Highland Fling Part 3
"You saved the lad." She had truly reacted as a healer.
"It's what I'm trained to do. Anyone from my time period trained in basic rescue could've done the same," she said.
Could it be possible? Was Hamish speaking the truth? Could it be so that Hamish wasn't simply daft and the woman had come from the future? It could not be so.
Kate picked her satchel up from the floor where she'd dropped it when Hamish had entered. "I can see you're still not convinced I am who I say I am." She dug in the satchel and pulled out a card. "Here. It's my driver's license." She handed him a card and pointed to a date. "There's mybirthdate ." Darach excelled at sums. He was two hundred and sixty-four years older than Kate Wexford.
What the devil was this? It was a portrait of her, yet not a portrait. "What kind of portrait is this?"
"It's a picture. A photograph." She shrugged, her palms upright. "I'm not sure when photography was invented. Obviously later than this."
He studied the card. It didn't do her justice. Short flaxen hair curled about her face. Wide green eyes with a hint of a frown marring her brow stared at him from the portrait. No smile lifted the corners of her full mouth. It did nothing to capture her wry humor and resilience. "Well, you're more comely than this. I hope you didn't pay much for the rendering."
Her smile stopped just short of a laugh. "Thanks...I think. The DMV isn't much into glamour shots."
He had no idea what a DMV or a glamour shot was but he supposed it didn't matter. What mattered was that he was only about two hundred sixty-four years older than her. And he'd never seen anything like what she called a photograph.
He no longer doubted Hamish. He'd only ever known him to speak the truth and it appeared that it was truth rather than madness. Except the notion that he, Darach, needed this woman and that was why she was here. Her scent teased him, as did the gleam of light on her skin. He'd not deny he wanted her, but there was a world of difference between want and need. He'd wanted women and had them, but he'd never needed them.
"It explains much-your strange accent and manner of speech, your hair-but not why you are here."
Kate glanced up from returning her card to her satchel. "I a.s.sure you I don't want to be here, regardless of what Hamlet said."
He'd be d.a.m.ned if she didn't glare at him as ifhe was to blame for her being here. "It's Hamish and might I remind you that you're the one who showed up naked in my bed."
She tilted her head at a haughty angle and stared down the length of her nose at him. "A gallant man wouldn't have pointed that out and trust me, I want to be back home."
He laughed and knew it held a mocking note. He took a step closer to her. "But you were attracted to me in that painting?" He could feel it now, like some force beneath the inky waters of a loch, something deep and strong between them, something potent beneath the surface.
She blinked, looking up at him and in that moment, he recognized an answering flash of acknowledgement in her eyes. "Yes, I'll admit I was attracted to you when I saw the painting." She smiled with a sweetness he didn't trust. "Of course, that was before your personality factored into it."
Darach threw back his head and laughed. Mayhap she had a strange way with words, but her meaning was clear. Ah, but he was enjoying himself with Katie Wexford. Most of the la.s.ses fair swooned over him. Certainly none had complained about his personality. And he thought Katie was not being exactly truthful. He reached out and tested a measure of her hair between his fingers. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. With great care he tucked the curl behind her well-shaped ear, his fingers lingering against the delicate sh.e.l.l. Her swift intake of breath echoed the pounding of his heart. "Aye, so that means you do not fancy me now?"
She wet her lower lip with the tip of her tongue and l.u.s.t knotted his gut. "Not particularly," she said. Her breathy tone belied her words.
Aye. She was lying. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and it wasn't arrogance on his part. It wasn't fear that left her trembling at his slightest touch. There was fire between them and if he had unraveled this correctly, she needed to admit it. He skimmed his palm over her bare shoulder and heat raced through him. "More'sthe pity."
She held her ground, despite the shiver he felt run through her, and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why do you say that?"
He rested his hands on the smoothness of her bare shoulders, her skin warm and soft beneath his callused palms. He curled his fingers against her sweet flesh. "Because it seems to me that it was l.u.s.t that brought you here..."
"Perhaps."
"Then it stands to reason that if you satisfy that l.u.s.t, you should go back to where you came from."
"Congratulations! That's probably the strangest pick-up line I've ever heard. And I don't think so."
"I'm just trying to help you out, Katie-love." He bracketed her shoulders with his hands, her skin soft beneath his palms.
She shrugged off his touch. "That's terribly generous of you."
He trailed one finger down her arm. "I'm known for my generosity."
"Uh-huh. I'll just bet you are." She swatted his hand away.
Satisfied that she wanted him, he smiled at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm just trying to help you get back to where you want to be."
KATE PACEDto the other side of the room. Not only did pacing help her think, but it got her out of DarachMacTavish's immediate vicinity, which was a bonus in the being able to think department.
Maybe she'd told a little white lie-okay, a whopping white lie-when she said she wasn't as attracted to him as she had been. It was more a matter of she shouldn't be as attracted to him as she had been. But here she'd met this man, under circ.u.mstances beyond weird, and he was proposing they have s.e.x? She didn't think so.
She took a deep breath and her practical side kicked in. Wasn't she bringing twenty-first century mores to a situation where they didn't exactly belong? What were they going to do? Go out to dinner a couple of times? Go to a movie and perhaps a night out at the museum to get to know one another better?
What was the courting ritual in eighteenth-century Scotland? d.a.m.n if she knew. And she didn't want to be courted, she just wanted to go home.
For one panic-inducing moment the thought crept in that she might not be able to get back home. What then? What if she was stuck here? No! She refused to think that way. And maybe DarachMacTavish was on to something. She knew for certain she didn't want to hang out here any longer than necessary.
She liked the twenty-first century. No, that wasn't true. She loved the twenty-first century. And she'd worked too d.a.m.n hard to get that a.s.sistant appointment. She wasn't about to lose her job because she'd been squandering time in the past. And she supposed if she was going to have s.e.x, there were worse specimens out there than the one before her. It probably wouldn't be too bad-if she could just get him to keep his mouth shut.
And much as she didn't want to think in the direction of being stuck here, if she was stuck here for more than a couple of hours, being the chief's lover was probably the safest position to take. But could she just turn off all her years of upbringing and hop in bed with a man who was essentially a stranger? She knew some women fantasized about stuff like this. She wasn't one of them. She just didn't know if she had it in her.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe s.e.x together is the key."
The b.a.s.t.a.r.d actually laughed. "I've seen men more enthusiastic who were about to be hung."
"I'm in a different freaking century and I have no clue whether I'm actually going to make it back to where I want to be. You're a stranger and I'm supposed to be jumping up and down at the prospect of having s.e.x with you?" Bottom line, she was scared. Nearlyspitless . "I'm sure s.e.x with strangers is nothing new to you, but it's not part of my regimen."
All the arrogance and amus.e.m.e.nt vanished, replaced by a kindness she hadn't noted before. "I think things are very different where you come from, I'm sure of it. But no, few strangers show up in these parts and those that do, I don't bed as a rule." He reached out and drew her to him, but it was a gesture of comfort, an offer of protection, which felt almost as foreign to Kate as s.e.x with a stranger. "This must be a terrible situation to find yourself in, Katie-love. We won't take any more action tonight. Rest and on the morn we'll work on this."
"What happens in the meantime, if tomorrow it doesn't work? You said earlier the women would stone me and the men would..." she stumbled, not wanting to even give voice to the possibilities he'd mentioned.
"You have my word that I'll let no harm come to you. I give you my oath as the laird ofGlenagan . No man or woman will dare to cross me on this. You will be protected or I'll die trying."
"Why would you do that for me?"
"Because I have never known Hamish to tell less than the truth and he says I'm the reason you're here which makes you my responsibility and makes it my duty to protect and get you back where you belong without harm befalling you."
She studied his face. It was a strong, bold face that bespoke harshness, yet his eyes reflected honesty and integrity. Kate was very good at compartmentalizing, it was a necessary aspect of her job, but she wasn't good at masking what she thought and felt. Could she trust him? What other option did she have but to trust him? He seemed to read her doubt.
"You'll come to no harm while you are here. And tonight you'll find nothing but sleep in my bed. I can offer you naught but my word and you can do naught but trust me."
HE WAS A FOOLand then some. Mayhap she hadn't been overly eager but he'd not have been forcing her had he bedded her earlier. He could have had a bit of sport and then she could've returned home and he wouldn't be laying here now, tortured by her scent, her soft curves pressed against him, wrapped in his plaid.
He considered taking care of the situation. He could ease his lips against hers, thetenderest of kisses that would slowly rouse her from slumber. Kisses that would suckle the fullness of her lower lip, that would cull the honey of her mouth. Kisses that would steal beneath her hesitation and release the heat he'd sensed. Then he could slide his hand beneath the plaid and ease her legs apart. He could pluck and strum and play her like a lyre until she was fair ready for him. Then he'd ease his rod into her and they'd be about the business that would set both their worlds to rights. But he'd given his word that they'd wait until the morn.
Kate sighed in her sleep and threw one arm up over her head, threatening to spill one breast over the edge of theMacTavish tartan. Darach sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. There'd be no relieving the ache in his loins tonight. No, hisbluidy mouth had taken care of that. He supposed he was glad Katie Wexford was getting a good night's sleep. One of them might as well.
DARACH STOMPED INTOthe courtyard in a fine temper the following morning. He should've tumbled the la.s.s last night and been done with it. Then mayhap he'd have gotten some sleep instead of stewing about in his own l.u.s.ttil morn. He made straight for Hamish.
Hamish didn't bother to hide his grin. "I see a night with your la.s.s did nothing to sweeten your temper."
Darach scowled. "She is abluidy thorn in my side."
"Hmph. I'd have guessed a thorn in another part."
"When you're done with your jest, I need answers."
Hamish sobered and shook his head. "You won't find them from me. I would if I could, but I don't know. It's the way I told you last eve, I don't make decisions. I didn't pick her. You picked her. I just get a sense of who and when. She wouldn't be here if she was not supposed to be here."
"So you said. And since she was naked in my bed, we both decided that 'twas l.u.s.t that brought her here and taking care of that should send her back."
Hamish held his hands, palm up, in a helpless gesture. "Sounds reasonable to me. But if it's want of a tumble that brought her here and a good tumble that will send her back, why do you look so sour? Since when has that curried a frown?" Darach glared at him and Hamish began to laugh. "You didn't, didyae ?"
Darach raked an exasperated hand through his hair. "She was nervous. Strange place. Strange man. Strange century."
"You are a good man, DarachMacTavish ."
"I'm abluidy foolish man." He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. "I shouldna let the night pa.s.s. I think I've finally convinced her to stay put and out of sight but I don't think she understands what could happen to her if she was caught outside of the castle." The Highlands were a wild and dangerous place and 'twas often difficult to know which man was friend and which was foe.
"It's been two years and we haven't had another incident with the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."
"Aye. But I think it's just a matter of time. And we all know. Our women don't go unattended and our men are prepared when they go with them."
Two years and hatred for the English still burned a black hole in his soul. Two years he'd lived with his cousin Ian losing his brideMoragh to marauding dragoons who'd considered a Scots la.s.s a bit of sport.
They'd bound Ian to a tree and taken turns rapingMoragh in front of her husband. They'd left her on the ground like a piece of offal. BeautifulMoragh of the red hair and bright green eyes had died afterward.
Ian not only lost his wife that day, he'd gone daft and grieved himself to death and the clanMacTavish had learned a painful, costly lesson. No Scotsman was safe as long as that Hanoverian dog sat on the British throne. Not only was Bonnie Prince Charlie the rightful king, but without him, Scotland's fate seemed grim indeed.
It had become increasingly clear to both of them that Scotland's salvation lay in seeing Charles sit the throne. As they had discussed more than once, Darach's hesitation in swearing his fealty to the cause had been the lack of a clear plan as to accomplish that feat.
"I won't have another woman raped on my watch and I won't take what she is not willing to give." As laird, it was his right to take what he wanted. He knew of those that did, but Darach was not of that ilk. "I have no need of a woman who's not eager and willing to spread her legs for me."
"And have you ever met one?"
"I did last night." The hair stood on the nape of his neck and heat collided through him. He glanced toward the solar window. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her. She was there, watching him. He knew it as clearly as if she'd called to him by name. He glanced at the storm gathering in the distance, across the moor. "There's a storm coming."
"So it would seem."
"I'm going up there now. She is up and awake."
"And you know this how?"
Was he going to announce to Hamish that he could feel her looking at him? That he seemed to have a connection...a sense...about this woman he'd never experienced with anyone else. He didn't think he'd divulge that bit of vulnerability to Hamish.
Not only did he dislike the feeling of vulnerability, it wasn't safe for Katie either. Those close to men in his position, lairds who inherited the care of the clan, were often used as p.a.w.ns.
Power could be a dangerous thing. Those that didn't have it wanted it. And he'd much rather be the one in power than the one without, but often those that coveted it, didn't realize the price extracted and the responsibilities that came hand in hand with it.
But he'd felt her fear, her apprehension last night. Just the way he felt her watching him now. "I'm just guessing she's up now. And I don't trust her to stay put. I have no idea how long this is going to take but I'm going to do my best to send her home. Allow no one to disturb me."
"And what shall I tell anyone who asks?"
His people were a curious lot, for sure. And he couldna blame them. Curiosity was the mark of a MacTavish . And he was curious enough as to how she tasted, what her scent would be like with his mark on her, what she'd feel like, look like, with him deep inside her, the way she'd sound when he brought her to satisfaction. He fair burned with the need to sate his curiosity. "Tell them I have a fever."
KATE STOOD AT THE WINDOWand buried her face in the soft wool that bore the scent she'd come to a.s.sociate with s.e.xual arousal, the scent that she'd first known from a painting. Darach MacTavish's . It was still a fantastical concept that her practical mind found difficult to embrace but-she glanced around her at the turret room complete with stone walls and a definite lack of twenty-first century amenities-this definitely wasn't Atlanta, Georgia.
Of course that had been painfully apparent when she'd woken with a full bladder and finally found a chamber pot in the other corner. There was a lot to be said for flush toilets. She'd popped a piece of spearmint gum from her purse in her mouth in lieu of a toothbrush.
Dark clouds scudded across the dark sky, unrelieved by even a glimmer of sunlight. She had no clue what time it was and it was harder still to gauge the time with the heavy cloud cover.
Far below, people moved about. Men, women, children and an a.s.sortment of animals. Sheep, chickens, duck, was that an oxen? She made sure to stay back, out of sight. If she didn't need to go traipsing about on her own-she took his warning of stoning and rape as real, he didn't seem the type given to exaggeration-she'd surmise she didn't need to advertise her presence by hanging out of a window.
Even with the mix of people below, she immediately spotted Darach. Some of the other men were as tall and their shoulders equally as wide, but he wore an unmistakable air of command. As if he possessed some sixth sense, he glanced up at the window where she stood. He was far below her but she could feel the heat of his gaze, the connection between them even at that distance. He looked away and said something to the man beside him, who she thought must be Hamish but it was difficult to tell at this distance, and then strode toward the castle.
She flushed and antic.i.p.ation hummed through her, pebbling her nipples against the brush of the plaid.
She had forgotten it until this moment, but she'd dreamed of him last night. Her body felt full and ripe as she recalled the way he'd kissed her. The feel of his mouth against her lips, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the fullness of him between her thighs. She'd woken and realized it was only a dream because the man had been next to her, but not on her or in her and she'd fallen back to sleep, knowing a vague discontent and a definite ache.
She knew with a certainty that he was on his way up to her. And she knew what he was coming for. Last night he'd said wait until the morning. Morning appeared to be here. He was a stranger and she didn't know him any better than she had last night but she wasn't nearly as reluctant now.
Okay, she wasn't into self-delusion. One, she did know him better than she had last night because she'd learned quite a bit about the man who'd sensed her hesitation and then given and kept his word throughout the night. It also told her something about the laird ofGlenagan that he'd left her to sleep this morning when he could've so easily awakened her and done the deed.
And this morning she seemed to have lost her trepidation about intimacy with a sort-of stranger. She wanted to go back to Atlanta and her century in a desperate kind of way and honestly, it had been a long, long time since she'd had s.e.x. She wasn't into casual s.e.x and she wasn't much into relationships because they were messy and potentially devastating and she was busy and well...it just hadn't happened in a long time.
But, if she thought about it rationally, this could be a beautiful thing. He turned her on. She seemed to turn him on. A little togetherness then she'd go back to her century and he'd stay in his and that would take care of any post-coital awkwardness. There wouldn't be any fear that she'd run into him in the hall at the hospital or b.u.mp into him at a restaurant.
All things considered, this could be the perfect solution. She discarded her gum into the wrapper and put it back in her purse. She finger combed her hair and was decidedly glad she didn't have a mirror. She really didn't want to know what she looked like without fresh make-up and hair gel. She stood in front of the glowing embers in the grate and waited.
WITHIN MINUTESMACTAVISHentered the room carrying a bowl. He closed the door behind him with a dull thud.
"I thought you might be hungry," he said, proffering the dish.
He didn't just enter a room, he commanded it, filled it with his sheer size and force of presence. Kate's heart beat like a tom-tom in her chest. And she realized that she was in fact hungry.
She took the bowl of what looked like oatmeal and thanked him. She was somewhere this side of ravenous. Taking a bite, she found it surprisingly good. She hadn't expected to like it. She proceeded to finish it in an embarra.s.singly short amount of time.
She placed the empty bowl on the table to the left of the fire. "Thankyou, again."
MacTavishrefueledthe fire and it blazed to life. Outside, a fury of wind, rain, thunder and lightning lashed at the castle that stood undaunted by the elements. The fire warmed the room and burnished his skin to a golden glow.
He reached out and Kate felt his touch almost before his fingers brushed her flesh. It was as if every nerve ending craved his touch. An ache unlike anything she'd known before welled inside her and she curved her cheek into his hand.
"Your skin is like the finest fabric. You are a woman who was meant to be touched."
She'd never given it any thought. In fact, until now she would've disagreed, but the mere drag of his fingers against her cheek resonated through her. She traced the back of his hand. It was like learning a new terrain-the length of his fingers, the sinewy ridges, the leashed power. The desire burning in his dark eyes came through in his touch.
"I've a terrible hunger for one of your kisses." He said, lowering his head, blocking the light of the fire.