Tess and the Highlander

by May McGoldrick

  What kind of idiot would be out swimming in a storm like this?

  A handsome one, that’s for sure.

  She peered toward the door of the cabin where Perth had disappeared. She’d taken her suitcase down there earlier. The space hadn’t been tall enough for her to stand in. Crammed with boat gear and fishing stuff, it smelled dank and fishy. She couldn’t wait to come back into the open air.

  Killian saw him emerge. As he came through the doorway, their gazes locked for a brief moment, and she felt a sudden jolt. Instinct told her to back away. Handsome or not, there was an intense, almost predatory look in the way he was sizing her up.

  The blanket was gone. Perth was wearing a plain dark tee-shirt that was too small for him. An old pair of shorts. She wondered if the clothes belonged to Thomas. His feet were bare. Standing next to the old man, Perth seemed unaffected by the rain and the cold bite of the wind.

  Thomas leaned toward him and whispered. “She’s the one.”

  Killian was surprised at the words.

  Perth made no reply. He moved easily on the bouncing boat and sat down on the bench across from her. Suddenly, Killian felt crowded. His long legs stretched out, filling the space. She had nowhere to look but into his face, half-hidden in the darkness. What she could see were chiseled features, a straight nose, a strong chin. She couldn’t guess his age. His hair was dark and on the long side. The wind was whipping it about his face. Her gaze moved downward. The shirt was stretched across the muscles of a broad chest. He made Michael Phelps look scrawny.

  The boat hit the sea with an extra hard slap. Killian’s forgotten backpack bounced down the deck. She grabbed for it. Perth put out a foot to stop the slide. She accidentally touched his leg before getting hold of the bag.

  Strong and muscular legs, amazing chest, warm skin, a handsome face. He was all raw power. She felt flustered just noticing his body. She blamed it on spending the last four years at an all-girl boarding school. Killian yanked the bag between her feet. She forced her gaze back to his face without pausing anywhere along the way.

  He was still staring.

  “Hi, I’m Killian,” she shouted. “I can’t believe you were swimming in this.”

  Before she could finish, a clap of thunder exploded practically in her head, causing her to jump. The boat’s pitch and roll were becoming more severe. She looked over her shoulder as a branching bolt of lightning streaked down, burying its tips in the sea not far away. Another thunderous blast immediately followed the light show. The storm was almost on top of them.

  Killian felt insignificant as nature slapped the boat every which way. She had no control over what was going to happen to them.

  “I don’t know how to swim,” she called out over the noise of the storm.

  Perth gave no sign that he’d heard her, but Thomas turned and motioned to Killian. “Life vests are in the storage space under your seat.”

  She scrambled to her feet, trying to keep her balance. She opened the compartment and offered the first vest to Thomas. He never turned, but waved a dismissive hand, letting her know he didn’t need one.

  The boat suddenly became airborne for a couple of seconds. It smashed down on the water with enough force to throw Killian across the narrow deck. She landed against Perth. Strong hands grabbed her by the waist and helped her to right herself. She held out the life vest to him. He tossed it back into the bin.

  “Okay, drown. Both of you,” she said. Moving unsteadily, she hauled the life vest out again. In a moment, she was pulling the straps tight.

  Two shirts, a heavy sweatshirt, windbreaker, the life vest. Killian felt as big as a Goodyear blimp. But it didn’t matter. They were going to die. The waves around them loomed high over the boat. She struggled to close the storage bin. Perth reached around her leg and closed it. She sat down, her hands searching for something to hold on to. Seawater broke over the side and smacked Killian across the back, drenching her and sending her sliding down the bench and onto the deck.

  There was no point in trying to get back to her seat. The boat was hitting one wave after another, and they were airborne between the collisions. She huddled in the corner against the fishing gear.

  The next dive through the air was hell. Killian felt her stomach lurch. She grabbed a bait bucket. The smell of dead fish finished the job. Her stomach emptied.

  But that was only the beginning. The world as she knew it was coming to an end. She couldn’t stop heaving. Sharp cramps, nausea, the helplessness of being thrown around the deck actually made drowning sound like a death she could live with.

  The storm was getting stronger, the sea rougher, her stomach more determined to punish her. She couldn’t stop shivering. Each time the boat rose and landed, she struggled to stay put. Killian wrapped her arms around the foul bait bucket, dreading the next wave.

  A large hand took hold of her wrist. Strong fingers slipped beneath the cuff of the windbreaker and sweatshirt, touching her skin. Shock, pleasure, comfort, an assortment of sensations rushed through her, all having to do with the realization that she wasn’t alone. Someone was taking care of her. Perth had slid down the bench and was leaning over.

  “Feel free to throw me overboard.”

  Her weak attempt at humor didn’t register with him. His fingers remained locked around her wrist. He didn’t pull her up onto the bench. He didn’t say anything to calm her nerves. But there was something about the touch. A feeling of warmth from his fingers slowly seeped into her. Her stomach’s violent protests eased. Thoughts of impending death disappeared. Even her fear lessened. She let go of the bucket.

  Killian struggled to come up with a rational explanation.

  “Pressure points?” she managed to ask. “I’ve read about that for motion sickness.”

  Killian pushed herself away from the bucket and fishing gear. She leaned back against the bench Perth was sitting on. The storm wasn’t letting up. She peered at the waves and the lightning. She was no longer afraid.

  “Hypnotism, maybe,” she muttered. “Better than Dramamine. You could make a lot of money bottling this stuff.”

  The howl of the wind was her answer.

  She chuckled absently, amused by her own talkativeness. She looked at her wrist, caught in his grip. His skin was darker than hers. She studied the line of his knuckles. She felt the pressure of his thumb. He seemed to control her pulse, the very beating of her heart.

  Killian rested her shoulder against his knee. She suddenly felt tired, drowsy. Nothing bothered her. She had no fears. She leaned her head against his leg and closed her eyes.

  The 'May McGoldrick Family Tree' Book Information

  Our 16th Century books...

  In The Thistle and the Rose, Colin Campbell and Celia Muir are introduced...

  And we also introduce Alec Macpherson, who is the hero of our second book, Angel of Skye...

  Alec has two brothers, Ambrose and John, who are the heroes of Heart of Gold and The Beauty of the Mist, respectively...

  In Angel of Skye, we also introduce a little boy, Malcolm MacLeod, and in Heart of Gold we introduce a little girl, Jaime...

  When Malcolm MacLeod and Jaime grow up, they are the hero and heroine of The Intended...

  In Heart of Gold, we also introduce Gavin Kerr, who becomes the hero of Flame...

  In Flame, we introduce a number of characters who show up in The Dreamer, The Enchantress, and The Firebrand (the Highland Treasure Trilogy), including John Stewart, the earl of Athol and a number of villains...

  The Highland Treasure Trilogy is the story of three sisters...Catherine Percy of The Dreamer, Laura Percy of The Enchantress, and Adrianne Percy of The Firebrand...

  In The Enchantress, we introduce Sir Wyntoun MacLean, who also appears in The Firebrand...

  In The Firebrand, we also introduce Gillie the Fairie-Borne, who may just have a story of his own one day...

  Colin Campbell and Celia (from The Thistle and the Rose) also make a 'cameo' appearance in The Firebrand...
>
  Alec Macpherson and Fiona (from Angel of Skye) have three sons. The youngest, Colin Macpherson, is the hero of Tess and the Highlander (a young adult novel published by HarperCollins in November 2002)

  Arsenic and Old Armor (Love and Mayhem) By Nicole Cody is a retelling of Arsenic and Old Lace. Reference made to Angel of Skye.

  Our 18th Century Books

  In The Promise, Samuel Wakefield, the Earl of Stanmore, and Rebecca Neville/Ford are the hero and heroine...

  In that book we also introduce Stanmore's friend, Sir Nicholas Spencer, who becomes the hero of The Rebel, which is set in Ireland...

  Stanmore and Rebecca also appear in The Rebel...

  In The Promise, we also introduce Rebecca's friend, Millicent Wentworth, who becomes the heroine of Borrowed Dreams...

  Borrowed Dreams is the start of a new trilogy about three Scottish brothers, starting with Lyon Pennington, Earl of Aytoun. We also meet a new cast of characters who show up in the trilogy. Violet, from The Promise, plays a big role in this book, too. She will show up again in the third book in the trilogy, Dreams of Destiny.

  In Captured Dreams, we see Lyon and Millicent and the entire household of Baronsford in Scotland, along with wonderful heroes and villains that David Pennington meets in colonial Boston.

  In Dreams of Destiny, the mystery of Emma's death is solved...

  Stay tuned...

  Complete Book List as of 2012

  Writing as May McGoldrick:

  GHOST OF THE THAMES

  MADE IN HEAVEN

  DREAMS OF DESTINY

  CAPTURED DREAMS

  BORROWED DREAMS

  THE REBEL

  TESS AND THE HIGHLANDER

  THE PROMISE

  THE FIREBRAND

  THE ENCHANTRESS

  THE DREAMER

  FLAME

  THE INTENDED

  BEAUTY OF THE MIST

  HEART OF GOLD

  ANGEL OF SKYE

  THISTLE AND THE ROSE

  Writing as Nicole Cody & May McGoldrick

  LOVE AND MAYHEM (Arsenic and Old Armor)

  Writing as Jan Coffey:

  AQUARIAN

  THE BLIND EYE

  THE PUPPET MASTER

  THE DEADLIEST STRAIN

  THE PROJECT

  SILENT WATERS

  FIVE IN A ROW

  TROPICAL KISS

  FOURTH VICTIM

  TRIPLE THREAT

  TWICE BURNED

  TRUST ME ONCE

  About the Author

  NIKOO and JIM McGOLDRICK have spent their lives gathering material for their novels. Nikoo, a mechanical engineer, and Jim, who has a Ph.D. in sixteenth-century British literature, wrote their first May McGoldrick novel in 1994. Since then, they have taken their readers from the Highlands of Scotland to the mountains of Kurdistan in bestselling, award-winning historical romance and contemporary suspense novels under the names May McGoldrick, Nicole Cody, and Jan Coffey.

  You can contact us at JanCoffey@JanCoffey.com

  Please like May McGoldrick author page on facebook to receive the latest updates

  Here's an excerpt from May McGoldrick's latest Historical Romance

  Ghost of the Thames

  CHAPTER 1

  “It is not time, Sophy. Take my hand. Wake up.”

  The voice was in her head. A dream. A woman, calling to a stranger.

  “Sophy,” the voice persisted. “Take my hand. Come with me.”

  She knew no Sophy. She knew no one.

  She opened her eyes, immediately stunned by the thick cold surrounding her. She was under water, sinking in a long, black funnel. The weight of the water crushed her. She opened her mouth to cry out and swallowed filth.

  A hand reached for hers. She took hold of it. A lifeline of hope, pulling her upward. Kicking her feet, Sophy burst through the surface, sputtering, gasping, and coughing up the foul water.

  As her coughing subsided, she became aware of chill air slapping her face. She was in a river, floating with the icy current. Wiping slime from her eyes, she glimpsed a distant embankment through the fog. Shadowy openings of stairs and rickety docks led from the river to dark alleys. Far above the hulks of boats crowding the water’s edge, the dim light of a lantern shone for a moment in a dingy window high up in a dark building. A moment later, the current had taken her past it.

  “Swim ashore, Sophy. Come with me . . . come.”

  There was no one else in the water with her.

  “Where are you?” she croaked.

  “Here! Come toward me, Sophy. Follow me.”

  Sophy turned in the water and saw her. Golden hair floated around the young woman’s shoulders. Her face was bright, like a full moon breaking through the clouds.

  “Come, Sophy. I need you. I need your help. Come.”

  Sophy kicked her feet and swam toward her. She seemed to get within an arm’s length of her guide’s outstretched hand, but could not reach her. Sophy’s lungs were burning, her arms and legs leaden with exhaustion. Her head felt ready to explode.

  “I . . . cannot.”

  One foot, then the other, touched the muck at the bottom of the river. Holding herself firm against the current, she looked up to see the girl was already ashore, a few yards away, standing by the rotted piling of a decrepit pier, waiting for her. Boats lay side by side along the muddy bank, lines running up toward the river’s edge and disappearing ashore.

  A couple of unsteady steps and Sophy was standing waist deep. The blast of cold air cut through the thin knit shirt plastered to her skin. She fought the urge to sink back down into the murky river.

  “Here. This is for you.” A dark cloth lay half submerged.

  Sophy forced her legs to travel the last few steps to the water’s edge. Her body shivered and her fingers trembled as she wrapped herself in the coarse rag of what was once a blanket. Climbing onto the dock, she sat heavily. Her head was pounding, and she pulled the makeshift cloak around her.

  Sophy tasted blood and grime in her mouth. The aching pain in her head didn’t ease, but grew worse as moments ticked by. She wanted to sleep.

  Huddled beneath the wet blanket, her body wracked with the cold, Sophy looked up at the young woman standing not ten feet from her. She appeared to be dry, dressed in a flowing white gown, totally unaffected by the cold. She was young, little more than a girl. Too young to be moving about in a city all alone.

  “You cannot stay here, Sophy. We must keep going.”

  “Is that my name?”

  “Your friends call you Sophy.”

  “I don’t remember anything. My name . . . or any friends. Or what I was doing in the river.”

  “You will, in time, remember all of it. But now we need to be on our way.”

  “Why? Where are we?” Sophy asked, shivering.

  “You are in London.”

  She knew of the city, but she could not recall if it was her home or not. The name evoked no memories, at all. The sudden realization that she knew nothing of her past was paralyzing.

  “Who are you?”

  “That’s not of any importance.”

  “Are you my relation?”

  "No. Tonight, in this river, was the first time we met.”

  “It was dangerous for you to come after me. Why did you save me?” Sophy asked.

  “It was not your time.”

  Her questions skipped like pebbles over smooth water. Sophy’s head throbbed. The blanket did little to warm her.

  “You know my name. Can you take me to my people?”

  “No.”

  Where to go? Whom to seek? Was anyone out there who could help her? These questions and so many others were piling up, a mountain of confusion crushing her.

  “We need to go now. Follow me.”

  Her rescuer was backing away. Leaving her. Sophy didn’t know how she was able to find the strength to push herself to her feet, but she somehow managed. Clutching the blanket around her shoulders, she slipped into the shadows behind her
guide. Buildings loomed above her. The stones were slick beneath her feet, but her new friend stayed ahead of her. Sophy soon found herself moving through winding alleyways she was certain she had never seen before.

  Dark riverfront warehouses soon gave way to lanes lined with shuttered shop windows and faded signs. As the two women moved farther from the water, Sophy began to see people huddled around doorways and sleeping in corners. No one even looked at them twice.

  Sophy was out of breath and feeling faint by the time her guide paused on the gleaming stone pavement of a wider street. The byway was empty of people, and the upper floors of shops and houses jutted out over the lane. Some had signs hanging above doors, and most were in darkness. The flicker of candlelight glimmered in one window of a house at the corner.

  “Where are we going? To whom are you taking me?” Sophy asked, trying to focus.

  “I’m taking you to a person who can help you and keep you safe.”

  The girl looked untouched by their travels. Her clothes appeared unblemished, in spite of the mud and slime of both river and alley.

  “Who will help me?” Sophy asked, trying hard to believe there could be such a person.

  Then, right before Sophy’s eyes, like a candle suddenly snuffed out, the young woman disappeared.

  Before she could even utter a cry, Sophy heard the clatter of horses. As she turned, the driver’s shout rang out, but it was too late.

  The carriage was upon her.

  *

  “Ho! The devil! Look out there!”

  The shout of the driver was accompanied by the neighing of his horses, and Edward Seymour felt the carriage clattering to a stop.

  “What is it, man?” he called, throwing open the door and climbing out.