his hand. “I want you to put this on.”

Holly crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

“If you do not, I’ll have Duncan pay for your insolence.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ll learn to appreciate me.” His attempt at a sexy voice would have been laughable if this wasn’t such a serious situation.

She snatched the garments out of his hand. “Not in a billion years.”

He grabbed her chin and pinched hard. “I told you about that tone.” His fingernails scratched her flesh. Pain stung her cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Much better.” He released her. “’Tis a pity you want to be so defiant.” He glanced at his wooden canopy bed. “There are so many more pleasant things to do in the bedroom.”

“Not happening.”

He leered and licked his lips. “I suggest you change into that lovely gown. Your knight depends on it.”

“I’ll not change with you in the room.”

He bowed and headed for the door. “Duncan will thank you for your modesty.”

“No, wait.”

She wanted to slap the triumphant look off his face. He obviously thought she was going to strip in front of him. Lifting her head high, she walked over to the armoire and opened the door that shielded her from his unnerving leer. She shed her jeans.

“My, you’ve got lovely ankles.” Henry’s voice was much too close.

Her hands shaking, she whipped off her shirt. She wiggled into the black bliaut with the billowing sleeves. Luckily, she’d participated in a re-enactment and knew how to put the linen dress on. She put on the dreaded wimple that hid her hair.

“Let me see, my dear.” He put his meaty hand on the door.

There was a steel mirror lying on an end table next to the dresser. Mirrors were not popular during this time, because religious confessions had reported that the devil watched from the opposite side. Vanity was considered a sin. Laird Henry obviously hadn’t gotten the message. Holly snatched up the mirror. Henry opened the door and flashed his gaze over her.

“You’re beau—”

Holly slammed the mirror into his leering face, bloodying his nose. Glass shattered. His head tilted backward. Holly smashed it into his cheek. Shards of glass dug into his skin. He covered his face, stumbled, and tripped over a fur rug. Still clutching the mirror, Holly raced across the room. She prayed there were no guards on the other side of the door.

“You bitch, you’ll pay for this.”

Fear forced her into action. She flung open the door and raced out into the dark hallway. Luckily, Henry hadn’t locked it, and no guards were posted. Obviously, he hadn’t thought she could escape. He was twice as arrogant as Alastair. She cringed at the thought of being forced to endure his lips or hands on her skin. She wasn’t free yet.

“Guards! Find the girl!” Henry yelled. His thundering footsteps matched the blood pumping between her temples.

Angry footsteps were coming from the opposite direction. There were a slew of doors, and she had no idea where they went and no time to investigate. She flung open the nearest one and stepped inside, hoping there were no occupants.

She found herself in another bedroom, but this one wasn’t as ornate as Henry’s. It still had a painting of him sitting on a horse. She bet Henry had a portrait of himself in every bedroom. He took conceited to a whole new level of nausea. She pressed her back against the door, listening for footsteps. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t tell what was footsteps and her heart thundering.

A hushed gasp turned her to stone. She wasn’t alone. She slowly turned around and held her weapon, ready to plow it into her attacker.

A tall, menacing figure approached her. The heavy curtains only let in a narrow stream of light, and she couldn’t tell who it was, but it was definitely a man. He was breathing hard, and his footsteps were slow. He must have obviously heard the yelling and footsteps outside, but he hadn’t betrayed her.

She pressed her back to the door, too afraid to move. She was cornered. Henry wasn’t a fool. He’d search every room of this castle for her. He wouldn’t wait for Balthazar to rape her. She hated this place, this time, this task. She wanted to go home and never set foot in England again.

“Holly?”

Oh, crap. She’d just hidden in Alastair’s room. No wonder he hadn’t called for help. He didn’t need any.

She held the broken mirror over her shoulder like a bat. “Stay away from me, Alastair.” Her quiet voice failed to keep him from approaching. Why would it? He was a dragon knight and she was a damsel-in-distress holding a broken mirror.

“Holly, ’tis me—Duncan.”

What game was Alastair playing? Get her to lower her defenses so he could rape her? “You’re a liar. Duncan’s down in the dungeon.” Tears clouded her vision. He’d sacrificed himself for her. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was enduring while all the punishment she’d experienced was the loss of her favorite pair of jeans.

“I escaped. Trust me.”

Trust wasn’t easy to come by, and Alastair deserved none of it. He’d almost reached her. She pressed her back against the wall. Through the dim light she saw a hand stretch out to touch her. She brought the mirror down hard. He cried out and jerked his hand away.

“Holly, I swear ’tis me.” His voice was surprisingly calm, and he hadn’t tried to attack her or use magic on her—something Alastair would do.

She wanted this to be Duncan so badly—to feel his arms around her, to listen to his true heart. She couldn’t chance it. “I don’t believe you.” Even as she said it, a spark of doubt entered her mind.

“When ye came through the darkness, ye were hysterical. I held ye in my arms. The archangel said we had to have faith in each other. D’ye remember, lass?”

Alastair hadn’t been in the room when she’d come through the chamber, nor had he heard what Raphael had said. Was this Duncan? How could he have escaped from that awful place? Séamus had almost been half-dead. Duncan had to have suffered the same fate.

“Give me yer hand, Holly. They’ll find us soon if ye donna.”

His voice was so kind and alluring she wanted to give in, wanted to rush into his arms.

But she couldn’t move. She didn’t want to be dragged back to Henry’s bedroom where he’d rape her repeatedly or have Alastair force himself on her. She was shaking so badly she was afraid she’d dropped the mirror.

On the other side of the door, Henry growled, “Check all the damn rooms, you fools. She couldn’t have gotten far. Where the hell is Alastair?” He was practically right outside the door.

Suddenly, Alastair grabbed her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. She struggled, kicking at his shins, then she remembered the masculine taste and the determined but gentle kiss—it was Duncan. She stopped struggling, dropped the mirror, and melted into his arms. He was here.

Cold tingles flushed over her arms, and she shivered. Adrenaline surged through her, and her limbs felt stronger, as if she could fly.

The feeling diminished as Duncan’s arms loosened their grip around her. He sagged against her, squishing her against the oak door, knocking the breath out of her. Her hands slipped over his wet back as she tried to catch him. “Duncan...what...were...you doing?”

He winced. “Preparing for...battle...too...weak.” His lips left hers and he tumbled to the floor.

She glanced at her bloody hands, and tears slid down her cheeks. He’d suffered so much for her, even though he was in love with another woman. She wiped her hands on her dress and knelt by him. She used the folds of her dress to wipe away the sweat glistening on his face. “Duncan, what’s wrong?”

“He drained...my power. Used most of it up....looking for you.” His voice faded, and he gasped for breath.

Once again, her brave dragon knight risked his life for hers. She had a horrible feeling he was about to pass out. They’d both be captured for sure. She didn’t know what power he had used to get up here, but knew what he needed to be strong. If a kiss could make them invisible, then what sex would do?

“Duncan, can you make us invisible just for a few minutes? Henry and his men are coming.”

“I’ll try.”

“Put your arm around my neck. We have to move away from the door, or Henry will suspect. Can you stand?”

He grunted as she managed to help him to his feet. Her legs wobbled underneath his great weight. He only wore trousers, and his arms and back were slick from his own blood. Damn, Henry!

They edged toward the bed. Duncan fell onto his knee just as the door swung open.

Henry and his men burst into the room. They held torches that lit up every corner. Henry had dried blood beneath his nose and a fat lip. Tiny cuts marred his right cheek. Her bravery deserted at the rage in his eyes. Holly held her breath, waiting for Henry to crow with glee over finding them.

“She’s not here, my lord,” a lanky guard said.

Holly exhaled silently. She looked to where Duncan laid his head in her lap. Thank God, they were invisible! Duncan had managed to cloak them. But with his withered condition, it wouldn’t last.

Henry cuffed the man across the head. “I can see that, idiot. We have to keep looking. Balthazar will be here at sundown. Put a guard outside my bedroom.”

A brute of a knight frowned. “Why, my lord? We have already searched in there. The lass isn’t there.”

Henry walked over to the knight. “Do you dare question me?” He was at least six inches shorter, but it was the knight who had terror in his eyes.

“No, my lord. It shall be done.” He bowed, then fled the room as if the devil himself were after him.

Henry jerked open the armoire, revealing a couple of hanging dresses. Holly wondered what had happened to the poor women those had belonged to and hoped she wouldn’t share their fate.

He turned around. “Stand guard outside. I don’t want her slipping in here while we are searching other rooms.”

“Yes, my lord,” he said, as he closed the door after Henry and his men left.

Duncan flashed before her. He was visible. His face was deathly pale, and sweat rolled down his temples. “’Tis the last of the magic. I have none left. I’m sorry, lass.”

“You will. Can you stand?”

His eyes fluttered shut. “I donna think so.”  He was about to go to Never-Never-Land.

“Hang on, Duncan. I know how to get your power back.” Holly stood and flung the wimple off her head. She put her hands on the folds of the bliaut and yanked the black gown over her head. She looked down at him wearing only her bra and underwear. “Duncan, look at me.”

“Lass, what are ye doing?” His voice was a husky whisper.

“Giving you your power back.” Without the slightest embarrassment, she unclasped her bra then pulled off her lacy underwear.

Duncan was the one whose cheeks had turned red. Lust flashed in his eyes. “Sweet Jesus, yer beautiful, lass. Ye donna have to do this.”

She laughed. “Don’t be so shocked. I’m not a virgin. Your dragon mate isn’t here to help you, but I am.”

He mumbled something, but she couldn’t catch what he said since his voice was so low. Holly took off his boots, then pulled off his trousers. He tensed, and she worried she was causing him more pain. She grimaced at a long rip. “Sorry about that.”

He gasped for breath as if it was the hardest task for him to do. She wasn’t sure if having fast and furious or slow and savory sex was the best way to prepare him for battle. Since they were being hunted, she had no choice but to go fast and furious. The thought of impaling herself on his large cock hadn’t exactly aroused her.

She ran her hands up his trembling legs that rippled with muscle. Blood stained her fingers, and tears muddied her eyes. “Easy, Duncan. Let me get you aroused. We have to be quiet to keep the guard from hearing us.”

“Yer killing me.” Duncan exhaled a white fog that drifted over to the door and slipped through the key hole.

“What are you doing?”

“’Tis a sleeping fog so the guard will not hear us.”

She ran her hand over his cock. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Nay, God-forgive me. I need ye, sweet Holly.”

Pushing her pride out the window, she said, “I know I’m not Marigold. Picture her when we make love.”

“I donna want her. I want ye. She never made me feel the way ye do.”

Normally, she’d have thought this was a common line just to get laid. But this was Duncan, and his husky voice was sincere, and Lord help her, those words worked on her. She wanted him to need her—not Marigold.

His cock was erect and was probably the only thing on his body that Henry hadn’t tortured. She climbed over him, and slowly lowered herself onto his cock, allowing her muscles to stretch. She’d never been with a man as big as Duncan. He reached his hands up and toyed with her nipples. She quickened her pace as he thrust inside her, matching her rhythm.

Duncan slowly sat up and suckled a nipple that sent her mind spinning. She sucked in her breath unable to cry out. He laved her with his tongue, and she arched her back, allowing him to take more. He moved his hands over her flesh making her hot and drenched with need. Their coupling was fast and furious that left her breathless. There were more, and more, and more sensations that rivaled any mind-blowing orgasm she’d ever experienced before. A stunned, breathless shudder brought her back to the thirteenth century. Passion sailed through her like heaping waves, deep and intense.

A storming orgasm gushed over, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Duncan followed her and released his hot seed inside her. She’d never experienced anything so hot and sultry. She panted hard, and sweat glistened over her skin.

“Holly, ye did it. My strength is returning. I need ye like I’ve never needed another woman before.”

She looked down at him. “Even Marigold?”

“I willna lie to ye.” He slid his hands up and down her ribs.

She tried to concentrate, and his hands weren’t helping. “Meaning?”

“I did love her. Guilt has driven me mad with self-loathing. I denied myself the simplest pleasures with a woman. Now, I can see I was waiting for ye. Yer my dragon-mate.”

“Duncan, what did Henry do to you down there? You’ve claimed Marigold was your true love.”

“If she had been, my magic wouldn’t have harmed her. Séamus told me this. I didna want to believe this to be so, but look at me. Just caressing and touching ye, my wounds are slowly healing. Only a dragon mate can do this.”

Holly wasn’t sure what this meant. She hadn’t decided to stay in this backward century. It was a scary, depressing place.

“We should get dressed.” She drew a heart on his chest with her finger. “Was this...” She hesitated. “Like what you had with Marigold?”

He caressed her thighs with his calloused hands. “Nay. She was a timid lover. Ye on the other hand are bolder than the bravest lads.”

She shivered at his touch, wishing they could do it one more time—slower. “You liked it?”

He pulled her down, rolled on top of her, and kissed the tip of her nose. “Aye, Holly Duff, I liked it all right. Enough to want to take ye again and again.”

“What if Henry comes back?”

“Nay here, sweet lady. Questing Castle, where no one would dare interrupt our love-making.”

She smiled, still not sure she wanted to be in this century. Once they destroyed the first chapter, Raphael had said she could go back to her time. If she did, she’d never see her lusty dragon knight again.

Duncan pulled out of her and looked at the window. “Dusk will be here soon. We must prepare for battle.” He lifted her chin. “Thanks to you, I’m at full strength.”

Holly shuddered, thinking about facing Balthazar again. Evil couldn’t describe the vibes he gave off, and he was bringing the black flower, determined to destroy them both.