by Susan Conley
They walked down the street to where Beth had parked. The automatic Rover had cost a fortune. Hopefully it would prove its worth. After she dropped their lunch on the back seat, she handed Calum the keys.
“Right then, we could drive to the firth, it’s very fine, or go up toward the Highlands.”
“No.” She hated to be disagreeable, but their love lives were at stake. “I’d prefer to see the border country, if you don’t mind.”
He smiled as if content that she vetoed his every plan. “Not at all. I’m pleased you speak your mind, lass. South it is, then.”
Beth couldn’t possibly have kept that car on the road, what with the stunning vista stretched out panoramically, not to mention the one in the driver’s seat. Being distracted by Calum was no surprise, but she’d never been so affected by a landscape before. The beauty of the heather–covered hills washed through her completely, seeping into empty parts of her she only now recognized were vacant.
As Calum talked on about the countryside, his brogue and the relaxed look of him stirred her emotions. She worried that the sound of her heart pounding would ring through the high braes and low glens, and the sheep would begin to stampede.
“You should see your face.” He glanced at her as he drove. “Looks like you’re in a dream–come–true kind of place.”
Her face hurt from smiling. “I’m having one of those ecstatic experiences like the great yogis. I swear these hills are speaking directly to my spirit.”
Calum’s smile was alive. “Ah, I’m glad to hear it. We’ll drive a bit farther then. I know a good spot for a wee hill walk to stimulate that spirit of yours.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“So tell me something, Beth. Are you always so trusting of strangers? You’re not concerned I could be a Deacon Brodie?”
She’d learned from the visitors’ guide that Deacon Brodie was more commonly known as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. How should she explain herself? “Well, I’m quite psychic, you know, and I have a good feeling about you, Calum.”
He laughed. “Ah, a lass with decent instincts, and I’ve a good feeling about you even though you called me Calum again.”
“Sorry about that.” He had a good feeling about her. She’d be in trouble if he didn’t, but it was nice to hear. On that subject, it was time to find out if Tiffany had cooked her way from Calum’s stomach to his heart.
“I’m not sure why Calum is stuck on my tongue because he’s ancient history now. What about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”
“More special than a lass who flies all the way from Canada to visit my shop and upon finding me absent, tracks me down at the local pub? Strange that you asked for me by name, but can’t seem to get it right.” He peered at her with a raised brow although his eyes were smiling.
Cripes! The guy in the cabinet shop had ratted on her. Great idea that had been — dressing to be noticed. “I heard you were an excellent craftsman, and I may buy a small cabinet while I am here. I wanted to get right on it, so there’d be time to have it built.”
“How nice to hear I’m known over so far and wide. You didn’t mention that yesterday.”
“Because you mesmerised me with your music and all thought of business went out of my mind.”
“Are all Canadian lassies so pitiable liars as you? It’s a good thing I’ve got all day to get to the truth of the matter.”
“You wouldn’t believe it,” she said under her breath.
“Oh? Now I’m truly intrigued.”
She shouldn’t have said that. It was too comfortable speaking with him. It’d be easier if he didn’t look the same. She didn’t see a way to tell him the truth until he knew her better, until he felt some attachment. Otherwise, he’d not only think her a liar, but crazy to boot. Best change the subject and fast.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out. “Are you dating anyone?”
“Why do you ask? Were you wanting more than my services as a tour guide?”
Yes, but she’d already decided not to be that honest. A thought struck her. No, he wouldn’t have that performance problem in this life. Would he? Her gaze flicked to his groin before she could stop herself.
Oh no, he’d caught her. A devilish smile curved his beautiful lips. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?”
Heat rose to her face like a tectonic eruption. “No, I’m really not. It was just a reflex response to your suggestion. Please just forget it.”
“You are one interesting lass, Beth.”
He’d skirted her question again. Fine. It didn’t matter. Calum–Colin was hers, no matter how many Tiffanys he was dating.
“I’ve a friend Edgar,” he said. “He believes he’s found my perfect match in a woman he works with because he thinks her incredibly beautiful.”
Incredibly beautiful? There was only one thing to do about that — off with her head!
Beth cleared her throat. It had gotten lumpy in there suddenly. “Perhaps Edgar should date her then.”
“Tiffany wouldn’t like that.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with Edgar?”
“Nothing at all. Tiffany is Edgar’s girlfriend.”
What? Was Calum seeing Edgar’s girlfriend behind his back. “Wasn’t it Tiffany who asked you to bring home groceries last night?” Ha! He probably didn’t think she’d remember her name.
“Yes, it’s the least I can do. She feeds me well. Tiffany and Edgar live in the flat above me.”
“Oh.” Beth let out a short exhale. There was no need to feel deflated. Had Edgar’s beautiful goddess flown all the way from Canada for him?
“Do you think you’ve found your perfect match in Edgar’s choice of woman?” She tried not to wince as she waited for his answer.
He snorted. “I admit to a physical attraction, but it’s not likely to go further than that.”
Further than that? Physical contact was more than far enough. Okay, enough about the goddess. Calum had his perfect match — right there in Beth.
“That’s all I need to know,” she said. “Neither of us have ties, so we’ll see how you do as a tour guide, then I’ll let you know if I require further services.”
He shot her a warm look — not sizzling — not quite yet.
Chapter 34
Tam Lin Inspired
Beth didn’t direct Calum in any way once they’d left Edinburgh. Now that they were together she let his instincts guide them. Let the pull of the past be the beacon she prayed he felt. She’d been amply rewarded.
When they’d passed a sign coming up on the town of Roxburgh, she had nearly exclaimed out loud. Every fine hair on her body rose as if summoned to attention. Roxburgh. That was it! The cadence of Calum’s voice came back from the twelfth–century story as he’d recalled her Norman father bringing a young Beth to meet her barbarian husband. So he journeyed with you to Rokesburg where we were married that very day. They’d lived somewhere in these hills. She was sure of it.
Calum pulled over and parked the car beside a sweet–smelling stream forged out of the flat land between rolling hills. The air hummed, buzzed, and twilled. Clear water burbled over rocks edged in high waving grasses that beckoned them to come.
“Wow.” It was all she could say for the moment. Her eyes trailed the brook that tinkled a sweet song through the glen dappled with angelica and yellow iris gently swaying in the warm breeze.
“You look like a lass who’s only just discovered the sky.” He smiled as she caught his eye. “Would you care to walk the hills a bit? We can come back and take our lunch by the water.”
His smile reached inside her and resonated warmly. This wasn’t going to be easy. These hills beat in her heart, and she wanted things to be the way they had been. No more pretending they’d just met. She wanted to shout their history at him, t
hen throw herself into his arms, and make love in the heather.
But that was a fantasy. She wouldn’t chance scaring him off. After a week or so of hill walking and sightseeing, when they’d grown closer, she’d start spilling one bean at a time till all their past was out.
They walked along a bike trail for a couple hours or minutes, she didn’t feel time moving. Talking was easy and comfortable. He told her stories from his childhood, from university, from Canada. She told him she used to feel shortchanged not having a mother until a friend helped her shed that destructive disappointment. Now she reveled in what she did have and shared father–daughter stories with him.
“Oh look.” She grasped his hand, having spied a glass–winged butterfly. It felt thoroughly natural to hold his hand as they stood still watching the transparent wings flutter on a cross–leaved heath. His callused grip was as strong as ever.
There was no escaping the passage of time when Calum’s stomach rumbled loud enough to make her laugh.
“We should go back and have lunch,” she offered.
“Not yet. I want you to see the view from the top of this hill. We’re almost there.”
When they reached the softly rounded peak, Beth tried not to gasp. A shimmering river ribboned along the valley from the far off uplands brushed in butter yellows and lilacs. There was no place to look that didn’t steal her breath. Calum closed the distance between them to stand behind her. His hand came to rest on her shoulder. As usual his touch electrically charged every particle in her body. He hesitated as if he felt it too and then his grip came firm again. She leaned into him magnetically.
“You might think I’m a wee gowk for telling you this, but I feel a connection to you, Bethia, in this place, as though we’ve been here before.”
He’d called her Bethia! “You feel it?”
She turned to face him.
“Do you?” he asked.
“Yes, I do. There was a reason I wished to drive this way. Last night, I had a dream we’d lived together here, in this place. I recognise it now. I dreamt that we pledged our love for all eternity.”
“Pledged our love?”
“Well …” Oh, what the heck. “Yes, I have a belief in past lives, Colin, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you and I lived a life here in the twelfth century, where I thought you a murdering barbarian until I came to know your better side, and we lived a blissful life together that was unfortunately cut short when I died from the plague.”
She checked his expression carefully, but he didn’t have a smirk of disbelief on his face like she would have. He merely looked puzzled. “Why do I have to be a murdering barbarian in this fantasy of yours?”
“It’s not murder when you’re fighting for your king.”
“No, I suppose it’s not. Perhaps you should tell me more of your dreams.”
It was one thing to admit to a little déjà vu, quite another to spring their history upon him as if it was the stuff of dreams. How could she tell him? Would she start with his impotence? Oh, right, there’s a good conversation starter. Or perhaps Finn, the trickster? Or Matthew, the thief? Or should she start way back with their thousand–year pledge? No. Too bizarre.
She reached for Calum’s hand and held it between hers. “When we met, I had a strong feeling about you, as if you are a kindred spirit, and I love to tell stories — ”
“Do you know the story of Tam Lin?”
Beth squeaked. Was it possible? “Why do you ask?”
“Yesterday after we met, I had a fleeting memory of being in a carriage with you telling that story and,” his tongue brushed his bottom lip, “I was stressed about a kiss as though I shouldn’t kiss you even though it was what I wanted.”
Not kiss her? That didn’t sound like the Calum she knew. But he remembered it! And if he thought they were going to talk about kissing and not do it …
“You know, strangely enough, I have a recollection of that very same moment.” She flashed him a smile of invitation. His fingers threaded through hers as his eyes of blue lit with interest.
“I believe I did kiss you,” she said. “But you definitely leaned in first. Here, let me show you how I believe it happened.”
His sexy lips parted then he smiled like he knew what she craved as he leaned in closer.
“And then what?” he asked in a voice gone husky.
“You swept your hand through my hair by the nape of my neck.”
“You’ll have to come closer then.”
“Like this?” He brushed his fingers through the hair at her temple to the back of her neck. The slow, lazy feel of each finger was fire on her skin.
“Oh yes, nice. Now, in my dream, the kiss wouldn’t have happened if you’d not made the night magic with the fairy story of Tam Lin and the horse–and–buggy ride. Yet as I recall, you did wait for me to kiss you.”
“Ah, you likely intimidated me with your bold ways.” His eyes were a soft enchantment.
“Intimidate you? Not a chance.”
“But if I leaned in, lass, my intent was clear enough, no?”
Whether he had or not didn’t matter, he kissed her then, and it was magic. Beth heard the bells of heaven ringing a sweet song at their coming together. There was nothing new in the feel of his lips on hers, the tip of his tongue, the taste of him, his erotic male scent. For her it was like coming home to the place where life’s heart beat, where her spirit was born and sustained, where her senses were heightened to their capacity.
She didn’t kiss him like she’d known him a mere day. They dropped to the ground where her kiss spoke of timeless love and greeting her cherished friend and lover, different from the kiss in the carriage, when she’d been overwhelmed by the physical sensations of his mouth on hers. That kiss paled in comparison. Profound this time, she kissed him with her ancient, primal heart.
When they finally drew apart, they lay in the grass together, he on his back, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips, she on his chest, her forefinger running the length of his angled cheekbone. As their gazes locked, he concentrated as if she were a diary to be read.
“I’ve never known a kiss as that. Who are you, Beth Stewart?”
“I’m yours and you are mine. And by the way, if you think to find your perfect match in Edgar’s goddess, it’s not going to happen.”
“Is that so? You’re fair certain then. What if I’m not the man you’ve foreseen in your dreams?”
“I’m willing to take the chance. You do not feel like a man I’ve known a mere day. This is love at first sight for me, and I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I’ve not nearly the self–control you had, though I didn’t think you had any at the time, but I see now you did, because this is very difficult, and if you had any sense you’d stop me before I tell you things that will make your head spin.” She sighed. “You must think I’m crazy.”
He’d been watching her ramble on with a look of amusement. “If I thought you crazy, I’d not be rolling through the heather with you. Don’t worry over much, lass, I feel a strong connection to you as well. You are so familiar to me that I’m willing to risk that head spinning. But first come here. Kiss me again.”
Six months later
Outside the window at the Inverness Inn, Earth slept, gilded white under snow crystals that sparkled in the light of the full moon.
So this is love, Beth revered, momentarily lingering in the stillness of the glistening night. Pretty spectacular. Love, that is. Loss and abandonment no longer lived within her.
“Have I told you how fine you are to me, m’eudail,” Calum said to his wife, drawing her back from the window against him. When she’d related the Gaelic endearment to him, he’d taken to it fondly assuring her that she was the finest of treasures. He wrapped her in his arms and leaned forward. His jaw grazed her temple as they stood still a
s the night.
“Yes, but I’ll never tire of it.” She leaned back to feel the length of him against her.
“Then come to bed and I’ll tell you again.”
It was their wedding night, six months from the day she’d arrived in Scotland. She’d not left. The power of love had quickly bound them unremittingly. Her family had flown in a week ago for the wedding.
Calum pulled a pin from her hair releasing a curled strand to her shoulder, and then he pushed it aside and kissed her neck. One kiss and she trembled. Would there ever come a day when his touch did not tantalise her?
“Did you notice my mother with your father?” he asked.
“You mean that dance?” Beth laughed. “I would guess that it’s been a long time since my father has pressed up against a woman like that. I don’t want to even think about what they’re doing now.”
“Ah, no. I have something else for you to think on. How do we get this dress off?”
“Undo the clasp above the zipper there, do you see it?”
He took his time finding it. The tip of his tongue drew up fine tremors from under her skin in the same way he’d always done. And always was a long time. Slowly, he made his way to the clasp.
“I’ve got something sensuous and decadent to rub you all over,” he whispered, his lips on her neck, “and it smells good too — oil of jasmine. My sister gave it to me.”
“Your sister?”
“Aye, she wants to make sure I treat you well. She likes you.”
“I can’t imagine ever complaining, Calum.” It just hadn’t felt right to call him Colin.
“‘Tis my intent to keep a smile on your face. Now take off that dress and get you over to that bed, woman.”
He’d dropped their bags just inside the door and went to retrieve the oil. “That’s strange. I know it’s in here. I remember putting it in the outside pocket.”
His clothes piled up on the floor as he searched. She was about to tell him to forget the oil when an oddly warm but familiar breeze blew through the room, ruffling every flimsy thing to a flutter.
