by Cindy Miles
Amelia rubbed her cheek with one finger and looked at Allie. “Ethan is a friendly, outspoken man. He isn’t afraid to show his feelings, whether it be for me, his kin, or a friend.” She crossed her jean-clad legs at the ankle. “So when Ethan noticed Gabe across the loch, he made his way over one afternoon and introduced himself.”
Allie nodded.
“And Ethan, in his outspoken way, told Gabe—more than once—he looked like bloody hell.” Amelia gave a soft laugh. “Ethan came home with two black eyes, a bloody nose, and a swollen jaw.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “Gabe beat him up?”
“They beat each other up. Beat the living tar out of each other, my granny would say. I don’t know who looked worse, but they must have duked it out for quite a while before deciding enough was enough.” The smile touched Amelia’s eyes. “And they’ve been fast friends ever since.”
“It sounds as though Ethan and the guys pulled him through some rough times,” Allie said. “It must have been horrible.”
“He looks amazing now,” said Amelia. “Back then, when he first came, he was skinny, unshaven—yeah, it was horrible. I felt so sorry for him. Having the guys, and their unique situation, helped, I think. Plus Gabe’s dad and brother are fantastic.” She shrugged. “Everyone pulled together.” She patted Allie’s leg. “But my Lord, look what you’ve done to him now.”
Allie grinned. “I haven’t done anything. I’ve known him for a very short time, actually.”
“Really?” Amelia said, grasping Allie’s hand and squeezing. “I don’t see that.”
Allie glanced at Ethan, his kinsmen, and Gabe down on the car park as they looked over the bike.
Although it was dark, the outdoor light cast enough light for Allie to notice Gabe had turned his gaze in her direction.
He smiled, the whites of his teeth stark against the low light.
“I guess I don’t see it, either,” Allie said.
And she didn’t.
“You and Gabe will have to visit us at the keep sometime,” Amelia said. “There’s plenty of room and lots of fun places to explore.”
Allie glanced at her belly and smiled. “That sounds exciting. How much longer before you can’t explore anymore?”
Amelia waved a hand. “Pah, this is my third, and I’ve still got four more months to go. Easy peasy. You guys come whenever you like.”
Allie smiled and looked at the other woman who’d fast become her friend. “It’s been great meeting you,” she said.
Amelia met her gaze. “Likewise. You know, in a sea of testosterone, us girls have to stick together. Big-time. And you know,” she said, pinching her thumb and index finger close together, “we’re only this far apart on the map. So let’s not be strangers.”
They laughed, and while the guys finished being guys, Allie dared to imagine what it would be like to be a part of this kind of life permanently.
The clean, cool Highland night air rushed over her, like an accidental touch, or a profound whisper, as someone urgently, from the glens and crags and depths of the loch, leaned close to her ear and said, Stay, Allie Morgan, you belong. You belong with Gabe. You belong here.
Allie wrapped her arms about herself and inhaled again, hearing the water of Loch Ness ripple and lap at the shore below, and the leaves rustle above.
She indeed felt content. Gabe made her feel whole.
And she prayed with fervor that the haunting whispers of the glen were right.
Gabe pulled Allie close as they said good-bye to the Munros. Ethan’s kin had all nearly slapped the breath from his lungs with their version of farewell, but Gabe felt lucky to have such an unusual lot of friends.
They’d all loved Allie on sight.
He’d expected no less.
As they climbed into the Rover, Gabe glanced down and noticed a copy of Amelia’s book, Enchantment, clutched in Allie’s hands. He was sure she’d find it just as fascinating as he had.
As long as she found it fascinating some other night.
Not tonight.
They waved, leaving the big lot of lads, plus wee Amelia, on the deck. Ethan pulled his wife close and kissed her temple, one hand protectively sitting atop Amelia’s blooming belly.
Gabe wondered briefly if that bothered Allie. Somehow, even if it did, he thought she’d never tell him. He wished mightily that he could change things for her.
As they drove along, he snatched glimpses of her profile in the dark, with only the stereo’s neon green numbers casting an iridescent glow to Allie’s face.
Beautiful.
Turning the Rover onto a single lane, he headed toward a favorite place of his he felt sure Allie would love. They seemed to love quite a lot of the same things—which amazed him. She was simple, loved the outdoors, didn’t mind hard work, and sweet God, she could kiss.
Which is all they’d be doing tonight regardless of their opportunity to be alone.
He’d given his word.
And while not at all a scaredy-cat—a term Ethan had used but Gabe felt sure he swiped from Amelia—he wouldn’t give his word to five big lads from the fourteenth century who’d proudly hacked off a head or two and then take that word back.
A fool he wasna.
No’ to mention that while Allie drove him close to insanity, with her warmth, her soft skin that smelled of flowers, the way she kissed and her bonny form pressed tightly against his, he respected her. He so completely respected her he’d push his own urges aside to care for her wishes.
He just prayed she didna wish the same thing he did.
“They’re really nice,” Allie said, turning sideways to look him straight-on. “I really liked them.”
Gabe nodded. “Aye, and they took right to you, as well.” He smiled and inclined his head. “I see Amelia gave you one of her novels. You’ll enjoy it. ’Tis an amazin’ story.”
She looked at him and smiled. “This isn’t the same way we came.” She cocked her head—an endearing gesture she did frequently that Gabe decided he liked. “Are you taking me somewhere secluded to make out?”
He raised a brow. “Aye, darlin’, I most certainly am.”
Allie laughed softly and slipped her hand into his. “Good. I was hoping you were.”
Only his Allie would be so vulnerably open. He liked that about her, too.
Easing the Rover down the narrow gravel path, Gabe came to a stop and lifted the emergency brake. He inclined his head. “Quite a view, aye?”
Allie’s eyes moved across the loch, the moonlight making her pupils shine. “Breathtaking.”
“Aye,” he agreed, although to a different scene altogether. He opened the door. “We have a clear view of the sky from here that we canna see from our porch because of the trees.”
Together, they leaned against the hood of the Rover and watched the stars. Gabe slid up onto the hood and pulled Allie to rest against his chest. He draped his arms around hers and held her, his chin on the top of her head.
He felt content.
Aside from wanting her so badly, that is.
“What did you study at university, lass?” he asked, thinking a nice, safe nonkissing topic would help him keep his hands to himself.
She laughed softly. “Strangely enough, astronomy.”
And then Allie Morgan proceeded to point out several constellations, stars, planets.
On her own, she turned in his arms to face him. His hands settled against her hips, and, God help him, she slid her wee hands to his hips. In the darkness, with the moonlight and the sounds of Loch Ness, Allie Morgan smiled and leaned against him. She pressed her mouth to his and inhaled as she slowly tasted him, and Gabe moved his hands over her back and pulled her to him, so close he could feel Allie’s heart pounding against his. Her hands came up and grasped either side of his face, her fingers rubbing against the day’s stubble on his jaw.
Without hesitance, she kissed him long, thorough, and he let her take the lead. When she finally stilled against his lips, kissed him soft
ly once, and opened her eyes, she first looked at the mouth she’d just tasted, and then at his eyes.
“I love you, Gabe MacGowan.”
He smiled, shook his head, and then laughed. “She loves me!” he shouted, and his deep, booming voice bounced off the waters of Loch Ness and echoed through the glen.
Allie laughed and placed her hand over his mouth. “Shh, you crazy thing,” she said, her eyes shining.
“I love you, Allie Morgan,” he said against her fingertips. “I love you.”
Chapter 26
Allie thought she and Gabe would get tired, grow sleepy, stop talking, or kiss some more.
Or just throw caution—and her reputation—to the wind and give in.
They both wanted it. Good Lord, the profound strength Gabe had exerted to not lose control when they had been on the forest floor was almost as much of a turn-on as the control getting lost.
She was thirty years old, for God’s sake. She wasn’t a virgin. She hadn’t had many lovers—okay, so there was just one. But that one had lasted for a couple of years, and she thought they were going to get married. Little did she know he’d dump her for another woman.
But she and Gabe didn’t give in. Not yet, anyway. Instead, on the high banks of Loch Ness, on the porch Gabe built with his own hands, they snuggled.
Guys hated that word. Snuggle. It was a girl thing to do, invented, probably, by a girl. It meant to snug. In other words, in a guy’s mind, to snuggle, or to snug, meant no sex.
Allie thought Gabe hid his loathing for snuggling rather well. Either that or, dare she think, he was one of the few men who actually liked it?
Either way, snuggle, in fact, is just what they did.
After they kissed some more.
The night wasn’t as cool as it had been recently, and the outdoor fireplace, along with a few blankets, kept Allie and Gabe toasty warm. They talked. About family, about childhood, about places they’d like to visit, things they each enjoyed doing—they just learned.
Allie was fairly positive that making love with Gabe would be earth-shattering. He’d probably have to teach her all over again how to actually make love—it’d been quite a long time for her.
Gabe kept talking, and Allie wanted to keep kissing. She wanted to touch, skim her hands over his rocky biceps, slip her hand under his shirt, and feel the ripped abs she’d seen that night when he’d had just a button-up shirt on, unbuttoned.
The thought made her mouth go dry.
Gabe made her mouth go dry.
What, exactly, were they waiting on, anyway? Frustrated? To have Gabe so close and be so casual?
Ugh!
“Allie?”
“Yes?” she asked, smiling through her clenched teeth.
Gabe, lying behind her and on his side so she could fit on the deck sofa with him, looked at her, relaxed. With his head propped on the heel of one hand, the other rested casually over her stomach, he grinned. “What’s wrong, lass?”
How could he be so calm?
She certainly wasn’t. She felt as if someone had lit her virtual fuse and it was getting shorter and shorter by the second. Good Lord! They’d been lying nearly on top of each other for over two hours and she was about to yank her hair out. She probably needed to just go either jump into the cool October waters of Loch freaking Ness or take a cold shower in the cottage.
She opted for the cold shower.
Because of that whole monster thing.
She lifted Gabe’s hand from her stomach, set it onto his own thigh, and rolled off the deck sofa.
Literally. She hit the wood, stood up, brushed off her backside, and began walking to the back door of the cottage.
“Allie, where are you goin’?”
She stopped, breathed a few times to mask her . . . whatever it was, and turned and smiled. “I’m gooin’ to take a shower.” She smiled extra wide for good measure.
“But you just took one, lass. Before we went to Ethan’s.”
“Not a cold one. I’ll be back.”
Then she turned and slipped into the cottage.
Since no one had thought to leave on a lamp, the interior of the cottage had only a slight silvery glow from the moon as it poured in through the two large picture windows facing the loch. Finding the small hallway, she made for the room she’d set her overnight bag in. Once there, she yanked off her jacket and flung it onto the bed. “It’s so hot in here,” she muttered under her breath while digging through her bag.
“Allie, stop, love.”
She squealed and jumped. Turning around, she pasted on a smile she hoped the dark would conceal.
Especially if it looked as fake as it felt.
“I’ll just be a minute,” she said, and brushed by Gabe, who stood just outside the door to the room.
Allie didn’t even make it to the bathroom door.
Gabe grabbed her hand as she tried to pass, and she jerked to a stop. Without a word, he rounded on her, placed his fingertips on her stomach, gently pushed until her back touched the wall. He braced his weight with a hand to either side of her head and stared down at her.
Even just standing there, with him so close and she with her emotions soaring, Allie’s breath came hard. She tried to slow it down, but her chest rose and fell and she knew Gabe noticed.
He looked.
Once more, he asked, “Lass, what’s wrong with you?”
She attempted to duck under his arm. He lowered it and trapped her again.
Allie rubbed her forehead and then looked Gabe dead center in the eyes. “You might be able to control yourself, Gabe MacGowan, and remain calm and collected and unaffected by, well, you know. Me.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not quite that strong. I’m the type of person whose emotions can’t just be bottled up. For long.”
“I see,” he said, his voice smooth and nonflustered.
Allie frowned and ducked under his arm once more and this time, she made it. She scooted down the short hallway toward the bathroom, but again, she didn’t make it.
“Enough, lass,” Gabe said as he spun her around. Once more, she found herself pressed against the wall. “Do you think I find any of this easy?” His breathing came a bit faster now, frustrated, maybe even angry. He dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning closer to her ear as though making sure no one else heard his confession but him. “Dunna think for one bloody second I’m no’ dyin’ inside to touch you.” His gaze dropped, and one hand grazed her hip, eased over to where her sweater didn’t quite cover her stomach, and slipped a knuckle over the sensitive skin by her navel.
Allie sucked in a sharp breath, just at the contact.
His gaze then slowly lifted back up to her throat, her mouth, and then to her eyes. “I’m starved for you, Allie Morgan, wild-hungry to taste you.” His voice dropped lower still, his brogue thick, and this time, with his eyes still fixed to Allie’s, he brushed his lips over hers. “To take you.” He closed his eyes shut, hung his head, and breathed. Then he looked up again. “Dunna you understand, lass? If I started to touch you, I’m no’ sure I’d ever have the power or desire to stop.”
Allie wet her lips and stared into Gabe’s stormy green eyes. “Maybe I wouldn’t want you to stop, Gabe MacGowan.” She dared not touch him, for she could already feel the wound-up barely contained explosion within Gabe’s body. Her voice dropped to a whisper on its own. “Maybe I want you just as badly.” She laughed softly. “Need you.”
Gabe’s eyes closed, and he swore. “I promise, love,” he said, his voice hoarse. He looked at her. “It’s more than that. It has to do with me no’ losin’ control. ’Tis something I vowed never to do again.”
Suddenly, it hit Allie like a ton of bricks.
It had to do with his sobriety. Not just about keeping her reputation intact. It had to do with making sure he stayed in complete control of his urges, including the ones that tempted him to drink.
Inwardly, Allie cringed. Could she be any more selfish?
Outwardly, she threw her arms
around Gabe’s neck, kissed his cheek, and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she said against his throat. “I’m—I wasn’t thinking.”
Gabe’s arms went around her, one hand cradling the back of her head. His body shook, and his breathing was ragged, but he managed a soft laugh. “ ’Tis all right, love. ’Twill be fine.” He kissed her temple. “Let’s just rest up before morning. ’Tis nearly midnight.”
So together they held each other in the moonlit hall of the cottage, and through Allie’s desire she realized Gabe’s sheer determined strength, and she discovered she loved him even more than before.
He pulled back and looked at her. “I’m a strong man, Allie Morgan, but no’ strong enough to sleep with you in my arms and behave.”
Allie didn’t say anything. She just smiled.
And Gabe left her, went to the spare bedroom, and shut the door.
Sometime later, after Allie had drifted off to sleep, she awakened with a start. She lay there in the small room of the cottage, gathered her bearings, and stared into the darkness. She felt sure she’d heard—
“No!” Gabe’s voice called out, frantic, angry. “Damn you, Kait, no!”
Allie threw the covers back and hit the floor running. Though the same moon shone silvery light through the picture windows, she still stumbled through the shadows until she reached Gabe’s room. Without hesitation, she opened the door and hurried in.
She stopped dead in her tracks. The icy temperature nearly robbed her breath. Allie immediately recognized the coldness. An intense, restless spirit was close by. It was a telltale sign.
She stifled a gasp. A filmy, transparent soul stood next to Gabe’s bed. His wife . . .
Allie kept her eye trained on the malevolent spirit and approached Gabe with caution. The moonlight fell across him, and he writhed in his bed, out of the covers, still wearing his jeans but bare-chested. He spoke in Gaelic, so much of what he said Allie didn’t understand. What she did understand, though, was Gabe MacGowan was terrified.
Then the soul moved its stare from Gabe to Allie, and she felt a coldness settle over her that she’d not experienced in all her years of dealing with souls. Chunks of hair were missing; pale, puckered skin covered a too-skinny frame, one eye socket sat empty and blackened, and the mouth, crooked in a way that suggested a broken jaw, flailed open, shadowy. Frightening.