Alexander: A Highlander Romance (The Ghosts of Culloden Moor Book 36)

by Cassidy Cayman

  And who says ye’re a part of it? he wondered mournfully to himself. Ye must recall that Soni will be collecting ye soon.

  Collecting him for far better things? He somehow doubted it. He tried to call up the satisfaction he would gain from crushing Prince Charlie with his fists and boots. But his anger wasn’t as fierce as it had been only hours before. The anticipation had also waned.

  “Well, why did you run poor Dealanaich into the ground?” Kevin prodded, jerking him out of his reverie.

  He smiled wistfully at the lad and shook his head. “Ah, ‘tis a sad tale that has a sadder ending. I’d much rather hear about your plans for that tree house ye were telling me about. I’ve never heard of anything so fanciful as a house in a tree.”

  “But—”

  “Kevin,” Mia said warningly. “Let it go if Conall doesn’t wish to speak of it anymore.”

  She gave him a long look and he dipped his chin gratefully at her. If he only had hours left here, he didn’t want to waste them on the long ago past.

  Kevin shrugged and immediately launched into great detail of what he wished for in a tree house. Mia laughed, saying their lone tree was far too small for multiple rooms and a tower.

  “That’s where your fine imagination must come in,” he said, ruffling the lad’s hair. “What can a person do to get another of those delicious sandwiches?”

  She jumped up, heading for the fridge. “Wash the pan,” she said with a smile.

  “A better bargain I’ve never been offered.”

  He wasn’t especially hungry anymore, he only wanted to fill the new, empty space he felt in his midsection at the thought he’d be leaving Mia and Kevin so soon.

  Chapter 5

  “You really don’t have to,” Mia said as Conall motioned for her to sit down. “It’s enough you did the laundry, played with Kevin all day, and got him to go to sleep. A backrub will put me way too far in your debt.”

  She hoped she sounded light and teasing. But she did feel like she was in his debt. He seemed like an angel, dropped from above to protect them. Perhaps he would go on to be an angel when he was finished with his elusive ghost quest. She inwardly scowled at herself, thinking like that. It was as if she believed him.

  But didn’t she? The alternative was that he was a madman, and she certainly wouldn’t let a madman spend the night at her house, no matter how scared she was. No matter how attractive she found him. She settled herself cross legged on the couch and he knelt behind her, the old springs squeaking under his weight.

  “Okay, let’s say I do believe you’re an eighteenth century ghost.”

  “Verra weel, let’s say that,” he agreed amiably, kneading her shoulders.

  She couldn’t keep a moan of pleasure from escaping her lips. The tension in her neck fled at his touch.

  “Did they even have massage therapists in your time?” she asked.

  “Since I dinna know what that is, I’ll have to guess nay.”

  His thumbs pressed hard against either side of her spine and she moaned again, causing a quiet laugh from Conall.

  “It seems like rewarding work,” he said. “If the sounds ye’re making are from pleasure and not pain.”

  “It’s not pain,” she assured him, finding it difficult to speak she had gone so slack. “It’s amazing.” She let herself enjoy his masterful touch for a few silent moments, then remembered she had decided to believe him. “What’s this quest you were on about earlier?”

  “Ah, that. Since ye’re English, I’ll assume ye have little knowledge of our side of that wicked conflict now known as the last Scottish uprising.”

  She was too wrapped in euphoria at his massage to take offense. “I guess it was as close to a genocide as our country ever got to undertaking. Er, sorry?”

  “Dinna fash. It’s been a long time since I blamed your lot. What I still blame, though, is the cowardly lack of leadership that led to my and so many other’s deaths.”

  “You mean Bonnie Prince Charlie? You can get a miniature bust of him at the gift shop.”

  “I shall be certain to do so and then grind it under my heel. As I mean to do with the man in actuality. That is the reward if I complete my quest. A bit of time alone with Charlie.”

  “Well, I hope you get what you’ve been wanting for so long,” she said.

  She was a limp noodle physically and mentally. It had been a rough day, a rough … well, too long of a time and too depressing to think about how her own cowardice had kept her and Kevin trapped in such a state for so long. When would she ever stop berating herself for all the ‘if onlys’ in her life?

  “Aye,” he agreed, sounding as lost in his thoughts as she was. “I did think it would be the best feeling in the world to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze.”

  She noticed the past tense immediately and shot back to clarity. Wouldn’t it be nice if he could stick around a while? Instead of strangling a long-dead man in some shadowy netherworld? Goodness, his strong hands were making her barmy.

  What was she on about, imagining what it might be like to have Conall around for the long term? She barely knew the man. Except for the fact he was brilliantly patient with her somewhat tiring son, didn’t mind helping with housework, and gave amazing back rubs, she didn’t know him at all.

  She was letting him spend the night because her rancid ex might be on his way, that was all. Maybe two nights, tops. Or until she could figure out a security system, get a vicious guard dog, perhaps wrangle one of those antique guns from Archebald again. Who was she kidding? She’d never really feel safe. It had been foolish of her to try.

  “I suppose it would feel nice,” she sighed. “Revenge, that is. I keep trying to forgive, but honestly, I’d really like to wrap my hands around my ex’s neck as well. At least get a solid kick in.”

  “I shall endeavor to make that happen, should he be so daft as to darken your door,” Conall said.

  He sounded so earnest she burst out laughing. Twisting around to look at him, she saw he was deadly serious. His green eyes stared straight into hers and she knew at that moment that what the man said, he meant. Greedily, she wanted more promises from him, more caresses. She wanted everything from the big Highlander. Certainly more than he was willing to give.

  “Thank you,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward and shy.

  She should have felt shy before he started massaging her neck and shoulders, but after the day she’d had she supposed it was a delayed reaction. She yawned showily, though she wasn’t overly tired. She just needed to break the sizzling tension that had developed between them.

  “Ye must go to sleep,” he said. “Dinna sleep with one eye open, either. I swear I’ll not let any harm come to ye or the lad.”

  She knew she should go to her room and lock the door, or better yet, lock herself in with Kevin. But she didn’t move from the couch. She was trapped, but in the best possible way. If he had to go, shouldn’t she be bold? Would it hurt her heart when he left or be a nice memory to get her through the rough patches? Without any sort of permission from her brain, her body turned more so she fully faced him.

  His hands slid from her shoulders and down her arms, raising heady goosebumps as they went. His green eyes darkened and the intense look he gave her grew scorching. He lowered his head, ever so slightly.

  “I don’t want to go to sleep,” she whispered.

  “I must admit I dinna want ye to go to sleep,” he murmured back.

  The next moment his lips were on hers. The slightest brush, but it made her reach for him to keep from swooning backwards. Her hands landed against his chest, hard and muscled and burning hot. He deepened the kiss and she clung to him, pulling him closer. As soon as it started, the kiss was over. Much too soon. She blinked and curled her fingers in his loose, bullet-holed shirt, finding herself short of breath.

  “Ah,” he said, taking her hands in both of his. “If ye’re not so sleepy yet, perhaps ye could choose a film for us to watch? I see bits of them when the guard
s watch them, but I’ve never seen one in its entirety.”

  He let go of her hands and moved a respectful foot away from her on the couch. His cheeks were red and she imagined hers were fuchsia. Now she knew something else about him, at any rate. Two things, actually. He was a gentleman. And an extremely good kisser. Oh, and one other thing. He was far, far, smarter than her for pulling away.

  Disappointment flooded her, adding to her embarrassment. She sneaked a peek at him out of the corner of her eye while she chose a movie on her tablet. It seemed he was as discomfited as she was. That was a relief. She would have hated for him to act like he didn’t care at all either way after that soul rattling kiss. He did look like it had rattled him as much as it had her.

  She had to put it out of her mind. But her lips wouldn’t let her, nor every inch of the skin on her arms that he’d touched.

  “How about a comedy?” she croaked. She cleared her throat and held up her tablet for him to see. “This one’s about a family that adopts a sasquatch. It’s a big, mythical creature that lives in American forests.”

  “If I could only watch one film in my time here as a living man, is that what ye’d suggest?”

  For some odd reason, tears sprang to her eyes at how earnest he was. She felt an ache in her chest she hadn’t felt in a long time. She almost couldn’t place it. Contentment, happiness? Dare she think it might be the stirrings of love? She needed to stop it right now.

  “Harry and the Hendersons is the perfect choice for a once in a lifetime film,” she said, a hitch in her throat. “Why not?”

  “Why not, indeed,” he said, inching a bit closer to her so he could better see the screen.

  She pressed play, her heart screaming at her the very same question. Why not get closer to him? Why not completely trust him, why not let him into her life? There must have been dozens of reasons, maybe even hundreds. But as she nestled closer to him, she couldn’t think of a single one.

  ***

  The poor love had dark circles under her eyes and kept shaking her head to stay awake. Halfway through their third film— either she had dubious taste in them or they weren’t all modern folk cracked them up to be— he took her hand.

  “I’ve had much experience on the night watch,” he assured her. “Rest easy.”

  In moments she was asleep. He patrolled the perimeter of the house and made sure all the windows and doors were locked, then made himself a cup of tea.

  A box marked “books” caught his eye and he rummaged through it. He couldn’t help smiling at all the colorful ones that clearly belonged to the lad. All about pirates and knights, astronauts, dinosaurs. He put down the novel he’d chosen and picked one of Kevin’s about space travel. How fascinating. Of course he’d seen airplanes, but to go all the way to the moon and beyond made his head spin.

  Conall moved to the armchair after covering Mia with the blanket that was draped over the back of the lumpy couch. He thought about carrying her to her bed so she would be more comfortable but he didn’t dare the temptation that might give him, nor did he want to risk waking her.

  Space travel and all its wonders couldn’t hold a candle to the fascination of the lovely sleeping lass and he found he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. So delicate looking, but with the heart of a warrior.

  He felt overly warm, but it wasn’t the house. In fact, he should have wanted a blanket to cover himself. It was as if something was glowing inside him, heating up the skin and bones that had been nothing but a chilly presence for so long.

  Sometimes he accidentally got in the way of a visitor to the moor. As they passed through him, he’d watch with misery while they shivered and clutched at their arms as if a sudden wind had hit them. He didn’t know how much he missed the simple sensation of carrying a wee lad on his shoulders, having a woman lean her head against him, or let him take her hand.

  He clenched his fists, trying to imagine using his solid form to bash Charlie, but like the miracle of space exploration, it couldn’t hold a candle to Mia.

  Chapter 6

  Mia awoke to a pounding at the front door. Her racing heart drove away every last bit of sleep and she sat up straight. It took her a second to remember why she was on the couch, but the Highlander standing in the middle of her living room quickly brought her up to speed.

  “Shall I answer it?” he asked, voice full of tension, eyes fierce.

  Every muscle in his very muscular body was coiled for action. She prayed there would be no need.

  “Just stay here. Let me see who it is.”

  She sounded more confident than she felt. Who would be pounding her door down first thing in the morning? The old door didn’t have a peephole and she moved the curtains the barest centimeter, hoping whoever was out there wouldn’t notice the movement.

  Her hands shook when she saw a sleek black Mercedes in the drive. Would he park in the drive so boldly? Of course he would. He feared nothing, thought his money put him above the law. Which, sadly, it mostly did. But not this last time, which had driven him bonkers with rage.

  The angle the door was at, she couldn’t see who was on the porch unless she either opened the door or pulled the curtains back more. She couldn’t make herself do either and found she was shrinking back into the shell of her old life. Too frightened to do a thing.

  Bother that. She had a massive Highlander in her living room. One who couldn’t be killed. Giddy with excitement, she scurried back to Conall.

  “I can’t see who it is,” she said. “You better open it. He’s not one for subtlety.”

  He grinned and cracked his knuckles, sending a thrill coursing through her. “Aye, nor am I.”

  She stayed back a few feet as he marched toward the door. He deftly turned the locks and flung it open with a bloodcurdling yell, fist raised and ready to rain down hell. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see the hell start raining down.

  A tiny woman with a dark bob haircut stood in the doorway, holding a large wicker basket. To her credit she didn’t flinch at the merciless apparition in front of her, only moved back a step.

  Conall dropped his fist and bowed. “I beg your pardon. We— I thought ye’d be someone else.”

  The woman smiled, peeking around his hulking form. “I’m Piper Sinclair-Ferguson,” she called cheerily. “From the castle up the hill.”

  Mia hurried forward, pushing Conall out of the way. “Goodness, sorry.” She tried to think of an excuse for why Conall had opened the door in such a manner but gave up completely. “Come in, won’t you?”

  Piper held out the basket. “My best friend Evie is your neighbor and she couldn’t shut up about you. I brought some jellies and a ham to welcome you to the village. My cook is amazing. If you like ham, you’ll think you died and went to heaven.”

  Mia took the basket and motioned for her to follow them to the kitchen. “I like ham,” she said dizzily.

  One moment she thought she had to face her ex, the next she thought she was going to finally see some justice done. Now she had a ham and another nosy American in her house. Piper could not stop staring at her Highlander.

  The Highlander, she quickly corrected herself. He’s not yours.

  “You definitely seem authentic,” Piper mused when they were settled at the table with tea. “When were you from?”

  “How?” Mia nearly screamed. “How can you know about it?”

  Piper grimaced. “You don’t know Evie. She’s not malicious and she can keep a secret if you specifically tell her to, but other than that she has the flappiest lips of anyone I’ve ever known. I call it small village syndrome. I catch it myself sometimes when the gossip is juicy enough.” She smiled at Conall. “And a ghost is pretty juicy.”

  “You believe he’s a ghost?” Mia asked incredulously. “Evie actually believed he was a ghost and ran and told you about it?”

  “Yes and yes,” her guest answered. “I believe a lot of stuff at this point in my life.”

  “I was born in 1723 and died in 1746,” Conall answe
red as if Mia never had her outburst.

  Mia did the calculation and gasped. “You’re my age,” she said. “Oh, you died so young.”

  He smiled smugly. “Ye truly believe me now?”

  She pushed her teacup away and rested her head on her arms. “I guess so,” she said.

  It seemed the world had gone topsy-turvy and there was nothing for her to do except tumble right along with it. With a long sigh, she sat back up and faced Piper and Conall.

  “It’s not all that far-fetched,” Piper said.

  “It’s not?” Mia couldn’t keep herself from wailing.

  Piper shrugged. “Not here. What made you move to Castle on Hill, anyway?”

  “Can you keep a secret if I specifically ask?”

  “Yes. Of course.” Piper reached across the table and patted her hand. “We might be busybodies, but we’re good people. Evie and I have been through a lot.”

  Mia decided to trust. After all, she lived here now, for better or worse. And she’d just admitted to herself she believed in ghosts. And might possibly have a big crush on one.

  “My ex-husband is a rampaging control freak who used to abuse me and my son. I came here to get away from him and his family.”

  The words were hard to get out but once she said them, a great weight lifted off her shoulders. She always told Kevin that it wasn’t his fault but she never actually accepted that fine guidance herself. Until now. She smiled radiantly at Piper. This village full of oddballs suddenly felt like home.

  “And the ghost here?” Piper asked, calmly sipping her tea.

  “I’m on a quest,” he answered. “And ye may call me Conall.”

  Mia had to smother a giggle at his obvious annoyance at being called the ghost.

  “So interesting,” Piper said. “If you need a job—” she paused and tentatively poked his arm. Nodding, she continued. “Solid enough. Yes, if you need a job, there’s always work at the castle. We try to keep everything historically accurate for the tourists who visit it, so someone else with firsthand knowledge of the past would be a real boon.”