Not one for tears, still hot streaks wet his face, wandered into his whiskers. What he felt at that moment he’d never felt before—Sarah must have been the bad discount knock-off of the expensive brand name when it came to love and emotion.
Nuzzling Bryn’s neck, he smiled into her skin, breathed deeply, wanting to imprint every possible scent of the woman. He didn’t want to think it, but he couldn’t deny this was more than just a one night stand. “May I see you tomorrow, lassie?” He willingly accepted her as she burrowed deeper in his hold.
It took her awhile to answer. “Tonight’s not over yet, Ian—let’s not worry about tomorrow.”
Rubbing his head atop hers, pride and happy exhaustion tempered his voice. “I do so want to show you my Scotland, Brynnie.” He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her mouth. “Oidhche mhath,” he said quietly.
With a ready-for-sleep sigh, she answered, “And a good night to you, Ian.”
Chapter Nine
Drawing his cloak closer to his body, Ian watched from the dock as the three-masted craft lurched and dipped. Much too dangerous to attempt any type of launch, still the old salt of a captain could not be talked into remaining in port for another day—he’d waved off the concern of his passengers and their kin on shore, and insisted upon getting underway.
Ian shivered in the stiff wind, unsure if the cold breeze forced his hair to stand at attention on his neck, his trepidation for those on board, or the thought he’d never again see the fair lass he’d bid good-bye to moments before.
Ya accursed bastard! You should have marked her for yourself, given her your ribbon and held her hand in the cool water of the burn last full moon. Ya fool—now she’s gone forever!
She was so beautiful, standing on deck, one hand held tightly to the rail, the other with a linen kerchief dabbing at one eye.
He braced himself on the dock as a terrible north wind pelted him. To keep the sting of the sea salt away, he closed his eyes for just a moment.
In that mere time, a horrendous shriek came from the direction of the harbor.
He peered up just time to see his woman’s hand slipping from the rail, the buck of the wave kicking her into the cold frothing ocean….
“Brynnie!”
The nightmare shocked him awake.
Unconsciously, he gripped the edge of the mattress with one hand and reached over the side to search for Bryn with the other, hoping in some way to save her from the raging storm.
He shot upright in bed, disturbing no one.
“Brynnie,” he called again.
Across from the bed, a Grant print bedeviled him—the lass made her way up the gangplank.
Shite, don’t let’er go again, old man!
Springing from the sheets, he snagged the first item of clothing he saw. When he sprinted down the hall, past a shocked, bathrobed Tavish, he wore his McCallum tartan boxers and nothing else.
“Go get’er, mate! Ya still be havin’ time to make this right!” the old man called after him.
“Wait!”
Through the open Plexiglas between the front and back seats of the English cab, Bryn grabbed the driver’s shoulder. The vehicle came to a gravel-spitting stop just as Ian skidded around the bonnet.
His hands hit her window as she began cranking it down. “Brynnie!”
Mind swirling like the early morning mist, her senses were assaulted—the coolness of the back seat, the scent of lavender from the nearby garden and a strapping, gorgeous Scot in nothing but boxers rapping at her window.
The pane of glass had barely retreated into the door when strong hands thrust through the opening, surrounding her face. A head followed, his mouth locked on hers.
When he released her, he asked, “Where ya goin’, darlin?”
Tears came and she let them. Despite the amazing time with Ian and knowing what the end would bring, still she had to hold back the sobs. “Home, Ian—I’m going home.”
He opened the door and crawled in beside her. “Home?”
Guilt overtook her, and she collapsed in his arms. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. It took almost two weeks for Madame Eve to connect us—I didn’t know it would be my last day in Scotland.”
Lifting her face to gaze into his eyes, he cried along with her.
Her words broke her heart, never had such sadness coursed through her and she understood Grant’s lass as she stood on the dock, awaiting the ship. “I might never see you again, Ian.”
“Miss, we had better be movin’ should you be catchin’ your flight,” the cabbie mentioned quietly from the front seat.
Ian took her hands. “Brynnie, do you believe in fate?”
“Not really, but I think everything happens for a reason—like meeting you.”
When she studied him, his eyes sparkled with possibility. “Don’t ya see, darlin’, we have another chance,” he breathed.
She did and didn’t understand, or maybe just didn’t want to understand the possibility she went to Scotland for more than just a vacation—destiny had sent her.
“Don’t ya see—you came back to me, wee Brynnie.”
Confusion and realization sparred in her head. Where are you going with this, Ian?
“Don’t think me daft, hear me out.” The enthusiasm in his voice could not be faked, and she focused on his eyes and listened. “How is it possible we’re so comfortable with one another in just moments? How did you know exactly how to kiss me—know me so thoroughly that you trusted me in everything we did? How?”
She swallowed hard. This isn’t possible.
“We’ve been here before, darlin’.” He dropped his head slightly. “And we mucked it up.” He stopped for a beat, searching for the right words. “Fate, destiny, kismet, call it what you will, but we are a product of that, Brynnie. You came to Scotland for a reason—so I could find you again.”
“Ian, I….” This is too much to comprehend.
“One thing I didn’t tell you about the paintings—if Grant had only told that lass ‘I love you,’ none of the bad would have happened. She would have stayed, and there would be no legend.”
Frog in a blender came to mind as her thoughts swirled, caught in some unending vortex of bombarding emotions. Clearing her throat, she attempted to center herself, to grab on to the certainty of her existence and not get sucked into the past that she was—dammit—beginning to believe could have actually existed.
“So you’re saying….”
She couldn’t deny the exuberance in his voice. “I’m in love with you, Bryn Wallace, and have been for a very, very long time.”
When his mouth met hers, all confusion dissipated and clarity reigned. Her silly obsession with all things Scottish, the poking deeply into her genealogy, the scrimping and saving to make the trip a reality and, yes, even Don dumping her.
It all happened for a specific reason.
Her life had prepared her for that moment.
“Don’t ya see, Brynnie, we gotta be doin’ this right this time.”
She nodded. “But I’m going home, Ian.”
A knowing smile lit his handsome face. “No, you are home—you’re just going back to the States for a wee bit.” He winked. “You may be leaving, but you’ll always be right here.” He placed her hand securely over his heart. “And, if I know you like I think I do, I’m right here—” he placed an honorable hand on her bosom over her heart— “always.”
The driver again interrupted, “Miss, please, your flight.”
Kissing Ian, she clung to him, his bare skin warm, wanting in her grasp. He loosened her hold and wiped her face free of tears. She touched his in return.
Most tourists would want a photo, some tangible image to take home with them. She didn’t need that trite remembrance.
Ian would be, had been with her, all her life and in all her lives.
No, it was not good-bye.
A final wet smooch, and he crawled from the cab. Closing the door soundly, he thumped on the boot, signaling
the driver.
As the cab slowly moved down the drive, Bryn stuck her head out the window, her voice clear and sure. “I love you, Ian McCallum!”
He called after the vehicle, “I love you, wee Bryn Wallace. Haste ye back, darlin’!”
As she settled in the backseat, her emotions calmed, the inherent emotional and romantic hollow in her life completely sated.
She smiled at her last image of him—the Scot in his boxers, arms out to his side with a happy plea, a light sprinkle sheening his muscles. The sight and his calling after her tickled her deep in her soul.
Haste ye back….
~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~
HASTE YE BACK is Wendy’s third book on the Decadent Publishing shelves. She’s in the process of writing 274 more which she hopes DP will be interested in! Find her on Facebook, Twitter and lurking about the internet. You could send her a nasty [email protected]. When not playing with the people in her head, she has silly life with her way-too-cute chef husband and two furry feline kids in the Great Lakes area of the Midwest.
www.whateverwendy.blogspot.com – www.mvrwa.net
Respite
Fiery and stubborn Madeline Raburn never thought life on her own could be so trying. The daughter of an influential New York businessman, Maddy has always had the best of the best…as long as she abided by her parent’s wishes. When sent to Italy to meet their choice for a potential husband, she enforces a respite from her overbearing family. She thought running away might be the answer, but when she meets Ryan, her situation becomes a little more complicated….
Honorably discharged Sgt. Ryan Davison has traipsed through Europe for three years, compliments of the U.S. Army and the war against the Germans. Now tired and in desperate need of rest, he’s determined to forget the pain and deaths he’s encountered. Landing in a quiet harbor town in Morocco, with its sultry weather and tantalizing views, he believes he’s found a quiet respite from the haunting days of war, until Maddy stumbles into the bar…not looking for trouble or love, but finding both.
Life takes a drastic turn for Ryan and Maddy as their building attraction tempts them into the exotic world around them, but will they have to fight for their passion and love once their past catches up with them?
The One He Chose
A 1Night Stand Story
A year after losing her beloved husband, Grace Witzler learns he left a special surprise for her. A fabulous getaway in the beautiful Canadian Rockies that includes a date with a mystery man arranged through Madame Eve's 1NightStand dating service. She's shocked and intrigued...what was Ben thinking?
Grace's date is charming, handsome and about to find out whether the woman of his dreams will return his affection. He's waited forever, but he's ready to risk it all on a 1NightStand.
1NS 094 - Haste Ye Back - Wendy Burke - Decadent 2012-02 Page 5
