Tuesday Tales: From the Word LEG

Welcome back to Tuesday Tales, the place where a small group of authors share their works in progress with you. Each scene is based on a word prompt. Today’s word is LEG. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones.

Marina locked her suite door once more, but instead of stepping away from it, she leaned her back against it before slowly letting her legs buckle and sliding to the floor.

What had just happened?

There had been something wondrous and magical about the Aurora Borealis, something unique and invigorating. She’d sensed an energy, so much stronger than what she’d felt at Stonehenge or at the Avebury Circle, but this had been more than a simple static electrical charge. She’d recognized love and joy, power and purpose in the delicate force that had somehow drenched her as the beams touched her. Glittering? It wouldn’t surprise her. Every inch of her body had tingled. She’d been alive in a way she’d never felt before, especially when Jerome had held her, and she’d felt his heartbeat attuned to hers. It had been as if they were the only two people in the world, created specifically for that moment in time.

If ever she’d doubted the wisdom of coming here, those few minutes bathed in the energy from the lights convinced her that she was right where she needed to be, here at Fraser Hall. The threats were mere nuisances. They didn’t matter. There were forces at play who would protect her and keep her safe. She might not understand any of this, but she was 100 percent sure of it.

And Jerome? That was another matter. His kiss had transported her back into the arms of the lover in her dreams, convincing her that somehow the archeologist was the man she loved, the man she’d dreamed of, the man she was destined to be with–the man who’d tried to buy her inheritance from Angus. Damn! Why was everything so confusing?

And yet the kiss had been everything that she remembered, everything that she craved, and everything she suddenly recalled, only better, more vibrant, and real … so real.

The sensation of her fingers running through his hair, the taut muscles on his shoulders, the slight beard as smooth as silk against her skin. It was exactly as it should be, and yet hadn’t his hair been longer? His arms around her were strong and solid, but had they been more muscular? Still, when his body hardened, she’d been ready to give in to him until the scream had pierced her consciousness and forced her to pull away.

She could still hear the cry of anguish and fury echoing inside her head.

No! Not him! Me! You must choose me!

That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.