by Foxx, Nia K.
“It was a simple mistake,” she found herself explaining quickly.
“What kind of future is this where a woman need hire a man to bed her?” he yelled to the ceiling or at least that’s what it appeared to her.
Okay, this was not going well at all. Where the hell were the…
The rapid knocking at her door had Sierra breathing a sigh of relief. It was about damned time.
“This is the police,” a male voice announced from the other side of the door. “We have a report of a domestic disturbance here. Can you please open up?”
“We should get that,” she encouraged while he stood there muttering incoherently, probably some type of schizophrenic tirade. Perfect, he would go off the deep end right now.
“Giric,” she called to gain his attention. “Someone is at the door.”
He stared back at her, his jaw clenching. Even upset he was gorgeous. She shook her head to remove the thought from it. “They would like to come in,” she added gently.
Another series of knocks, followed by, “Ma’am, are you all right in there? Can you please open up the door so we can follow up on this report?”
“See. They’re not going to go away until we open the door.”
“Aye, but ’tis a quick discussion we will have with them. There is much to be said betwixt us.”
She nodded, knowing once the police got their hands on him, she wouldn’t have to worry about his craziness anymore. A twinge of regret stabbed at her as Sierra watched Giric answer his fate. She waited until she heard the door open before following him.
“Sir, we have a report of a domestic incident. Where is Ms. Cessinger?”
“I’m right here, officers,” Sierra announced, calmly stepping through the kitchen’s narrow archway.
“Ach, woman, I warned ye about presenting yourself dressed this way,” Giric growled, pushing her behind him with one arm before she could get a good look at her rescuers.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside and allow the lady by.”
“’Tis certain I am ye would like to look your fill at me wife, but I willna allow it.”
Good lord, the big lummox was gonna get himself killed if he kept this Highlander act up. As skilled as she thought he might be with his sword, she doubted if he could get to it quick enough to defend himself. Not to mention it was no defense against bullets.
“Officers, I don’t think this man is dangerous, just delusional…”
“My God, Giric, is that you?” Sierra heard someone else ask, she couldn’t be certain who the owner of the voice was.
What the hell?
“Dagnus, be that really ye?”
“Yes. My god, I never thought I would ever see you again. When did you get here?”
“Just yestereve. ’Tis a sight for sore eyes, ye are.”
“And the woman behind you?” the other man asked.
“My consort.”
“I see. Well, it explains a lot.”
What the hell were they going on about? She hadn’t heard anything that would explain diddly. Her efforts to get around Giric were blocked again by a restraining hand on her wrist pushing her near the wall, allowing him to continue to act as a shield.
“So I take it you know this gentleman?” It was the officer who’d first announced their presence.
“Yes, and I can vouch for him. Trust me when I say he’s the last person who would do this lady harm. He’s just a little old fashioned.”
Try a Neanderthal, she added silently. Perhaps this was some type of subterfuge on their part. Calm down the hulking man and pull her to safety.
“Are you sure about this one?” The first officer didn’t sound completely convinced.
“Absolutely.”
“Wagner to base,” she heard the man say, followed by a static response. “This is a false alarm. MacNamara and I will fill out a report later.”
“Hey, wait a second. You can’t just leave without taking him,” she protested.
“Has this man injured you in any way?” asked the voice identified as MacNamara.
“Well, no,” she answered honestly.
“Did this man spend the night with you, ma’am?”
“Dagnus…” Giric warned.
“I’m sorry, old friend, but I have to ask.” He mumbled something in that gibberish she’d heard Giric speaking in the kitchen. Dammit, it wasn’t incoherent babble. Listening to the back and forth between the two it suddenly dawned on her the guttural sounds were most likely Gaelic or something close to it.
“Ma’am, did this man, Giric MacDumnall, spend the night here?” the officer repeated in English.
“Well, yes, but…”
“And he didn’t harm or force you to do anything?”
“No, but…”
“Thank you. Giric, here is my card. My home number is on the back. The wife and I would love to have you and your wife over for dinner.”
“I’m not --” Her denial was interrupted by a sudden cry.
“Oh my God, where is she?” Sierra heard the sound of clicking heels hurry up her walkway as Vicki called out. “That’s him, officers, the man who broke in and attacked my friend. Where is she?”
“Right here,” Sierra muttered from behind the wall that was Giric’s back.
“Well, why aren’t you doing something? Shouldn’t you be arresting him? Oh my God, he’s holding her hostage. Is this some kind of a standoff? Who’s the hostage negotiator here?”
Sierra couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at her friend’s dramatic words. Giric said something else in the foreign language.
“Apparently you misunderstood the situation, ma’am. Why don’t we leave the couple in peace. If they don’t see to whatever’s burning we’ll have the fire department out here next.”
Vicki wasn’t giving up that easy. “You can’t just leave her with that lunatic!”
“Good day, Giric. I’ll see to your wife’s friend.”
“Thank ye. Her screeching was starting to give me a headache.”
That was it! Sierra sighed heavily as the door closed, leaving her alone again with Giric MacDumnall. What didn’t make sense was why the other officer was so easily convinced of Giric’s absurd story. She wondered what they exchanged in their secret language.
“Perhaps ye should finish with our breakfast. We can talk while we eat.”
Chapter Six
I say unto you, wisdom is the seed whereby the tree of knowledge flourishes.
-- Tos of Samothrace
Sierra made certain to set the plates at opposite ends of her tiny dining table although the thing was not large enough to afford them any real space. Giric’s long legs rested next to hers but it barely registered with her now as she listened to the fantastical tale he offered up as an explanation.
“And that police officer, Dagnus MacNamara, was in this Void with you?”
“Aye.”
More likely they shared a room in one of the state’s mental institutions, she told herself.
“All right, say I believe you. What now?”
He leaned forward on the table, bracing his elbows on the wooden surface, fingers lacing together. The look in his eyes held a distinct challenge. “We continue with our life together as husband and wife.”
“But what if I don’t want a husband?” Sierra put out there. “I mean, don’t I get some sort of say so in this?”
“It is the will of the Divine. Have I done anything to displease ye, lass?”
Other than turn out to be some crazy Scottish man. “No, but that doesn’t mean I want to marry you.”
“You would prefer to have your friend hire other men to bed you instead of have me as a husband?”
“About that, it’s not like it happens often. This was the first time.”
“And it be the last,” he stated definitively.
“You can bet your last dollar on that,” she muttered under her breath.
“I would like you to show me more of your mode
rn world. From what I’ve seen on your television and by the way Dagnus was dressed I should buy clothing more presentable to this time period.”
She quirked a brow. “And I suppose this Divinity person was nice enough to drop you off with some cash?” Perfect. If she could see his wallet and ID card, she’d take him right to his front door.
Sierra watched as he removed a black pouch from his kilt. He turned the bag upside down, letting several gold coins fall from its inside. “Will this be enough to properly attire me until I am able to find a way to make extra coin?”
She stared at the gold in disbelief, reaching for one of the heavy pieces of metal. It couldn’t be the real thing. All in all, there were twenty pieces spread out on her table. “Oh my God,” she gasped, unable to believe her eyes.
“Are you all right, woman?”
No she wasn’t all right. Highlanders didn’t just get transported through time and dropped on unsuspecting women’s doorsteps. “I don’t think so. Tell me these are fakes, and this is all some huge joke.”
“I dunna indulge much in falsehood, even for fun, Sierra,” he answered calmly. “Then you won’t mind if we take these to be appraised?”
“I dunna know of what you speak.” He looked truly perplexed.
“I know somewhere we can go to find out the authenticity and value of these. If you’re telling me the truth then I’ll know for sure with those.”
“Aye, if that is what you need to finally lay this to rest, let us go.”
* * *
“Is there not anything in this modern world made for normal sized folk,” Giric groused from his very compact seat in her car. Sierra bit back a smile. He’d done nothing but complain from the time they left her duplex. Well, even before that, when he saw her dressed in jeans and a fitted blouse. She stood arguing with him for a good ten minutes about her clothes before he grudgingly agreed to her outfit, once she added a lightweight button-up sweater that hung just below her buttocks. Sierra asserted herself when he insisted she button the garment up, informing him this was a part of the modern world he would have to become accustomed to if he intended to stay.
“There! What is that called?” Giric yelped as she eased them from the highway. He’d become eerily silent when she pulled into the fast moving weekend traffic.
She looked to the large vehicle he pointed to. “It’s a Hummer.”
“That is what I want us to drive. Surely it is large enough to provide more room than this.”
* * *
The jeweler handed over a very expensive looking card. “This is the person you want to talk to if you’re interested in selling those coins. He’ll be very excited to talk with you.”
“Thank you.” Giric accepted the man’s outstretched hand while Sierra digested what he’d just told her. Just one of the things was worth thousands of dollars.
“How many coins will we need to exchange for the Hummer?” Giric asked, holding the glass door open for her. Outside the streets seemed to buzz with excitement.
“You could buy two Hummers with one coin,” she provided numbly.
“Really? Perhaps I should use one to buy clothing.”
“Um, why don’t I do that instead? You can pay me back later,” she continued when he would have protested.
Was Giric really a thirteenth-century Highland warrior as he’d explained, taken in his prime to atone for sins destined to lead him down a path of damnation? Dear god. If that were true then his friend Dagnus was from the nineteenth century as he’d explained over breakfast. Hell, there were probably hundreds of others out there. She looked around them curiously only to find several eyes on Giric. Some women were so bold as to openly stare and gesture at him as if she weren’t there. Sierra had to admit he made a very impressive sight, his massive body fully adorned in traditional clothing from a long ago period.
“Ye were correct about the dress of women in this time, Sierra,” Giric observed. A twinge of jealousy shot through her as she wondered which of the admiring women had caught his eye.
“’Tis sad they canna ever measure up to my wife,” he added, taking her hand in his own. Sierra’s pulse raced at the contact.
“Here we are. I’m sure you can find something in here to fit you,” she said, stopping in front of a store that claimed to sell big and tall clothing and shoes for men.
Close to an hour later they emerged from the store with Giric sporting one of his many new outfits. Stylishly loose fitting jeans, a white tee with a black button up top and black boots he insisted on having. Damn, he looked just as sexy in modern clothes as he did in his kilt. Sierra found a permanent smile on her face as Giric took in everything around him like a… well, like a thirteenth-century Highlander. He refused to relinquish his hold on her hand even as they drove from one destination to the next. Several times she found him drawing her into the circle of his arms to give her gentle kisses or whisper one form of compliment or another in her ear. God help her but if he kept this up she would agree to be his wife, personal sex slave or anything else he could come up with.
As they finished up their meal at an outdoor cafe Giric toyed with her fingers absently across the table. “I think we should go home now, Sierra.”
“Are you sure? There’s so much more to see. What about…”
“Do you wish to be taken right here?” The combination of his serious tone and the heated look in his gaze had her blushing. Why did the mere thought of him pushing between her thighs in front of others have her ready to cream her panties?
“Let’s go,” she agreed after fishing through her purse for money to pay the bill.
* * *
“I’ll have to explain it to you later, Vicki, but trust me, you won’t believe me when I tell you.”
“Why can’t you tell me now? What’s going on? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” As fine as one could be draped over the shoulder of one very horny Highlander. She landed on her bed with a bounce, giggling as Giric unhooked the buttons of her jeans before tugging them off her hips. “Really, I have to hang up, now.”
“Too late,” Giric growled, taking the phone from her hand, tossing it to the floor with a thud. Sierra hoped Vicki hung up before she heard something she shouldn’t, but wouldn’t place any wagers on it.
Epilogue
Marriage is a mirror in which one sees a reflection of oneself.
-- J.S. Bach
“Exactly what year were you taken?” Sierra questioned, enjoying the gentle rise and fall of Giric’s chest beneath her head. If they never moved from the bed she would be happy.
“’Twas the winter of 1252, and we were to lay siege on an enemy’s keep. My men and I were just beddin’ down for the night.”
Sierra listened quietly as he explained the atmosphere before the siege, an evening feast, tales of valor to pump up the men, plus alcohol and women aplenty. As curious as she was, she didn’t dare ask how many willing lasses wanted to ensure their leader had the proper send off. Too much ale found him slipping away from their makeshift camp to answer the call of nature. One moment he was in the forest and the next The Void.
“Did you leave any family behind?” Sierra couldn’t help but wonder. He couldn’t be more than thirty-five when he was taken and for a thirteenth-century Scotsman that was well into middle age, more than enough time to have a family or two.
There were several silent moments before he continued, “No one of importance. I had a wife five years before bein’ taken to The Void. She was a young lass, so full of life. She fell ill with fever while pregnant and did not awaken one morn.”
“I’m sorry, Giric.” She pulled back to raise herself on one elbow. The look in his eyes wasn’t easily translated.
“’Twas a long time ago, lass. My life now is here with ye.”
They’d just met the day before and the thought of becoming involved in a permanent relationship should have been a completely moot point, but somehow they felt right, or at least right enough to see where th
ings would go.