by Cindy Miles
“Like what?” Allie said.
“Oh,” the friar said, smoothing his hair down, “frightening his sisters, for starters, and I promise you, I only conjured a small hedgehog or two to scamper from beneath their beds.”
They all chuckled.
“That’s something else that fascinates me,” said Allie. “How exactly do you conjure?”
“Oui,” said Elise. “Justin taught us to simply concentrate on whatever it is we wish for the mortal to behold, then voila! It happens!”
Allie glanced at Justin. He wagged his brows. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to know how he learned.
Allie leaned back and smiled. “So, how did you first meet Gabe?”
“Oh, he was such a sweet little dear,” said Elise. “With those chubby cheeks and green eyes and darling little crooked mouth.”
“Och, he was a fine little lad, indeed,” said Justin. “Although from the moment he could walk, he was quite the handful.”
“We all followed to the infirmary when he was born,” said Killigrew. “We stayed invisible, but there he was, lying in the nursery with a dozen other babes.”
“Aye, but his holler was indeed the loudest of them all,” said Ramsey. “Dandy set of lungs, that young Gabe.”
“So much like his own da,” said Justin. He gave a winsome smile. “ ’Tis strange, at times, to think of Gerald as a wee babe. But we watched him come into this world, too.”
Allie watched the spirits of Sealladh na Mara with a newfound respect. They’d watched so many babies mature into adults, only to lose them at some point in life. To grow to love someone so dearly, only to watch them die. How very sad . . .
“So you can see why we dunna want the lads to leave us, aye?” said Justin.
Allie regarded each soul, and the very same thing shone in each of their ghostly eyes.
Love for Gabe and Jake.
“Yes, I certainly can,” she answered. “And the only way I think I can help is to find out what’s truly bothering Gabe.” She met Justin’s gaze. “Jake says he has bad dreams of his wife.”
He nodded. “Indeed, I can see how—”
“Shht!” said Elise. Her face softened when she looked at Allie. “I don’t mean to sound so crude, but ’tis Gabe’s tale to tell and no one else’s. ’Twould be wrong of us to tell it behind his back, non?”
Allie nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I’m sure with a little time, he’ll open up.”
She just hoped it wasn’t too late when he decided to do it.
Allie stretched and yawned. “Well, I’m off to bed.” She stood and faced the lot. She started for the stairs. “Good night, then.”
A round of good-nights sounded in the room, and Justin rose from his seat. “I’ll walk you to your chambers, lass.”
Allie led the way across the lobby and to the stairs, Justin just behind her. As they reached the third-floor platform, Justin fell into step beside her.
She glanced at him, noticed he was looking down at her, smiled, and shook her head.
“What is it?” he said.
“You. You’re like, what, six foot two?”
“Four.”
“Okay, six foot four. You’re walking beside me, you tower over me, you’re swaggering in that arrogant way guys walk, with your overcoat swishing around your legs, and although your physical matter isn’t really there, you’re really there.” She looked at him. “Your soul. The thing that really counts.” She looked away and shook her head again. “I guess that’s what fascinates me so much about the unliving.”
Justin chuckled, a low, deep sound in his throat, and as they reached Allie’s door, he turned to her. “Well then, lass, let me say that I’ve never been more bloody thrilled to be amongst the unliving.” He winked, and gave her a sweeping low bow. “Until the morn, Allie Morgan.”
He rose, gave her a lopsided grin, and swaggered off down the corridor.
Allie watched him until he disappeared.
Literally.
With a yawn, she let herself into her room and readied herself for bed.
Gabe could hear the moan, and somehow, he thought he was awake.
And that the moan came from someone else.
Yet he lay there, unable to move, unable to fully rouse. His heart slammed against his chest, and sweat beaded his forehead. A vision appeared, foggy, unclear, and tendrils of icy mist slipped about his throat and squeezed, and the breath left his lungs in a rush of forced air . . .
“No!” he shouted, and Gabe found himself sitting straight up in bed. He blinked, trying fiercely to clear the awful vision.
But before it faded, it changed. He was awake now, not half asleep. The tendrils of mist became dank hair, auburn hair—Kait’s hair—and the place where her face should have been remained dark, shadowy, hollow. From a body that wasn’t fully formed, a long arm rose, and from that, a finger.
It pointed straight at Gabe.
Make her leave . . .
“No!” Gabe shouted. His eyes flew open. This time, he truly did sit up. He glanced around, peered into every darkened corner, and found nothing. He wiped his forehead that was indeed beaded with sweat, and tried to calm his ragged breath.
He couldn’t tell which time he’d risen was real.
Swearing, he pushed the duvet from his body and walked to the window, lifted the pane, and let the cold air drift in. It cooled his face and bare body, and he closed his eyes and inhaled, tasting the salt of the loch on his tongue. Familiar things that haunted him yet soothed him at the same time.
Christ, he was daft.
Although he knew what he’d find, he checked the clock. One a.m. Just as he thought.
After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he pulled on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt he left unbuttoned, checked on Jake, who blessedly was still asleep, and slipped out into the darkened corridor. At the landing, he stopped and looked up.
It took everything he had not to take the next flight of steps and go wake Allie Morgan. Why he had the insane urge to simply talk to her, he didna know. Christ Almighty, he was losing his bloody mind . . .
He shook his head and started down, toward the kitchen. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he felt as though he wanted to run as fast and hard as he could, just to make the dreams go away. He’d lose his mind alone. He wouldna drag anyone else along. Especially a virtual stranger.
A stranger you’re powerfully attracted to . . .
With an intensity building within, the need to release the pent-up frustration of what was happening to him, Gabe hurried through the dark. Just as he neared the kitchen, he slammed into a body. He reached out and grabbed a pair of arms that seemingly reached for him at the same time.
Allie gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. I—Gabe, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it Jake?”
Gabe realized only then how tightly he held on to Allie’s upper arms, and he could only imagine what his expression looked like.
He loosened his grip, but didna let go. “Nay. No’ Jake.”
“Take a deep breath, Gabe,” her calming voice spoke just above a whisper. “Close your eyes and breathe.”
He did as she asked, and with that deep breath Allie’s scent wafted up, soft, feminine, a bit flowery, and clean. When he opened his eyes, he could barely see her, and only with what the small amount of light shed by the single lamp in the lobby allowed. She was mostly in shadows, but he could tell her hair was down, and that she wore something dark, thin, and soft. And although her words were soothing, calm, her breathing told a different tale. She was either nervous or scared. Maybe both.
“Look at me,” she said, her fingers tightening around his forearms. He hadn’t even noticed right away that she’d held on. “Focus, Gabe, breathe again, and look at me.”
Again, he did as she asked. He opened his eyes and looked down, and the amber glow from the lobby’s lamp made her blue eyes appear dark, glassy, and fathomless. She said nothing else. She simply stared up at h
im, breathed with him, waiting.
And it was more than he could bloody take.
Locking in on her gaze, Gabe eased one hand up and threaded it through the heavy mass of Allie’s hair—just as soft as he imagined. He watched with fascination as one long curl coiled around his finger as though it had a life of its own.
Slowly, he slid his hand to her jaw, tilted it just so, and held her chin as he lowered his head. His mouth settled over hers, soft, full lips that seemed to fit his perfectly. They stood there, mouths pressed together, and breathed. Gabe edged closer, cupped the back of her head with one hand, slid the other to her waist, and barely opened his mouth. When his tongue touched hers, he groaned, a sound he felt deep in his chest, a sound he had no control over.
Allie moved then, and where she’d been still as a statue before, her hands left his forearms and slid up to his neck, encircling it and pulling his mouth closer to hers. She kissed him then, hesitant, yet willing, and Christ, she tasted so good, he wanted more. Leaning into her, he pressed her against the wall, felt the softness of her body beneath whatever thin slip of something she wore, and pulled her closer still. Their mouths moved together, his hands held her head at just the right angle, and there, in the dark and without words, they kissed.
Allie’s soft fingers trailed his jaw, slid close to their mouths, and held on tightly as he pulled her closer still. One hand moved over his chest and slipped round to his back. The sensation of her skin brushing his drove him mad. Christ, it’d been forever since a woman had touched him . . .
“Ahem!”
Gabe and Allie both jumped at the same time, efficiently clunking their heads together. Gabe held her at arm’s length, and then let go and stepped back farther. He kept his eyes trained on hers. She rubbed her forehead. He rubbed his.
He didna trust his voice at all.
“I do believe ’tis time for the young lady to return to bed,” said Friar Digby with more severity than Gabe remembered ever hearing. “She’s spent way too long out here in this drafty hall”—he peered at him through his ghostly cowl—“with you.” He smiled at Allie. “Miss? Shall I accompany you?”
Allie glanced at Gabe, the corner of her kiss-swollen mouth lifted into a tiny smile, and she nodded. “Sure. Thanks, Drew.” As she stepped around Gabe, she looked at him once more. “Good night.”
“And to you,” Gabe said.
He watched them both leave.
Turning, he put his back to the wall and rested his weight there. With one hand, he rubbed his jaw, then scrubbed his eyes.
Christ Almighty, what had he just done?
He was damned lucky the only spirit to have seen them was the friar. One never knew where they lurked.
Pushing off the wall, Gabe made for the kitchen, filled a large glass with water from the tap, and drank it down in two, three gulps. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he set the glass down and stared out the window. The loch gleamed in the moonlight, and somehow it looked cold outside. Just what he needed.
Without another thought, he walked to the side door, opened it up, and stepped out. A blast of icy air hit his bare chest, his throat, his face. He stood there for several minutes—maybe longer—until his heated body had cooled, and his heart had slowed to normal.
As he glanced at the cliff in the distance, and at the remnants of his ancestor’s keep, he wondered briefly if his bloody heart would ever beat normal again.
As long as Allie Morgan was around, he doubted it.
With that gloomy thought in mind, Gabe eased back inside and closed the door.
Allie closed her door, then turned her back to it and rested her weight there. Briefly, she closed her eyes.
And that brought back every memory, every sensation of Gabe’s hands moving over her skin, his mouth tasting hers, his weight pressing against her.
And the absolute power and desperation the man had bottled up inside. Allie knew it had taken nearly all his strength not to unleash that power and desperation—she could feel it simmering just below the surface of his skin, feel it in his kiss, and in how his hands had clung to her.
Opening her eyes, she heaved a hefty breath and moved to the alcove window seat, lifted the glass, and stared out over the loch. Cold and windy, the air touched her skin, cooling it, somehow soothing it, and bringing her back down to earth just a little.
Enough to realize something else.
Desperation and power weren’t the only things she saw and felt in Gabe MacGowan. After the friar interrupted their kiss and Gabe had stepped back, he’d not broken his stare. But Allie recognized something immediately in the depths of those green eyes.
Fear.
Fear of what, she had no idea. Gabe MacGowan was not the type of man who feared much of anything. His entire being radiated confidence, strength, power. She’d noticed it right away, from the second she’d met him at Odin’s.
No, scratch that. To be perfectly honest, she’d sensed that during their short phone conversation.
The briny scent of the sea washed over her as the breeze slipped over the loch, and through the tiny beam of light cast by the moon, the ebb and flow of the tide lapped against the pebbly shores and rocks of Sealladh na Mara. She could see the outlines of the boats anchored close, and across the loch and to the right, the craggy cliff and Gabe’s ancestor’s old castle. She and Jake hadn’t made it up there.
Allie suspected they just might never get to.
Leaning her head against the cool wood of the jamb, Allie continued to stare out. What was she doing here? As soon as she had arrived, she knew Gabe was fighting a losing battle with the Odin’s lot. They had their mind set to keep the ones they loved close by—and that meant doing whatever it took to keep Gabe and Jake from selling Odin’s and leaving the village. She’d been here less than seven days and was pretty sure nothing had changed. So much had happened in the short time she’d been around that there hadn’t been much of an opportunity to have everyone sit down and talk things over—Gabe included.
She highly suspected it wouldn’t happen any time soon. But it certainly needed to. And she’d make it a point to call that meeting to order that next night.
Again, memories hit her of that kiss, of that man, and worse than any of those things, the way he’d made her feel. It wasn’t love—they’d known each other way too little for that. But it was something. A connection.
A connection that went far above attraction.
Allie’s eyes drifted shut, and the last thing on her mind before consciousness shut down was Gabe’s mouth against hers, the way his body trembled so slightly she nearly missed it, and the urgency in his kiss . . .
Chapter 12
The alarm went off and Allie awoke, strangely enough, in the bed. She didn’t remember leaving the alcove, but subconsciously, she must have started to get too cold and moved to the warmth of the duvet.
As she gathered her bearings, her gaze traveled to the fireplace. A nice blaze crackled there, making the room warm and toasty.
She certainly hadn’t done that in her sleep.
Climbing out of bed, Allie gathered clean under-stuff, jeans, her favorite black Raiders of the Lost Ark T-shirt and her toiletries, and crossed the hall to the bathroom. After a quick shower and a fast towel-drying of hair, she pulled a comb through several times, put on her boots, grabbed her peacoat, and headed downstairs. She’d go to Leona’s first, as had been her habit after that first day, and then head back to Odin’s to start on the lunch meal.
She’d already made her mind up to smile, laugh, and do her best to put Gabe at ease about last night. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel obligated. They’d shared a kiss. Okay—it was way more than a kiss. It was something more and Allie couldn’t put her finger on it, yet she was pretty sure Gabe didn’t recognize it. Either way, she’d had enough experience with guys to know Gabe probably would avoid her like the plague this morning. If she laughed and pretended nothing bothered her, maybe he’d loosen up.
Or not.<
br />
Butterflies of nerves hit her stomach as she slipped downstairs. She knew it was always weird, the initial encounter with a person with whom something had happened for the first time. She hadn’t experienced the feeling in quite a long while, but was positive it’d never been as bad as now.
But when she reached the first floor, the very first person she laid eyes on was Laina, Gabe’s mom.
Laina, dressed in a pair of khakis, a dark blue sweater, and sneakers, gave her a big smile. “Ciamar a tha sibh?”
Allie blinked.
With a laugh, Laina patted her arm. “ ’Tis Gaelic, lass. It means How are you?”
Allie smiled in return. “Oh, that’s lovely. And I’m fine, thank you.” She tried to repeat the question in Gaelic but failed miserably.
Laina, though, took it in stride. “Nice try, love, and I’m fine, as well.” She heaved a sigh. “Looks like ’tis me and you for the next couple of days, then, lass. Are ye up to it?”
Allie glanced around. “Where’s Gabe?”
“Oh, he has business to tend in Inverness. He’ll be back by Saturday.”
Wow. She’d expected Gabe to avoid her, but not to the extent of leaving Sealladh na Mara. She forced a smile. “Oh, okay.”
Laina studied Allie. “You’ve really helped him out of a bind, you know. Usually ’tis Wee Mary and Katey runnin’ Odin’s meals. Without you here Gabe would be in a terrible mess, aye?”
Allie smiled. “I’m glad to be of some help.” She inclined her head. “Do you want something from Leona’s? I’m headed there now.”
Laina shook her head. “Och, no, I had me porridge early this morn. Thanks, though.”
With a wave, Allie set off. No sooner had she paid Leona for her pie and coffee and had started off to the wharf than she picked up company.
“I like a woman who can eat. Shows her confidence, methinks. And from what I’ve seen, you’ve loads of it.”
Allie jumped, only because she wasn’t expecting a voice so close. She looked up into the ghostly dark eyes of Captain Catesby.
