A Christmas Spirit

by Cindy Miles

  It made him want her even more.

  “Yes,” she said, and rubbed her arms. “I’m ready for the dungeon now.”

  With a nod, Gabriel led the way. At the door, they both stopped, and he looked down at her.

  A somber look filled her eyes.

  “Just so you know, lass,” he said, just before disappearing through the wood. “I didna want to stop.”

  As he faded through the door, he saw Paige MacDonald’s eyes widen.

  That was answer enough for him.

  And for some reason, it made his heart lighter than it’d been in centuries—mayhap in his entire life.

  Paige stared at the empty spot Gabriel Munro had just occupied. Unconsciously, she lifted her fingertips to her lips.

  How had the spirit of a man gained access to her heart so fast? She’d all but broken the wooden seat she’d gripped so tightly. He’d awakened a searing passion inside her that she knew had never even been touched before. A man who couldn’t even actually feel, had no physical substance, had made her shake with need. She shook even now, thinking of it.

  She could only imagine how intensely passionate he’d be, were he alive. How would those big hands feel against her skin?

  That brought on an entirely new shuddering.

  Paige turned the door handle and stepped into the darkened staircase. Gabriel was there, grinning. Waiting.

  With a shake of her head, Paige followed the sexy spirit down to the great hall. Every other step, he’d turned his head to glance at her, making sure she held tightly on to the rope, she imagined.

  Or to make sure she followed at all.

  One thing Paige knew, and the thought stunned her every time it crossed her mind. Which, in fact, was all the time.

  It wasn’t Gabriel’s sexiness, or his boldness in unusual but highly erotic kissing, or the passion he awakened inside her that made her thoughts return to him constantly. It wasn’t her insanely acute attraction. Not at all.

  It was something way deeper than that. Something she felt clear to her soul.

  Chapter Eight

  “It will be the Yuletide in two days,” said Gabriel. He picked at his plaid, but didn’t look at her. “What did you wish for this past Yule eve?”

  They sat in the great hall on a long, plush sofa before the roaring fire Gabriel had helped Paige make. While she’d physically made it, Gabriel had instructed her how, step by step. It was a good fire, she thought, casting toasty warmth to the cavernous room.

  She glanced at him, and she wondered if the intensity of his green eyes would ever stop making her feel light-headed. “Wish for?”

  “Aye, wish for.” He cocked his head and scrubbed his jaw. “Dunna you wish for things on the Yule Eve, then?”

  Paige thought. “No, I never have. You?”

  A soft chuckle escaped him. “Nay, I ceased wishin’ centuries ago.” He lowered his head and stared at her. “What were you doin’ last Eve?”

  Paige shrugged. “I worked until closing. Then I finished a project I’d been working on.”

  “Then?” Gabriel lifted his big hand close to hers, and with a long finger traced the outline of her knuckles.

  “I drove home, ordered Chinese, and watched TV until I fell asleep on the sofa.” The thought, spoken aloud, sounded even worse than when she’d actually experienced it. She turned her face toward Gabriel and gave a slight grin. “Pathetic, huh?”

  The thought made her want to cry.

  He looked at her, searched her face, his eyes seemingly caressing each feature. “No’ nearly as pathetic as watching another family’s Yuletide whilst invisible and wishing mightily to be a part o’ it.” His hand rose to her face, and that same strong finger slid along her jaw, making it tingle. He moved closer. “And so tell me, Paige MacDonald. What is it you wish for this Yule Eve, then?”

  Only one thing came to mind as she stared long and hard at Gabriel Munro’s dark brows, square jaw, and astounding green eyes. Just one thing would make her entire life complete. The fact that she knew, deep in her soul, after only knowing the ghost of a twelfth-century Scottish warrior for such a short period of time that she might actually have feelings for him stunned her beyond words. So instead, she thought that one wish.

  His life. She wished for Gabriel’s life back.

  But that could never happen. He’d died: murdered centuries ago. All that remained was his soul, his spirit, and for that she was more than grateful.

  Lifting a hand, she covered his and sighed. “I’d be selfish if I wished for anything more than what I have right now,” she said. Her own words shocked her; never before had she felt so free, so confident, so not shy. “I’m spending Christmas in a beautiful castle in the breathtaking Highlands of Scotland with an even more breathtaking man.” She boldly searched his eyes. “I’ve never felt so lucky in all my life.”

  Gabriel’s ghostly insides all but shook. Had he a live heart beating inside his flimsy existence, it surely would have melted at the lass’s words. He could do little more than gape at her, and use every ounce of strength not to try and kiss her, in truth. He’d no’ be able to stay within her physical boundaries now if he tried. So soft and heartfelt were her words, he didna wish to change her mood by asking more of her.

  By asking her to stay with him always.

  Never had he felt so powerfully for a mortal as he did Paige MacDonald. He’d grown fond of Craigmire and his family over the years since they’d taken over Gorloch, but no one else. No one, save Paige.

  And it scared the bloody hell out of him.

  He looked at her now, with her shorn fair hair, bright blue eyes, and purple-black half-m oons beneath them. She smiled at him, and it made his heart shudder even more.

  You’ve fallen for her, fool, he told himself silently. Now what in bloody hell are you goin’ to do about it? You, a ghosty, and her, a beautiful mortal. What do you have to offer her?

  “I know something else I’d love,” Paige said suddenly, interrupting Gabriel from his dark reverie. She quickly rose from the sofa and moved to stand directly before the blazing hearth.

  He looked at her. She was saving him, he warranted. She could tell he tussled with his words. Mayhap she even thought him no’ to want her round, or worse—that he’d no’ fancied her confession.

  How very far from the truth that was.

  Gabriel followed her and stood behind her. “And what is that?” he said.

  “A Christmas tree,” she said. She held her hands before the fire and rubbed them together. She didna turn round to face him. “Do you think we could find one?”

  Paige MacDonald enchanted him, yet he couldna tell her. Although he felt a deep connection, he didna wish to frighten her away by tellin’ her such. He barely understood it himself. He’d wait, just a bit longer, and see how events turned.

  “Aye,” he said, whispering in her ear. “We indeed can find one.”

  She turned and gave him a smile, and it made his puir knees wobbly. “Do you think the snow has slowed enough for me to go outside and chop one down?”

  Gabriel studied Paige’s eager face, and smiled in return. “Nay, lass. No need for you to chop anything down”—he inclined his head—“no’ that you could swing an ax against a mighty Scots pine with those wee arms o’ yours.”

  She scowled, and he laughed.

  “Follow me,” he said, and inclined his head again, this time toward the front door. “Let’s see just how fierce the storm blows. If no’ too badly, we’ll venture outside and you can show me what sort o’ tree you like.”

  One fair brow lifted in question. “What are you up to?” she asked, grinning.

  “Och, lass,” he said. “You shall see.”

  Together they made their way across the candlelit hall and to the front entrance. When Paige stopped at the front door, hand grasping the handle, he gave an encouraging nod.

  Ever so gently, she cracked open the door and peeked out.

  Then she opened the door wider and turned, smiling.
“Still snowing, but not as hard,” she said, excitement making her pitch higher. Her eyes begged him. “Let’s go. Please?”

  Gabriel fought back a full-throated laugh. He gave a short nod to the cloak closet. “Get that woolly o’ Craigmire’s first and put it on. His Wellies are in there, as well. Pull them on over your own boots. And go where I say, aye?”

  “Aye,” she said, already in the closet. She stepped out pulling on Craigmire’s wool cloak. It swallowed her wee frame. Then she pulled on Craigmire’s boots. “I’m ready.”

  Gabriel grinned and shook his head. “Out the door wi’ you, then. And mind where you walk, gel. No more falls, aye? And we’ll no’ go far. ’Tis still too bloody cold out here for you to be traipsin’ about too far.”

  She turned and smiled. “Don’t worry. This time I’m not running for my life.”

  They walked side by side to the edge of the wood in the slow-falling snow. Drifts were piled up waist-h igh in some spots, and Gabriel guided Paige down the covered lane. She stayed just where he told her, thank the saints, until they reached the tall pines and firs. He kept stealing glances at Paige, whose woolen hood from Craigmire’s cloak now had a frosting of white atop it. Her wee face peeked out from within.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” she said, and then drew a deep breath. “It smells so clean here. Sweet.” She glanced at him. “I love everything about it.”

  The words I love everythin’ about you were on his lips, but he stopped them from fallin’ out. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the lass off.

  “I’m verra glad, then,” he said instead. “So what tree do you fancy?”

  They followed the slight trail into the wood, where the snow had fought to enter and only vaguely managed. He watched Paige look about, and when her eyes lit upon the verra tree she fancied, he could tell; she all but hopped about like a bairn.

  “That one,” she said, pointing to a tall fir. “Gosh, it’s lovely.” She turned her head and looked up at him. “There’s no way I’d cut something that beautiful down, even if my arms weren’t so wee.”

  Gabriel leaned closer, dragging his knuckles as close to the line of her jaw as he could. Gently, he traced her lower lip with his thumb. “You need no’ worry, Paige MacDonald,” he said quietly. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed, and her eyes widened as they stared into his. “You’re going to kiss me again?”

  Studying every inch of her face, he met her gaze. “Aye, I am.”

  And, he did.

  Paige’s eyes softened as he lowered his mouth to hers, and the sigh she released when their essence melded once again nearly made him groan out loud. In his mind he had substance, could feel the soft plush skin of her lips, could imagine shoving his fingers through her hair and gripping tightly the back of her neck to hold her in just the right position whilst he kissed her senseless. As he softly tasted her he imagined her body beneath his palms, the feel of her breasts in his hands, and just what it would feel like to have Paige’s hands on him.

  Then, he did groan out loud.

  And in the next second, he fell straight through her.

  Paige gasped as Gabriel righted himself. He froze, his back to her now, and cursed in his ancient tongue.

  A giggle erupted behind him.

  Slowly, he turned round, only to find Paige MacDonald with a hand slapped over her mouth. But her eyes danced merrily, and Gabriel simply stared.

  “Oops,” she said behind her cupped hand, her voice muffled, her little blackened eyes crinkling in the corners. “Sorry.”

  Gabriel couldna have helped his grin, even if he’d tried. Which, he didna.

  In one step he was before her, so close their bodies were nearly one. “Take your hand away.”

  Paige’s eyes widened as she did as he asked.

  Then Gabriel lowered his head more and kissed her slowly. When Paige released a sigh, he moved his mouth to her ear. “We’ll finish this tonight,” he said in a whisper. “For now, let’s get you back inside before you freeze.”

  Chapter Nine

  The moment they stepped inside the great hall, the lights flick ered on. Almost a disappointment, Paige thought. She liked the ambience of the candles in such a dark, medieval place.liked

  “You can douse them if it pleases you,” Gabriel said.

  She looked at him. “How did you know I was thinking that same thing?”

  He shrugged, and grinned, dimples pitting both cheeks. “I sort of hoped, I suppose. ’Tis what I prefer, too.”

  Paige glanced up at the wooden rafters, with the enormous stag antler chandeliers on opposite sides of the hall now ablaze. “Do you think the electricity will stay on now?” she asked.

  “Aye, I imagine so.” Gabriel stood with legs braced wide, eyes at first glued to the floor. Then they lifted and stared directly at her. “I imagine the phone lines are workin’ as well, if you fancy callin’ for a cabbie?”

  Paige’s heart leapt. “Do you want me to?”

  Gabriel studied her face, and she all but squirmed from the scrutiny of it. Something else laced his features, though, and Paige could have sworn it was uncertainty. “I dunna wish for you to do anythin’ you dunna want to do, Paige MacDonald.” He grazed her jaw with one finger. “And I dunna wish to sound as selfish as I truly am, but aye—I want nothin’ more than for you to stay, despite the power returning.” He moved closer still. “Will you still spend the Yuletide with me?”

  Paige swallowed past the lump lodged in her throat and stared right back. She couldn’t have torn her gaze from Gabriel’s, even if she’d tried. “I would love nothing more,” she said, her voice soft, even to her own ears.

  A visible sigh of relief escaped Gabriel’s sensual lips, and the smile he gave her made her insides turn to mush. “Thank you,” he simply said.

  Paige didn’t even know what to say to that. Nothing at all came to mind to suffice just how grateful she truly was.

  Paige drew a deep breath. “I’m going to go have a fast shower, just in case the power decides to go out again,” she said, and made for the stairs. At the first step, she turned. Gabriel hadn’t moved an inch. He stood there, staring. No smile, but the muscle in his jaw moved.

  His green eyes darkened as he watched her.

  Paige cleared her throat. “I’ll be right back.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. She took off up the stairs.

  Behind her, a deep, low chuckle sounded until she reached her room and shut the door.

  Quickly, Paige chose her favorite pair of faded boot-cut jeans and a long-sleeved garnet cashmere sweater, and she laid them across the bed while she showered. Standing beneath the hot stream, she closed her eyes and let the water fall over her until the bathroom filled with haze. The soap smelled of lavender and vanilla, as did the shampoo, and both created a calm she hadn’t experienced in, well, never.

  Or was it the fact that the spirit of a nine-hundred-year-old Highlander awaited her in the great hall?

  Paige thought perhaps it was the latter.

  Only when the water began to run cool did she finish up. Wrapping her hair in one towel, she draped the other over herself, brushed her teeth, and inspected her face. Gently, she touched the sensitive purple-a nd-black skin beneath her eyes and eyelids, her slightly swollen forehead and the narrow strips of tape across the bridge of her nose. At least her nose wasn’t crooked. How on earth could Gabriel think for a second she was attractive? Before the broken nose, she was plain. Now? Plain, broken and bruised.

  He didn’t seem to mind so much.

  With a shrug, Paige decided not to ask herself any more unanswerable questions. She dried her hair, didn’t bother with makeup at all since she already sported a nice shade of purple on her eyes, and dressed. Pulling on her boots, she eased out of the room.

  And nearly ran straight through Gabriel.

  He had waited in the corridor, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his bulky chest.

  Grinning.r />
  Well, at first grinning. His eyes took on a decidedly darker tone once he inspected her closely. His gaze started at the top of her head, traveled slowly down to her booted feet, then even slower back up until their eyes met and locked.

  Gabriel nearly tripped over his own booted feet as he straightened. He quickly imagined his stupid self, legs sprawled and plaid bunched up round his waist.

  Paige MacDonald was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. After so many lonely years of stalking the halls of Gorloch, how had he become so bloody lucky as to encounter such a lass? No’ only that, but gain her trust in such a short amount o’ time? They got along as though they’d known one another for the whole of their lives. As if they were a perfect fit.

  ’Twas beyond his reasoning.

  He’d thank the saints daily for his good fortune for the remaining of his existence.

  “You scared me,” Paige said, although mirth laced her alluring voice. “I thought you were downstairs waiting on me.”

  Gabriel smiled and drew closer. “I found I couldna wait any longer.” He studied her. “Christ, you’re fetchin’, Paige MacDonald.”

  He then thoroughly enjoyed watching her neck and cheeks turn the same color as her jumper.

  “I’ve got two big black eyes,” she said quietly, batting her lashes. “I look like a raccoon.”

  “And a fine raccoon you are,” he said. He inclined his head. “I’ve a surprise for you, and once we reach the end of the passageway, I want you to close your eyes.”

  Her pixie nose, now bandaged at the bridge, crinkled. “What have you been up to while I was showering?”

  He lowered his head to her ear. “You shall see,” he whispered, and could have sworn he smelled the sweet scent of lavender.

  “I cannot wait,” she answered.

  Together they walked the length of the candlelit corridor.

  A few yards from the end, Gabriel brought Paige up short. “Here’s far enough, lass. Now, do exactly as I say, aye?”

  She looked at him and nodded.

  “And close your lovely eyes,” he whispered against her ear.