Amber heard Helen gasp.
She looked toward the door to find Helen and Giles standing there. Amber hadn’t felt them coming. Deep inside she reached for the emotions of the others in the room and only felt one. The man holding her down.
“Don’t look for trouble. It’s taken hours to thicken the barrier. If you push against it, it might not hold,” the stranger told her.
“How do you know I’m pushing?”
“Because we’re linked.”
“Linked?”
He nodded, his breath swept hot over her. “Don’t panic.” He winced as if her worry wounded him.
He lowered one of her hands in his and brought it up to her eyes. “Do you see the light?”
Blue light glistened.
“What is it?”
“My shield. It’s keeping out everyone’s thoughts but ours.”
“He speaks the truth, lass,” Simon assured her.
Amber stared into the dark brown eyes of the stranger in her bed. She forced her breaths to slow down and took him in. He wore a small amount of hair on his face in a way that flattered his strong jaw without hiding it. His broad shoulders and thick arms reminded her of the men of her time. Even though he was draped over her like a thick blanket, he wasn’t hurting her. It was as if he was holding himself above her without placing all his weight. It was strangely comforting…like the dream of being folded in a cloud. A strong, heavily muscled cloud that smelled of spice and man.
No smile reached his lips, but she noticed his eyes spark with mischief. Then, without any warning she knew on a deep level he felt every curve of her body and was keenly aware of the minimal clothing she wore.
When her cheeks warmed, the man holding her smiled. The effect devastated her. She’d never felt desire for a man before and was mortified the man holding her was aware of her thoughts.
“I’m going to move off of you now, Amber. Don’t run away.”
“Why?”
He lifted their clasped hands again. “Because I don’t know if I can keep everything out if you let go.”
“Truly?” Her palm in his warmed.
He lifted an eyebrow. “One thing at a time.”
He shifted his weight, rolled to the side, but kept one hand in hers at all times.
She used her free hand to pull down her nightgown that had inched up in her struggles, and pushed the majority of her body as far away from the man in her bed as possible.
“How are you feeling?” Helen asked.
“Confused.”
“That’s to be expected. Waking up next to a strange man in your bed has to be a first for you.”
“Waking up next to any man is a first.” She lifted her chin and stared at the man holding her hand. “Who are you?”
“The name’s Kincaid.”
Her eyes narrowed as another name popped in her head. “Your name is Gavin.”
From the door, Giles chuckled. “You’re quite right, m’lady. It is Gavin but no one dares call him that. Gavin Kincaid prefers the use of his last name only.”
“Is that so?”
She tried to read the man’s mind but found it difficult.
“I go by Kincaid.” The smirk on his face unsettled her and made her want to challenge him. After all, he’d slept next to her, yelled at her, and forcefully restrained her before she even knew his name.
“Well, Gavin…” The smirk on his face grew when she used his given name. “How is it you came to be in my bed?”
Before he could explain himself, Simon and Helen told the story as to how Gavin Kincaid had searched for Giles and ended up traveling to their time. Helen launched into finding Amber near death on the bathroom floor, how they needed to do something, and quickly, if Amber was going to survive.
While the tale was told, the hand holding hers grew warm. A shiver ran up her arm as if Gavin ran a hand along her skin. Was that a result of his thoughts about her, or her own wishes? How much of her thoughts could he read? And why was it so difficult to read his clearly?
“You have questions.” He told her, interrupting Helen’s story.
“Can you read my thoughts?”
“Not word for word.”
That’s a relief.
“But I sense your feelings stronger than you’d like.” There his smirk was again.
She tugged at her hand but he didn’t let her go.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” He gripped her fingers.
“I don’t want you in my head.”
“Do you want the thousands who were in there before, instead of me? Am I that distasteful to you, Lady MacCoinnich?”
“I feel your advantage over me, Gavin Kincaid.” And I don’t like it!
His eyes fell down her lithe frame. “The mouse holds an advantage over you.”
Giles cleared his throat. “Show some respect, Kincaid. She is a MacCoinnich.”
“Respect runs both ways, Giles. This MacCoinnich would be dead if I hadn’t intervened. Seems all she wants to do is run away and break every effort I’ve made to keep her alive.”
Amber huffed an exasperated breath. “Sleeping next to a woman is a hardship for you, Gavin?”
He leaned forward, much too close for her comfort and lowered his voice. “The women I sleep next to don’t try and run away when they wake, m’lady…quite the opposite.”
Beside them, Simon heard the exchange and lunged toward Kincaid.
Amber felt, more than saw, the blue shield around them expand and Simon bounced off the force field and hit the floor. His contact with the shield brought a wave of pain over her, an instant reminder of the crushing agony she’d been in only yesterday.
The hand in hers squeezed.
Simon took to his feet and approached again.
“Stop!” Gavin ordered.
“Please, Simon…don’t.”
“Apologize to the lady!” Simon demanded.
The words didn’t come quickly, but Amber knew Gavin wasn’t happy with his actions. She had baited him, and needed to carry some of the blame for Simon’s need to protect her. “My apologies, Amber.”
Chapter Nine
Anyone else using his first name as freely as Amber did would normally be the recipient of a clear cut down. But every time his name tumbled from her soft, pink lips, one of the links to his soul opened and let her in a little deeper. Not even his lovers knew his name, nor would they have cared to ask.
Names aside, the two of them needed to find some peace until it could be determined if the strength of his shield could surround them both without them touching. The woman holding his hand was stronger than anyone in the room could possibly know. The pain inside of her had the power of an F-5 tornado and was just as destructive. No wonder it had nearly killed her. All that strength would fall like dust in the wind when she realized touching him constantly meant a lack of privacy while bathing…and any number of other activities.