by L. L. Muir
He’d even planned to sleep outside again, but she’d insisted they pick a bed and breakfast. She’d claimed she needed Wi-Fi, which she did, of course, but she needed a shower and bed more.
After spending a day in his company, spending the night in his arms wasn’t something she wanted to try again.
Perhaps she was afraid she’d like it too much.
She checked that the complimentary robe covered her completely, that the towel wrapped around her head was tight, then opened the door, and stepped out of the bathroom.
Gareth sat on the plush chair in the corner. “Are ye done, lass? Is it my turn?”
“It’s all yours.”
He’d already removed his boots. “I’ve never had a shower before, unless ye count the rain. I’m lookin’ forward to it.”
“Oh, you’ll like it.” She pulled out Cara’s Highlander novel, climbed into bed, and got under the covers. She needed a distraction, a reason for him to stop talking to her, and a pretext to look away.
“What are ye readin’, lass?”
“Just a story.”
“Can I see the book?”
She hesitated, then reluctantly handed it over. If she didn’t let him see it, if she acted as if it was a big deal, he’d hound her until she gave it to him.
He studied the dark, bare-chested figure on the cover, the kilt and tartan . “Won’t ye read me some of it?”
“You’d probably rather watch TV.”
He looked amused as he handed her back the book. “So, ye like Scottish men?”
She took her book and ignored him as she opened it again. When he drew a breath and went to speak again, she sighed. “It’s called fantasy.” She gave Gareth a pointed look, “With the lack of attractive men in my life, I can at least enjoy a pretend romance. Can’t I?”
He looked offended. “Ye dinnae find me attractive? At one time women did.”
“You’re too angry.” She turned the page.
He scowled at that. “What has anger to do with my looks?”
“Are you kidding? Everything. Men never understand, but a pleasant demeanor has everything to do with your looks.”
He still scowled..
“You’re making my point exactly. Go look in the mirror, and you’ll see what I mean.”
His expression relaxed, and he grinned. He looked at the book again and padded back and forth in front of the bed. She bit her lip. Was he trying to capture her attention?
“So, modern women like a fantasy man?”
She turned the page. “Why don’t you go find some modern women and ask them?”
“I’m askin’ ye, lass.”
She sighed. “What we like is the romance, the happily ever after. Something men rarely know anything about.”
There was a long pause. “I had a girl once, ye know.”
That made her put the book down. “Really? You mean like a girlfriend?”
“Aye. She was to wait for me while I fought for the French.”
“And did she wait?”
“I suppose she got tired of pining. She found someone else, married, and had children. I suppose I made her wait too long, didn’t I?”
Whether he realized it or not, she heard the underlying regret in his voice “I’m sorry. That’s too bad.”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but she could tell it did.
The silence became awkward, and after a moment, Lissa blurted out, “I’ve been there too, you know. I’ve had a few bad relationships I hoped would work out. I happen to know some very powerful men, and I’ve had several attractive guys try to use me to get to them.”
Gareth looked at her like she was crazy. “They used ye to get to other men?”
She shrugged.
He continued to stare.
Her cheeks heated. Why had she said anything? She should have kept her mouth shut. Now he studied her as if she was some sort of freak. “What are you doing? Looking for flaws?”
He slowly shook his head. “There are no flaws to be found. Ye’re simply beautiful, lass.”
She released a breath. What was she supposed to say to that?
~~~
“’Tis wondrous, Lissa!” Gareth called from the bathroom. “Ye should join me!”
“I’m good,” she murmured under her breath.
Was it too much to ask he shut the door? He claimed he was afraid she’d run off, but she’d started to think he was simply an exhibitionist. The fact she was tempted to peek was maddening, but fortunately, a bright pink shower curtain blocked any kind of view. All she could see was the top of his head.
Propped against pillows, she leaned against the headboard, legs outstretched, computer on her lap. She’d given up on the novel and tried to find information on his sister, Tavia MacGregor, but so far, nothing.
“This soap smells of lavender! ’Tis foamy, and there’s much of it!”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your shower,” she called out. He’d gone into raptures over the toothbrush and toothpaste, as well.
He groaned. “The suds are amazin’!”
Was he soaping his hair for the third time? Was she peeking again? If it really was his first shower, she couldn’t begrudge him. Let him enjoy.
He groaned again. The man should feature in a commercial.
They were still getting used to each other. He swung between trusting her and not. He appeared slightly unhinged at times, and then he’d amuse her. Like now. She’d probably like him better if he didn’t remind her periodically she was his servant. It’d be nice if he asked for help instead of demanding it.
“The water’s startin’ to cool.” He sounded disgruntled.
“And here I thought you primitive types liked to sleep outdoors and take cold showers.” She purred the words, confident he couldn’t hear.
“’Tis gettin’ even colder!” Indignation threaded his voice.
She chuckled quietly.
“Will it warm again?”
“It’ll probably take at least an hour,” she called.
He growled in disgust and fumbled with the knobs until he turned the water off. “’Twas wondrous.”
“I could tell you enjoyed it.”
“When will the food arrive?”
She chuckled. “In a few.” The intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on her. She should feel more uncomfortable and probably shouldn’t be enjoying this so much.
He slid the shower curtain aside and she quickly ducked her head. He half closed the door, but continued to rhapsodize about the wonderful soap, the hot water, and how he could get used to it. When he finally exited the bathroom, barefoot, he’d braided his hair on both sides and dressed again in his black and red kilt and plaid, his belt firmly tucked around his waist.
She exhaled.
He bounced down on the bed. “What have ye been doing?”
“Don’t get too comfortable. Ye’re on the couch tonight, remember? And I’m searching for information on your sister.” A clean, sweet-smelling Gareth heightened his attraction so she didn’t look at him. Did he know how he affected her? She suspected so.
“Any luck?”
“I’m not sure. I did find something. It may be a reference to your sister. I’ll know more when we reach the church. Can I have my phone? I need to call my boss. I don’t want to get fired.”
He frowned. “Ye work for me now.”
“Not permanently. Eventually, I’ll go back to work for the man who actually pays me.”
“I’m here but a couple more days. Mayhap less. Ye can put him off until then.”
“Oh, can I now?”
He glowered. “Blood will tell. Ye need to make the honorable choice here. I’ve no doubt yer father acts much the same, makin’ and breakin’ promises.”
“That’s it.” Setting the computer aside, she stood beside the bed and pointed her finger. “You know what? I’m actually proud of my heritage, of my family, and especially my father, so bite me!”
He
stood as well, his sizable male body making the room suddenly smaller, but she refused to act intimidated.
“And I’ll tell you what else, I have no doubt everyone in the world has relatives they’re ashamed of and that includes you!”
A storm arrived on Gareth’s face and he tossed her phone on the bed. “Ye’re proud of yer relationship to Charles Stuart? The man was naught but a cowardly, dimwitted, layabout! A drunk and a fool. He did naught to honor his family name when he lived.”
Her hands shot to her hips and her chin jerked forward. “Blah, blah, blah. I’ve never met the man in my life, so I don’t care about him, do I?”
“It seems ye do. Ye bring him up often enough, do ye not? Go about braggin’ of him.”
She pointed again. “You’re the one who brings him up all the time. Perhaps he was so bonny you had a fondness for the man? Charmed you, did he? Then let you down?”
They were both glaring when a knock sounded on the door.
Gareth crossed the room to answer. He smiled, his bad mood dissipating as a middle-aged woman slid into the room balancing a tray.
“Oh, this looks good.” Gareth studied the meal. “Did ye make it yerself?”
“Aye, I did.”
“Weel, it looks delicious, the best I’ve seen. I cannae wait to taste it!”
Oh, now he charmed, did he? As she watched him smile and banter with the landlady, watched her giggle, she wondered if she’d be able to resist that sort of charm.
She plucked her phone off the bed and plugged it in. When she turned it on, she saw Perry had called.
Tittering, the lady of the house retreated.
“What are ye doin’?”
“Calling my boss.”
At his reluctant nod, she dialed Perry’s number.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you!” Perry’s gruff voice sounded irritated.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been doing research. Historical research,” she stressed. That was true enough, she was studying a Neanderthal, wasn’t she? Hopefully some of the research she did for Gareth would work for her boss as well.
“I don’t like it when you disappear like that!” Perry shouted, and she flinched. She could just see him grabbing the hair at the back of his head the way he did. “I need to know what you’re doing. What have you got for me?”
Gareth snatched the phone. “Who’s there?”
She could hear Perry asking the same on the other end.
“I dinnae care for the way ye talk to Mistress Stuart. I’ll not stand by and listen to ye bellowin’ at a female. Where are yer manners, man?”
Lissa fought to get the phone, but he easily held her off. When he finally relinquished it, she tried to apologize. “Perry, I’m sorry.”
“Who was that?” He sounded subdued.
“A contact. A man helping with research.”
“All right, keep me informed. When you can.”
She disconnected and looked at the phone. Perry backing down? He considered it his right to be loud, obnoxious and demanding. Most pandered to his vanity.
She turned to Gareth. “Why did you do that?”
“No man will use that tone of voice with ye while I’m here.”
“You use it all the time.”
“No other man. I dinnae care for his tone.”
“You’ve been snapping at me for twenty-four hours. Threatening to kill me!”
“Ye belong to me for the next two days, and ye’ll be safe in my care.”
She threw up her hands. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ruin my career in the meantime. Anyway, what do you mean by two days?”
He lifted a shoulder. “When my time’s up, I’ll be gone.”
At that, her stomach hollowed. “Why? Where will you go?”
“As to that, I’m not sure. Heaven? Hell? The witch didnae say.”
“You’re going to die again?” Lissa had a hard time catching her breath.
“I expect so, lass. Death holds no mystery for me. So what say ye dinnae make the few days I have miserable. Just do as I say, and we’ll get along fine.”
“Mm hmm.” She snorted and reached for her computer. “Whatever you say. I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
After a long hesitation, he asked, “Bite ye where, exactly, lass?”
She laughed.
CHAPTER SIX
Lissa woke the next morning with a start and the ghostly apparitions faded away.
A nightmare. No surprise there as she’d been awake most of the night tossing and turning. Wait. Why had she been awake most of the night?
It took her a moment to remember where she was. Scotland.
She sat up and looked over at the couch. She could see where Gareth had slept, his pillow still on one end and a blanket neatly folded beside it. He wasn’t in the bathroom either, and she finally realized he wasn’t in the room at all. The guy was a ghost. Maybe he’d simply disappeared?
This was the first he’d left her alone. This was her chance to run away, wasn’t it? Or, there was a pad of paper on the nightstand with the address of the hotel. She could simply call the police and wait for rescue. She didn’t owe the man anything, did she?
Finally, she threw herself back against the pillows. Who was she fooling? She wasn’t going to do anything. She’d given her word and planned to help.
Unless he really had disappeared.
Sometimes she didn’t even understand herself. There was something very compelling about him, and sleeping in his arms the night before last had probably scrambled her brains.
Before she had a chance to think further, the door opened, and Gareth, looking triumphant, came in carrying a tray with food and drinks. “I quite like the lady of the house. She’s verra accommodatin’.”
A spurt of happiness rose within her. Oh good grief, she did have Stockholm syndrome, didn’t she?
Gareth eyed her appraisingly. “Ye know, lass, ye make a lovely picture this morn.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
And did she flinch? No. Did she run screaming for her life? No. Did she enjoy it? Yes. Case closed. A major case of Stockholm. She didn’t want to get away. She was attracted to the guy. “You’re in a good mood this morning. What happened? Did you find someone to fight with? Did you slay a few enemies? Have a pint with your ghost friends.”
“Ye’ve a smart mouth on ye in the morn’.”
While she’d lay awake for half the night, he’d drifted off to sleep immediately.
She actually wanted to believe his story. That he was a ghost from the Highlands, that he was exactly the kind of man she liked to read about in romance novels. He was probably trying to make a fool of her, and he certainly didn’t have to try very hard.
Her father would say she was a dreamer. Her no-nonsense mother would think her gullible.
There was a tap at the door. When Gareth opened it, the landlady giggled, and brought in a tray of food. “A big man like ye needs a proper breakfast in the mornin’. I thought ye might enjoy these fresh-baked cinnamon rolls.”
Gareth grinned. “If they were made by ye, I’ve no doubt they’ll be the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Flatterer. Lissa managed to keep from rolling her eyes.
The woman giggled again. “Oh, get on with ye. Ye’ve a devil’s tongue and that is God’s honest truth.”
She set the tray down on the dresser and glanced at Lissa. “Nothin’ quite like a holiday romance, is there love?” She giggled again. “Our Scottish lads are difficult to resist.”
“Now, where are ye from again Gareth? I love how thick yer brogue is.”
As they discussed the area, Lissa had the realization that if she didn’t accuse Gareth of keeping her here against her wishes, she wouldn’t be able to say a word about it later. No one would believe her.
After the landlady left, Lissa asked, “Are you excited to find out about your sister? To see if you have any relatives left in the area?”
“Aye. I
’ll admit yesterday I was afeared of what I might find, but today’s a new day, and I’m anxious to get there.”
“You do realize after all these years, there might not be anyone left to find?”
“But there might be.”
“We’ll look in the church records, but be prepared for the worst. You don’t want to be disappointed if it leads to a dead-end.”
He sighed. “I’ve had enough of disappointment over the years. Just for today, can we hope for the best? If only for a while?”
That just about broke her heart.
If she took him completely at face value, he’d been through a lot. He’d lived in a difficult time full of conflict and war—and died young. He’d been a ghost for 270 years. And now a witch had control of his future.
He only planned to keep Lissa with him for a couple more days at most. Because the witch was going to take him back.
Did she really believe any of this?
She shook off her doubts. If he ended up making a fool out of her, then so what? That was on him, not her. She’d treat this like a fantasy trip. She was in Scotland, on an adventure, with a gorgeous man.
If she protected her heart, she could still come out of this with some good stories to tell, and maybe some great memories.
She was going to let go of doubt and seize this opportunity.
Surely she could find some good news to tell him? She could focus on the positive, right?
She smiled at him. “Okay. Let’s hope for the best.”
~~~
Gareth watched as Lissa quickly packed her things, and called to the front desk to inquire about rental cars. She’d insisted she’d not walk again this day.
She was a vulnerable little thing. He wished he could help her with that, but he couldn’t stay. Perhaps he could toughen her up a bit before he went, teach her to stop people from taking advantage of her. He’d been taken advantage of in the worst way possible. He’d forfeited his life and his brothers’ lives to a fool. He vowed never to let such happen again. Especially to those in his care.
