Chapter Nine
Anyone else using his first name as freely as Amber did would normally be the recipient of a clear cut down. But every time his name tumbled from her soft, pink lips, one of the links to his soul opened and let her in a little deeper. Not even his lovers knew his name, nor would they have cared to ask.
Names aside, the two of them needed to find some peace until it could be determined if the strength of his shield could surround them both without them touching. The woman holding his hand was stronger than anyone in the room could possibly know. The pain inside of her had the power of an F-5 tornado and was just as destructive. No wonder it had nearly killed her. All that strength would fall like dust in the wind when she realized touching him constantly meant a lack of privacy while bathing…and any number of other activities.
The thought left him smiling, but he knew her reaction wouldn’t be favorable.
“How long are we stuck like this?” Amber lifted her hand.
“I can attempt to break away, keep the shield around us both.”
“Can you do that?”
“Shielding us from the physical, yes. From the mental anguish inside of you? That I don’t know. It’s taken half the night to remove the chatter in there.” He glanced at the top of her head. “I never let you go.”
“You don’t think it’s going to work…letting go and keeping my gift restricted?”
“More curse than gift.”
Her gaze fell to the floor. “My curse to bear, not yours.”
Where had the spunk gone from her voice?
“So you want to give up? Have me let go so you can die in agony?” His words were meant to be harsh and they met his mark.
“I don’t want to give up. I haven’t even had a chance to live.”
“Stop it! Both of you. Don’t talk about dying!” Helen yelled at both of them. “No one is going to die. Not today. This,” she waved a finger between the both of them. “This is temporary. Giles will find a way to save you, Amber. A way for you to move on with your life without holding someone’s hand and without your gift strangling you.” Helen had her hands on her hips now as she glared at him. “And you. You’ll behave, hold her hand, and remember she’s not some floozy you can talk to like you may have other women in the past.”
“I’m not a child,” Amber told Helen.
“No. But we both know you’re as innocent as they come. Ian would never let a man near you let alone sleep in the same bed.” She pointed a finger at Kincaid now. “You need to think about that…and not in a sleazy guy way either. Amber is someone’s daughter, someone’s sister and those someones will have no problem hunting you down, shield or not, and take you out if you so much as harm a hair on her head.”
Simon laid a hand on his hysterical wife’s shoulder. “I don’t think you need to threaten the man, lass. He understands.”
Helen shrugged his hand away and placed it on her abdomen.
“Helen?” Amber’s soothing voice, deep with her Scottish accent, washed over him. “I appreciate your passionate plea. I’m sorry I’ve caused you stress. Rest assured I’m not ready to give up. Gavin and I will figure out a way to cohabit the same space until something more permanent can be figured out.”
“No more talk of dying!”
Amber smiled and tilted her head to the side. “No more talk of dying.”
The room grew silent for a few minutes and then Amber spoke again. “Giles…have you slept?”
Kincaid noticed the fatigue behind his friend’s eyes.
“I can sleep later.”
“You can sleep now,” Amber told him. “We need you sharp. It wouldn’t bode well to have you skim over something important in one of your books because you’re exhausted. Helen…when was the last time you and the baby ate?”
Kincaid glanced at the other woman’s hand resting over her stomach and grinned. Now he understood the emotional outburst. Pregnant woman were the most hormonal and pregnant Druids were even more so.
“We could eat,” Helen said.
“Simon, why don’t you take your wife down to the kitchen and feed her. I know I’m hungry and am looking forward to leaving this room.”
Simon glanced between Kincaid and Amber.
“We’ll be down shortly,” Kincaid assured him.
Once they were alone, he turned toward her. “You did that really well.”
“Did what?”
“Deescalated the situation, put everyone to a task, and took the focus off of you.”
“My mother had five children, and a husband with a temper that matched his ability to strike anyone with lightning. When the grandchildren started coming, the Keep was a volatile brewing pot of emotions and hormones. My mother faced each argument with a calm strength that made all of us try to please her.”
“She never lost control?”
“Of course. But never when it really counted. Not that I saw in any account.”
“It’s a rare quality to have people bend to your will without brute strength or manipulation.”
“I don’t have much in the way of physical strength, I’m afraid.”
It dawned on him then, that her life of seclusion probably limited her ability to do much of anything. “How old are you?” The age in the depths of her eyes exceeded her years, but her innocence said she wasn’t old enough to buy a bottle of wine in this century.
“Nearly thirty.”
Not as young as he thought. “How long have you been isolated?”
“I’ve avoided others for nearly ten years. The last few have kept me apart from my family more times than not.”
“No wonder Helen’s worried about you.”
“I’ve been a burden to them for too long, Gavin. Simon and Helen deserve a good life, not one plagued with me pulling them down. Helen doesn’t often leave the house so she can be here for me. Simon is crazed trying to find a cure. The only person in the house that doesn’t worry about me continually is Mrs. Dawson.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been able to read her completely and didn’t think on it for long with so many other emotions in my head.” She closed her eyes, drew in a big breath. “Now my head is blissfully silent. I feel you there, but nothing is weighing on me.”
Her confession pleased him.
“But it’s temporary. Sooner or later we will have to let go.” She opened her eyes. “When we do, the others can’t know about it. Their worry will make the attempt worse.”
How could she think of others, their emotions, when her own were so fragile one lift of his little finger and her world would crash in. The cauldron of pain, voices, and distress inside her the moment he’d touched her the first time made him physically ill. The thought of that touching her again…no. “I don’t think you’re ready for me to let go.” He knew if he released her now, the walls around her would crumble, and the pain would slam into her.
“I don’t believe I am either. Which places us in a very precarious situation.”
“Is that so?”
She lifted her chin, a move he noted on her more than once when it seemed she was trying to show courage she didn’t have. “Aye. You see I have need of the bathroom and I refuse to walk around in a nightgown any longer. While you may have intimate knowledge of a woman’s body, I’m painfully naive about a man’s.” The color in Amber’s cheeks blossomed as she spoke.
A grin played on his lips but he didn’t let it show. “I’ve fought among men in your time. Some throw off their kilts in battle to save the plaid.”
“Some do. But I’ve only seen such things from afar. Or my nephews, but…well…”
“Amber?” He said her name softly, repeated it until she looked directly at him.
Embarrassment filled her eyes.
“I’ll close my eyes.”
She smiled then, and the effect hit him in the gut and spread heat lower. This was the look he wanted to see from her the moment he’d noticed her portrait on the wall of MacCoinni
ch Keep. The haunting expression in that painting dissipated with a smile…one that reached her eyes.
“I’ll close my eyes, too.” The relief in her voice was comical.
“I’m not shy, m’lady. Look all you want. Consider me a live human anatomy lesson.”
Her eyes grew wider. When he laughed, she grinned.
“You’re teasing me.”
He winked. “Maybe a little.”
They scooted off the bed together and walked around the room while she gathered a change of clothing. She passed over her multitude of dresses and skirts and chose a pair of jeans and a pull over shirt to change into. Using the bathroom proved a little difficult as they both held a foot or ankle while the other used the facilities.
As he promised, Kincaid kept his eyes shut while she dressed and, although he’d given her permission to look, she turned her face away and squeezed her eyes closed when his own needs called.
“I have never shared a bathroom with a man.”
“They don’t have bathrooms in your time,” he reminded her.
“Don’t be so sure. Lizzy, Simon’s mother, was determined to have water piped in. There’s a hidden closet in each wing with a primitive toilet.”
She picked up a brush and attempted to pull it through her hair. “This is difficult with one hand,” she told him.
He came up behind her and lifted her shirt until the skin of her waist was exposed. He placed his palm against her and freed her hand. Amber smiled at him in the mirror and quickly brushed her hair before pulling the bulk of it back in a tie.
He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm when they left the bedroom for the first time. All the while Kincaid felt a smile, a grin…or full-on happiness swimming inside of him. He couldn’t help but wonder if those were Amber’s emotions or his. Because he couldn’t remember a time in his life when he felt this at ease.
****
Selma shoved her hand into the bag of chips, flipped the channel on the TV, and plopped her feet up on Jake’s coffee table. She checked the time on the clock ticking on the mantel of his fireplace and knew he’d be home soon. He’d probably grumble about her letting herself in, but he’d get over it. She took great pleasure in pushing Jake’s buttons. The man was too uptight for his own good. He’d have an early heart attack at this rate. Selma made it a personal goal to get the man to lighten up and take himself less seriously.
Besides, she didn’t have any friends in LA and she didn’t want to eat dinner alone again. She could have made her way to Mrs. Dawson’s home, but with Amber’s health in such a dire state, she didn’t think that option was the best.
The sound of Jake’s car pulling into the driveway prompted her to turn up the mindless show she was watching, and dig into the bag again.
As expected, Jake stepped around the corner with his service side arm pointed toward her, saw her and dropped the muzzle of the gun to the floor. “What the…”
Unaffected, she placed both hands in the air and pulled a breathy voice from deep within her and said, “Please don’t shoot, officer.”
He growled and holstered his gun. “Breaking into a cop’s house isn’t smart, Matilda.”
His pet name was growing on her.
“I didn’t break in.”
“Oh, I don’t remember giving you a key.” He stepped around the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and switched the set off.
She waved a chip in his direction as she spoke. “I have my witchy ways. No need to break anything to get in here.” She popped the chip in her mouth and made more noise than necessary before swallowing it.
He tugged off his belt that held all his cop toys and laid it on the table. “You know, I think I liked it better when you lived a thousand miles away.” There was no heat in his words.
“Your life was boring before you met me.”
“I’m a cop. My life is never boring.”
“Predictable then.”
She knew his friendship pool was shallow and that Todd, his partner who now lived several hundred years back in time, was his best friend, almost like a brother.
He spread his legs in a typical officer pose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here, Selma?”
She swept her feet from the coffee table, tossed the bag of chips in their place, and started toward the kitchen. “I thought I’d disturb your boring, predictable evening and convince you to join me for dinner.”
He followed her into his kitchen. “Why would we do that? We don’t like each other, remember?”
“Call it an exercise in patience…or better yet, we can attempt to remove the stick you have up your ass. Compromise is good for you.”
“Compromise is important when two people give a rat-shit about each other. We don’t fall into that category. And I don’t have a stick up my ass.”
She opened up his nearly empty refrigerator and poked her head inside. “Yes you do. Geez, Jake, your cardiologist must love you.” She removed a brown box with leftover pizza and tossed it on the counter.
“Hey, that’s still good.”
She opened the lid, grabbed a rock-hard slice of pepperoni and sausage, and tapped it against the counter with a solid thud. “I’ve had week old bagels that were fresher than this.” She dug back into the science experiment Jake called a refrigerator and took out two beers. “Open these,” she told him as she thrust them in his direction. “I’ll figure out if there’s anything salvageable in here.”
Jake grabbed the beer before they dropped to the floor. “You know how to cook?”
She found a head of lettuce that looked workable and a couple of potatoes. “And I don’t even need my cauldron.” In the freezer she found a couple of chicken breasts…I can work with this.
Jake leaned a hip against the counter and twisted off the caps on the beer. He handed one to her and tilted his back for a drink.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he grew used to having her in his space. He might not be smiling, but that stick was beginning to wiggle free of his anus. “Pots and pans?”
He pointed his beer to the right of the oven.
She found what she needed and placed it on the stove.
Jake pushed away from the counter, taking his beer with him. “I’m going to shower. Try not to burn my house down.”
His snarky comment put a smile on her face.
Chapter Ten
It’s just a hand!
Amber flexed her fingers in Gavin’s without letting go. He stood over her by at least eight inches and took up more than half his side of the stairway as they descended into the main floors of the Manor. The space felt bigger somehow. Maybe the lack of voices in her head added to the space as they past the many rooms of the house en route to the kitchen, but the world was different.
The smile on Amber’s face was difficult to shake and she couldn’t remember another time where she wanted to close her eyes and simply listen to the bones of the house creek and settle.
“Everything feels new to you,” Gavin said before they rounded the final hall to the back of the house.
“’Tis hard to describe. Every step down was met with pain before.” She glanced up the stairs. “Now they are just steps. The pain… it was—”
“You don’t need to describe it. I felt it the moment I took your hand. You’re a strong woman, Amber MacCoinnich.”
Her smile fell. “I had given up.”
Gavin squeezed her hand. “I know that, too.”
The kitchen buzzed with Helen moving around the space and cooking for what looked like a small army.
“I didn’t know what you wanted so I made a little of everything. It’s nearly noon, and eggs didn’t feel right. I have soup and sandwiches…salad.” The smell of bacon made Amber’s stomach growl.
She was half way through her chicken and bacon sandwich when Mrs. Dawson made it into the kitchen.
“There you are, lass,” Simon greeted the oldest member of the house by pulling out a chair for her and kissing h
er cheek.
Mrs. Dawson, the big flirt, blushed and smiled while accepting a cup of tea from Helen.
“I’m surprised we didn’t see you when Amber woke up. Surely you heard her.”
Mrs. Dawson grinned at Gavin and Amber with a wink. “Amber was bound to be upset waking next to a stranger, but she’s smart, and would realize fighting was useless. No need for me to rise before nature intended.”
“Does wisdom always come with age?” Gavin asked.
Mrs. Dawson pointed a wrinkled finger in Gavin’s direction. “Are you saying I’m old, Mr. Kincaid.”
For a moment no one said anything and then Mrs. Dawson started to laugh. “You are too easy,” she told them.
Giles joined them several hours later, the lines on his face had smoothed over with the sleep he’d managed. He told them he was ready to tackle the library. All the while Gavin held her hand or rested his hand intimately on her waist when she needed all ten fingers. There really was no room for embarrassment, and Amber refused to allow the way she was raised to cloud her judgment now. It’s just a hand, she told herself. A hand that sometimes gripped her waist with warm fingers and sent unfamiliar shivers up her spine, but…only a hand.
At one point, she felt Helen’s eyes on her, her worry pushed through Gavin’s barrier. Instead of calling Helen on her thoughts, she turned to her temporary twin. “Gavin? Would you mind terribly if we took a walk?”
“Outside?”
With the sun on her face and the wind in her hair…how long had that been? “Preferably.”
“There are no wards protecting the property.”
“And no need for such during this time. Please.” For the first time since she’d arrived in this century, she didn’t need to wear the cape over her shoulders, and the thought of the elements on her skin made her smile. The worry of the neighbors emotions overshadowing her own wasn’t a concern…she only had to hear the birds in the trees and smell the fragrance of the flowers.
Gavin exchanged glances with Simon. “Fine, but we need to retrieve my weapons from your room.”
Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels Book Five) Page 8
