Like a kid given free rein in a candy store, Faolan didn’t have a clue which way to go first. He spun around, gaping open mouthed at the large pictures of the scantily clad models lining the walls. A display of lace push up bras caught his eye first, and he trailed his long fingers down the thin straps while he studied the closures.
Faolan tilted his head in amazement at the plastic mannequins clad in silk camisoles, thigh high stockings and thong underwear. He slid his palm across a torso clad in a faux leather bustier, and sniffed the tester bottles of perfume with a look of rapture on his face. Fast approaching her wit’s end, Colleen was on the verge of running from the store screaming when the first salesgirl approached. “Can I…help you find…something?” she asked him in a breathy sigh.
Colleen bristled at the pushy sales woman’s innuendo laced offer then scolded herself for being…so…overprotective because…he’s new here, she assured herself. She blinked with shock when her little internal voice added and I saw him first so back the hell off in the cattiest tone she’d ever heard herself use. “Grip. I needs one,” she muttered. When she saw the young woman’s hungry gaze drop from Faolan’s chest to his…his…no, that can’t…, she thought with a frown. He’s got his shirt tail or something bunched up down there.
Faolan paid little attention to the smitten woman while he continued to browse, keeping a firm grip on Colleen’s hand. “What did ye call what ye wore last night?” he asked her.
“Nightgown,” Colleen squeaked in a barely audible whisper. She glanced around the floor of the store, hoping against hope a large hole would open up for her to jump inside and disappear into. “Um…why don’t we go get cappuccinos from Starbucks? You love coffee and I could sure use a cup. Right now,” she added through clenched teeth.
It was as if she hadn’t even spoken. “What the lady said,” Faolan nodded and the hovering clerk noticed Colleen for the first time. With an injured sniff, the saleswoman led them to the back of the store where the longer gowns were displayed.
“You’re not listening to me,” Colleen whispered frantically. “We need to leave.”
“Aye, I’m not listening, and nay, we’re not leaving,” Faolan said with a cheeky grin. With the same meticulous care he used in selecting his own clothing, he chose several long silk tees, one in hunter green, a second in royal blue, and the third in a rich crimson, each with a matching wrapper and tie. “I would see ye in such gowns, lady,” he said softly, curling his finger under her chin to lift her face to his. When she did not speak, he leaned down and brushed his lips over her ear. “It would please me to do this for ye.”
Colleen’s knees nearly buckled from the sensual caress of his warm breath, but she managed to hold herself together long enough to stammer, “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
Faolan chuckled, a husky sound that turned her blood to a thick, molten liquid searing her veins as it ran through her. “I seem to recall telling ye that were ye mine, ye’d want for nothing,” he said.
“But I’m not yours,” she reminded him, rubbing the luxurious fabric of the gown between her fingers. She couldn’t rationalize buying things for herself like this, but it felt so soft and feminine, and so pretty…
Faolan pushed the gowns into her arms and the challenging look he gave her spoke volumes. Yet, it said.
Several hundred dollars later, Colleen managed to extricate Faolan–who was having way too much fun in her estimation–from the clutches of the extraordinarily attentive sales staff. She had to admit, though, it was gratifying to have the full attentions of such a gorgeous man with so many young model-esque lovelies vying for his notice. She wasn’t immune to the envious looks she got from other women in the mall either, nor the way the men subconsciously stepped aside when Faolan passed, giving the large, powerful man plenty of room.
The food court was filled to overflowing with no open tables in sight. Rising up on tiptoe, Colleen scanned around for any empty seats. Seeing none, she turned her gaze to Faolan and saw he had gone very pale. Realizing at once her guest was uncomfortable in the clamorous setting, she went with Plan B. “It’s too crazy in here today,” she shrugged. “Let’s pick up something at the grocery store and eat at home.” When he agreed without the slightest hesitation, she knew she had been right about his anxiety. Slipping a comforting arm through his, she led him away from the noisy area and out of the mall.
The trip to the grocery story was every bit as bizarre as she anticipated. Faolan was so confounded by the myriad of culinary choices he hardly spoke at all. He definitely had a sweet tooth, she noted with a smile, watching him toss an assortment of cookies into the cart. By the time they were ready to leave, the cart was in imminent danger of overflowing. Faolan added whatever caught his fancy to the pile, open to trying nearly anything. At the back of the store, however, the smooth trip hit an unforeseen speed bump. The meat counter distressed him to no end. “How long have these animals been dead, lady?” he whispered, his face aghast. “It canna be good to have meat sitting so long without being salted.”
Now there was a sobering thought she had never entertained. Explaining as best she could about food processing, Colleen added several thick sirloin steaks to the cart. She began making a mental list of things he might like to try and offered him a bright smile as she pushed the cart toward the deli counter. “We have to figure out what you can eat while I’m at work that doesn’t require cooking. I’m not sure I’m ready to turn you loose in the kitchen yet. Let’s check the–”
He clutched at her arm and whirled her to face him. “Leaving me at home while ye work? I think not. I go with ye,” he told her, his voice implacable.
Colleen got a visual of Faolan helping out in the gift shop and fought down the rising hysteria. “You can’t go with me, but I won’t be far away. I do this every day. I’ll be fine,” she assured him. Her voice dropped down to a low whisper. “Look, I know in your time things were different, and women were kept home and taken care of. It’s not like that anymore. I don’t need protecting.”
“But–” Faolan began.
“No buts,” Colleen interrupted. “I can’t just bring someone to work with me. I’ll get fired.”
“I like this not,” he snapped testily, “but ’tis obvious ye’ll not be dissuaded. What am I to do with myself while yer gone, Princess?”
“I’ve got a couple of ideas about that,” she said with a mysterious smile.
After wrestling all the bags of groceries and new clothes upstairs–Faolan doing the vast majority of the wresting and dropping thinly veiled hints about that “wee mouthful of egg and cheese not being nearly enough to sustain a grown man for the whole blathering day”–it was nearly dark. Colleen announced dinner would be the next order of business, and they grilled the steaks on the condo balcony. Colleen added baked potatoes heavy with butter and sour cream and a tossed salad to the menu with Dutch apple pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert. “I have to say you’re a pleasure to cook for.” She giggled as he ate with gusto. “You’re not tired of anything I make.”
“Yer a fine cook,” he nodded, his cheeks bulging. “So tell me about yerself, Princess. I told ye of my family–tell me of yers.”
“Not much to tell, really,” Colleen shrugged, spearing a tomato wedge and popping it into her mouth. “I grew up in a small town in Georgia, went to college in Atlanta to study marketing. I met Marc in my freshman year, and we got married the year after. He was an art history major and a senior, so when he got the museum job right after his graduation I dropped out to move down here with him. We both had to work to pay the bills, so I didn’t get to finish my degree. The marriage didn’t work out, and we got a divorce. More iced tea?” she asked.
“Please.” Faolan nodded, holding his glass for her. “Do ye still have yer parents?”
She shook her head. “I lost them both my first year of college. They died within a year of each other. Cancer.” At his puzzled expression, she went on to explain. “It’s a disease that eats
at you from the inside. There’s no cure for it. It’s sad. They were always so healthy, kept putting off the annual checkups they were supposed to have. It would have saved their lives.”
“To their memory,” he murmured, raising his glass in toast.
Smiling at the thoughtful gesture, she nodded in acknowledgement. “And to the memory of your family,” she added, touching her glass to his. “I have an older sister, but we don’t talk much,” she continued after taking a sip of tea. “She lives in Texas, that’s west from here.”
“Texas,” he repeated, giving her a tentative smile. “I’m looking forward to learning more about yer world.”
When dinner was over, they cleared the table and wrapped up the leftovers. After observing for a moment to see how it was done, he took over washing the dishes much to her surprise. “For a medieval guy, you’re pretty open minded. I would have thought you’d say this was woman’s work,” Colleen teased.
Faolan shrugged. “I grew up in a household with a mother, four sisters, and a gaggle of servants, but my brother and I always helped in the kitchens. There are some who would say all of this is woman’s work, but I am an impatient man.” He stacked the plates in the sink and began to rinse. “The faster the work is done, the sooner ye show me this surprise ye’ve been teasing me with all afternoon.”
She giggled as he flicked the water from his fingers at her. Peering into the sink she said, “The serving platters must still be on the porch. I’ll go–”
“Allow me, lady,” Faolan said, drying his hands. With a gallant bow he headed for the sliding glass door to the balcony, disappearing through the long vertical blinds. Colleen finished up in the kitchen, wiping down the table and counters. She was finished before it occurred to her that Faolan was taking a long time retrieving the dirty plates. After draping the kitchen towel over the oven handle, she followed his trail to the porch.
She stepped out onto the small balcony to find him gazing up into the nighttime sky and slid the door closed behind her. “What are you looking at?” she asked, joining him at the railing.
“Where are yer stars, Princess?” he asked quietly.
Startled, she glanced up at the artificially lit night sky. “With all the streetlights and signs, they’re hard to see, but I’m sure they’re still there.”
Without a sound, he moved behind her and placed his large hands on her shoulders, then ran them slowly down her arms and grasped her hands. His broad chest pressed against her back, and subconsciously she leaned back into him. “Were we in my time, Princess, I would have hunted our dinner and cooked it over an open fire, and when ye had eaten yer fill I would spread my plaid and lay ye down under the stars,” he murmured in a deep, smoky voice. He dropped a soft kiss on top of her head. “Then afterward…” He placed another kiss at the nape of her slender neck. “…I would hold ye close in my arms and keep ye safe while ye slept.”
Colleen gasped, and a delicious shiver ran through her body as the heat of his nearness seeped into her skin. He must have felt it too, for his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. His other hand cupped her chin and tilted her face up. He slowly lowered his lips to hers but the second before they touched, she became aware of an insistent ringing noise.
His head jerked up and his entire body tensed. “What’s that sound?” he whispered, pulling her even tighter to him in a protective gesture she was certain was a…a…natural reflex, nothing more. “Doorbell,” Colleen choked out. “Someone’s at the door.”
Saving me from doing something I’d probably regret, she thought, but not before another snide little internal voice chimed in with whoever it is could have waited just one more moment though. “I should get that,” she said, pulling out of his embrace and darting inside before he could stop her.
She rose and peeked through the keyhole. Sandy waited with a heavy casserole dish covered in foil, and Colleen watched her ring the doorbell again with her elbow. The plastic blinds rattled again and she whipped around to see Faolan standing directly behind her, all of his senses trained on the door. “It’s okay, it’s a friend. Sssh,” she mouthed. She motioned him aside and cracked open the door a couple of inches.
“Sandy! How are you?” she asked, her voice just a tad too bright as she peeked around the door’s edge.
Sandy eyed her suspiciously. “I’m fine, thanks,” she said slowly. “Made an extra pan of lasagna, thought you might want some.” When her friend didn’t take the hint, she added, “It’s a little heavy. Mind if I bring it inside?”
“No. Yes! I mean, I’ll take it. It’s nice of you to think of me, I really appreciate it…”
“You’re acting weird. What’s going on in there?” Sandy asked, standing on tiptoe to peer past Colleen’s shoulder into the apartment.
“Nothing. I was just–” Her heart thudded to a stop when Sandy’s eyes widened to an alarming degree, her gaze rising inch by inch to stop well over the top of Colleen’s head. Oh… hell.
“Uh…where’d you get that?” Sandy asked in an awe filled voice.
“Doona keep yer friend standing outside, Colleen,” Faolan chided, his voice shaking with barely disguised laughter. “Allow me to help ye with that.” He pulled open the door and took the dish from Sandy, whose lower jaw joined her shoes on the floor.
Colleen gave a long, resigned sigh. “Please, come in,” she said, stepping aside so her awestruck friend could enter.
Sandy’s gaze followed Faolan as he disappeared into the kitchen with the dish. “Who the hell is that?” she whispered, gesturing with a jerk of her head.
“Long story,” Colleen whispered back, closing the door.
Faolan rejoined the two moments later. “I put the dish in the refrigerator for ye,” he said, the r’s rolling softly. “The coffee’s nearly ready. Would ye care to be joining us for a cup?” he asked. He gave Colleen a sly smile, his dark blue eyes fairly dancing with mischief.
“I’m sure she doesn’t–” Colleen said just as Sandy gushed, “I’d love to.”
With a broad smile and an inviting sweep of his arm, Faolan turned and went back into the kitchen. Colleen smacked her palm to her face when her exuberant friend fell immediately into step behind him like he was the Scottish Pied Piper.
Colleen froze in the doorway when she saw the kitchen table, her eyes wide in shock. Three coffee mugs, spoons and napkins had already been laid out. One of her good china bread and butter plates laden with artfully arranged shortbread cookies had been placed in the center of one of her grandmother’s lace doilies. She turned a disbelieving gaze to Faolan. “How the hell did you do that?” she whispered frantically.
Faolan studiously ignored her, smiling as he picked up the steaming coffee pot. “’Tis a pleasure to meet a friend of Colleen’s.”
Sandy’s gaze flickered over to Colleen in response. “I didn’t know you were expecting company,” she whispered, taking a seat at the table then adding a little louder, “I’m Sandy Jasko, Colleen’s next door neighbor. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”
Faolan poured the rich, aromatic coffee for the three of them before setting the pot back on the burner. “Faolan MacIntyre, at yer service. I’m a…friend of Colleen’s grandmother. Will ye be joining us, my dear?” He held the high backed chair out for Colleen, still skulking in the doorway. With a wary glance up at him, she accepted the proffered seat. He took the empty chair next to her, scooting it over until his thigh brushed against hers under the table. Startled at the contact, she jerked her chair a few inches away from him. He coughed to cover the sound and slid closer to her again.
Colleen cleared her throat and her chair jumped a few inches further away. Faolan’s followed like a magnet to steel. When she coughed loudly and her chair appeared to be in danger of drifting yet again, Faolan decided he had had quite enough. With one large hand, he grabbed hold of the seat and pulled her back to his side so the chairs were once again touching. She gripped the edges and coughed yet again, but before she could w
iggle away, he gave a long suffering sigh and hooked his foot behind her chair leg, effectively anchoring it in place.
Colleen narrowed her eyes. “Move,” she whispered under her breath.
Unperturbed, Faolan returned her gaze levelly. “I’m content right where I am, lass. Why doona ye try being still?”
Sandy’s gaze gleamed at the possibility of a juicy story. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Faolan,” she remarked. “When did you get in?”
Colleen snatched up the plate and shoved it under Faolan’s nose before he could answer. “Cookie? They’re really good.”
Startled by the sudden movement, Faolan waved it away. “No, thank ye,” he said, turning his attention back to Sandy. “I arrived last night. It’s a rather amusing tale. I doona much think Colleen was expect–.mmph,” he ended abruptly when two of the shortbread cookies took up immediate residence in his open mouth.
“Picked him up from the airport late….” Colleen explained rapidly before Faolan could interrupt again.
Too late. He crunched twice and swallowed hard. “Whas an aeeropor?” he mumbled around the cookies, turning his face away before Colleen could shove another in his mouth. “Stop that, lass. I like ‘em well enough, but I’m going to bloody well choke at this rate.” He picked up his coffee and drained it, giving her an admonishing glare over the rim.
Oblivious to the dangerous undercurrents filling the kitchen Sandy squealed with excitement, gripping her mug with both hands to keep from spilling it. “I just love your accent. Is it Scottish? Are you enjoying your visit to the United States? How long are you here for?” Colleen rolled her eyes in exasperation at her friend’s nosiness.
“Och, well, that will depend on Mistress O’Brien, won’t it,” he smiled, taking Colleen’s reluctant hand and lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “’Tis her good graces that signify.” When Colleen shot him a warning glance, he blithely ignored it and gave her a wink. “I am indeed from Scotland and aye, I’m enjoying my visit to yer beautiful land. It’s vastly different from where I came from, which was–”
Rogue on the Rollaway Page 6
