by Foxx, Nia K.
“What the hell did you just say?” Vicki asked.
“I don’t…” she trailed off. The words hadn’t come from her, not really. Sure, her mouth made the movements and her vocal chords may have provided the sounds but she felt more like a conduit, definitely not the source. Yet somehow the meaning was as clear to her as if it were written in plain English.
“It says, ‘In this time and space, bring my consort to this place, to unlock the secret within me and walk with through the rest of my life’s journey’.”
“How beautiful,” Naz sighed. “So it’s some kind of book of poetry?”
“I don’t think so,” Sierra answered truthfully. As she completed her thought a thunderous rumble filled the room. Everything went black.
“I have emergency candles in my bag,” Vicki announced to the now silent room.
“Was that an earthquake?” Sierra asked, feeling the aftereffects in her bones.
“Not unless California just fell out from under us. The San Andreas Fault doesn’t reach to Oregon,” Naz assured them.
There was a flicker before the room was encased in the soft white glow of lights again.
“Probably some nearby transformer going out…” Sierra’s train of thought vanished as she watched one large hulk of a man step from the entry hall into her living room. “Oh… my… God!”
Casey was the next to see him, then Naz. Vicki twisted in her own chair to see what her friends were gawking at then and gasped.
Good Lord, the man’s head was only a foot away from touching her ceiling. Thick blond hair flowed just beyond his shoulders and he stared back at Sierra with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He looked rough, or as her romance books would say, untamed. Broad shoulders jutted out, flowing into thick arms and biceps. Tattoos swirled around each thick forearm.
Was he wearing a kilt?
“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” Sierra finally found her voice. Well, not quite her voice, more like Minnie Mouse’s but it would do for now.
“I am Giric MacDumnall and I have come for ye.” His gaze was unwavering as he pinned Sierra to the spot with his blue eyed stare.
“Me?”
“Aye. I will have your name, lass.”
“My name?” Sierra repeated, trying to digest his request.
“Ye have the eyes of an intelligent woman. Please dunna tell me ye are daft.” He looked genuinely concerned.
“My name is Sierra.” She wasn’t sure why she gave the information up. Did he say daft? Stupid? No, this man hadn’t just broken into her house and called her stupid. “And my husband is a cop who’ll be home any minute. So if I were you I’d high-tail my kilt-wearing butt out of here and back to wherever it is you came from,” she added.
His eyes narrowed, setting off warning sirens in her head. Maybe she should have tried a more gentle method of persuasion. For all she knew the man could be some deranged wacko and the mere mention of law enforcement was the catalyst needed to set him off.
“I ken you must no’ have a husband because I have been sent as your consort. Where can I find this Cop?”
Oh brother, he was loony. Probably imagined himself to be some old world Scottish lord. No… warrior, judging from his physique and tattoos.
“He’s early,” Vicki blurted out, shifting completely in her chair to get a better view of the stranger.
“I thought you requested a fireman,” Casey didn’t bother to whisper.
“Oh please. Look at him. Had I known they had him in their arsenal I might have requested his services for myself.”
Sierra listened, perplexed, to her friends exchange. A niggling feeling let her know they knew something about this man’s sudden appearance in her apartment.
“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on around here?” She yelled, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, including the man. He had been temporarily distracted by the animated women but now his hard eyes refocused on her.
Great.
“We got him for you. Surprise!” Vicki beamed, coming abruptly to her feet. “No need to thank us now, but from the looks of him you will in the morning.”
“What?” Sierra stared at her friend in disbelief, trying to grasp her meaning.
“Wow, I’m impressed,” Naz said, following the other two women’s lead by standing and hastily retrieving her items. “I expect the same in seven months.”
“Only if you promise one for me too,” Casey countered.
“Wait, where are you going?” Sierra gasped in panic as her friends grabbed up their bags and slid on discarded shoes.
“Trust me, if I thought you could stomach an audience I’d definitely stay around and watch.” Vicki hoisted her knapsack/purse on her shoulder.
Sierra shot a wary glance to the silent stranger then back to her friends who were attempting to file out of her duplex.
“Excuse us, big guy, but you’re blocking the only exit,” Casey said, patting him on the chest, her hand lingering a moment longer than necessary. With lightning-fast reflexes the man easily encircled her wrist.
“I am only here for my consort,” he said firmly, without raising his voice.
“Of course you are, big fella,” she agreed as he stepped aside to allow them passage.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t too dangerous if he was letting them leave so easily, Sierra thought, springing from the seat she’d seemed glued to moments earlier.
She tried to ignore the steel blue gaze that seemed fixated on her. “I need a word with my girlfriends,” she provided as she attempted to follow in the women’s footsteps.
“I canna permit it, lass.” He blocked the opening cutting her off from her escaping friends.
Behind him she heard the sound of her front door opening. “Happy Birthday,” the women chimed again before closing the door in their wake, leaving her very much alone with the sexiest, fiercest looking man she’d ever seen.
“Okay, you’ve had your joke. I get it, you guys set me up. Well, I’m done playing.” Sierra crossed her arms over her chest.
“I assure you, lass, I am no man to indulge in trivial games. Now tell me where I may find this Cop. If I must settle the matter of whose woman you are, let it be done quick, as the effects of The Void are wearing off me faster than expected.”
“The Who? Wearing what?” She stared at him in confusion. “Okay, I admit, you look good in this whole Scottish getup and the accent is flawless, but tomorrow is officially my birthday and once you leave I think I may start it early with a glass of wine and a good book.”
He didn’t budge, just continued to stare as if absorbing everything about her.
“Look, I’m sure you were well compensated for this gag, but it’s over now. Got it? Now if you’ll just leave…” She attempted her best stern librarian tone, the one that worked on unruly teenagers bent on being as obnoxious as possible. But this was no teenager. The hardness reflected in his ice-blue eyes let her know she’d need something more convincing than firm speech.
Instinctively she took a step back. Her phone and a very heavy African fertility statue were across the room. At the moment she’d give anything to have either in her hand.
“I think not, woman.” One arm reached out, snaking around her slender waist to rein her in.
“Oommph.” The sound escaped at the impact of being forced against his hard body. And good Lord what a body, she thought as hands that had gone up on reflex now registered the solid form underneath them.
“’Tis the last time I will request the whereabouts of this man who claims to be your husband.”
Whereabouts of who? her brain asked, more interested in finding out if he felt this strong all over.
“I don’t have a husband,” she admitted distractedly. How did one go about sneaking a free feel without their subject knowing they were being accosted she wondered.
The pregnant silence which followed had her redirecting her attention from the plaid covering his chest. She ventured a cautious l
ook up at him, finding it difficult given their proximity and his enormous stature.
“You wish to play me false, woman?” His brows furrowed, reminding her of an upset child.
Lord, why did his hybridized speech have to sound so adorable? She suppressed a chuckle at her description of him, doubting anyone would ever use that adjective and the man in front of her in the same breath.
“I just wanted to scare you.” She realized how ridiculous it must sound to someone like him. She had the distinct impression very few things scared him.
He snorted at her comment, his hold loosening just enough to allow her extra breathing space and little else. Time seemed to come to a slow crawl in his arms.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she protested but made no attempt to move when his free hand reached for the carefully secured braids she’d arranged in a neat bun atop her head. Near waist length in the back, the black and gold micros tumbled around her.
“Beautiful.”
She didn’t doubt he meant the comment, especially since he made no attempt to hide the increasingly evident cock stirring against her belly.
Sierra was in a silent state of awe over the prominent erection and her predicament. She resisted the urge to test if the already large outline had reached maximum potential. So distracted was she that the shrill sound of the phone ringing had her practically jumping out of her skin. Giric had a similar reaction. One moment she was being held in his arms, the next she found herself thrust behind him. The large sword was immediately unsheathed and poised for battle. The combination of his fluid action, tall frame and low ceiling brought several chunks of plaster falling around them. Even from her vantage point he looked every bit a warrior.
“What is that accursed noise?” he asked as the phone completed its last cycle before her answering machine picked up.
“You’ve reached Sierra…” the message began, causing the kilt-clad man to tense even more before turning to her in an eerily slow motion.
“’Tis your voice.” It sounded like an accusation. His narrowing eyes had her taking retreating steps. “Are ye a witch?” His brogue became thicker.
“No. A librarian.” If she found his inquiry odd she wasn’t about to question him now, not when he pinned her with a look which left little doubt he knew exactly what to do with that very authentic looking sword. Her mouth went suddenly dry.
“It’s just an answering machine,” she found herself quickly explaining, although she was uncertain why. Sure most people nowadays had voicemail, but she hadn’t seen the financial practicality for the monthly expense. Now she wondered if her frugalness was about to get her a spot on the ten o’clock news. The headline flashed before her eyes: Librarian killed because of her outdated answering machine.
“People leave you a message when you miss their phone call,” she explained further when he maintained his stance.
As if on cue, Vicki’s voice came through, filling her apartment. “Hey. Either you’re really pissed at us, or you’re just very preoccupied at the moment. I hope it’s the latter. Anyway, by the time you get this I’m sure you’ll have figured out your house guest is a true professional who came highly recommended. We hope this is a great kickoff to your birthday weekend.” She heard her other two friends in the background chiming in their encouragement. “Oh, and I expect play-by-play details,” she snickered before ending the call.
“Are they witches?” Giric questioned, not taking his eyes from her.
“Yes,” she answered as the implication of her friend’s words sank in. They hadn’t hired him to play a joke on her. He’d been hired to have sex with her. “But not the evil sort.”
He visibly relaxed. Everything was crystal clear now. He was a professional, from his period costume and speech to his odd reactions.
She was supposed to be seduced by a Highland rogue. Embarrassed heat rose from the very tips of her toes. Did her girls really think she was so pathetic she couldn’t get herself laid if she really wanted to? Her eyes drank in the man who now stood a few feet away. Okay, so maybe she couldn’t have caught the attention of someone like him normally. But dear lord, they’d hired a male prostitute for her, a very expensive one from the looks of him.
“There is no reason for ye to fear me, lass. Witch or nay, ye are still my consort,” he said, propping his massive sword against the wall.
There was that damned word again. He must be using it to mean client, she thought.
“There is much I need to learn about this modern time. Come and show me your wee keep.” His voice sounded gentle as he reached out with one hand, making no further move to advance on her.
She stared at his offering, knowing if she took his hand she would be agreeing to give in to this fantasy world he was creating, one in which she was to be thoroughly ravished by a man from the past. She doubted her friends would get much of a refund on their money even if she refused him, but it would serve them right if she did.
Several locks of hair had fallen over his shoulders and Sierra grudgingly admitted that he was quite sexy. Would it be so wrong to, just this one time, do something completely out of the ordinary, something so totally beyond her? In the morning, her life would return to normal. She’d sleep in, have a late breakfast and just lounge about. That was tomorrow, this was now.
Chapter Four
A good beginning makes a good ending -- English proverb
Her hand felt tiny slipping into his, but everything about him made her feel small and oh so womanly.
“Um… what would you like to see first?” she ventured, playing along with the fantasy he was forming. For the next hour she walked him around her home showing him everything from the kitchen and all its appliances to the bathroom shower. True to character he curiously soaked everything up like a thirteenth century Highlander thrust into the twenty-first century. She giggled when he insisted on trying everything for himself after she gave him the requested demonstration. He took his role completely to heart, she thought, watching him in amazement as he went through the pretense of discovery. He’d diligently asked about the purposes of every “new” thing, nodding his understanding or grunting when her explanation didn’t seem to suffice.
There was just one last thing to show him and her mouth went dry at the idea.
“This,” she began, pushing the door open, “is my bedroom.” He didn’t hesitate as he stepped into the sparsely decorated room before her, nor did he hide his interest in the small room as his eyes landed on her queen-sized bed.
Sierra bit her bottom lip, wondering how in heaven he would fit comfortably in the thing.
“Um… that is an alarm clock.” She pointed out the digital device on a bedside table, wanting to divert his attention. “It’s used for telling time and waking someone up on time in the morning.”
“There is not much else in this room save your wee bed, Sierra.” His baritone voice dropped an octave and she realized it was the first time he’d used her name since his arrival.
“There’s a dresser for storing clothes and other personal items,” she instructed.
“I believe you said it was also the purpose of a closet?” he reminded.
“Yes, but sometimes extra space is needed.”
He nodded, dismissing the topic. “I believe I can learn the rest at a later time, eh, lass?” The look in his eyes made it clear his thoughts had drifted to a discovery of a more personal nature.
Giric moved with quiet ease. Surprising for a man his size, she thought as he circled her slowly stopping to stand behind her. Her heart caught in her throat from the heat radiating off his body. For several long seconds he did nothing at all and Sierra wondered if there was something wrong. He pushed her braids around the front of her body, exposing her neck. She felt his hot breath before the gentle nuzzling of his mouth. His tongue darted out to draw circles on the exposed flesh.
How did he know? she thought. Her legs went weak from the simple action. Giric’s arm snaked around her, acting as an anchor as he pulled h
er into him. He suckled her neck none too gently, eliciting a groan which seemed to start at her core.
“It has been hundreds of years since I’ve lain with a woman. I will try to be gentle,” he murmured into her neck.
Did she want gentle? Hell, she didn’t care so long as she had him.
