Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two Page 9

  With the help of Morgan, Gavin had brought the man down to the shore surrounding the Loch when the moon was full just as the crone had instructed.

  But after hours of waiting for the appearance of the creature and with the man sobbing so badly ta spare his life, when the sun began to rise Morgan had finally decided ta let him go. Saying that the creature was obviously not interested in a man.

  Where he went after that was still a mystery to Gavin, but if the truth of the matter were ta be told, he didn’t really care either. The only thing he cared about was staying out of prison and away from the Headsman’s ax.

  They had been free from captivity for a few months now. And every full moon they went ta retrieve another person. But not one of them were able ta rouse the creature in the Loch from its hiding place, and he was beginning to wonder if such a creature even existed.

  “Mayhap there is no one coming tonight,” Morgan suggested hopefully.

  Gavin exhaled loudly and swiped his hand over his face. He turned back around to look at Morgan. “What are the odds of that happening my friend?”

  “Och, ye know it was only a suggestion. A man can hope can he not?”

  “Aye, ye can hope all ye want but ye know as well as I do, the odds of that happening are on the slim side.”

  “Aye, I know.” Morgan took a breath, awaiting the arrival of another witch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  HIGHLAND GAMES, WEST VIRGINIA

  The Festival - Present Day

  To my delight, when we finally arrived at the games, the place was deserted, a sign posted at the field entrance.

  “Due to the inclement weather the games have been postponed indefinitely.”

  Hallelujah! I wanted to whoop, holler, and do a happy dance to boot.

  Well, I did…that is …until I saw Gavin’s face.

  He looked devastated, which in turn made me feel pretty bad as well. Granted, I could understand why, sort of. But seriously, couldn’t he at least try to hide it a bit?

  “There are other games,” I said finally. Actually, there was a rather sizeable list of Scottish Festivals and Highlands Games that I had discovered while researching the men. Who knew it was such a big deal.

  His face brightened. “Where?”

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. My shoulders slumped in defeat. “There are some in central Virginia next weekend.”

  “Can we go ta them?”

  I sighed. “Sure.”

  “Are they far from here?”

  “Only about an hour or two.”

  “Should we leave now?”

  “How about we wait until tomorrow since we have some time to kill.”

  “Och, lass, ye need ta speak more plainly if ye want me ta respond. This killing of time doesna make sense ta me.”

  “It just means we have time. Meaning…Oh never mind.” I threw my car in reverse and turned around, heading back the way we had just come.

  ♦

  The trees were turning from one color to the next, as the first signs of fall were making an appearance. The air had a chill in it as well—a reminder that fall wasn’t too far away. Under normal circumstances, I would have enjoyed the ride back to the hotel more. Stands were set up on the sides of the road, with fresh cider and apples and even kettle corn. When I stopped to fill up my car with gas, I walked over to one of the stands and got some kettle corn to eat for the rest of the drive, as well as some cider to drink.

  Gavin took one look at the bag and shook his head. “Och, why is it so strange looking?”

  “It’s just popcorn.” I reached into the clear plastic bag and pulled out a handful, tossing a few pieces into my mouth. “See. It’s good.”

  Gavin gave her a doubtful look but still reached into the bag and pulled out a solitary piece of popcorn. Holding it under his nose, he sniffed. “It smells sweet?”

  “It is sweet. You’d know if you would just eat some.”

  “Fine.” Scrunching up his face and shutting his eyes, he put the popcorn in his mouth and slowly chewed.

  “Well?”

  He opened his eyes. “It’s acceptable.”

  “Acceptable?” I scoffed. “It’s delicious.” I grabbed another handful out of the bag just to prove my point and ate it.

  He smiled.

  It was a small smile, and if I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I would have missed it. And it didn’t go unnoticed to me that when he thought I wasn’t looking, his hand snaked inside the bag again. Turning his head, he ate a few more pieces.

  I stifled a laugh. He looked so darn cute.

  Not surprisingly, by the time we got to the hotel the popcorn was pretty much gone. Not from me, but from Gavin. I found out very quickly, as I already knew from playing cards with him for candy, that if Gavin liked something, he was a bit stingy.

  He took a drink of cider straight from the container, swiped his hand over his mouth, and then lowered it back down. “This taste like apples.” He shook the jug and watched the brown liquid swirl in the bottom.

  “It is made from apples.”

  He widened his eyes, seemingly shocked by such a thing.

  This time I did laugh out loud.

  I couldn’t help it.

  “Och, what do ye find so amusing, lass?”

  “You.” I kept right on laughing.

  Gavin frowned.

  I laughed even harder.

  Suddenly everything seemed laughable. Our current predicament—Gavin wanting to go back to his time without me and especially the fact that he still hadn’t told me that he loved me. Now that was the funniest thing of all.

  After I had nearly peed my pants laughing hysterically, I realized the reason wasn’t necessarily about my situation at all, well, I amended, some of it was, but it was mostly because I had bought hard cider and I was feeling a (Gavin’s word) ‘wee’ bit drunk.

  Stumbling up the steps to the room, I felt the full effects of my drinking foray hit me like a ton of bricks.

  “Och, lass, can ye walk?” Gavin asked, pushing her forward when she started to fall backward.

  “Pissh-possh,” I slurred, swaying towards the room. “I am walking.” I lifted my foot too high in the air and slammed it back down on the stair like I was marching.

  “Lass, are ye drunk?” Gavin grabbed her arm to keep her upright.

  Hiccupping, I swayed in the other direction. “Maaaybeee.”

  Struggling with the key-card, I finally unlocked the door. Pushing through the opening into the room, I propelled myself to the bed. Falling face first on top of the mattress, I closed my eyes and promptly passed out.

  ♦

  Gavin shut the door to the hotel room and locked it. Setting their bags on the floor, he went to check on his lass. She was lying face down on the bed and she was making some strange noises. He pulled off her shoes and covered her up with a blanket from the bottom of the bed.

  He watched her for a moment as she slept. Och, he thought, he was surely going ta miss her when he went back ta his time. And even though he didn’t say as much out loud, he cared for her deeply, mayhap he even loved her more so than he did Jillian but he was afraid to admit such a thing ta her or ta himself. It wouldn’t be fair ta the lass, or the memory he had tucked away inside his heart of Jillian.

  Rubbing his chest over his aforementioned heart, he turned away from her and walked across the room. Sitting down heavily into one of the high-backed cushioned chairs, he leaned his head back and propped his feet on the stool in front of him. Closing his eyes, he let his memories take hold once more…

  MEMORY

  Greystone Castle, Loch Morar

  “Let go of me! You, you, heathen,” the crystal-eyed redhead screamed.

  “Och, Laird…” Callum looked over at Gavin with something akin to horror as he struggled to keep hold of the wild woman in his arms. “She will no settle down.”

  “Take her ta my chambers and lock her inside.”

  “By myself?” Callum’s eyes widened.
/>   “Do ye see someone else, Callum?”

  “Can ye get Muir ta help, she’s…OW!” Callum bent over, trying to catch his breath and hold onto the young woman at the same time. “Ye kicked me.”

  “If you don’t let me go, I will do more than that.”

  Callum gave Gavin a pleading look. “She is full of spit and vinegar, this one."

  “Aye, I can see that she is, Callum,” Gavin said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Best get her up the stairs before she makes good on her threat, aye?”

  Callum grumbled something under his breath as he wrapped his arms around her waist as tight as he could and lifted her in the air. Her feet thrashed back and forth, connecting with his shin. “Och, stop kicking me.”

  “Let me go!”

  “I can no do that.” He hoisted her up and part dragged, part carried her up the stairs.

  “I don’t envy ye trying ta tame that one, my Laird,” Morgan commented offhandedly.

  “Let me take her up the stairs, my Laird,” Broderick suggested. “I will tame her.”

  Gavin cut his eyes towards Broderick. Even though he was several feet away he could see a fever burning in his dark eyes and how his breath came and went in rushed pants as he watched Callum carry the lass up the stairs.

  “Nay, Broderick. I thank ye for the offer but Callum is doing a fine job.” There was no way Gavin would let Broderick in the room with the lass because there was no telling what he might do. He had seen how Broderick behaved with one women folk at the tavern and it still made his stomach turn when he thought of the vile things he did ta the poor lass.

  Broderick tensed and fisted his hands at his sides. “O’ course my Laird,” he scathed the last. “If ye change yer mind, I will tend ta her and see that she gets in line for ye.” And with that, he turned and stormed out of the hall.

  “If ye want ta keep the lass in one piece, ye better keep a close eye on her with the likes of Broderick around,” Morgan commented.

  “Aye, I know,” Gavin admitted. “Why do ye think I had Callum put her in my chambers.”

  “I’ll admit, I don’t envy ye that task, Laird,” Morgan continued as Callum howled out an expletive from above.

  “I tend ta agree with ye, Morgan. I don’t much care ta want ta deal with the lass, myself.”

  Morgan chuckled as he turned and walked away.

  Gavin stood there for a few more minutes listening to Callum howl and the lass scream. It made gooseflesh rise on his skin. Nay, Gavin wasn’t looking forward ta dealing with that wild lass. Not one bit.

  ♦

  It took several attempts over the span of three days ta get the lass ta settle down enough to even have a conversation with her or to be able to enter his room without having something thrown at his head. When she did finally let him in his room again she was still a mite put out and said as much ta him.

  “Why won’t you let me go?” She was weak with hunger, he could see that.

  “I can no let ye go.”

  “I don’t understand, why not.” She paced the room and then sat on the trunk at the end of his bed.

  When she looked at him with those light blue crystal eyes of hers, his belly flipped over on itself. She was the most beautiful lass he had ever laid eyes on. Her voice was raspy, sexy, and her dark lashes were in striking contrast to the paleness of her skin and accentuated her eyes beautifully.

  “What is yer name, lass?” He asked, leaning back against the rough wooden door. He didn’t dare come any closer because she had a habit of pulling something from under her gown and trying ta bludgeon him in his head if he came too close.

  “What difference does it make?” she yelled, fisting her hand on her skirt. “You won’t let me go.”

  She was even lovelier when she was angry, Gavin thought ruefully. “I thought we could have a bit o’ conversation.”

  “What for?”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  She sighed and released something that she was holding in the folds of her gown.

  To Gavin’s surprise, one of his dirks clattered to the ground at her feet. He had no idea how she had gotten hold of it.

  “Oh, just take it,” she said, masking her face with a look of innocence.

  Gavin was tempted to reach down and pick it up but he didn’t trust her. He had a feeling if he stepped forward to retrieve his dirk she would have something else to beat him with before he stood back up. “Makes no never mind ta me, lass.”

  Her eyes showed her surprise and then she smiled. When she did, he thought his heart might just stop.

  “You don’t trust me, do you?” She settled back on the trunk and lifted her feet up off the floor, tucking them under her gown.

  “Trust is a strong word, lass. I don’t give it out freely, ye would have ta earn it.”

  She seemed to ponder this and then smiled again. “You aren’t like the other men,” she commented.

  “Nay lass, I do no suppose that I am.”

  “But you are the Laird, here, correct?”

  “Aye. That I am,” he admitted, feeling a swell of pride that she called him such.

  “My name is Jillian,” she said finally.

  “Jillian,” he repeated, liking the way her name felt on his tongue as he said it.

  “What shall I endeavor to call you, other than Laird, of course?”

  “Ye may call me, Laird.”

  She laughed then.

  Not a simple little laugh, but a full robust one, that made her face turn red and her body shake.

  Gavin wasn’t sure what was so funny but for some reason he found humor in her laughter as well, and to his surprise, he started laughing right along with her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  HIGHLAND GAMES, WEST VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  The sound of a people roaming outside the door to their hotel room brought his mind back to the present. He sat up and swiped his hand across his face. Still smiling from the memory, he got up and walked across the room to get a bottle of water from the ‘snack bag’ on the floor. He pulled out a bottle and twisted the lid, taking a sip.

  It had a funny taste ta it, but at least it quenched his thirst. Putting back on the lid, he set the bottle down on the glass table and went ta check on his lass, Paige.

  She was now curled up in a ball, hugging a pillow to her stomach. Each time she inhaled, she made a little snorting noise. Her brownish-honeyed colored hair fell over the side of her shoulder in a long waving mass of curls.

  Reaching forward, he brushed the strands back away from her face, and leaning over, he placed the gentlest of kisses on top of her head.

  Standing back up, he stretched, and crossed the room, settling back into the cushions of the high-backed chair once more, he resumed his earlier position. Closing his eyes once more, he let him mind drift back to the past…

  MEMORY

  Greystone Castle, Gavin’s Bedchamber

  “Och, lass, slow down,” he panted, gripping her hips as she bucked against him. Her pale, heart-shaped buttocks pressed back against him as he entered her fully once more.

  “Faster…harder…” she begged, thrashing wildly against him.

  Slicked with sweat, Gavin did her bidding. He had to do what she wanted…if he stopped, he knew she would surely lose her mind. She reminded him of a wild animal. Her nails dug into the backs of his thighs and his buttocks. Clenching, he thrust forward again.

  “Yes,” she gasped, tightening around his length like a vice. “Don’t stop.”

  He tried to turn her over, to slow her down…

  “Stop!” She batted his hands away.

  Frustrated, he thrust forward again—harder this time.

  “Touch me here.” She grabbed his hands and covered her breast with them.

  Gavin obliged, gently cupping each.

  “Not like that!” she screamed. “Squeeze them…hard…” she gritted, flailing her head back and forth.

  Using his thumb and forefinger, h
e squeezed her nipples, hard, just like she wanted, and in doing so caused another stream of expletives to flow from her mouth.

  She had the strangest vocabulary he had ever heard. And that was saying something since his father had traveled across many continents in his life. And even though Greystone was his father’s birthright, he wanted to stay away. Telling Gavin that Greystone was cursed.

  But Gavin disagreed.

  Greystone Castle was his home, the place where his mother had given birth ta him and his brother—the one sibling he had, a twin, but he did not live long enough for Gavin ta even know him. Greystone Castle and the surrounding land including Loch Morar, was his birthright, even if it was cursed. Which he highly doubted—or he did, until everyone he had ever loved, died.

  His mother was the first to go, from a mysterious fever that lasted for days. Not long after that, his father followed her to grave by his own hand. They said he lost his wits.

  Gavin didn’t know what had happened, he was too young at the time to digest the whole of what had taken place or make sense of it. Even now, that he was older, he still could not make heads or tails of what had transpired on those dark days.

  Morgan was his Father’s second in command and had taken care of Gavin after that. He raised him, and trained him to be the man the he was today.

  Jillian screamed out another expletive. “Damn you,” she seethed, scratching and clawing her nails deeply into his skin.

  Gavin flinched from the intense pain. He grabbed her hair, wrapped it around his hand, and pulled her head back. “Lass,” he murmured against her ear as his body tensed.