HauntedLaird

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HauntedLaird Page 4

by Tara Nina


  The ground was soft and moist, causing her boots to sink a little. She swung the light around, inspecting the area. It seemed to be very damp and wet and the sound of running water echoed even more loudly. After a few more minutes, she reached a slight drop that appeared to be natural-made steps. She tested each one before placing her full weight upon it. At the bottom, she continued following the sound of the water.

  She walked around a bend and a wondrous sight met her eyes. A waterfall cascaded from the ceiling into a huge pool of water. Dimmed rays of the rainy morning sun snuck in through holes here and there in the roof. Nothing could ever be more pristinely beautiful. Untouched by anyone, preserved by nature. Lynn spun around, taking it all in. Until she saw him.

  Lynn hurried to the statue of a man tucked off to the side in an alcove. She set the lantern on a rock and simply stared. He was the biggest hulk of a man she’d ever seen. Dressed in only a kilt and nothing else. A pair of large hands held a sword poised to strike. Strong legs held him in a lunge position as if he’d started to attack but was halted instantaneously. Taut muscles rippled his massive chest, abdomen and back. His mouth hung open. His scream lost for eternity in time. The surprised anguish in his face tugged at her heart.

  Here was a warrior prepared to kill or be killed. Instead, he’d been cursed.

  She felt Jasper’s presence behind her. “Can ye help him?” His voice came across as a whispered plea tearing at her heart.

  “What can I do?”

  Jasper floated to stand between her and the statue. “Ye must speak the words o’ the anti-curse at the fall o’ night ta free him.”

  “Why have you not done this?” Curiosity gripped her. If there was a cure then why didn’t Jasper free him? There had to be a catch.

  “In the words o’ Akira, ’tis only half a freedom.” He turned to face the statue, lifting his hand to cup the distraught face of his friend. Lynn dug deep to keep from crying at the sight. “Man by night and stone by day. They’ve only now found a way ta free him completely.”

  Lynn sniffed against the threat of tears. “They? Who are they?”

  Jasper returned his gaze to hers. “Akira and the brathairs who have been freed.”

  Puzzlement made her brows purse and boggled her mind. If there was a way to free him why hadn’t the others come here to help? Why did he need her to do it? Staring at him, something hit her and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t asked him earlier.

  “Jasper, when did this curse occur?” He looked at her funny as if confused. “What year did this MacGillivray recite this curse that froze your friend in stone?”

  “Seventeen hundred and forty.”

  She stepped back and sank onto the nearest rock. Jasper had been caught between dimensions for over two hundred years. Did he know what year it was? Did he understand the concept of time?

  “Milady,” Jasper stated as he curtsied. “I am aware o’ the length o’ time I have stood guard. Mi only regret is that I did naught ta prevent this from happening.”

  Though it startled her that he seemed to have heard her thoughts, she asked, “How did you find out it was time to set him free?”

  “On occasion, I ventured ta Castle MacKinnon and hid and watched, waiting for any word o’ how ta save him. I felt it was mi duty ta watch o’er Akira as well.” A grin brightened his features. “The lass no be o’ need o’ help. She be a strong one and knew how ta handle this mess. But still I accepted it as part o’ mi duty ta watch her from afar. On one o’ mi visits, I was surprised ta see Gavin and Ian had been freed.”

  He paused as if gathering his thoughts. “It stunned mi ta see them in the light o’ day. I came back here ta think. I prepared ta question Akira and returned. When I arrived, she had a visitor. The spirit o’ Mary Campbell o’ Breadalbane had come in search o’ Akira. I lingered and listened ta every word. The secret they shared be forever etched in mi memory.”

  “This secret, will it set him free?” she asked even though she suspected she knew the answer.

  “Aye. But only at night. By day he will return ta stone. We have ta get him ta Castle MacKinnon ta find out how ta free him completely.”

  Lynn pursed her lips. Her gaze lingered on the statue. Was this really a man frozen in time in a casket of stone? Did she believe the story? She looked at Jasper and considered the source. She believed in ghosts and now she’d actually had a conversation with one.

  Yep, she decided. This story had merit. It had to be real. Travis believed Jasper’s story so much that he’d convinced her to come here to meet the ancient spirit. She smiled.

  “I’ll help you set him free.”

  Chapter Three

  Ceum saor de clach

  Be Ye Biast air duine

  ’Tis Gaol dara slighe

  Ge Ye be mèinne

  Dh’oidche mur dh’là

  The words at first she thought were beautiful were now giving her a pounding headache as she tried repeatedly to get them right. Though Jasper worked diligently with her, she knew she tried his patience because he disappeared several times for a matter of a second then reappeared at her side. She guessed he needed a chance to gather his calm before continuing. It had to be her Texas twang that kept twisting the enunciation and screwing it up.

  It annoyed her to a degree that every time she questioned him about contacting the spirit world, he redirected the conversation. She decided that if she did as he asked and learned the verse then maybe he’d be more cooperative with what she wanted to know in return. She spent endless hours with Jasper trying to learn the Celtic verse she needed to recite at sundown.

  Completely frustrated, Lynn snapped, “Why do you need me to speak the words? Why can’t you do it?”

  Jasper sat back. Sadness darkened his gaze. “Because I no longer live.”

  He disappeared and Lynn hated she’d asked him in such a harsh manner. She concluded that a flesh-and-blood being had to speak the anti-curse. When Jasper reappeared, she apologized.

  “It be all right, lass. Ye be tired and the verse be hard for one with no background in Gaelic.”

  Lynn kept her voice even and polite as she asked another question that had plagued her thoughts. “Why didn’t you have Travis speak it when he found your cave? Why did you have him bring me here to meet you?”

  “In Padon’s case, the curse need be spoken from a woman’s tongue.”

  “In Padon’s case, a woman’s tongue,” her brow pursed as she questioned him, “what do you mean by that?”

  When her stomach growled loudly, it gave Jasper an excuse not to explain and to change the subject. Jasper apologized profusely for being an unforgivable host for not providing sustenance for his guest. He’d shown her to the collection of knapsacks and assorted camping and spelunking equipment he’d compiled scaring people out of the cave over the centuries. She plundered through several of the more modern backpacks and acquired pre-packaged airtight meal rations, a cup and a spoon.

  The food wasn’t the tastiest, but it was sufficient to stave her hunger. Drinking water from the fresh underground stream helped wash down the rations. Lynn sat quietly, soaking her feet in the cool water and staring at the statue.

  Was he alive in there? Could he hear them? Did he know they were there? These were questions she stored away to ask him once he was free from his stone prison.

  Lynn shrugged off her shirt, stood and shimmied out of her jeans. In her bra and panties, she rinsed the mud from her clothes then laid them over a rock to dry. Though she’d washed up some earlier, she desperately needed to cleanse away more of the grime from her fall. She hesitated when she reached around to unhook her bra.

  “Jasper, if you can here me,” she called out, “I’m going to take a bath.”

  His words whispered down to her. “Ye privacy I shall respect.”

  A smile cracked her lips. He was the most polite man—umm, ghost—she’d ever met. Even though she knew she wasn’t his type, he’d let her know he wouldn’t peek. After removing her undergarme
nts, rinsing them and laying them to dry with her other clothing, she stepped into the water. Out of the corner of her eye she spied something drifting down the stairs. Surprised, she turned, thinking it was Jasper, but instead it was a towel, washcloth and a bar of soap.

  “I found these in a pack and thought ye could use them.” His voice floated to her ears as the items landed on the ground near the water.

  “Thank you,” she said, knowing he heard her without her having to raise her voice. She scooped the soap and the washcloth into her hand and walked farther into the deeper middle of the stream where it formed a significant pool.

  The water was cold but refreshing to her tired muscles. She dunked under, soaking every inch, making sure she wet her hair. Rigorously she lathered her tangled mess of curls, trying her best to rid it of the debris it gathered in her fall. From the amount of tiny twigs and leaves she removed, she bet she looked more like a wild animal than a woman and wondered why Jasper had even spoken to her at all. Lynn laughed. Jasper wasn’t looking at her as a woman but as a means to free the love of his life. She doubted seriously it would have turned him on in the least if he’d watched her bathe.

  She wasn’t the proper gender to be his type. Lynn smiled, feeling relaxed and strangely safe for the first time in hours. Due to the thickness of her hair, she was having difficulty rinsing the soap out. Seeing the pulsing cascade of the waterfall, she decided to use it like a shower in hopes of removing the resilient suds. Lynn swam over and hoisted herself onto the ledge and stood behind the waterfall. After slipping and sliding a bit, she managed to gain a foothold as she leaned back against the rock wall.

  She looked through the thinnest area of the waterfall and focused on the statue. Light from the menagerie of lanterns Jasper had provided shone on the stone surface, giving it an oddly beautiful appeal. Lynn felt compelled to speak the verse as she stood in the mist of the falling water.

  “Ceum saor de clach

  Be Ye Biast air duine

  ’Tis Gaol dara slighe

  Ge Ye be mèinne

  Dh’oidche mur dh’là”

  Seeing nothing happen, a slight bit of disappointment filled her. She took a breath and leaned her head into the more rapid pulse of the waterfall and rinsed the suds from her hair and body. Lynn stepped back from the stream, brushing the hair and water from her eyes. The moment she regained her focus, she froze. The gasp lodged in her throat.

  Was she dreaming?

  When he woke, the realization he was no longer at Castle MacKinnon hit him in the chest with an invisible solid blow. What happened? Where was he? And most importantly, where was his family?

  Padon stumbled forward with his sword held tightly, ready to strike. MacGillivray was behind this. He felt most certain that dark-eyed devil lingered near. He swung around, trying to gain his bearings. Shock shook him to the core as he recognized his surroundings.

  He was in the hunting cave. But how? Last he remembered he was aiming to kill MacGillivray for attacking his brathairs. Padon surveyed the area for any signs of life, knowing only he and Jasper knew of this cave’s location. Jasper had to be behind his being here.

  He shook his head. Had it been a dream? Try as he might he couldn’t remember clearly what had happened. Had he been on a hunting trip with Jasper, drunk too much and dreamed the whole brathairs-turned-to-stone-by-MacGillivray scenario? The tension in his chest eased a tad but not entirely. He lowered his sword and knelt by the stream, cupping some water for a drink, hoping to wash away the severely dusty sensation from his mouth.

  He had barely swallowed when he saw her. A vision most beautiful stood washing her hair in the waterfall. ’Twas it a dream? He splashed the water on his face and blinked but she still remained. How had she gotten here? No woman had ever ventured into their hunting cave.

  “Go to her. She is your salvation.”

  The words whispered to his ears in the sound of his friend Jasper’s voice. He jumped to his feet and spun around but didn’t see him. Anger, confusion and fear mixed within him. What the hell was going on? What sort of sorcery was this? Hearing voices but seeing no one… He slowly turned to the vixen who now stood staring at him from the other side of the waterfall. No one was here but her.

  Maybe she had the answers he sought, since Jasper seemed to be playing games with him.

  Taking deliberate steps, he shortened the distance. Before entering the water, he set his sword on a large rock and dropped his kilt to the ground. No need getting his only clothing wet while he interrogated the woman. He smiled inwardly, knowing he was no small man and being naked only added to his intimidation strategy. At least that’s what he hoped when it came to the weaker sex. Determined to get answers, he forged through the water and onto the ledge.

  Coming face-to-face with her rattled his fierce demeanor. She was not simply a woman, but a gorgeous specimen of female flesh. Though she tried to cover herself with her hands, she failed miserably. He doubted even his oversized hands would hide those scrumptiously large breasts. Taut pink nipples peeked from beneath the arm and hand that attempted to shield them. Instant hunger pitted in his stomach for a sample of their flavor.

  Her other arm and hand did their best to cover the treasure between her thighs. It disappointed him to not get even a glimpse of her mound. Would she balk if he removed her hand so he could see? Padon shook off the idea. He needed answers, not sex. But his body pleaded otherwise as his shaft stirred to life. The awakening of his senses kept him perusing her attributes and muddled his thoughts with desire.

  Though she was short in stature, she made up for it with her incredibly voluptuous figure as far as he was concerned. If her bottom was round and filled his hands, she’d be perfect. Absently he flexed his palms, curling his fingers in and out as if he could somehow feel her there without actually touching her. It didn’t help ease the growing tension in his bawls for this woman. Being in her presence made him remember he was a man as his cock twitched and stiffened even more.

  Padon forced his gaze to lift from her assets and look upon her face. Its shape was that of a cherubic angel. Auburn curls carelessly framed her features. Her lips trembled and it pained him to read fear in her bright-blue eyes. In an attempt to calm her, he reached to cup her cheek but she leaned away from his touch. He dug deep to find his voice and hoped it came across soothing.

  “I will nay hurt thee, mi wee one. I only ask thee for answers.”

  * * * * *

  Vigorously rubbing her eyes, she couldn’t believe what she had seen squatting at the edge of the stream, drinking water. She shot a quick look where the statue had been to find it missing. A pile of pebbles lay in its spot. Cutting her eyes back to the gorgeous half-naked hunk, Lynn was bewildered by this sudden turn of events. What time was it? She had no idea. Had the sun gone down and night fallen while she was preoccupied with getting clean?

  In reality, she hadn’t been entirely convinced the curse existed or that the partial anti-curse she’d struggled to learn would work.

  Her eyes widened. The proof it was true stood and marched toward the waterfall. It was obvious he saw her. Lynn’s heart pounded. What was she going to do? Run? Scream? After an unsuccessful attempt to clear the knot from her throat, she knew screaming was out. The closer he got the more her insides twisted with excitement and fear. He looked like the man in her dream. Tall, dark, handsome and ready to save the day.

  Near the waterfall, he stopped, laid his sword down and released his kilt, letting it slide to the ground. Lynn’s jaw dropped. He was the epitome of pure male perfection. Thick biceps, a broad chest, ripped abs tapering to a trim waist held up by a set of strong legs and a deliciously nice penis centered between those muscled thighs. Realizing she stared at his cock, Lynn felt warmth radiate in her cheeks and forced her eyes to lift. Heat seemed to sizzle in the air as she caught his gaze with hers. The masculine shape of his face, wide jaw, firm lips and the intensity of his blue-green stare made her shiver.

  The word perfect didn’t
describe him well enough as far as she was concerned. Damn. Somehow the man from her dreams had stepped from her imagination and become a real person. He was one hot, drop-dead-sexy beast and he was headed her way. Lynn struggled to cover up as best as possible.

  The way he cut through the waterfall and lifted with ease onto the ledge in front of her was like one of those extremely sensual TV commercials, where the male model wore next to nothing, except in this case he was naked. Lynn could barely breathe when he closed the distance between them. Beads of water rolled down his glorious chest and it was all she could do not to let her gaze follow its trail lower. It wouldn’t be polite to stare and even more wrong to ogle his cock. She kept telling herself this, trying to control the urge to examine him from head to toe again.

  Yet politeness didn’t stop him. His ardent gaze caressed her skin like a tender touch, sending chills across her flesh. Her nipples hardened and she tried desperately to keep them covered but knew she failed from the heated look in his eyes. She had to be reading him wrong. He belonged to Jasper, or had she misunderstood him? Didn’t he say Padon needed a woman to speak the anti-curse? Maybe he was bisexual? Lynn shook herself for even wondering about his sexual likes, but it didn’t stop her pussy from tingling under his avid scrutiny. The sight of his tongue darting across his lips when his eyes lowered to the hand that covered her mound made her instantly wet.

  She’d never reacted this strongly to anyone. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was an overtly sexual ancient Scotsman who’d been wrongly imprisoned for over two hundred years. If she thought going without sex for three years was rough, she bet centuries without was horrific for someone as gorgeous as he. Did his cock even work after having been asleep for so long?

  She chanced a quick glance and was assured it was in perfect working condition. It stood hard and proud, aimed straight at her. It took a great deal of resolve to keep herself covered and not reach to touch such a magnificent piece of male anatomy. She wasn’t even sure how she managed to hold her hands in place. When he reached toward her face, it startled her and she flinched.

 

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