by Darci Balogh
He glanced at it briefly before returning his weighted gaze back to her. "I see."
Tawnyetta looked behind him at the empty doorway. "Did anyone–"
"Come with me?" He finished her sentence, making her look at him again. He shook his head. "No."
A thrill shot from her stomach and down. Alone with him again. Her heartbeat grew faster.
"Is that all right with you?" His brow creased with the question. She nodded, unable to speak. One side of his mouth lifted into a sexy smile.
"I could have found my way back on my own," she blurted out, then immediately worried he would take it as an insult.
He nodded, playing at a serious face, "Oh, yes, lass. I have not a doubt about that."
Michael stood directly in front of her now. His body so close she could feel the heat emanating from him. She could smell him. Wild grass wet with rain, cool breezes, and damp earth. She realized he smelled like the Highlands and the skin on her neck and shoulders tingled. Breathing him in, she felt a little dizzy.
"Why–" her voice cracked and she had to swallow before continuing. "Why did you come back for me?"
His smile softened as he let his gaze roam across her face, down her neck and to her chest. He was momentarily captured by the roundness of her bosom moving up and down rapidly underneath her shirt with each shallow breath. Inching his body even closer, so close she had to press her bottom into the edge of the cot to avoid their hips touching, he slowly lifted his right hand. His eyes raised at the same time. Slowly. So slowly.
As his gaze lifted he used it to caress every inch of her neck, her chin, her lips, and her cheek. The whole while he spoke in a deep, rumbling tone, "I wanted to look at you here in the bothy. I wanted to touch your cheek. I wanted..." Here he paused. Tearing his eyes away from the hair just above her ear where his fingertips hovered, waiting to touch, he looked deep into her eyes. The blue in his was intensely dark. "I wanted to kiss you," he said as he bent his head down and softly touched his lips to hers.
Heat shimmered across her skin. His lips, warm and firm, pressed gently against hers and her body rose toward him. Michael pushed his fingertips lightly into the hair just over her ear sending shivers of down her neck and shoulders. He tasted sweet and his beard tickled her lips.
For one glorious moment she was lost in him.
Her hand reached for his cheek where she touched the soft whiskers of his beard, his jaw firm and strong underneath. His free hand slipped neatly around her waist and pulled her to him so their hips were touching. They both paused for a split second, hanging on to the moment as long as possible, then he kissed her more deeply. His fingers moved further into her hair and her senses exploded like a thousand stars twinkling through her body.
So this was what love felt like.
Tawnyetta had never been in love, not truly. She had never completely understood the drive people had for the whole marriage and family thing. But this. This man, this kiss, this moment, made her conscious of a whole new world. If this was how Bridget had felt, Tawnyetta could see why she'd wanted to get married so badly.
Bridget.
With a sudden gasp Tawnyetta pulled away from the kiss and placed both hands on Michael's chest. She pushed him away, still breathing hard from the thrill of their passion.
At first he didn't let go. Still wrapped up in their intimacy, it took him a moment to realize that she wanted to stop.
"What is it?" Michael released his hold on her, instinctively looking around and behind them for some unknown threat.
"Oh, God," Tawnyetta threw her hands over her face. She growled in frustration, "This is wrong!"
Seeing no immediate dangers, he turned his attention back to her. "What's wrong?"
She waved her arms around a little frantically. "All of this is wrong." She flipped her fingers back and forth between the both of them. "We're not supposed to get together. You and Bridget are supposed to get together!"
His confusion was complete. "What are you going on about, lass?"
Tawnyetta pushed past him and went to the corner where the stove sat. Standing right next to him made her dizzy and she needed to think straight. He watched her with growing frustration.
"She's the one who just broke up. She's the one that needs a romance," Tawnyetta tried to explain. It wasn't sinking in.
"You're friend, Bridget?"
"Yes, what other Bridget would I be talking about?"
His eyebrows lifted at her annoyed tone. "Pardon me. I didn't know there was a logical train of thought to this."
She sighed, holding her palm up to him to stop further comment. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that you are supposed to be Bridget's fun vacation romance, not mine. I didn't even pay for this trip!"
A glimmer of understanding appeared in his eyes. "I've been chosen for your friend? Not you? Is that what you're getting at?" His Scottish brogue was getting stronger, a sign he was getting angry. "And who, exactly, is making these decisions?"
"It's not like that. Not exactly," she tried to backtrack. Her shoulders slumped with defeat. She didn't know how to explain their predicament to him in a way that didn't sound crazy. She decided to just stick with the basics. "You're supposed to like Bridget."
"I don't like Bridget."
The fine hair on Tawnyetta's neck prickled defensively. "What's wrong with Bridget? She's a great person and she's absolutely beautiful. She's loving and would do anything for a friend. You would be lucky to have–"
"Dammit, lass, why won't you stop talking and listen to me!" Michael's voice boomed and his eyes flashed with anger. Tawnyetta froze. He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath before continuing. "Your friend is a fine woman, no doubt about it, but it's you, Tawnyetta." He stepped toward her, his eyes burning with longing. "It's you that I want." Tawnyetta's heart skipped a beat. He kept moving closer and closer, holding her attention with his gaze. "You...with the name like a lioness and eyes the color of fine whiskey. You, fighting me at every turn," he sounded exasperated, like someone facing a great challenge and not sure how to proceed. "You've got more than a wee bit of pluck, this is true," he chuckled a little. "You bring light into this ancient place, making it...making me come alive." He was in front of her again. She could breathe him in once more. When she did she felt lightheaded. His face softened. His voice followed in kind. "You've been living inside my soul my whole life, lass, and I didn't even know. My world was missing something, someone. And now here you are manifest right in front of me." He reached toward her, but didn't touch her, just held his hand level with her stomach, his fingers trembling, ready to scoop her up if given permission. His voice was gruff, full of emotion. "Sometimes, in the morning, when I see you walking through the mist in the garden I'm not even sure that you're real. You're like a dream. My dream come true. It's you I want, Tawnyetta. It's you I've fallen in love with."
His words entered her soul. Ignoring her physical body they implanted deep inside her, piercing places she had never known existed. She couldn't believe this was happening. So many feelings raced to places in her heart that had never been touched. They were too much. They soured in her stomach, turning the joy and happiness into a cynical disbelief.
Tawnyetta scoffed at him and Michael pulled away as if he'd been slapped.
"People don't fall in love in two weeks." Her voice was icy, dismissive. "Not emotionally healthy people, anyway. I mean, maybe you have some co-dependent stuff to work on. I don't know." She laughed and it tasted bitter in her mouth. "A vacation fling is one thing, but love? I doubt it." As the words spilled out of her Michael stepped back, dropping his hand to his side and watching her in disbelief.
Tawnyetta couldn't see straight. She had taken something lovely and twisted it into something embarrassing and awful. All she wanted to do was leave. When Michael stepped away from her, she took the chance to walk past him toward the door, but before she could get through he shoved his arm in front of her, blocking her path of escape.
/> "Wait," he said. His voice was like gravel in his throat.
She leveled her gaze at him, still upset for reasons unclear to both of them. "Please, Michael, let me leave."
Any hope that had lingered in his eyes dissolved into confusion then drifted away. All that remained were his blue eyes, void of emotion, disconnected. He dropped his arm and she left, because she couldn't stand to look into the emptiness her words had caused for one moment longer.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Tawnyetta burst through the servant's door at the rear of the castle. She rushed by Stewart and the cook, then by Anne, and finally Erin, startling her so badly that she almost dropped a tea tray she was carrying. They all watched her with surprise as she raced by and hurried to her room.
Tawnyetta didn't stop. She barely apologized as she hurried past. It was all she could do to control her ragged breathing as she fought to stop the tears that had been flowing since she left Michael–hurt, confused, and most likely furious.
She wanted to pack. She wanted to leave. Their plane left for home the day after next and it couldn't come fast enough in her opinion.
Tawnyetta managed to open the heavy door to her room. The Queen's room. The room she'd occupied on her own at Michael's insistence since her knee injury. Shutting the door behind her with a satisfying click, she slumped against the dark stained wood and let the tears come full force.
Though the stone walls and heavy door kept all sound out, Tawnyetta was still loathe to make too much noise. She didn't want the staff to hear her or, God forbid, Michael to return and hear her wailing in her room. She left the door and threw herself face down on her bed, muffling her sobs with the pillows.
She had never been in love like this. Never reacted to someone as strongly as she did to Michael, nor felt compelled to repel his advances so strongly either. It was an impossible relationship. She knew this. Surely he must know it, too. Not only were they practically strangers, but they lived an ocean apart. His life here was nothing like the life she had at home. They had so little in common it would be comical if it didn't hurt so much.
Then there was Bridget. She couldn't betray her. Bridget's heart was wounded. She needed love and support and fun, not a self-centered friend who seduced the very first eligible man to cross their path since Bridget's fiasco of a wedding.
Wiping her eyes, Tawnyetta rolled onto her back. The huge bed was remarkably comfortable and she felt guilty for taking this room for herself. As she looked around at the ancient architecture and plush bedding and curtains, she sighed. This life wasn't for her anyway. She was bound for something more rugged, like the Rocky Mountains she'd left behind. Hadn't she told everyone just two weeks ago that her greatest dream was to have an adventure? There was a whole world out there waiting to be explored. She couldn't waste time and energy on a pointless romance.
Tawnyetta sat up and sniffed. Even though her heart felt like it was full of lead and sinking slowly into her belly, she would buck up and move on. First things first, she needed to pack. That would help her get her mind straight and forget about this emotional tangent she'd ended up on. She had only just lifted her biggest suitcase onto the bed to rummage through it and begin organizing when a loud knock sounded at her door.
Tawnyetta jerked her head up, her eyes wide. He wouldn't...would he? Her lead heart thudded hard inside her chest.
"I'll be there in a second," Tawnyetta called out as she hurried into her bathroom and doused a washcloth with cold water. She rubbed it quickly over her puffy eyes and carried it with her back to the door. Taking a deep breath, she gathered herself then pulled the door open.
Her disappointment was sharp.
"Were you sleeping?" Bridget asked as she entered uninvited. Sofia following close behind.
"Yeah, a little," Tawnyetta answered, closing the door and turning toward her friends. Sofia glanced at the open suitcase on the bed. "I thought I would get a jump on packing, then I got really tired," Tawnyetta explained.
Bridget plopped down on the bed. "No packing yet! I don't want to think about going home. We still have the rest of today and tomorrow before we have to leave."
"Yeah, Tawny," Sofia mirrored Bridget's sentiments by closing the top of the unpacked suitcase. "Let's do something fun this afternoon."
"I think we should find the oldest, creepiest room in the castle and do a Ouija board!" Bridget said brightly. Sofia shook her head and mouthed 'no' to Tawnyetta from behind Bridget's back.
Tawnyetta thought about Michael's recently deceased older brother and his parents, not to mention all of the other people who had lived and died in this castle over the centuries. She wasn't one to put stock in silly games like Ouija boards, but she also didn't want to accidentally awaken some ghost that would haunt the halls of this place long after they left.
"I doubt if they have a Ouija board here, Bridge," she said logically. Sofia mouthed 'thank you'.
"Gigi and Lulu went to check," Bridget proclaimed, still holding onto the possibility.
When Angie and Luna arrived soon after they announced that their hunt for a Ouija board had come up empty. Bridget made a long face.
"But," Angie added with a radiant smile, "Dougie's wife is a fortune teller!"
"Dougie the caretaker?" Tawnyetta asked. He had seemed too old to have a wife.
Angie nodded. "She's known all over for being able to tell the future."
Bridget's face brightened. "Really?"
"And she said she had time to tell all our fortunes this afternoon," Luna added with a smile.
The decision was made. Before Tawnyetta had too much time to consider that perhaps she didn't want her future rolled out in front of her for all to see, she was off to see Dougie's wife, Gavina, the fortune teller.
All five friends walked to a small cottage at the edge of the castle woodlands where the caretaker and his wife had lived for decades. They were greeted by Dougie with all of his ancient Scottish charm and shown into a small but comfortable sitting room. There, under a pile of colorful shawls, sitting on a straight back chair in front of a small wooden table, sat his wife. With gnarled, trembling fingers she patted a stack of Tarot cards waiting on the table and beamed a smile at them that was missing one front tooth.
Gavina was tiny and round and as frail as Dougie. Her hair was pure white, braided and pinned in a loose bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were pale blue, but sharp like a bird's when they peered at the group of younger women over a pair of reading glasses.
"Who's first, then?" she asked in a high crackling voice.
Bridget went first. Gavina cooed and clucked over her and told her all of the nicest things about her future. Wealth, children, and a wonderful home, were just some of the things Gavina let Bridget know she had to look forward to.
"What about love?" Bridget asked, a bit greedily.
"Ah, love," Gavina's gappy smile saddened a little and Bridget took a quick glance at her friends to see if they had also seen the change in the fortune teller's demeanor.
"Is it bad?" Bridget asked.
"It isn't bad," Gavina assured her, though her face was still grim. "Your love is already in your life."
Tawnyetta's heart sank at this proclamation. Unbidden images of having to put on a fake smile and be the maid of honor at Bridget and Michael's wedding flew through her mind. She thought she might throw up.
"Oh," Bridget seemed surprised, then she frowned. "It's not Christopher, is it?"
"You don't see this love, yet," Gavina continued. "But when you do..." the old woman lifted her hands to her ears and wiggled her fingers while widening her eyes until they looked like bug eyes. The effect was both unnerving and silly. Bridget giggled and this sent ripples of slightly awkward laughter through all of them.
It was Tawnyetta's turn next. Gavina stared her down with a piercing gaze for at least thirty seconds after she sat down. So long that Tawnyetta was beginning to wonder if the old woman had suffered a stroke.
"You're a wild-eyed, lass," Gav
ina told her suddenly. Tawnyetta didn't know how to respond, so she said nothing. The old woman mumbled something under her breath, closed her eyes and patted the Tarot cards with both of her arthritic hands. Then she picked up the deck, pulled a card from the middle and placed it on the table face up. She opened her eyes, took in the image on the card and looked sharply up at Tawnyetta.
"You're a wanderer, are you not?" Gavina asked, her pale eyes glittering.
Tawnyetta gave an uncertain nod, then answered, "I came here so I suppose I am."
Gavina shook her head and when she did there was a tinkling of tiny bells from somewhere unseen on her person. "Not your body, lass. Your mind. Your soul." Gavina tapped the image on the card. It was a drawing of a nude woman who looked to be asleep. She was bound tightly in the roots of a great tree and the roots were lifting her towards a night sky where a huge, white moon looked down, scowling. "You're trapped in your body and letting your mind fall into daydreams all the time. You won't wake up to the truth."
"What truth?"
"That your soul is the real wanderer."
With that announcement Gavina gathered up the card dismissively and waved for Angie to sit down in the chair Tawnyetta occupied.
"But I don't understand," Tawnyetta said. She desperately wanted to ask about her own love life, about Michael and whether or not she would ever find anyone that made her feel the way he did again. But she couldn't bring all that up in front of an audience. However, she could try to understand the cryptic message she had received.
Gavina turned her sharp blue eyes on her again. "Your soul understands, lass. That's all that matters."
When they returned to the castle after having their fortunes told Tawnyetta still had not deciphered the meaning of the old woman's message. Given that the fortunes she'd told the others were almost as strange as hers, Tawnyetta had secretly decided that Gavina was a bit of a con artist. She didn't tell the others, though. No sense in ruining everyone's fun.
"Where is Thomas?" Luna wondered aloud. They had been so swept away in visiting Gavina that they had forgotten about him.