Rogue on the Rollaway

by MacLeod, Shannon

  “Nay, lady,” he assured her. “I’m still not a dream.” He tagged along behind her into the kitchen. Ignoring him as best she could, she pulled a plastic canister filled with strong ground coffee from the pantry and got a pot brewing in short order. He stood by silently and watched, but touched her on the arm when she went to put the coffee away. Without a word, she offered the container to him and he took it, raising it to his face to sniff. His expression was rapturous. “Does it taste as good as it smells?”

  “Better,” she replied. Putting the coffee away, she set about pulling out a frying pan and plates. “We’re limited on our choices for breakfast. I was able to rescue the eggs from you last night, so I think I’ll be able to whip up an omelet if that would be okay. I’ll take that as a yes,” she said when his only response was a blank look. She pointed him to grab a seat then unable to wait for the pot to finish brewing poured them both coffee, splashing a little in the process. “How do you take it?”

  “Take it?” he echoed, holding out his hands.

  “No. Half and half, sugar… Never mind,” she said, adding a small amount of both to each cup. “Careful, it’s hot,” she said, handing him an oversized MGM Studios mug. “Was there no coffee where you came from?”

  He glanced down at the mug, smoothing his fingers over the slick surface. “I had heard of such, but had never seen it for myself,” he admitted, taking a sip. “It’s good.”

  Moving with quiet efficiency Colleen chopped up the ham and cheese, added them to the entire carton of beaten eggs and poured the whole bowlful into the waiting skillet. While that cooked, she threw some wheat bread slices in the toaster. When the omelet began to bubble around the edges of the pan, Colleen flipped the eggy mixture and before much more time had elapsed, set a steaming plate of breakfast down before him. “Try that,” she instructed, refilling his coffee and setting out butter and strawberry preserves for the toast.

  His eyes closed in sheer bliss as he took his first bite. “Never have I tasted anything so wonderful.” That was the last comment he made until every scrap of food was gone, and his plate wiped clean with the last of the buttered toast.

  “Remind me to keep my fingers away from you while you’re eating,” she joked, pouring him another cup of coffee and taking his empty plate. She turned away, setting the pot back on the burner. Rinsing the plate and putting it in the dishwasher took only a few seconds, but when she turned her attention back to the table he held out his empty cup for her.

  “More?” Faolan asked. “Then we should mayhap make plans for this day, although I must say we’re getting a late start; the sun rose hours ago but I dinna feel it proper to enter yer chambers to wake ye. We’ll have to find more food–last night’s fare was delicious–since it appears that I’ve eaten most of yers, and more suitable clothing for me. This garb feels strange on my skin, although ye are most kind for having provided them for me, milady. Please doona think me ungrateful. I truly am, ye know.” Oblivious to her shocked expression, he continued on without even pausing to take a breath. “Is there someplace nearby where we can attend to our needs? I looked out the windows before ye rose and this has to be the strangest looking village I’ve come across in all my travels. I doona think I’ve ever seen cottages stacked atop one another before and not a blade of grass in sight, but still I’m looking forward to getting out and exploring it. I have a few questions I’d like to…”

  All of this came out in a rapid rush of words, and Colleen took a good look at the wide, bright blue eyes of her accidental guest. She immediately plucked the empty cup from his hands. “No more caffeine for you. You’re cheerful enough for this time of day. And for future reference,” she sniffed, “my day doesn’t start until after I’ve had my coffee.”

  Lunging playfully for the mug which she held behind her back, he flashed her an irrepressible grin that made her knees wobble. He laughed. “So now that ye’ve had yer coffee. What are we about today, Princess?”

  She placed his cup in the sink then fingered her chin in deep thought as she reclaimed her chair. “First things first. Money. You can’t just buy things with gold. We’ll need to find a goldsmith to convert them into currency. There must be thousands of dollars here,” she said, trailing her fingers across the small mound of gold coins still on the table from the night before. “Then the mall, I think. I remember JC Penney’s has a big and tall men’s section, and since you’re incredibly large…”

  “I am not,” Faolan countered defensively.

  “Yes, you are. You’ll see when we go out. You’re positively immense,” she assured him.

  He arched one dark eyebrow. “Ah…it pleases me that ye noticed, Princess,” he purred in a silky voice.

  When the arrogant, masculine smile lit up his handsome face, she realized what she had said and blushed scarlet at the unintended innuendo. Stabbing a slender finger at his chest Colleen snapped, “That’s as far as this conversation is going.” But she had noticed. How could she not, with those sweats stretched so tight across that fine sculpted butt, and she didn’t even want to think about the heavy bulge in front… She shook her head to clear the tantalizing images and muttered under her breath. “My head is going to explode.”

  Faolan reared back in his chair. “Truly?” he gasped.

  “No,” she growled the word, “but you are seriously damaging my calm.” Leaping up from the table, she busied herself by rinsing the rest of the dishes then addressed him again, “After that, grocery store. We’re going to need some ground rules too. No wandering off to look at stuff and you can’t tell anyone where you’re from. They’ll lock both of us up on general principle. There may be more, so we’ll just have to wing it and see how this goes. Got it?”

  Faolan beamed. “Got…it.”

  “Good.” It was just a short shopping trip. It’d be fine. “I’ll just get dressed. Be right back,” Colleen said over her shoulder, heading for her bedroom and locking the door behind her. What could possibly go…she shook her head wildly before she could complete the dooming prophetic thought.

  When she emerged minutes later, the unmistakable expression of disapproval on Faolan’s face nearly sent her scampering for cover. “What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.

  “Yer attired as a man,” he said flatly, his brows furrowed. “Is this how women of yer time dress? I thought the gown ye wore last eve most fetching,” he added in a broad hint.

  Colleen looked down at her faded jeans and t-shirt. “That was a nightgown. I can’t go out in public wearing my pajamas. Women wear pants now, Faolan. We vote and have jobs, too.” She stepped closer and glared up at him in open challenge. “We take care of ourselves. We don’t need a man to do it for us.”

  The look he gave her was so heated it stole her breath. “Were ye my woman, ye would want for nothing. And ye’d wear those trews only for me.” His eyes dropped to her breasts straining against the t-shirt then lower still, pointedly taking in the curve of her hips hugged by the worn denim. “Only for me,” he echoed softly. He snapped out of his trance with a vicious shake of his head. “We should go, then, if ye willna change into proper women’s garb.”

  Colleen exhaled in a rush, unaware she had been holding her breath. “Yeah, maybe we should,” she agreed.

  The next installment of Colleen’s Excellent Adventure came only moments later down in the parking lot. She sat in the driver’s seat of her car, shaking her head in exasperation. “You’ve got to get in, Faolan. We can’t get clothes for you unless you try them on.” He didn’t budge. She sighed. “There won’t be any more food unless we go get it,” she added for extra persuasion.

  Faolan made an odd picture with his tight t-shirt, too short sweatpants and heavy leather boots. His body language, however–arms folded stubbornly across his broad chest with his feet braced apart in an unyielding stance–told Colleen exactly what frame of mind the big man was in. “I willna be foldin’ myself into that…that…whatever ye called it,” he growled, his burr thickening.

&nbs
p; “It’s an Acura. Come on,” she coaxed, patting the seat. “It’s a lot of fun, and there’s no way we’re walking and carrying groceries all the way from the store. Please?” She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and immediately realized she had bitten off more than she could chew. His reaction to her smile was…well, flattering if she had to pick a word. The scowl on his face faded, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a tight smile. Looking over the interior with trepidation, he pressed his lips together in a firm line and eased his large bulk into the sports car. She waited until he was completely inside then leaned over him to fasten his seat belt. He flinched when it closed with a loud click.

  “Relax, you might like it,” she said, trying to put him at ease.

  He gave her a jerky nod. When the engine roared to life, tiny drops of sweat beaded up on his face. She started out slow and after a mile or so snuck a glance over at him only to find he was watching everything with a wide grin. His hair flew as his head whipped from side to side. “Och, lass, ’tis amazing. All this.” He indicated with a wide sweep of his hand. A throaty growl announced the motorcycle that pulled up behind them then zoomed past in the left lane. The baffled look on Faolan’s face was almost comical in its extreme. “What the blathering hell is that?” he whispered, pointing to the sleek machine commandeered by a heavy, leather clad man sporting numerous tattoos, black wraparound sunglasses and a scruffy beard.

  Colleen yanked his arm back down. “Don’t point,” she said with a tsk of disapproval. “It’s a motorcycle, like a bicycle with a motor. Really fast.”

  He frowned. “What’s a bi-cycle?”

  Shaking her head in frustration, she tried again. “Like a car with…no insides and…only two wheels. And no motor.” She still wasn’t getting through, but when he didn’t ask any more questions she gave up and breathed a sigh of relief. Faolan’s eyes glowed with inherent masculine appreciation for the powerful machine as he watched bike and rider disappear further down the highway. “I feel as if I’m having the strangest dream,” he mumbled.

  You’re not the one having the weird dream, Sport, she thought, jerking in alarm when the radio blared on at max volume. “Faolan!” she screeched, clawing for the selector to turn it back down. Undaunted, he twisted knobs and pushed buttons while she divided her attention between driving and what he was doing. Thank heavens there was nobody else on the road, she thought, swerving and smacking his hand when he turned on the windshield wipers for the third time. “Quit that. I’m trying to drive,” she scolded before laughing in spite of herself.

  He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. When she gave him a shy smile in return, his eyes lit up. “May I steer it?”

  “No,” she gasped. “You…you have to…you don’t know how.”

  Faolan laughed. “Then mayhap ye will have to teach me. I shall have to find something to teach ye in return,” he said, purring each syllable. He deliberately caught his full lower lip in his teeth and let it slide out…very…slowly.

  Without another word, Colleen turned up the air conditioner full blast, pointed one of the vents at him then tried to focus her full attention on the road ahead.

  * * * *

  They stopped at two different pawn shops to sell the gold coins. As per Colleen’s implicit instructions, Faolan waited in the car. He didn’t like it one little bit. What kind of world was this where women wander about unescorted, dressed as men and leaving naught to the imagination? He worried while he watched strangers go in and out the store, eyeing each suspiciously. To distract himself, he thought instead of the lush curves her strange clothing revealed then thought of those curves hidden away under the soft, touchable gown she wore last eve. He swore under his breath when his blood quickened in response to the entrancing image and he shifted in his seat to better accommodate his rising interest. The…he fumbled for the odd word she had used…sweats hid little, he observed with a rueful grin, but perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing to whet her appetites for what he could offer her.

  He paused in his thinking and frowned. Why was there no man with her? Perhaps she was still maiden… Nay. He shook his head. Not likely at her age. She was at least a score and five. Widowed, perhaps. Aye, that must be it.

  His musings were interrupted when Colleen opened the car door and fell inside with an excited squeal. “Look at this,” she breathed, “there’s over three thousand dollars here.”

  “Will that be enough for yer needs, Princess?” Faolan asked, staring at the strange colored papers she was waving about like a wild thing.

  “More than enough. To the mall,” she crowed.

  * * * *

  To her utter surprise, Faolan proved to have more fashion sense with the unfamiliar garments than she would have ever thought possible. With the assistance of a nonplussed salesman, Faolan was soon outfitted with all the basics–shoes, socks, jeans, shirts, even several sets of silk pajamas for lounging around in. There was one rough spot when the clerk tried to solve the boxers vs. briefs dilemma and seeing the stubborn set of the overwhelmed Highlander’s jaw, Colleen stepped in to rescue both men. “Two packs of each,” she said, steering Faolan away toward the accessories department before mayhem could ensue.

  Two hours later, they lugged all the shopping bags to the car and stowed them in the trunk. “You look really nice,” Colleen observed with a smile. The crimson polo shirt hugged every sculpted muscle on his chest and the black jeans rode low on his hips. The empty sporran now rested on a new leather belt. He sported gray Nike cross trainers and he kept gazing at those with wide eyes.

  “I look different, that’s of a certain. Yer approval pleases me.” He gave his new shoes an experimental bounce. “These are tighter fitting, yet more comfortable than my boots. Nowhere to hide a blade, though,” he observed, turning his foot from side to side.

  Heaving an internal sigh of relief that he was unarmed, Colleen decided to ignore that last comment. “Are you hungry?” she asked, then answered her own question. “Of course you are. Let’s go back to the food court,” she sobered abruptly. “I wasn’t thinking. Do you want to go back inside? It’s not too overwhelming for you?”

  He took her by the hand and pulled her close. “As long as ye stay by my side, I’ll be fine,” he smiled. A shiver ran through her at his nearness, and he did not release her hand as they walked back to the store entrance.

  They spent the afternoon walking the mall, and Colleen realized after the first few minutes how very much she took for granted in her life. Faolan’s sharp eyes missed nothing and he asked incessant questions about the different things he saw.

  He found the makeup displays mind boggling and like a child pressed his nose against the window at the pet store to watch fat little puppies tumbling over each other in the display window. A kiosk selling radio control cars caught his attention for a while, as did the smoke shop selling aromatic pipe tobacco, but by far the thing Faolan found most mesmerizing was the elaborate double decker carousel near the food court. Boasting all manner of fantastical creatures painted in garish colors, the ride was filled to capacity with happy, shrieking children of varying ages. With the pain of a long lost memory etched on his face, he leaned against the decorative fence, staring with open longing at parents holding their tots as they clung to the reins of their rising and falling steeds.

  When he opened his mouth to speak, Colleen leaned in closer to hear him over the din. “My young ones would have loved this,” he nodded toward the merry go round. “They used to beg rides up on my shoulders.” A faint smile crossed his lips. “They’re naught but dust now, I reckon.”

  The deep anguish in his voice grabbed hold of her heart and gave it a merciless twist. “Do you know what became of your oldest son?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

  He winced. “I ne’er saw him again,” Faolan said, shaking his head. “I wrote to him on my travels, of course. Sent coin and gifts whenever I could, but I knew he was being well taken care of. Once it became clear I was no
longer aging, I couldna dwell overlong in one place. I sent word to my family I had fallen in battle, and ceased using my clan name after a few years altogether.”

  Colleen tilted her head, her interest piqued. “What was your clan name?”

  He squared his shoulders and his chin tilted up with pride. “Stewart,” he said, a faint smile of remembrance on his lips. “My given name is John, but from birth my family called me Faolan. It means little wolf,” he grinned then shrugged. “Not so little now, though, being as how I’m positively immense,” he quipped, mimicking her earlier tone and lightening their mood in the process. “MacIntyre was the clan name of my grandmother’s people.”

  “Was your family well off? You seem pretty…I don’t know…educated to be from the Dark Ages. I mean, the medieval period,” she asked as tactfully as she could.

  “Well enough, I suppose,” he hedged, his seriousness returning. “My father held a position in government, which I imagine passed to Sawney upon his death. I was a second son,” he explained further, “and second sons were expected to make their own way in the world. I was fortunate to receive the education I have.” Colleen rested her hand on his arm and he covered it with his own large one. “Shall we press on?” he said, shaking off the melancholy.

  “We shall,” she answered with a warm smile.

  They looked in the windows at nearly every store they passed, and Faolan listened to her emphatic warning about not wandering off–except once, to her abject horror. Colleen had let go of his hand for only a moment to sneak a peek at her watch and looked up to find–just that quick–he had vanished. She glanced around frantically and sighed with relief to see him standing open mouthed in front of…Victoria’s Secret. She darted to his side and tugged at his hand, but he refused to budge. “Faolan, why don’t we–”

  “Go inside? At this very moment, I canna think of a single thing I’d want more, Princess,” he interrupted, enveloping her small hand in his and dragging her inside the store like a reluctant toddler. Colleen dug in her heels and whimpered with dismay, but quickly realized resistance was futile as he pulled her behind him with no effort whatsoever.