Love Beyond Boundaries (A Scottish Time Travel Romance): Book 12 (Morna's Legacy Series)

by Bethany Claire

  His voice carried from his place on the couch. “No, lass. All the food in my kitchen right now is courtesy of Mrs. Jenkins, and she is not much of one for anything of the green variety.”

  Grimacing, I made a mental note to bring him some salad and green juice the next time I came over as I prepped two plates of the greasy, delicious-smelling dish.

  He was such a fool. What had made him ask her to stay? The pressure inside of him to tell her the truth had built for days. How was he supposed to suppress it when she was sitting next to him on the couch, laughing at the stupid jokes on an old sitcom?

  Every few minutes, he glanced at the clock, wishing the minutes away so that ten o’clock would come and she would leave him. How could he both want her there and want her gone so much at the same time?

  “Are you okay?” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts as he registered her confused expression. “You look like you’re in pain. Do you need me to get you some more ibuprofen? You’ve had all you can have of the other stuff today.”

  He had to tell her. He couldn’t stand it a minute more. Each and every time she left after one of their sessions, he spent the rest of the day and night dreaming about her. All of his nonsense about never wanting a relationship again seemed unimportant to him now.

  “I am in pain, lass, but not because of my leg.”

  Her brows furrowed further. “Then what? What’s up?”

  He twisted and reached out to grab her arm, pulling her toward him before he could talk himself out of it—before she had time to react.

  “I know ye said we could never speak of it, but I canna stand it a minute longer, Allanah. I owe ye an apology for how I treated ye. I know ye must be angry, or at the verra least, confused. ’Twas not that I dinna care for ye. ’Twas that I did.” He paused and corrected himself. “I do. And by God, lass, all I’ve thought of doing for the past three months since ye ran out my door is this…”

  Without another thought, he pulled her against him, crushing her lips into a kiss so deep and quick that she didn’t have time to panic and pull away from him.

  Instead, she melted into it, moaning into his mouth as her lips moved against his.

  Chapter 16

  My body responded to the pressure of Ross’ lips against my own long before my brain did. By the time my brain registered what was happening and began to shoot off alarm bells that I needed to pull away from him, my body was already all in.

  Ross pulled away from my lips just long enough to trail his across my jawline and to my ear. Once there, he whispered huskily, sending shivers down my spine. “Ach, lass. That is more like it. I knew ye could kiss if only ye would allow yerself to stop thinking so much for a moment.”

  I couldn’t afford to stop thinking. Not with Ross. It had been difficult enough to do when we were just dating. Now, it was impossible—now, he was my patient.

  “Ross…” My breath was ragged as I moved to place my palm on his chest so I could push him away. “I can’t…I can’t do this.”

  Obediently, he stopped and pulled back from me just enough to measure my expression.

  “Do ye truly want me to stop, lass, or do ye just think that ye should ask me to?”

  I didn’t want him to stop. What I truly wanted to do was to pull down his sweatpants right here on the couch and ride him until we both came.

  I realized as he narrowed his eyes at me that I still hadn’t answered. My mind had drifted way too far into the fantasy of me straddling him.

  “Lass?”

  Taking a ragged breath, I closed my eyes and tried to find some sort of measured calm.

  “First of all, you’re my patient now, Ross. This is impossible because of that. Second, I’m not sure that I do want you anymore. I know you’ve apologized, but that doesn’t make what you did go away. I know that I freaked out on both dates, and that behavior couldn’t have been attractive, but I thought we’d gotten along quite well. Then I just never heard from you again.”

  He frowned, looking sad. I crossed my arms as I awaited his rebuttal.

  “Let me begin with yer first point of contention. I havena paid ye a dime for yer services, lass. Nor have I ever been to yer office. I know that no doctor referred me to ye, and I doona suspect that ye have any sort of patient file on me. In every true sense, I am not yer patient. I am simply a man ye have been kind enough to help at Caleb’s request. So, that point is moot.”

  He paused to give me a wicked smile, clearly pleased with himself.

  “As to yer second point, I canna say I’d blame ye one bit if ye truly doona want anything to do with me. I behaved horribly, and not a day has passed that I havena berated myself for it. Nothing I say can excuse how I handled things. But I would like to explain the best I can, if ye will allow it.”

  He gave me no time to actually tell him whether or not I would allow it before continuing on.

  “I am frightened of how taken I am with ye when I know ye so little. Romance doesna come easily to me. Such potent feelings of wanting have only occurred one other time in my life, and that dinna end well for either of us, lass. My history with caring for those that I love most is poor. I often disappoint those who never disappoint me. I doona wish to do that to ye.

  “I was happy to meet with ye to satisfy Caleb. And though I know ’tis not kind, I would have happily continued to see ye if I knew I could do so without truly falling for ye. But the moment I knew I couldna—the moment I knew that my heart would inevitably be yers if I spent any more time around ye, I knew ’twould be best for ye if I stepped away. Yer quick retreat from my apartment the night we watched the movie simply gave me a good opportunity to do so.”

  He paused long enough to take a deep breath before leaning in a little closer to me.

  “And lass…there was nothing unattractive about yer nervousness each time I tried to kiss ye. In truth, each time ye fled me, I was left hard and yearning for ye.”

  He stopped then and leaned back on the couch, crossing both arms over his chest in a gesture that mimicked my own.

  Flabbergasted, I let the silence hang between us as I processed all that he’d said. It was a damn good explanation. One that had my insides all fluttery and my cheeks flushed. All of my clothes felt too tight, and despite the thickness of my sweater, my nipples had tightened to tiny points at his admission that I’d left him with an untended erection more than once.

  Finally, I decided to ask the one question at the front of my mind. “So, what’s changed, Ross? Are you suddenly so sure that you won’t hurt me? Why kiss me now if you were so certain that you had to stay away before?”

  “Do ye want the truth, lass?”

  I nodded. “Always.”

  “I am certain of nothing, Allanah. I’ve no confidence that I am capable of not hurting those that I care for. And if we return to seeing each other, I know that it willna take long before I care for ye as much as I care for anyone else in my life. All I can promise ye is that I will do all that I can to make better decisions going forward than I have in the past. ’Tis up to ye whether or not ye are willing to risk the damage I may do.”

  I frowned at him. “Are you asking me to risk it? All you did was kiss me, Ross. I haven’t actually heard you ask me to do anything.”

  He smiled, gave me a shrug, and scooted closer to me on the couch. I was pretty sure that sometimes I just baited him with comments or questions that I knew would make him shrug just so I could watch him do it.

  He reached for my hand and I allowed him to take it.

  “Aye, lass. Allow me to take ye out again. Allow me the chance to win ye over. Will ye do so?”

  While probably unwise, I wanted him. I’d wanted him for months, despite the fact that he’d behaved so horrendously. But I wasn’t the sort of person to give anyone third or fourth chances. He needed to know that one more chance was all he was going to get. I didn’t care for baseball. Three strikes was far too many.

  “Fine. I’ll let you take me out again, but we need to be clear abo
ut something before we start this up again, understand?”

  He nodded, a small smile beginning at the corner of his mouth.

  “I like my life, Ross. I’ve worked really hard to create it. I like my job. I like my family. And while I don’t have a lot of friends, I’m close to the ones I do have. I’ve been single for a long time, and I’ve been happy for every minute of it. Do I want someone in my life? Yes. But, I don’t need you. And I don’t need unnecessary drama or heartache in my life. I’m not going to play wishy-washy games. You decide one more time that you don’t want this—I’m out. You screw this up once more—you won’t hear from me again. Got it?”

  He hesitated, and as I watched that hint of a smile disappear and his expression change, my hard-ass resolve softened. He didn’t want to screw this up, I could tell, but he’d been truthful before—he truly didn’t believe that he would be able to prevent it.

  Overcome by empathy, I reached out to grab his hand.

  “Just be honest with me always, and I’m sure we’ll be okay. I’m willing to try my best, if you are. Okay?”

  That seemed to relax him, and he lifted my hand to his mouth as he kissed my knuckles.

  “Aye, lass. I assure ye, I shall try harder at this than I have anything in my life.”

  Chapter 17

  Once I’d agreed to give him another chance, and he’d agreed to try his best not to be a total moron, we spent the next few hours making out like teenagers.

  It was wonderful.

  Happy, and tired—I was rarely up past ten-thirty—I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped inside just after midnight.

  Not surprisingly, my night owl of a sister was still up, watching an old Seinfeld episode on the television. Her head popped up from the other side of the couch as soon as she heard me.

  She gave me one hard look up and down and smiled. “Somebody just broke her code of ethics.”

  I frowned. How could she possibly know that? “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She cocked her head to the side and shook her head. “You’re kidding me, right? Your makeup is smeared to hell, sis. And clearly, this Ross guy has some sort of beard or stubble situation going on because your upper lip and nose are red and chafed from making out.”

  Horrified, I threw my bag down and hurried over to the small mirror I had hanging near the front door.

  She was right. Any trace of lipstick was gone, and my nose was bright red and rough. While Ross didn’t normally have a beard, being so homebound, he’d allowed his facial hair to grow. I’d hardly noticed it while kissing him.

  Eager to justify my behavior, I faced her. “He’s not really a patient. Not officially. I’ve never seen him in my office, and I’ve not billed him.”

  Georgie laughed, waved a dismissive hand, and then waved me toward her. “Sue, I honestly wouldn’t care even if he was ‘officially’ your patient. I’ve always been one to see things much more gray than black and white. There are exceptions to every rule.”

  I was exactly the opposite.

  “Well, there shouldn’t be. And this isn’t an exception. He’s not really my patient.” Feeling rather guilty, I tried to direct the conversation away from me. “Enough about this. How did your evening go? Any chance you’re ready to give me any more info on this mysterious guy you’re seeing?”

  She smiled and then shook her head. “The night was great, but no, there’s nothing to tell you. You know me, Sue. I don’t like to talk about my personal life. And I’m a little hesitant to throw myself into anything after my last relationship.”

  That seemed to be the ongoing theme of the night.

  “Okay. Fine. But you had a good time? He seems like a good guy?”

  She leaned into me and rested her head on my shoulder as she yawned. “I had an amazing time. And yes, I know for a fact that he’s a really good guy. Don’t worry, Sue. I’m not trying to keep you out of the loop. I’m just being cautious. When I think there’s anything worth telling you, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Before Gramps?”

  She laughed and reached for the remote to turn off the television. “Yes. Before Gramps.”

  He woke early, restless and frustrated with himself after a fitful night of sleep. After Allanah left him, his mind churned with worry and regret. She’d felt good in his arms—her lips soft and warm and welcoming, just like he’d known they would be if only she would just allow herself to relax.

  He wanted to be with her, wanted to try to not repeat the same selfish and self-defeating mistakes of his past, but those memories haunted him. The pain he’d caused, the friends he’d abandoned, the mother he hadn’t seen in years—he didn’t deserve happiness even if he could find it.

  Reaching for his crutches, he got out of bed, phone in hand, and hobbled toward his desk in the other room. The corner of his left crutch caught on the doorway and nearly sent him flying onto the floor.

  Cursing, he caught himself as he threw the crutch to the ground, spooking Tink. She yelped and leapt back to keep from being hit by the falling crutch.

  Regret filled him. He loved the wee pup, despite himself. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare her.

  Damn his lack of magic. Not so long ago, an injury like this would’ve been healed in an hour. Such magic would’ve exhausted him for days, but a week in bed compared to months of this madness was nothing.

  How did regular mortals stand their weakness? He would never get used to it.

  Lowering himself to the floor in the hallway outside his bedroom, he reached out toward Tink and called to her.

  “Come here, lass. I’m sorry I scared ye. Ye know that I wouldna hurt ye, aye?”

  Quick to forgive him, Tink bounded toward him, leaping into his arms as if nothing had happened only moments before. She licked the side of his face as he held her close, and tears began to fill his eyes.

  He couldn’t do this. This place—this mindset—was a dark, familiar thing to him, and it never did him any good.

  He needed advice. Someone to keep him from spiraling into a whirlpool of self-hatred that would cause him to ruin a second chance with Allanah before it even truly began.

  Five-thirty was far too early in the morning to call Caleb, but it would be mid-morning in Scotland. Sydney always gave the best advice anyway.

  She didn’t answer.

  He tried again.

  Still nothing.

  With a young baby, and a castle kitchen to run, he didn’t suppose he should be too surprised.

  “Ach, Tink. What would ye tell me if ye could speak?”

  The small pup stopped licking him and looked at him hard, love in her eyes, as another idea occurred to him. There was one other in Scotland known for her advice, and thanks to Sydney, he now had the number to reach her in his phone.

  The old witch had disappointed him the first time he’d sought her help, though now he could see that while she’d not given him what he wanted, her refusal to help him had been necessary. He’d been meaning to speak with her anyway—to try and reassure her that she need harbor no guilt over Beth’s death.

  He scrolled through the short list of contacts in his phone, stopping at the letter ‘M.”

  Morna.

  Tapping her name so that the phone would dial, he crossed his fingers in the hope she would answer.

  “Hello.”

  Startled by the fact that the phone never actually rang before he heard Morna’s voice, Ross fumbled over his response. “Ach, aye, uh, good morning. This is Ross. We have met twice…”

  She interrupted him, laughing. “Aye, lad. I know who ye are. I’ve been waiting for ye to call all morning.”

  That surprised him. “Ye have?”

  “Aye. I still have my magic, remember? I woke with my shoulder bone tingling, and I knew I would hear from ye today.”

  Not having the slightest idea how to interpret the oddity of that, he decided to brush past it.

  “Morna, lass, I feel I should’ve reached o
ut to ye before now. When Sydney came to visit me a few months back, she mentioned that ye felt some guilt over Beth’s death. As someone who used to have magic, please let me assure ye that ye bear no responsibility for what happened to her. Deep down ye know that ’twould have been wrong for ye to intervene, aye?”

  There was a brief silence, and he thought he could hear the slightest hint of a sob on the other end of the phone. When Morna spoke, her voice was broken.

  “Aye. I do. Though I thank ye for saying so. ’Tis only that I often wonder what good ’tis to have the power to change such fates, if ’tis wrong to do so. And I have ignored fate before and saved the life of one whose time ’twas to go, and this lass dinna have wee bairns who depended on her. How can I justify making an exception for her and not Beth?”

  Ross didn’t know that Morna had prevented the fated death of another before, and he couldn’t deny that her admission made him wonder the same thing. While he didn’t know the woman of whom Morna spoke, surely Beth had been just as deserving of life.

  But how could he say such a thing? It would do neither of them any good now. The witch needed comfort as much as he did. The least he could do was give it to her.

  “It does us no good to berate ourselves for past mistakes, lass. Mayhap the fate of the woman ye saved was not to die, but to be saved from death by yer magic. If we believe that fate is as powerful as we say ’tis, then that must be so. And if so, Beth’s fate was to truly die, not to be saved by ye. Ye did nothing wrong. Either way, we canna ever know for sure, and we canna change the past. We can only move forward the best we know how to.”

  He listened to Morna sniffle, and he could imagine her brushing away tears before she spoke.

  “Thank ye, Ross. It means much that ye’ve reached out like this.” She hesitated, and then continued. “But surely that is not all that caused ye to reach for the phone this morn.”