Bound By Passion

Cam had initiated the disaster by striking the first match. Then Duncan, usually the one to remain on the sidelines, had joined in. Finally Reid had succumbed to the hypnotic power of the bright flames. Their little adventure had progressed quickly from striking individual matches to starting a small blaze in a wastebasket which had severely damaged one wall of kitchen cabinets before the fire department arrived on the scene to put it out.

Even more than the scorched wood, he regretted the look of disappointment in his mother’s eyes.

But he wasn’t eight years old anymore. Dammit. Nell was changing him. There was something in her that tempted him to give in to that streak of recklessness that he suspected he and his brothers had inherited from his father. He wasn’t sure he could resist her any more than he’d been able to resist striking that match on that long-ago afternoon. What he was absolutely certain of was that, if he started this particular fire, disaster lay ahead.

He didn’t move into the room when he spoke. “You’re not ready to call it a night yet.”

“No.” She flicked him a glance, then turned her attention back to the painting. “I want to start looking for the necklace.”

“Tonight?”

“The clock is ticking. And this portrait is part of the story. For years it’s been the only evidence that the sapphires exist. I think there’s something in it that might provide a clue.”

Intrigued, Reid joined her in front of the painting. “Why do you think that?”

“It’s always been called her wedding portrait, but that can’t be what it really is. True, she’s wearing a white dress and there are flowers in her hair. But she and Angus ran away.” Nell gestured to the upper right-hand corner of the painting. “You can see the stone arch that Angus built for her. So she sat for this portrait after they’d been here awhile. In my book, they married onboard the ship that brought them here. I had them renew their wedding vows beneath the arch once it was completed.”

“In celebration of their first anniversary,” Reid murmured.

She turned to stare at him. “You read It’s All Good?”

He picked up a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Several times. I enjoyed it. Their story has always intrigued me, and you captured the heart of it in your book.”

When she said nothing and continued to stare at him, he said, “You seem surprised that I enjoyed it.”

“I’m trying to imagine you reading a children’s story.”

He smiled then. Because he wanted badly to do more than touch her hair, he dropped the strand and turned to the portrait. “Eleanor has always fascinated me. That summer when you and your sisters first showed us this painting and told us her story, my brothers immediately focused on finding the missing jewels. I was struck by the woman.”

He had to wonder if that was because, even then, she made him think of the woman Nell would become. They had the same gold hair, pale skin, delicate features, stubborn chin. And the mouth. Eleanor’s lips were slightly parted as if they were just waiting for a lover’s kiss. His mind slipped back to that moment in the car when he’d been staring at Nell’s mouth and nothing had mattered to him but kissing her. And more.

He could so easily have more. She was standing close enough that, if either of them moved, he would feel the brush of her body against his. If he turned ever so slightly, he could pull her into his arms. She wouldn’t resist, and he could once more lose himself in the explosive heat of her response. Lose himself in her.

He shifted his gaze to the necklace. That was what he should be thinking about. “Perhaps the painting does hold the key. If we assume she was the one who hid them—”

“She did,” Nell interrupted. “I’m certain of it.”

“Why? Why not just pass them on to her heirs?”

Nell frowned at the portrait. “According to the story that was passed down, the jewels were Eleanor’s dowry. But Deanna Lewis told Piper that they didn’t belong to Eleanor, that she and whoever her partner was had a stronger claim. Maybe Eleanor felt the same way—that the jewels really did belong to someone else. After all, she eloped with Angus. That suggests that he may not have been someone her family approved of.”

“Interesting.”

“Deanna and Gwendolen may hold the answer.”

He glanced at her. “What about your theory that you and your sisters are meant to find them? How does that fit?”

“I don’t know exactly. But if I were going to hide something as beautiful as those jewels, I’d leave a clue. What better place to put it than in this portrait? Maybe that’s why she had it painted in the first place and why she wore the sapphires. It’s probably why this painting has survived all these years.”

“Good point.” Reid used her theory to study the portrait through a new lens. This time instead of focusing on Eleanor and her jewels, he concentrated on the other details. “She’s sitting in the garden on a bench. There’s a pile of books or notebooks next to her.”

“Sketch pads, I’m betting. She drew,” Nell said. “All of the illustrations in my book are based on her sketches.”

“I read about that. The two of you share a talent for bringing images vividly to life. The location of that spot is somewhere in the gardens within sight of the stone arch, but I don’t recall that latticework directly behind her.”

“My father believed she was sitting in the gazebo,” Nell said. “The wood structure rotted away years ago, but the stone foundation is still there.” She sent him a smile. “You should remember it. You spent a day there playing tea party with me.”

“What I remember is a pile of rocks.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Nell took a step back. “And so is the clue to the location of the necklace if we could just see it.”

Still intrigued, he continued to study the painting. To hell with talking her into going to bed and getting a fresh start in the morning. His best strategy was to indulge her desire to be independent and encourage her to take the lead. And maybe it was time he surprised her. “If your theory is right and Eleanor is pointing the way to the jewels in this portrait, you’ll want to start at the stone arch. Let’s go out there right now.”

She turned to stare at him. “I was going to suggest that, but I was sure you’d argue.”

He grinned at her. “Waste of time. You were going to make the point that, as long as the autograph lady and company are depending on you to lead them to the necklace, you’ll be safe. And if someone is out there watching, they’ll see you’re doing exactly what they want.”

She shot him a frown as they moved out of the room. “I don’t like that you can practically read my mind.”

The feeling was mutual, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. Instead, he said, “Your mind works in a very logical way.”

Her smile held a hint of mischief. “Not always. I think it’s time that I filled you in on the fantasy box that my sisters and I buried in the stones a long time ago.”

9

“I’VE ALWAYS LOVED the gardens,” Nell said. “Especially at this time of night. All I have to do is take a breath and I can almost taste the roses and the freesias.”

All Reid could smell was Nell, and his desire to taste her again was growing with each step they took. In spite of his belief that their trip to the stone arch put her in minimal danger, he still kept himself alert.

The full moon gleamed off the lake, and stars, undimmed by city lights, sparkled in the clear sky overhead. The illumination provided by Mother Nature made them fairly visible to anyone who might have stationed themselves in the hills that jutted up on three sides of the grounds. There could be someone up there right now, keeping an eye on the castle and specifically on Nell’s movements.

When a sudden turn in the path caused her to brush against his arm, the desire that simmered constantly now in his blood shot to full boil. His awareness, previously attuned to their surroundings, narrowed to her as swiftly and dramatically as a spotlight on a stage. God, he wanted to touch her, really touch her. To slip that drab little suit off her and let his hands slowly, very slowly, mold every inch of her. Temptation grew as he imagined just how quickly he could edge her off the path and into the cover provided by the flowering trees that filled this particular part of the gardens. He wanted to give in to it—to throw caution to the wind, pull her into the shadows and just take her. It would be wonderfully crazy, and the certainty that she wouldn’t resist him—that she’d deny him nothing—gave an unprecedented power to the images filling his mind. He might have made them a reality, if they hadn’t stepped into the clearing in front of the stone arch.

Reid had to blink against brightness of the floodlights trained on the stones. They’d been installed after someone had planted a bomb inside the arch, once the first earring had been discovered. That person had nearly killed Alba. The sudden memory dragged him back to the real danger that still threatened Nell and her family.

When she started forward, he took her arm. “Let’s keep to the edge of the light until we have to step into it.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen them lit up like that. I think Angus would have liked it.”

Reid recalled the first time he’d seen the stone arch. At ten he’d been impressed with the structure. It was a tunnel, really—ten feet long, ten high in the center and eight feet wide. He and his brothers had measured it off. It impressed him no less now that it was lit up like a monument. He was even more impressed with the man who’d built it. It had lasted two hundred years, and it would be here for years to come. So would the legend. “Not many men leave behind such a legacy.”

“It’s a real tribute to the power of love,” Nell said.

“That kind of love is rare,” Reid said. “A lot of people want it, but very few achieve it.” He should tell her again that it wasn’t in the cards for them. She had to want the rarified kind of love.

His mother certainly had. And now it seemed she’d found it with A.D., and Nell’s aunt and sisters had found chances at their own happy-ever-afters. A.D. was a good man. So was Daryl. Cam and Duncan were good men. They’d never promise what they didn’t think they could deliver on. But if the stats held true, two out of the four of those couples would be denied what they most desired. That’s what he needed to tell her.

Before he could, she said, “I couldn’t agree more. Even the few who are lucky enough to find true love can have it snatched away and be nearly destroyed by the loss. My father’s a prime example of that. When my mother died, my sisters and I lost him, too. He was so devastated that he hid away in his rooms painting. I was too young to understand at the time, but when I finally did, I decided that true love isn’t worth the risk. Not to mention the drama and the stress. And even with the legend, there are no guarantees.”

Hadn’t he always felt the same way? Why did it bother him that she’d simply voiced his own assessment? Or perhaps he was just annoyed by the impossibility of arguing with someone who shared his opinion.

Nell took a deep breath and told herself to shut up. She’d made her point, and she was starting to babble. The walk through the garden had taken its toll on her concentration. She’d lied about loving the scent of the roses and the freesias. She’d barely noticed them compared to Reid. He smelled of soap: simple, basic. Wonderful. When he’d accidentally brushed up against her arm, she’d lost her train of thought completely.

Not good.

She needed to keep her head as clear as one of her heroines if she was going to achieve all her goals tonight. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she fingered the two slips of pink paper that had been burning a hole there all evening. The action helped her refocus.

They reached the far end of the clearing where the distance to the opening of the stone arch was only about twenty-five yards away. She needed to get to the fantasy box. “My sisters and I used to sneak out here late at night when we thought Aunt Vi was asleep. The instant we stepped out of the gardens, we always used to race for the stones.” She flicked him a look. “Bet I can beat you.” She took off.

The element of surprise should have guaranteed her a victory. But Reid was fast, his reflexes honed to perfection. He clamped a hand on her arm within the first ten yards, and they ended the race in a tie. When they finally stood beneath the arch, she was breathing hard. He wasn’t.

“You’ve got to remember to let me do my bodyguarding thing.” His hand was still wrapped around her arm, but his grip was no longer as firm. So there was no reason at all for her to feel the pressure of each one of his fingers. Even less reason for her knees to turn to water.

Then she made the mistake of looking at him. He’d turned to scan the clearing, and the memory of him on their parent’s wedding day superimposed itself over what she was seeing now. He’d been standing in profile that day, too. His hair had been longer then and more tousled. She’d wanted so much to touch it. To touch him. The urge had been so acute that if the bridal couple hadn’t separated her from him, she was sure she would have.

Nothing separated them right now. They were alone. She could do exactly what she’d wanted to do that afternoon seven years ago, what she’d started to do in the hospital parking lot. All she had to do was lift her hand. But when she pulled it out of her pocket, she was holding the two slips of pink paper, and her grip on reality and her goals came back into focus. First things first.

“Nell...”

She met his eyes, and for a moment she wavered. It would be so easy to step into his arms and kiss him again. So easy to just lose herself in that whirlwind of excitement that was waiting for her. She certainly wanted to. But if she did, they’d do more than kiss. Then he’d have second thoughts again, just as he had in the car. Worse still, he’d regret it. That was the kind of man she was dealing with. A man who lived by a very strict code. A man who didn’t want to hurt her. A protector.

She was pretty sure that the fantasy she’d begun all those years ago was the perfect solution. But first she had to set up the story line.

“I have to tell you about these pink slips and the fantasy box,” she said. “From the time we were little, my sisters and I used to sneak out here, write down our goals and dreams and put them into this metal box.” Turning, she dropped to her knees and ran her hand along the base of the arch. “I’ll show you.”

Reid stayed right where he was, hoping to get a grip on his resolve. And his sanity. A moment ago, he’d nearly lost both. Dragging his eyes away from Nell, he glanced around the stone arch.

It would be dangerous and reckless to drag her into the shadows in the garden and make love to her. But to do the same thing beneath the arch that Angus MacPherson had built for his true love? That was just crazy.

Saved by two pieces of folded pink paper. And a box of fantasies?

Curious, he squatted down and tried to get a better look at what she was doing. “Can I help?”

Her first response was a grunt, followed by, “I think I’ve got it.”

Stone scraped against stone. Then Nell turned, sat on her heels and set a small metal box on the stone floor. When she opened it, Reid saw that it was divided in three sections with folded sheets of colored paper in each one.

“It was Adair who thought of it.” Nell explained her sister’s plan. “To make it even more adventurous, we would all meet in Piper’s room and then climb down from her balcony. Hers was closest to the ground.”

As he listened, Reid was just as fascinated by the story as he was by the play of shadows and muted light on her face. She had a gift with words that drew vivid pictures of the three sisters climbing down the balcony, then racing through the gardens to bury their deepest and most heartfelt desires in the stones. He’d been touched when she’d told him that the box had originally been their mother’s jewelry box. Amused when he’d learned that they’d each used a different color of paper to guard their privacy and that her color had turned out to be pink.

“Some of my goals were pretty frivolous,” she admitted with a wry smile. “One of my early ones was to just be taller than my sisters.”

“When did you achieve it?” Reid asked.

“Six years later. Of course, I was hoping for an overnight change. At twelve, I was wishing I’d set my sights higher. My sisters didn’t offer much of a challenge in the height department.”

Reid laughed. “With siblings it’s always about competition and pecking order.”

“Even with triplets?”

“Especially with triplets.”

After glancing at the slips in her palm, she handed one of them to Reid. “I’m going to use the box again and tap into the power of the stones.”

And it was going to work. Whatever doubts she’d had, whatever nerves plagued her had begun to fade the moment her fingers first brushed against her mother’s jewelry box. There was a power here that had never failed her.

While he leaned toward the mouth of the arch to maximize the light, she glanced down at the folded pieces of pink paper she’d written her sexual fantasy on. They were easy to identify because all the other goals were written on small single sheets. She’d filled two large pieces of paper with her plans for Reid, and over the years she’d expanded them a lot.

“‘My goal is to find Eleanor’s sapphire necklace before sundown tomorrow,’” Reid read aloud. Then he refolded the slip of paper and passed it to her. “You’re being more specific with your time frame, I see.”

“A lesson learned the hard way.” She placed the goal on the top of the pile.

“You really believe that putting that into the box and tucking it into the stones is going to help you find the necklace?”

“I know it is. There’s a power here.” Positive of that, she placed the second slip of paper she’d brought on the top of her pile and closed the lid.

“Don’t I get to read that one?”

“I’ll tell you all about it.” Just as soon as I get it buried. She slid the box into its niche and replaced the stones. Then, still on her knees, she faced him. “That final piece of paper was a sexual fantasy I wrote about you on the night our parents married.”

“Nell—”

She stopped him by placing a hand over his lips. “Let me finish. I knew even then that you would be a reluctant lover, so I wrote about seducing you. I’d never before imagined myself in that kind of role, but with you it was easy. Let me turn that fantasy into reality. Just one night—no harm, no foul.”

When he said nothing, she moved her hand to his shoulder, then down his arm and closed them around his fingers. Triumph thrilled her when his fingers gripped hers hard. “I’ve waited so long to touch you, and it’s the perfect time. Once we find the necklace and everyone’s safe, we’ll go our separate ways. End of story.”

“Life doesn’t work like a story line, Nell. Shit happens.”

“I’m a big girl. I can handle shit.” She raised his hand to her mouth, kissed their linked fingers. Then she placed her free hand on his chest. His heart was beating as hard as hers. “My story line in my fantasy is all about enjoying each other for as long as we can.”

With his free hand, he simply took a strand of her hair. “People leave.”

“Of course they do.” There was no mistaking the flash of pain she’d seen in his eyes. Odd that she’d never thought of Reid as being vulnerable. But it occurred to her that he might be just as afraid of being hurt as he was of hurting her.

Her instinct was to soothe. “People walk in and out of our lives all the time. I lost my mother before I could even remember her. Adair and Piper missed her terribly. But they at least had the memory of her. I don’t. You and I can have each other now. I’d rather live with the memory of that than with regret, wouldn’t you?”

Regrets. Reid was sure he’d have them. He already knew he wanted to give her more than she was asking for. More than he was capable of giving her. “You win.”

When he leaned toward her, she placed a firm hand on his chest. “We have to find a better place for me to seduce you. We don’t want the legend kicking in.” Rising, she tugged him with her and stepped out of the stone arch. “In my fantasy, I started my seduction very slowly. Just a stolen kiss in the gardens. Come on. I’ll show you.”

“I can’t wait.” He’d been wanting to kiss her ever since they’d left the castle. Ever since the last time he’d kissed her. For seven long years.

Forever.

In one quick move, he pushed her into the shadows at the side of the arch and caged her against the stones. Her eyes darkened; her breath caught. He could have sworn he felt her body melting into his until every soft, round curve fit perfectly.

“Wait. In my fantasy, I’m supposed to be the seductress.”

“You’ve done your job.” He streaked his hands up her sides and thrust his fingers into her hair and crushed her lips with his. The low purr in her throat shot fire straight to his loins. The desire he’d felt for her, already consuming, became even more raw, more impatient, more primitive. Undeniable. It beat in his blood, in his mind, until he couldn’t think. He could only want. Take.

He inched them farther into the shadows, but she slowed his progress by fisting her hands in his hair to keep his mouth on hers. Gone was the slow, gentle seduction she’d begun beneath the arch. Her tongue met his, tangling, tasting, testing. Her hands were just as demanding, tugging his shirt free from his pants so she could run her hands up his back.

And those nails. Each scrape, each little stab fanned the flames she’d ignited with her story. He couldn’t stop touching her. She was stronger than he’d imagined and more agile. She moved against him, not in submission but in aggression. Give me more, she seemed to demand. As if there were something he was holding back.

He wasn’t. He couldn’t. He thought he’d known all the variations of desire before, but it had never sliced at his control this way. As he dragged her closer, he thought that maybe she was all he’d ever wanted—the softness, the fire. When she was pressed against him like this, it was easy to block out the past, the future, and think only of now. Of having her right now.

Nell told herself she had to think. She had to breathe. But the searing heat he created was burning her seduction plans with the ferocity of a wildfire. When he tore away his mouth to run kisses over her face, her throat, she dragged in a breath and willed the oxygen to her brain. She needed a new plan.

“Wait.”

“Nell....” His grip on her tightened. “You want me to stop?”

“No. I just want you to let me show you another fantasy I’ve dreamed of.” The night air filled her lungs, and the sound of her ragged breathing mingled with his was erotic, tempting. “I’ve dreamed so often of doing this.” She pulled his belt free. “And this.” She unsnapped his jeans and tugged down the zipper. “And finally this.” She freed him and wrapped her hand around him. The instant she did, she revised the rest of her plan because she simply couldn’t wait another moment. “Now you can kiss me again.”

The instant his mouth crushed hers, she did her best to melt into him. Her body had never felt this alive. She could even feel her blood racing through her veins. There was so much to absorb—every hard angle and plane of his body. The roughness of his hands as he gripped her hips to pull her closer. The sharp, unyielding press of the rocks at her back. Each separate sensation brought its own unique thrill.

He tore his mouth from hers to run his lips over her face as if he was determined to absorb every texture through the sense of taste alone. Then he kissed her again with a thorough, feverish fury as if he were looking for some flavor that she might deny him.

She denied him nothing. He was showing her more than anyone ever had, opening doors she hadn’t known existed. And he could give her more. More than she’d ever imagined. The very thought that he might take her here and now, with such urgent need and desperation, sent her own desires spiraling. She raced her mouth down his neck, sank her teeth into the curve of his shoulder. The flavors were amazing. Addicting.

Now. The word hammered in her blood, pounded in her mind, as she dragged her mouth free of his. The cool night air eased her burning lungs as he dealt with her clothes. She thought she’d never felt anything more erotic than the slide of her dress over her arms and head. Once free of it, she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

They’d waited too long. A lifetime. He lifted her hips; she wrapped her legs around him.

“Now.”

When she said the word, fresh needs exploded inside of him. Reid could see her eyes in the muted light, needed to see them as the last of his control shredded. He plunged into her. She surrounded him. For a moment, neither of them moved.

If he could have, he would have held on to the moment forever. But she’d weakened him when she’d begun to strip him. Unable to resist, he began to move, quickly, fiercely. The sultry sound of her moans fanned the flames as she matched him thrust for thrust until he knew nothing else, wanted nothing else. He swore once without knowing what he cursed. Then savagely he increased the pace. Faster and faster, harder and harder, they raced into the vortex of a storm—a place where neither of them had ever been. Then they shattered.

* * *

SANITY SLIPPED IN SLOWLY. Reid had no idea how long he’d stood there, pressing her into the stone arch as bits and pieces of reality trickled in. She was still wrapped tightly around him, her head on his shoulder. His breath was still coming in gasps. His heart was still hammering against his chest. He still couldn’t think clearly.

And he was trembling.

No woman had ever made him tremble before. Somehow he found the strength to angle his head so that he could look at her. Her eyes were open, dazed. A fresh wave of desire shot through him. He felt himself grow hard again inside her.

Good Lord, he needed a moment. Just a moment, he told himself. Or he was going to take her again like a madman.

Murmuring his name, Nell ran her hand down his back. There’d been something in his eyes when he’d looked at her—vulnerability. It had her nestling closer. The gesture flooded him with warmth.

“It wasn’t exactly what I’d planned.”

“I’ll take it. Gladly.” Reid tipped her chin up. “Are you all right? I wasn’t careful.”

She smiled at him. “Neither was I.”

“I wasn’t careful about something else. Protection.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “I have it covered.”

His body jerked, pressing her hard into the side of the arch. The pinging sound registered in her brain at the same instant that she felt the sting on her cheek. Reid pivoted, holding her tightly against him as he sprinted into the stone arch. Then she was on the ground, his body on top of hers and her breath whooshed out.

“Don’t move,” he said.

Not a possibility. She could barely drag in a breath. Her mind was racing to process what had just happened—the jerk of Reid’s body, the sound like stone hitting stone.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Someone took a shot at us.” He’d lifted his head and was staring beyond them through the other end of the tunnel at the wooded hillside behind the stone arch. Her lover was gone and the Secret Service agent was back.

“The floodlights don’t spill in this far,” he was saying, “so I think we’re safe for the moment. Stay put.”

When he moved, she gripped his shoulders and held tight. “You shouldn’t leave again. You said we were safe here.”

“Cell phone,” he said. “I’m calling Daryl. He can douse the floodlights.”

That was when she realized that her hand was wet. Sticky. When she saw the dark color, fear fluttered in her throat like a trapped bird. “He...hit you.”

“A scratch.” Without bothering to check the wound, he spoke into his cell. “Daryl, we’ve got a problem. We’re in the stone arch. Someone took a shot at us a couple of seconds ago. He nicked my upper arm, but Nell’s fine. I figure the shooter was in the hills behind the arch. About twenty-five feet up and maybe fifty feet to the right.”

The floodlights went out.

“Thanks. We were beneath the stones for five to ten minutes, and when we stepped out, we lingered at the side of the arch for a minute or so.”

Lingered.

She could only seem to process one word at a time. From the moment she’d felt Reid’s blood, it was as if her brain had been frozen. As he outlined to Daryl what had happened, reality sank in. While they’d made love, someone—a sniper—had taken aim at Reid and shot him.

A wave of dizziness struck her.

They’d lingered.

To fulfill her fantasy. Her fault. They’d made love right out in the open when someone was threatening to kill off her family. And Reid. Her fault again. She tightened her grip on him and held on for dear life.

“Relax,” he murmured, pulling off her hands. Then he shifted so that he could keep an eye on both entrances. “Daryl will be here in a moment, and we’ll get you safely back to the castle.”

But it wasn’t her safety that had been threatened. She’d put her subplot in front of her plot, and it had nearly cost Reid his life.