Page 145 of Dark Rival

Allie nodded, overcome. “I love you.”

He smiled. “I ken—for ye have suffered my medieval ways for six centuries. Now go, darling. I willna lose this life of ours.”

Allie turned and gave Aidan her hand.

SIX DAYS HAD PASSED since she had been seized by Moffat outside of Blackwood Hall. Allie stood on the ramparts, mindless of the drizzle, wrapped in one of Royce’s plaids. Autumn had settled over Morvern and the leaves on the Scot oak trees were red and gold, while the grass and shrubs were turning brown and barren. She knew Royce was coming back, but until he did, she was suspended in a state of breathless anticipation, tinged with real fear for his safety and welfare.

And then she felt his hot, hard power below.

She whirled, crying out.

Royce was leaping up the steps to the ramparts, his gaze burning and bright.

It was her Royce—Mr. Medieval—and he had clearly been in his Mad Max mode. His leine was spotted with dried blood, as if someone had dipped a paintbrush in it and then shaken it at him. Allie wasn’t sure she wanted to know what had happened. She ran toward him.

Royce ran, too, and on the top step, he swept her into his embrace and held her, hard.

She breathed in his scent—Highland pine, rain, sex, man. She sensed for his injuries, but there were none. In fact, his power was as great as it had ever been.

“Aye, I was hurt, but I’m fine now.” He took her face in his hands and smiled warmly at her. “Hallo a Ailios,” he said softly.

She touched his cheek. “Hallo a Ruari.”

He clasped her hand to his cheek. “Moffat’s dead.”

“I know.”

He started.

“I saw our future, Royce. I saw our wonderful future!”

His puzzled gaze softened. “I saw it, too. We will have many fine children, Ailios.”

She nodded and realized she was crying.

“I’m sorry I scared ye so. I was so weakened from the leaping. I landed in a distant time and I dinna have the power to come back to ye for days.”

She somehow nodded.

“I could never leave ye,” he whispered, his tone suddenly rough. “I love ye too much.”

Allie went still. His words reverberated through her body, her heart, her soul.

“Ye win,” he added with a smile that revealed his single dimple. “Don’t I get to take ye to bed now?” he added, his gaze gleaming.

Somehow she said, “Damn right.”

He swept her into his arms and started down the stairs, his strides rapid and determined.

She felt his pulse roaring, gathering in his loins. “I have missed you so much!”

“Aye, I ken. Ye were scared an’ ye went to yer time, to find ye dinna exist there anymore.”

They entered the hall. He was lurking—she loved it! “The gods want me with you, Royce.”

“Ah, well.” He ran up the stairs to his tower. “That’s a very hopeful statement.” His grin flashed, wicked, and he laid her on the bed. “I’ll fight the gods to be with ye, Ailios,” he said seriously, but he looked at her legs.

She had dressed for his return every day. She leaned back against the pillows in the green jersey dress. The slit fell open. Royce sat and slid his hand up her thigh, high. “I like the pink thong best,” he said roughly.