Redeeming Vows
Page 17

 Catherine Bybee

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Fin’s hand, under her skirt, rounded over her hip and squeezed. “Is it, Elizabeth?”
What was the question?
“Or maybe this is what you want.” Fin’s nimble fingers rounded in front and met the heat pooling at her center. When the length of one finger slid up and into her body, her knees buckled, bringing her in closer contact with his whole hand. “Oh, God.”
Liz’s head rolled back, eyes closed, while she writhed closer.
Fin drew circles with his thumb while penetrating her in seductive strokes.
Liz felt his erection strain against the fabric separating them. As her hand slipped down and brushed against his length her breath caught. Fin’s fingers and thumb moved faster. Her long overdue orgasm, which started deep in the pit of her stomach, now blossomed with every pass of his hand.
His heated breath marched in time with hers until she felt her passion swell.
Her body climbed over the invisible wall and stilled right as Fin pushed her over.
Body shuddering, Liz muffled her cries of release into his shoulder. Her body clenched around his magical fingers.
Fin held her there, pinned against the wall, his breath against her neck as the tremors subsided.
His hand slipped away, leaving her damp and empty.
When she finally worked up the nerve to open her eyes, Fin stared down at her. Knowing. He brought his fingers to his mouth and drew the digit past his lips.
For a moment, Liz felt her body clench all over again.
“I’ll give you all the attention you need, Elizabeth.”
Fin pushed away and her skirt fell in place. He licked his lips before opening the door and leaving the room.
Liz let her frame slide down the wall until she sat firmly on the floor. Her gaze focused on a simple unlit candle across the room. Before her breath resumed its normal pattern, her adrenaline rose again.
“The gall of that man,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
The candle sparked to life. Her eyes flew to another. It too started to glow.
Surprisingly, her thoughts weren’t of despair or disapproval so much as irritation over his control.
Control over her.
She’d had no control and at the time didn’t care that he took it all. What was wrong with her? She should be horrified with her submissive body, but she wasn’t. She should be raging war over who had the better control over their bodies, but she couldn’t.
She inched up the wall, slimmed her skirts over her frame, and pictured Fin’s hands on her again.
****
Preparing for their journey south was equivalent to a move of a household. Ian mandated that the elderly and sick prepare to move into the lower rooms of the keep, a precaution against Grainna’s possible attack. Between the extra eyes and the continued attention of Logan, Liz relished the opportunity of escape to the cottage with Simon. However, Fin made certain his presence was in the mix. Only this time, Ian would join them, eliminating Liz’s opportunity of revenge on Fin.
“Do you know of our history, lass? Of what Scotland will endure over the years?”
They were still over a mile from their destination when Ian started posing his questions.
“No, not really. There were a few movies about Scotland. I do know that the kilts get shorter.”
“Ahh, yes. Duncan and Fin said as much from their travels in your time.”
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t follow your meaning, lass.”
Liz lifted her lips in a smile. “Well, you sent Duncan and Fin ahead in time…”
“The Ancients told us to send them.”
“Either way, they went ahead in time, learned that their clothing didn’t fit the image my generation assumed of them and their dress altered because of it. Makes you wonder if the reason kilts shortened is because of Duncan and Fin going forward in time.”
Ian’s brows pinched in thought. “Time travel holds many responsibilities. ’Tis why we were concerned when you came with Myra.”
So many months ago when she’d forced Myra to bring her and Simon to visit Tara after Liz learned the truth about her sister’s disappearance. Fin didn’t welcome her at all, Ian only marginally.
“I think the Ancients wanted Simon and me here.”
Ian nodded. “Agreed.”
“Will we bring the stones with us when we travel?”
“I’ve considered that. Leaving them poses a threat, so does taking them. If either results in Grainna obtaining them, the consequences could be devastating.”
“Maybe we should take one, leave one, and hide the other,” Simon suggested.
Ian slid into a rare smile. “You know, lad, your astute wisdom will take you far.”
Simon sat straighter in his saddle with Ian’s praise. Liz’s heart lifted when her son’s smile beamed. The MacCoinnichs were a good influence on him. “Where do you suggest we hide it in the keep?”
Fin asked Simon, further widening his grin.
Before answering, he appeared to consider all the options. “Well, I don’t think it needs to be in any kind of safe, or under a bed. If I were Grainna that would be the first place I’d look. I’d hide them in plain sight. You know, a paperweight on a desk or something simple like that.”
Liz thought back on the silly craft projects she’d put together in the mindless hours of entertaining the kids at the daycare. “We could always paint one with dye and make it look like a Father’s Day gift from Amber.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember painting a face on a rock and giving it to you, Mom. You called it a pet rock.”
Liz laughed. “Yeah, I did.” She’d kept that rock nestled into the far reaches of her nightstand in her apartment. Of course, her apartment was most likely turned back over to the landlord by now, her belongings sold to make up for lost rent. She and Simon were probably on some missing person’s list along with Todd and Tara. Returning now would result in countless questions and explanations.
They neared the cabin and went through the ritual of setting the horses to graze while opening up the shelter. Without another woman in their company, Liz felt a little awkward stripping down to her usual shorts and T-shirt and opted to stay in her full-length dress. Ian’s propriety really didn’t allow for twenty-first century clothing anyway.
Then there was Fin.
They didn’t breathe a word of their encounter.
But images of him flooded her mind constantly.
Branding her. Even now, he glanced her way long enough for Liz to feel his eyes on her before skirting his gaze in the opposite direction. He thought he was being coy. She knew better.