Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two

by Lorraine Beaumont

  “Hi there,” I said cheerily, an icebreaker of sorts, as I situated my bottom on the chair.

  “Give me yer hand, lass.”

  Reluctantly, I stuck out my hand across the table.

  Reaching forward, she grabbed hold.

  A shiver of unease flitted over me. The woman’s hand was cold and clammy; reminding me of a fish, I once touched.

  Slowly she turned over my hand, and used her other hand to flatten out my palm. Her fingers felt just as gross and I had all I could do not to pull my hand away.

  The gypsy woman peered closely down at my palm. “Ye have a split lifeline,” she said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means part o’ yerself is here and the other part is destined ta be someplace else.”

  Out of habit, I looked over my shoulder and smirked at Gavin—it was something I always did when I felt vindicated.

  He frowned.

  That wasn’t the response I expected. Normally, he would smile and tease me. Disheartened with his lack of response, I turned back around in my seat as the woman ran her fingertip over the other lines in my hand.

  “Ye love him, aye?”

  “Yes. I do.” I didn’t see any reason to lie. It’s not like I hadn’t told him that a million times.

  “Even though his heart belongs ta another?” she asked.

  I jerked my hand at that, but she didn’t let go.

  “Yes. I know that as well,” I admitted my worst fear.

  “Lass, it is no like ye think,” Gavin began, feeling a sickening wrenching in his innards.

  “Shush,” the gypsy scolded him. “I am not finished.”

  Everyone in the tent fell silent, including me. And even though I didn’t want to hear anything more about his heart belonging to someone else, I couldn’t stop from wanting to listen to whatever else the woman had to say on the subject.

  “Ye have a piece o’ his heart as well, I see.”

  “I do?” I couldn’t mask my surprise or elation upon hearing that tidbit.

  “Aye, lass, ye do,” he said.

  I tensed. I could feel him moving to stand behind me but was too afraid to turn around.

  “Weel,” she said, finally releasing my hand. “Ye will have ta make a choice.”

  I saw that she wasn’t speaking to me this time, but instead to Gavin.

  I pulled my hands back into my lap and fisted them together in little tight balls to the point my nails were cutting into my palms.

  “What choice might that be?” His voice was hard, unnerving.

  “Ye will have ta decide whether she is worth yer heart or if the other is.”

  “The other one is gone,” he said simply. “Broderick saw ta that.”

  “So say ye.” Her eyes glittered strangely.

  “What are ye speaking of?” Gavin asked.

  “I am saying ye need to choose. But choose wisely,” she warned.

  “Och.” Gavin swiped his hands over his face in aggravation and then dropped them to his sides. “I am tired of these games. Are ye going ta help me leave tonight or no?”

  She settled back in her chair, giving me a hairy eyeballed look and then flicked her eyes back to Gavin.

  “That is up ta ye,” the woman said.

  “Come on, lass,” he said.

  He put his hands on my shoulders.

  I didn’t know whether to move or not. Obviously, I wanted to leave with him but I still needed to hear what his answer was going to be.

  Gavin lifted his hands from her shoulders.

  “I can no choose now.”

  My heart sank at those words. Really? That’s all he could say? What about, ‘I care for this lass more?’

  “Aye, I see ye are in a quandary,” said the gypsy woman. “These mixed feelings of yers are…”

  “Cease yer prattle woman,” Gavin yelled before she could finish. It was of no consequence any way and he didn’t know why the gypsy was pressing the issue.

  The sound of his raised voice sent my nerves on edge more so than they already were.

  Wow.

  Even after all the time I was with him in the past and the present, I never heard him raise his voice, which of course put me in a fouler mood. Where was all that pent-up passion for me? Fine, when we made love I could certainly feel his passion but other than that, we were like an old pair of worn in shoes—comfortable.

  “Do ye still want ta go with him, lass?”

  The sound of the gypsy’s voice cut into my thoughts and I lifted my eyes back to the gypsy woman’s pretty face. “Yes. I do.” I heard Gavin make a grunting sound over my shoulder and even though I wanted to see his face, I didn’t dare look just now.

  “Then ye shall go with him,” said the gypsy woman.

  “I get no say in the matter?” Gavin spoke again, the terseness in his voice palpable.

  “Nay, Highlander, ye do not.”

  “Come, lass.”

  He put his hands back on my shoulders.

  “She can no help me.”

  “I did no say I couldn’t help ye, I said she would have ta go with ye,” the gypsy woman piped in.

  “Makes no never mind ta me. Ye are playing a game and we are no interested.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Lass,” he said, with a tone that bespoke a warning. “She can no help me.”

  “Can you?” I asked looking directly at the gypsy.

  She placed her hands on the table and folded one on top of the other. “I can.”

  “See, “I said, turning in my seat for the first time to look at Gavin. Once I did however, I wished I hadn’t. I plodded onward, “She said she could help.”

  He shook his head. “The risk is too great. I can no take ye back with me.”

  “For God’s sake, I’ve already been there. What’s the big deal?”

  “Ye almost got us killed.”

  “Well, you were the one who thought getting a treasure was more important than staying with me.”

  “Och, lass. I came back for ye, didn’t I?”

  “After I was about to be eaten by the disgusting monster in that damn loch of yours.”

  Gavin threw up his hands and paced the room. “Stubborn wench,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “I can hear you,” I yelled, letting my anger take hold once again. Pushing back from the table, I stood up.

  “Och, I know ye can hear me but ye don’t listen worth a damn.”

  “I don’t listen?” I stomped my foot. “You are the one that has a hearing problem.”

  “I can hear jes fine,” Gavin railed. “Ye speak so loud how could I not.”

  “Well, at least I don’t mumble under my breath like a buffoon.”

  “Ye think I am a buffoon, do ye?” His face hardened.

  “Well, no,” I hedged, thinking I may have went too far by the expression on his face, “but you certainly act like one.”

  “I was only trying ta keep ye alive and that is the thanks I get?”

  “I kept you alive, remember?”

  The Highlander that had been standing silently in the corner looked over to Tilde seated at the table and lifted his brows knowingly.

  Tilde smiled from ear to ear watching the two of them bicker amongst themselves, thinking that she hadn’t had this much fun in a very long time…a very long time, indeed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  Out in the field-The Festival-Present Day

  “Now what?” I asked, pulling my jacket closer against my body, to ward off the chill.

  “We wait,” Gavin said, turning away and leaning back against the tree in the designated area the gypsy had instructed. He crossed his arms and stared out into the darkness. He was still a mite put out with the way the lass had yelled at him in the tent. Granted, he probably deserved most of what she said but it still pricked his ego. And that damnable witch, or gypsy, whatever she was, only added fuel to the flames with her c
ommentary. He barely made it out of the tent in one piece. At least that is the way it seemed to him.

  After he and the lass had gotten into a shouting match at one another, and gearing up for another battle, the gypsy informed them both that the time was nearing to go back, if that was what they intended.

  He didn’t want ta take the lass back but he wasn’t left much choice in the matter because she informed him under no uncertain terms that she was going with him whether he liked it or not.

  And that was the end of that.

  I looked over at Gavin. His face barely visible in the darkness was still an unreadable mask. Fine. Unreadable was a bit mild since I knew he was upset with me, but that was too bad. He would get over it, eventually, or at least I hoped he would.

  After we had bickered for a good half hour the gypsy woman slammed her hands down on the table, which shut us both up rather quickly and informed us that we better get before the mist came.

  The Highlander, the big one, that was even taller than Gavin had lifted the tent flap and showed us the door, so to speak. After he explained where to go, he sent us on our merry, or miserable, way, depending on how one looked at it.

  I was merry.

  Gavin was apparently miserable.

  And for the first fifteen minutes of our departure, I was good with that. Now, however, the longer we stood under this stupid tree in the darkness, I began to wonder why in the hell I wanted so badly to go with Gavin in the first place, especially when he didn’t seem to even want me with him. At odds with myself, my gut said stay while my brain was telling me to go. Irritated at my contrary emotions, I pulled my bag back on my shoulder and walked over in front of him.

  “Gavin,” I said, looking up, the outline of his barely visible face.

  He exhaled. “What do ye want?”

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  “Good.”

  “That’s it!” My temper flared again.

  “What do ye want from me, lass?”

  “I want you to tell me that you are sorry too, and that you want me to go with you.”

  “I am sorry for raising my voice with ye lass, but I can no do the other thing ye want from me.”

  “Why?” A sudden burst of hot tears sprang to my eyes and my throat constricted, making it hard to speak.

  “I’ve already told ye why?”

  “Do you even care about me at all?” I sounded like a croaking frog.

  Gavin could hear how upset she was and it pulled at his heartstrings, making his chest feel tight. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but he also didn’t want her to come back with him because of the deal he made with the witch.

  He just didn’t know how to explain that to her.

  “Aye, I do.”

  “Then why?” I sniffed, trying hard not to cry.

  Gavin knew what he had to say to get her ta leave even if it was not the truth. The problem was, he knew once he said the words, she would hate him. And he wasn’t sure if he could bear that.

  “Och, lass, do not cry.” Unable to stop himself, he reached out, pulled her pliable body tightly against his chest, and held her in his arms. Up and down, he caressed her back with his hand.

  I blubbered into his shirt, letting my tears finally flow freely from my eyes. There was no measuring of time when I was with him, and I tried not to think about him leaving—and especially what I knew I needed to do—which was to let him go. I loved him enough for that. Another old saying from my Grans bubbled up unbidden. “If you love someone, set them free, if they come back they are yours, if not, it was never meant to be…” Stupid saying, get out of my mind, I wanted to scream, but deep down, I knew what I had to do. Pulling back just a bit, I lifted my tear stained face up to his. “I won’t go.”

  The words were like a spear to his heart and his breath caught on itself. “Ye do not want ta go back with me?”

  “Not if you don’t want me too.”

  Gavin closed his eyes and tried to garner the strength he needed and finally said, “It is for the best.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” The tears that I thought had dried up were coming back in full force. I let out a self-deprecating laugh that was more of a sob, sniffing. “God, sorry. I hate crying.”

  “I hate ta see ye cry as well.” And he did. It was twisting his innards ta see her thusly. He pushed her back, setting her away from him. He had too before he changed his mind and begged her to come with him.

  Of course, I had no idea what he was thinking and took him pushing me away as another mortal blow to my already dwindling self-esteem.

  “Safe travels,” I said, trying to sound cheery, unfazed, but ended up choking on the words as another sob escaped my throat.

  Gavin grabbed hold of the tree, digging his fingers into the bark. “Aye, I will endeavor ta try.”

  “Tell Callum, Muir, Graham and Alec, that I said hello and to be…” another sob erupted from my throat, “safe,” I forced out.

  Gavin’s throat constricted as wetness gathered behind his eyes. “Aye, I will.”

  Forcing my leaden feet to move, I took another step away from him. “Don’t forget to eat. You’ll need to keep your strength up.” God, I sounded like an idiot.

  “Aye, I will try ta remember that.” His innards twisted again.

  Stalling for more time, I said, “Hey, do you want to bring my bag with you?”

  “The goodie bag?”

  “Yes. The goodie bag.”

  “Only if ye want ta give it ta me.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to give it to you.”

  “Aye, then, I would appreciate that.”

  Even though it had taken me ten minutes to get ten feet away from him, it only took me seconds to run back to him. I dropped the bag on the ground at his feet and threw my arms around his neck.

  Gavin didn’t expect the intense reaction that he felt once she was against his body again. It was like the wind was knocked from his lungs. He let go of the tree and jerked her body against his.

  “Lass, what ye do ta me,” he half moaned/sighed as he lowered his mouth and kissed her with all the pent-up emotion he was feeling.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  Out in the field -The Festival - Present Day

  It didn’t take long for us both to get back to exactly the same point we always got to when we were together—hot and bothered.

  His hands roamed freely down her back covering the soft curve of her delectable backside as he pressed in closer.

  A moan escaped my lips from the fire of desire pooling between my thighs at his merest touch. Being with Gavin was hot—so hot! How could I ever find someone else to even remotely get me as hot as he did? What would I do when he was gone? Turn into a hermit again? Read books and wish I was the heroine? Even as much as I loved my books, my friends, that kept me company on many a cold night—they were never as fulfilling as the real thing or hot as this, as being with him.

  Those fantasies were short lived but Gavin was real—as real as my love for him. And knowing he would be gone soon, increased the ache for him yearning deep inside.

  As his hands slid down into the back of her jeans, Gavin was thinking much the same thing. He didn’t know what he would do when he was gone from the lass in his arms. She had become more to him than a means to an end. Somehow, she had shoved her way into his heart and taken up residence there and he wasn’t sure he could get her out again or if he even wanted to. Jillian, who he thought was the love of his life, his only love, was now a distant memory, one he didn’t even want to ponder any longer.

  Feeling emboldened by the fact that this was probably going to be our last time together, I dropped one of my hands from his shoulder and slid it down the front of his kilt, reaching underneath until my fingers curled around his jutting erection. The skin, soft, velvety, sprang upward from contact.

  “Och lass,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

  “You like
that?” I nuzzled his neck, nipping playfully with my teeth on his tender flesh as my hand caressed his length.

  “Aye, that I do,” his voice was deep, husky, the passion he was feeling evident in the way he spoke.

  Returning the favor, he pulled out one of his hands from the back of her jeans and slid it down between the juncture of her thighs.

  My body clenched, on the verge of having an explosive orgasm just from the heat of his touch.

  “Ye like that, lass?” He rubbed harder.

  “Yes…,” I nearly yelled, pressing closer to the exquisite torture he was eliciting from me with the merest of touches. A fire was building, hell, it was more of a raging out-of-control wildfire at this point,—I felt like I would explode at any moment.

  Gavin couldn’t define what he was feeling—it was all encompassing. Every nerve, every fiber of his being was sparking with desire. He felt it from the tips of his toes to the top of his head—he was utterly, totally, enraptured by the feelings coursing through his body—and he didn’t want it to end…

  “Take these off, lass,” he said, pulling at her jeans.

  I reached down and quickly unfastened my jeans. In one swift jerk, I pulled them down along with my panties and stepped out of one side. My other foot was caught in the bag strap, but I didn’t even care.

  Gavin grabbed her free leg and lifted it to his side until the tip of his erection pressed against her wetness. “I can no wait,” he said gruffly, fighting the urge to thrust deep inside of her before she was ready.

  “It’s all right,” I told him, holding on.

  “Are ye sure?”

  “Yes!”

  He readjusted, and in one deep push he was inside. “Och, lass,” he moaned in bliss as his mouth captured hers once more.

  Lost in the moment, I let my body take control and forced my mind on only one thing…my love for Gavin. In moments, my orgasm tore through me with shattering force.

  Feeling her pliable body writhing in his arms was his undoing. Two more thrusts and he too, found his own explosive release.

  Gavin held her body in his arms and stroked his hand down her hair for what would surely be the last time as a mixture of his emotions warred within. He wanted to yell out the injustice of it all—how was he going to live without her? Without her smiling face, even her shrewish tongue—oh, how he would miss it all. But what was he to do? Tell her how he felt? But how could he, knowing he would soon be gone from her forever?