Needed By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 5)

by Rebecca Preston

  “Still, it’s nice to hear it said,” she retorted archly.

  He chuckled, grabbing her by the hand as they headed indoors. Eamon, despite his long nap on horseback that afternoon, was starting to look sleepy, but he insisted on staying up with them as they chatted about the day. Niall was able to find some salve in the back of one of the cupboards, and he gently rubbed it into the rope burns on the little boy’s wrists as he chattered on about what had happened, about the bad man who’d kidnapped him and how brave he’d had to be to survive.

  “I could’ve fought him,” he said brightly. “I could have grabbed a stick and stabbed his eyes out! But I didn’t, because I wanted to be smart. I knew you and Helen would come save me,” he added, gazing up at his father with adoration in his eyes — and Helen smiled, delighted to be part of the rescue effort, pleased that he had thought of her, in his hour of need, as someone who would come to his rescue. Of course she was. She’d be that for the rest of his life, if he wanted her to. That was an odd thought… but a true one, she realized. Whatever strange path her life was following, she was happy she was here… and here was where she wanted to stay.

  Eamon’s yawns got too big to ignore, and finally, Niall lifted him gently in his arms and carried him into bed. Mutely, he reached out to Helen over his father’s shoulder, and she grinned, jumping up to follow them in, feeling honored to be part of the bedtime ritual.

  “G’night, Da. G’night, Helen. Thanks for coming to get me from the bad man,” he mumbled, already mostly asleep.

  As thanks went, it wasn’t much — but it was probably the most touching thing she’d ever heard. She beamed up at Niall, almost moved to tears by the little boy’s trust. He smiled down at her as they left the room, a look of peace on his face that made her almost as happy as finding Eamon safe and sound.

  “He adores you,” Niall said simply, spreading his hands. “I’ve never seen him so close with anyone. Not since his mother.”

  She took a deep breath. “Niall, I can’t be his mother. I know that, you know that… but I want to be part of his life. I adore him. And if there’s room for someone like me — not a mother, but someone he can trust, someone who’ll always look after him, who he can always come to for help or advice, someone who’ll always be on his case about looking after himself…”

  Niall was laughing.

  “What?”

  “You’re describing a mother,” he said gently, reaching out to touch the side of her face with incredible care. Her skin tingled with his touch, and she caught her breath, surprised again by the intensity of her feelings for him. “Helen… I know you’re not Erin. Nor would I want you to be. I loved my wife. But she’s gone… and I’m not looking to replace her in any way. That doesn’t mean I can’t love you.”

  She reeled at that, ready for a rush of paranoia and fear at the sound of that word… but nothing came. Shocked by her own resilience, she looked up at him, almost holding her breath in anticipation of what he was about to say.

  “I do, you know,” he said simply. “Love you. I think I’ve loved you since we met. Since I pulled you out of the Loch. Somehow, I just… I just knew who you were. How brave you were, how intelligent, how interesting…”

  She was blushing again, and he chuckled, his fingertips tracing the redness on her cheeks. “Niall…” she said softly, her voice hoarse with feeling. Helen bit her lip, trying to reach inside herself for the courage she needed. She remembered what her friends had told her, the excellent advice they’d given her. Be honest. Be true to yourself. Say what you want. “Niall, I love you too.”

  A broad, wondrous smile broke out across his face, and he gazed down at her, overcome. “You do?”

  “I do,” she said simply. “I love you. I love this place, I love the Keep and its people, I even love sailing. Why would I want to go back home, when I could be here instead?”

  “Even if you were given the choice?” he asked, his voice strained. “Even if you could go home — you’d chose this place? Chose me? Chose us?”

  “A thousand times over,” she whispered. And then she was in his arms, and he was holding her close, kissing her with an intensity that sent her whole body shivering. She returned the kiss, feeling unbelievably happy. The relief of finding Eamon alive and well, the relief of defeating the Kelpies and ensuring the safety and survival of the folk of the Castle as well as the village… it was all rushing around in her body. Add to that the knowledge that Niall loved her, that Eamon was accepting her presence in his life, that she finally had something she hadn’t realized she’d always been missing… her heart felt like it was going to explode.

  Before she knew it, they were in Niall’s room, and he was pressing her back onto the bed, covering her face and throat with kisses that were making her giggle even as they stoked the fire in her belly. Suddenly, the strain and exhaustion of the day were miles away as they undressed each other, drinking each other in, no obstacles remaining to their lovemaking… there was only this, this room, this moment. He paused for a moment to light a few candles around the room, and she took a deep breath as she looked at him in the candlelight. He moved to come to her — and she raised a hand imperiously, her eyes twinkling.

  “No. Stay there. I need to admire you…”

  “As my lady wishes,” he rumbled with amusement, his eyes glinting with humor as he struck a statuesque pose. Though he meant it as a joke, it only made him more gorgeous… the light glinting from his powerful muscles, the outline of his jaw in the gloom…. she beamed, reaching her arms out for him, and finally, he fell into bed with her, taking her into his arms and kissing her again and again. They lost themselves in one another, rolling across the bed, the covers quickly claiming them as their breathing quickened. Her hands roamed across his powerful body, much braver now than they’d been when they started, and when she caressed his manhood and his head fell back in a groan, she didn’t shy away. Instead, she kept stroking him, drawing pleasure out of his body the way he had drawn pleasure out of hers… and before too long, his passion was too great to contain. He took her into his arms, gazing deep into her eyes as he buried himself in her. She rocked her hips up to meet him, shocked anew at how good it felt — the way it was almost as though their bodies fitted together, as though they were made for one another.

  His name was on her lips as he drove her to her climax… and not long after, she heard him groaning hers in her ear as he spent himself inside her. She realized, in the delicious afterglow of their lovemaking, that she never had talked to any of her friends about contraception. They’d hardly been careful… but the more she thought about it, the more she didn’t mind the idea of falling pregnant. A little sibling for Eamon… she couldn’t help but grin at the idea, and Niall stirred, gazing down at her sleepily.

  “What are you grinning about?”

  “Just thinking of what Eamon would think about a little brother or sister,” she said softly, belatedly realizing that that was a lot to spring on a new lover. Would he be uncomfortable that she was already thinking such thoughts? He was the one who was having unprotected sex with her, she thought with a defensive thrill. But Niall only smiled, reaching down to kiss her gently on the forehead.

  “I don’t think either of us would survive another Eamon,” he said.

  She giggled, wrapping herself in his arms. “Maybe not. But this one would be part me.”

  “Even worse! The only thing stopping Eamon from destroying the castle is that I can outsmart him. A child of yours would be far too bright for me.”

  She giggled, full of love for him as she propped herself up on one elbow. “You’d like another child, though? Not that I have any immediate plans, but… well, things happen when a man and a woman do the things we like to do together.”

  “Like to do and are extremely good at doing,” Niall said softly, grinning at her. “But yes. I like the idea of a playmate for Eamon. Being an older brother might calm him down a little.” He hesitated. “Of course, the new child would have to ta
ke the spare room…”

  “I see,” she said softly, tilting her head. “Are you asking me to move into your quarters, Niall Grant?”

  He ducked his head, grinning. “If you’re so inclined, Helen Washington, yes I am.”

  She laughed delightedly. “If I’m so inclined! Your bed’s much better than mine.”

  “Is that the only reason?” he teased her, moving close, claiming her lips in a long, passionate, lingering kiss that set her smiling.

  She considered the question thoughtfully as he broke away. “I suppose the company isn’t too bad either,” she said finally, drawing a chortle from him. “Yes, Niall. I’d be delighted to move in here.” She scanned the room thoughtfully. “Not that there’s much room for my gowns…”

  “God, woman! Did anyone ever tell you you’re too practical for your own good? Just be romantic with me for a second,” he scolded her, pulling her close and kissing her again. “Besides, we can bring the wardrobe in from the other room. It’ll fit over there. I’ve already thought about these things, you see,” he added, tapping her reprovingly on the nose. “You think I’m some damned fool who’d just surge ahead with a foolish idea without thinking about it first —”

  “Niall Grant, today you leapt onto the back of a man-eating horse and rode it like a wild bronco on the off chance that getting an iron bridle over its head would tame it.”

  “And it worked, didn’t it?”

  He looked outraged, and she couldn’t restrain her fit of laughter. Rolling his eyes, he tickled her sides until she was squealing in protest — then he clapped a hand over her mouth, drawing her close again as he warned her not to wake Eamon. A long, contented silence fell between them as she nestled herself down into his arms, enjoying the warmth of his body, the delightful warmth of the bed, the safety that she felt here in his arms… and the knowledge that they were together now, whatever the future held. This was a strange world she’d found herself in, and a dangerous one. The Fae, she had to admit, frightened her — and what Maggie had said about retribution was still lingering on her mind, making her worry even as she relaxed with relief about the end of the Kelpie threat.

  But she had Niall Grant on her side, she thought sleepily, gazing up adoringly at his face. She’d thought he was asleep — his eyes were shut, and his breathing was regular — but his eyes flickered open as she moved, giving her a sleepy smile.

  “Did you mean it?” he asked softly. “That thing you said about wanting to stay here? Are you sure?”

  She sighed, exasperation mingling with her love for him. “Niall Grant, are you trying to talk me out of it?”

  “Of course not!” He sat up, looking horrified.

  “Well, good. Because you wouldn’t succeed.” She lay back in bed, twitching her toes smugly as she settled herself down. “You’re never getting rid of me, Niall Grant. I’m yours now, like it or not. I’m no Kelpie whose reins you can hand on when you’re tired of me.”

  He laughed, pulling her close, and she shut her eyes happily, feeling the warm embrace of sleep pulling at her as Niall held her tight. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he whispered, his voice soft with the love he felt for her.

  And as she drifted off to sleep, her last conscious thought was that for the first time in as long as she could remember, she wouldn’t change a single detail about her life, even if she could. Everything might not have been perfect… but God, she wouldn’t change a single solitary detail. Helen Washington had had to come all the way across the world, and five hundred years back in time, to pull it off… but now, finally, blissfully… she was happy.

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  Chapter 1

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  At midnight, Audrina James finally laid her head down, gratefully onto her pillow. It had been another grueling day in Trauma One, it was always the worst when the nursing staff and doctors of the trauma ward lost a child. Audrina looked at the ceiling where she had taped pictures of stars, lush green fields, exotic ancient castles and the forests of her ancestral homeland, vowing to herself that she would visit Claran Castle in Scotland someday. Audrina had put the pictures up so that she could clear her mind of the gruesome scenes that she faced in the E.R. day after day, night after night. They’d worked hard to save the boy from the ravages of a car crash, but Donald Nightingale, of sunny northern California, flatlined at eleven-thirty, after half a day’s worth of surgeries, blood transfusions and plasma bags. Audrina didn’t cry much anymore after working in the trauma center. But there were a few patients who tugged at her heartstrings. Donald would be one of them.

  “Look at the pictures. Look at the pictures,” Audrina chanted to herself. She used them as a platform to spring her mind into more pleasant thoughts before she drifted off to sleep. Audrina had been fascinated with the stories and lore of her ancestry when her grandfather used to sit her on his knee and recount tales of his youth, roaming the Highlands of Scotland. That was before a potato famine reached his homeland and forced his family to immigrate to the United States. Audrina would spend hours, daydreaming as she roamed the redwoods behind the house, pretending the tall trees were the ancient forests of Scotland. She knew now that Scotland was much greener, and the forests were made of tall oaks, and rowan trees, beech and pine and ash. But she had promised herself she would visit and discover it for herself someday.

  That was all a couple of decades ago, when Audrina had been just seven. After high school, she had gone on to nursing school, and now was faced with the ever-increasing violence of the San Francisco Community Hospital that came through the doors. The timing had just never felt right. There was always one more case to oversee, or one more patient to look after and successfully care for until they walked out the door of their own volition, and not in a body bag or stretcher.

  Audrina certainly had the money saved for the trip, but she always felt there was something holding her back. Some small fear she had that there was something Grandfather neglected to tell her about the ancient folklore. Audrina never quite made the jump to buy the plane ticket or book the hotels. She’d never really been sure why, but as she laid there, thinking about all of the never did’s that young Donald was never going to experience, she thought, “Why am I holding back? I have no solid reason, no proof that there is anything in Scotland I should be afraid of.”

  “I’m going to request the time off tomorrow and start booking tickets after my trip to the museum,” she vowed out loud.

  There was no one to hear her proclamation, she realized. There wasn’t anyone in her life that she could tell really. “I guess that makes it kind of sad, maybe even a little pathetic. Sure, I have my co-workers, but they would all say, “Finally, you are taking a vacation,” when I tell them,” Audrina thought.

  Audrina had become a trauma nurse after Mom had suffered the same fate as little Donald. She winced as the memories of that day entered her mind. It had been much like Donald’s parents rushing into the hospital. The only difference between her grandfather being informed, and Mrs. Nightingale’s heart-wrenching screams, had been significantly different, but as equally as devastating. That’s when Grandfather had taken her in. She didn’t know who her dad was, and it never occurred to her to go looking for him. She knew that she was loved when Grandfather took her, a scared little girl, home that night. He had cared for her and she didn’t need anyone else. Anyone, that was, except her mom, but she wasn’t coming back. When Grandfather had passed away she was twenty-one, she was left with no one. She hadn’t even bothered getting a pet. Audrina was never home because she worked so much. She’d always felt like it was her duty to save people because
, well, she couldn’t save her mom back then.

  Audrina tried to roll over onto her side. She was disgusted with herself that she was caught up in her own head and wallowing in self-pity. Her vow was just that and she was sticking to it. She realized, as she flipped back onto her back, that she had never been able to fall asleep unless she was looking up at her pictures. Grandfather had printed them for her the week that Mom had passed. He wanted her to have something to think about, other than the sadness of losing her mom.

  As Audrina’s eyes began to flutter closed, and she emptied her mind save for thoughts of faraway lands and lost familial ties, something, perhaps the moonlight, sparkled in the pictures above her. A small light that glowed in the tower of the castle, appeared to be brighter in the picture. But she squinted at it, and then chalked it up to fatigue and weary eyes. Her lashes batted against her cheeks one last time, and she fell into a deep, sound sleep.

  Candles surrounded her in a circle, haloing the circular room with an ethereal glow. Long thin tapers of white sheep’s fat burned low and lit the gloom of the dark tower. She’d been locked in there for so long, she had lost track of time.

  There was a straw mattress, in a splintered bed of Ashwood. The thin blanket cast across it, was worn and frayed at the edges. A small wooden chair, equally as uncomfortable, sat at the base of the bed. It wobbled on three legs, having relinquished one of the legs long ago, for the usage of a handle for a torch. The torch, had long ago burnt to ash, and was scattered and lost amongst the dust and dirt that caked the cold stone floor. She rocked back on her heels and murmured a soft prayer to the Gods, the Spirits, anyone who would listen. The tower was a prison, a tortuous place that seeped into the soul like the smoky blackness of a demon, coming from the bowels of hell to inhabit and ingest the goodness of the person’s humanity.