Page 55 of Beyond Dreams

Almost reverently, shock widening her eyes, Holly stepped slowly and fully into the room.

“Oh...my,” she breathed. The turret was furnished with silk and damask wall hangings and a canopied bed with its own curtains of silk, with an enviably thick mattress, thick quilts, and fur throw. A cupboard, square table, and a cushioned stool with short arms were the only other pieces of furniture, but the grandeur was not lost on Holly. Next to the stone hearth, which looked as if it hadn’t seen any recent fire, were a pair of tongs and a fire shovel. There was no window in the chamber but what appeared to be large French doors, closed now and covered with silk curtains under wooden shutters, until Graeme pulled them open, bringing in a burst of bright light and revealing a short balcony that overlooked the sea.

No sooner than Holly thought, fit for a queen, than Graeme admitted it had been made nearly as such.

“Our one-time king, Alexander, found refuge here for several weeks many years ago,” Graeme explained. “Since then, it has alternately housed the Glasgow bishop, Robert Wishart, and several times, our esteemed William Wallace. For once, Doirin made herself useful, insisting that the chamber be furnished as befitting their station.”

“Well done, Doirin,” Holly praised as she made her way to the balcony. She leaned over the waist high railing of stone, realizing she was one floor higher than the guards on the wall. Two strolling soldiers glanced up at her. She waved merrily at them, knowing she’d hear no complaint, not with Graeme at her side.

Despite the wind that picked up her hair and threw it across her cheeks and eyes, the sea was relatively calm today, the sky an endless swath of light blue. Waves rolled in gently along the shoreline directly below foamy for a moment until the water flattened and drifted back out to sea. Holly tipped her face up to the sun, instantly invigorated.

But then she whirled around, staring back inside, and at the bed. William Wallace had slept there.

William Wallace!

“Oh, this is perfect, Graeme. Thank you.”

With a polite tip of his head, he removed himself, leaving Holly to her tortured thoughts, seriously reduced in severity because of the splendor—the history!—contained in just this room.

She returned to the balcony, and the magnificent view.

However, the tumult of her mind refused to be put off indefinitely and soon enough she was forced to address it.

She struggled with how quickly she’d caved to Duncan’s want to make their marriage real, in truth that not only had she resisted little but had actually helped it along. She didn’t sleep around, didn’t hook up casually as some of her friends did, had always needed to feelsomeemotion, some hope in order to sleep with a guy. So had she? Felt either hope or emotion with Duncan? She wasn’t sure how she could have imagined any hope from their fateful union. But she acknowledged that emotion was possible, on her end at least; he’d shown that he could be kind, had demonstrated how protective he was, which was both sexy and appealing. He’d reminded her of what she’d always believed, what had proven true all her life, that withoutsomefeeling, a guy’s touch wouldn’t do anything for her.

Still, she raged inside at herself. She been nothing but greedy, thinking only of the personal and perfect pleasure of his touch, and none of the aftermath. In the midst of their passion, she had steadfastly and conveniently forgotten all about the very large elephant in the room, the fact that not only was she from another time, but that she wasn’t who he thought she was. Despite the toe-curling sex, she wasn’t any more his wife today than she was yesterday.

The thing that plagued her most this morning was the other part of her complete recklessness. She’d not been on the pill in more than two years. After she’d broken up with Jason, it had seemed so pointless. She was turned off men at the time, and the pill hadn’t been very kind to her skin. So she’d gone off it, and sadly, hadn’t any need of it until now.

But nope, she’d just had unprotected sex. And what the hell?—what if she became pregnant? How could she leave then?

On the flip side of the coin, she wondered what last night’s sex might mean to him, if anything. She didn’t want to read too much into the delicious sheet-tangling of last night, though it was nearly impossible not to. Truth be known, prior to last night and because of some things he’d said to her, she’d have put a big chunk of her money on Duncan MacQuillan being kind of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of guy. Not because she didn’t suppose in him the virility or pride to bring her to pleasure, but because he was no happier with the marriage than she was, and partly because she still wasn’t very sure he even liked her. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am he most certainly was not. She still didn’t understand why he’s spent so much time making sure she enjoyed herself. Frankly, she had only to look at him to have her engine revved. The few glimpses of his solicitous personality probably helped. If he’d been a total dick to her since they’d wed, likely she’d have been stiff and unyielding inside the bed. But just those few glimpses of the man beneath the savage and severe mask had apparently been enough to loosen her inhibitions, to allow herself to be fully and happily seduced by her husband.

But why had she allowed it to happen?Wantedit to happen, was more apt, actually.

She scoffed at the first answer that came to mind, knowing she was nuts to even consider the tiniest possibility that there was any future with Duncan.

They were from different times.

She’d betrayed him.

She wanted to go home.

They had no future.

Holly dropped her head to her chest, nothing solved, no answers made known to her.

And then all her fears and worries floated away on the wind when two hands appeared on either side of her, briefly startling her until she quickly recognized Duncan’s strong and magical hands. Her initial instinct was to lay her hands over his. She wasn’t sure what prevented her from doing so. She turned her face a bit, finding his close to hers but not touching.

“Graeme advised I might find you here,” he said.

She had a picture or expectation of him nuzzling his face and lips into her neck. She imagined herself leaning back into his broad chest, being enveloped by his arms. Perhaps the freshness of their connection was all that kept either of them from doing either of these things.

However, Holly found some consolation in his next words.

“I owe you a visit to the beach.”

And all the self-directed criticism she’d just entertained was tossed aside as easily as the wind and water might wash away the sand.

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