Timeless Mist

by Terisa Wilcox

  "You can put me down anytime."

  Kris interrupted his thoughts as well as his descent into madness.

  "Oh, aye." Iain set her on her feet and backed up a step or two. What had he been about to do? He needed no female entanglements. Saints what a blunder he'd almost made. He cleared his throat and looked around the room, searching for a safe topic. He spied the mess and knew it would be his out.

  "Might I inquire as to this?" He indicated the stuff thrown haphazardly all over the room with a sweep of his hand.

  "I was, umm," Kris turned away before she answered, "looking for something."

  "I can see that." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to turn around. When she did, her face was flushed and Iain couldn't decide if it was from desire or embarrassment.

  "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

  "I said ye've made quite a mess. What is it ye were looking for?"

  "I need my clothes. I can't very well run around like this all day." She spread her hands wide to indicate her dirty shirt.

  "Ye have no clothing here, lass. I will ask Elsbeth to find ye something. Ye most certainly cannae wander about clothed as ye are." He gave her a seductive look, a glimmer of invitation in his eyes. "Nay unless ye wish it to be an invitation to the men."

  "Really?" Kris glanced down self-consciously, then back up to glare at him. "I never would have thought that for myself." She shook her head at the look of confusion her sarcasm evoked. She was frustrated, confused, and more than just a bit scared. She had no idea what was happening to her or why, but that was still no excuse for being rude. "Thank you," she gestured to the chest, "for helping me get out of the chest."

  "'Twas my pleasure," he gave her another beguiling half-smile.

  "I should apologize for throwing your stuff around too. I'm just confused and still not sure what's going on. Still, that's no excuse for making such a mess. I know better than to treat other's things that way. Especially such nice things. They look like heirlooms or something, too. Are they?" Kris knew she was babbling, but couldn't seem to stop herself.

  "Never mind. I'll just get this mess cleaned up." If he gave her another of those come-hither looks, she might just heed it. She was still a bit shaken from being in his arms. He'd evoked sensations she hadn't experienced for some time and she had no desire for a repeat performance. She crossed to the bed and began to refold a blanket. "I'll put it all back the way I found it."

  Iain nodded and let his gaze wander over her one more time before he turned and left the room. He had intended to question her again, but there was no way he would be able to concentrate on anything else until she had some proper clothes on. Clothes that did not show off so much leg she may as well wear nothing at all. He leaned against the wall and ran his fingers through his hair. He had to find out where this lass belonged and return her there as soon as it could be arranged before he did something stupid, like take her to his bed.

  * * *

  Kris heard the door shut with a quiet click and turned to look at the disaster she'd created in her frenzy to find her clothing. With a sigh, she began to clean up. It didn't matter what had happened to her, it was no excuse for making a mess and damaging someone else's belongings. She'd been taught better than that. She could almost hear her grandmother's voice in her ear, "No matter how much you dislike a person, or how angry you are at them, you should always respect another's belongings." This was said after Kris had pulled the head off of one of Aleksa's Barbie dolls.

  It took her a little over an hour to refold everything and return it to the chest. She shook her head, amazed at how much she'd thrown around. Finally finished, she planted both hands on the chest and pushed, using it as leverage to stand, and blew a stray piece of hair away from her eyes.

  She still needed to find her clothes. She didn't want to believe that this entire thing wasn't some elaborate scheme cooked up to entertain the guests. If she found her clothes, that would be the end of it. She determinedly ignored the voice in her head again telling her she wasn't dreaming, that this was really happening. What did the voices in her head know anyway? And who cared if they had been right about most things throughout her life? That didn't mean they were right about this. Did it?

  She pushed those thoughts aside for the moment and looked around the room, her gaze coming to rest on what had to be ancient wardrobe closet that looked to be in remarkable condition. It stood against the far wall where the door to the closet had been yesterday.

  "Ah ha!" She snapped her fingers, strode resolutely over and swung the double doors wide. And stopped. Both hands on the doors, she could only stare, stunned by what she saw.

  The most beautiful gowns she had ever seen hung neatly inside. Every color of the rainbow was represented, from sunshine yellow to navy blue. She reached out a trembling hand to touch one of hunter green velvet trimmed with a bit of cream-colored lace around the low neckline and edges of the sleeves.

  Her eyes and hands roamed over the many silks, satins, and velvets. Never had she seen or imagined such an array of colors and materials. Hailey would have been in Heaven just looking at the selection. Ever the fashion expert, never at a loss for words, even she would have been left speechless by the assortment of such well-preserved gowns.

  Kris herself, who was most contented in jeans and a ratty sweatshirt or comfy t-shirt, could appreciate the delicate beauty displayed before her. She chewed her bottom lip. Now what?

  She opened the large drawer near the bottom to discover undergarments. Chemises of soft lawn, corsets, and stockings made of the finest silk. She shook her head in disbelief. Well, if this was seventeenth century Scotland, and she really was in MacGregor castle, Iain MacGregor was not nearly as poor as the history books made him out to be.

  Kris straightened from her inspection and closed the heavy doors. Where the heck were her clothes? She couldn't wear the gowns in the closet, the ones that hadn't been there yesterday, no matter how much she wished she could.

  With a determined shove she moved away from the wardrobe. Hands on her hips, she stood in the center of the room and turned, letting her eyes take in every detail. Coming full circle, her eyes fell on the wardrobe once again.

  With sudden clarity of thought, it struck her. Duh! That's the wall where the closet door had been yesterday. Perhaps the wardrobe had been placed right in front of the door to hide the other closet from view. Made perfect sense to her.

  She hurried back across the room and eagerly ran her hands along the sides, inspecting every crevice were the wardrobe met the wall. She placed her hands on either side and pushed with every muscle she had, grunting a bit from the effort.

  It wouldn't give an inch. Somehow, this thing had to move. When she uncovered the closet behind it, she would have proof of a scheme. She couldn't wait to see the look on Mr. MacGregor's face when she informed him his little play was over. The jig would definitely be up.

  A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips at the thought. She turned and planted her behind against it, digging her toes into the floor. Wouldn't move. She braced herself again, putting all her weight against the heavy piece, pushing and pulling at the enormous wardrobe to no avail. Dang thing wouldn't budge.

  "What are ye trying to do now, lass?"

  Kris jumped and let out a squeak at the sound of Iain's voice right beside her.

  "I thought you left." Her heart pounded wildly, and her breathing was labored as if she'd just run the Boston marathon. She raised her eyes to find him watching her intently. With a glance at her hands and back to Iain, heat crept into her cheeks. She dropped her hands and met his gaze. She could swear she detected a faint glimmer of humor in the depths of his blue eyes.

  "Aye, I did."

  "But you're back. Why?"

  "I came to inform ye that Elsbeth will be up soon to help ye find more appropriate clothing."

  "Oh, well, thank you."

  "Now, I ask ye again, what are ye doing?"

  "I should think it was obvious. I
'm trying to move this thing, only it's not cooperating."

  "Why?" an arched brow indicated his humor at the situation.

  "Why what?"

  "Why are ye trying to move it?"

  "Maybe because I want to see what's behind it. Isn't that usually why a person moves something?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm. It seemed to be becoming a habit around this guy.

  Hands on her hips, she pulled herself up to her full five feet, three inches. "Look, enough is enough. I want to know what's going on around here right now. I've had enough of this charade, and I don't like being the brunt of a joke." With a lift of her chin, she boldly met his gaze. "I want to speak to Mr. MacGregor this minute." She stamped her foot to emphasize her point, putting as much authority in her voice as she could.

  "I am the MacGregor." Iain gave her a perplexed look, "what is it ye wished to speak to me about?"

  "I have no idea what kind of game you're playing here," Kris moved to stand in front of him, a low growl escaping her, "or who put you up to it, though I've a pretty good idea. I don't know what kind of joke Mr. MacGregor thinks he's pulling, but I don't like it. I don't like surprises and I don't have time for silly games." She glared at him, irked when he offered no response, his manner cool, aloof.

  Obviously, the direct approach wouldn't work. The man continued to stare at her as if she were nuts. She tried a different tact. She took a deep breath to calm her unsteady nerves.

  "Look, I realize you're only an actor being paid to play a part. I'm sure Mr. MacGregor is paying you very well. I can assure you, you won't get into trouble, you won't be fired, and you'll still be paid for your services, I'll make sure of that. You're really quite good. You had me fooled."

  She smiled, trying to put a soothing tone in her voice, "you can stop now. I know what's going on. I've guessed the game, so you can all stop with the play or charade or whatever it is you're doing." She looked at him for a long moment, a lump forming in her throat, "I just want to go home." She turned away, her hands clenched stiffly at her sides.

  Kris swiped at her cheeks with her hands. She was stronger than this. She hadn't cried in years, she wasn't about to start now. And she would not, could not, let this man see her cry.

  She was halted by an iron grip on her wrist. Iain turned her around to face him. Cupping her chin, he searched her upturned face. She could see by his look that she'd insulted him.

  "First," he began as released her after a long minute. "I am no' an actor." He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest; the disgust in his tone unmistakable. "Second, I would gladly send ye home if ye would but tell me where 'home' is, and third, why dinnae ye explain to me what ye think is going on."

  "Okay, fine," her anger returned, fierce and quick, at his arrogant tone. It was her only defense. She raised a brow at him in amused contempt, "have it your way. I know Mr. MacGregor hired you to play the part of Iain MacGregor. I also know he somehow snuck in here in the middle of the night and either moved things around in my room, or moved me to another room, although I'm not real sure how he would accomplish either of those unless he drugged me or something." She waved a dismissive hand and continued when he opened his mouth to interrupt. "Anyway, he did one of these so it would appear I was back in the seventeenth century. Why he did that, I have no idea. Maybe he's a practical joker, maybe he does it to all his guests to give them a feeling of realism or something, I don't know." She gave him an appreciative smile as she let her gaze travel the length of him. "I must say, though, he did an excellent job picking you out. You bear a very strong resemblance to the real Iain MacGregor." She met his gaze, "but it's over now. I know all about it, so you can just stop pretending, bring me my belongings and I'll be out of here ASAP."

  "ASAP?" Iain's brows knit together in confusion.

  "As soon as possible." Kris planted her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. At Iain's blank expression, Kris lost all sense of composure. She groaned in frustration at his cool, aloof manner and threw her hands in the air. She stalked back to the closet. "If that's the way it's going to be, if you're not going to tell me the truth, could you at least help me move this thing?"

  "I ask ye again, why?"

  Kris sighed in exasperation, but forced her voice to remain calm. He was worse than a child with all his 'whys'. This guy was either very good or dumb as a stone. Maybe he'd ingested to many steroids or something.

  "So I can see what's behind it, that's why."

  "'Tis naught behind it save a wall." Iain shook his head,

  "I don't believe you. Now, are you going to help me move it or not?"

  Iain continued to stare at her as if she hadn't any wits left in her head.

  "I'll just move it myself then." Kris pressed her lips together to keep from sputtering out her anger when he didn't move. She stood to the side of the wardrobe and firmly planted her feet. She realized she wasn't going to get it to move this time any more than she could a few moments before, but that didn't stop her from trying.

  Of course, the stubborn thing still wouldn't budge. She turned and planted her backside against it again and for a second time, pushed with all her might. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and told herself that her headache, rapidly becoming a migraine, would be well worth it when everyone stopped playing games with her.

  And after she showed Iain that she knew what was going on, he could stop acting and get her some aspirin and a cup of coffee with which to take them. She braced herself more securely, closed her eyes, and pushed again with every ounce of anger, frustration, and will power she had.

  It moved!

  Her eyes flew open and she looked up in triumph then gasped when she realized Iain stood over her, his arms on either side of her head. Her concentration had been so intense on moving the wardrobe she hadn't heard him approach.

  He stood close enough for her to feel the heat from his body and smell the musky male scent of him. He smelled of outdoors, of sweat and fresh air and all male. The sensations overwhelmed her for a moment and she froze as her senses leapt to life. A sensuous light passed between them as she met his blue eyes. Eyes that darkened with desire.

  His gaze traveled over her face and searched her eyes. A tingle started in the pit of her stomach and something intense flared through his apparent interest. His nearness made her senses spin and her heart race.

  Kris saw his head lower ever so slightly, uncertainly. Her lips parted in silent invitation, though she did not give them permission to do so.

  When his lips finally touched hers, the heat of his mouth sent a wave of pleasure through her entire body. It was a kiss meant to tempt, not seize, to woo and seduce, not overcome and conquer, but to give in to. She leaned into that kiss, accepting it and silently asking for more.

  The shock of her response jolted her back to reality. Her eyes flew open and she broke the kiss. She cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. With a deep, unsteady breath, she moved away from him before she did something completely stupid, like throw herself back in his arms and kiss him this time.

  Iain's brows flickered a little and he offered her a sort of half smile. Her knees tremble a bit. His smile, though not quite a smile, was almost as intimate as his kiss. She looked away, then back up when she heard him move.

  He shrugged in indifference before he proceeded to move the heavy piece of furniture out from the wall as easily as he would move a goblet from one place to another. Or so it seemed to her. She stood and watched, silently waiting to see what was behind door number one, as it were.

  When the wardrobe was far enough away from the wall, Kris crossed the room to peer behind it, half in anticipation, half in dread. What she saw, or rather didn't see, made her blink several times in rapid succession. A scream of fear and frustration built in the back of her throat.

  She froze, mind and body benumbed with the reality of what she saw. She stood motionless and shook her head in dismay, too stunned to cry or give voice to her panic. She was so confused that for a moment she couldn
't speak. When she finally found her voice, a faint thread of hysteria crept into it.

  "I-I don't understand." She looked at Iain, "I was so certain." Her anger evaporated, leaving only uncertainty and agony of loss. Her mind refused to register the significance of what she looked at behind the wardrobe.

  Nothing.

  Nothing but a blank wall. No hidden door leading to a closet, no knob, not even the shadow of an outline for a door. Just an empty wall. In desperation, she examined the wall hoping to find evidence of a concealed door. The spark of hope that flickered in her spirit was extinguished in a heartbeat. Her heart squeezed in anguish as she realized she was stuck here. Wherever here really was.

  * * *

  "Are ye ill, lass?" Iain watched the various emotions cross her face. She gazed at him in anguish, her expression one of utter desolation and hopelessness. He'd not seen such a look of loss and desolation since his clan had lost so much six months prior.

  "I think so," she spoke in a suffocated whisper.

  "Come, lass, and sit ye down." He touched her elbow lightly, urging, yet protective. Kris gave one last, hopeful glance toward the wall, then did as he bid. Sinking into the stuffed chair, she stared numbly at the wardrobe.

  "Here," Iain crossed to the table and poured a goblet of wine. He returned and stood before her, "lass, drink this." He offered her the chalice. When she didn't take it, only continued to stare with a blank expression, he sank down before her. "Lass?" No response.

  "Kristianna, ye must drink some wine." Nothing. Iain reached out and took her by the arms, shaking her lightly, "Kristianna!" He called loudly.

  When she still did not answer, he put his face very close to hers. Looking directly into her eyes, he shook her again with a bit more force at the same time calling her name.

  Finally, she blinked once, twice. When she began to focus on him, he picked up the goblet and held it to her lips. She sipped the sweet wine he offered. She looked so bewildered and small sitting in the large chair, his heart went out to her, though he quickly tried to erect a wall around it. No emotions, he reminded himself resolutely, they led to nothing but trouble, especially where a woman was concerned.