“The brat gave me a hickey.” The purple love-bite would be hard to hide in summer clothing. The last time someone had placed a mark on her like that was high school and back then, it was a badge of honor, now, not so much. She was so damned relaxed after her horizontal time with Jake that she couldn’t bring herself to care.
She showered quickly and slipped into a summer dress before following her nose to the kitchen.
Jake had fumbled through the cabinets and discovered the coffee cups. He’d found his pants, and left his shirt off as he padded around her space. It would be hard to look at him from across the room and not remember the expression of bliss as he moved over her.
Don’t go getting squishy, she warned herself.
“Find everything?” she asked him.
He poked into the refrigerator. “You take cream, right?”
The fact that he knew, made her smile. “Yeah, top shelf behind the milk.”
He pushed the milk aside, dug through some of her containers of chilled herbs, and removed the creamer. “What is all this stuff?”
“Office supplies,” she told him with a straight face.
“Witch’s brew?”
She laughed, not offended in the least. “You could say that.”
He closed the door with his hip, and poured her a cup, mixed in the cream, and handed it to her. Selma mumbled thanks and sipped. Not bad.
Jake leaned against a counter. “You really believe in all that stuff?”
“What’s surprising isn’t that I believe in it, but that you don’t. You’d think after everything we’ve seen, you’d be onboard by now.”
“Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see.”
She’d heard him say that line before, sipped her coffee and grinned. “Fine. About the half that you’ve seen?”
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his smile fell. “It’s hard to fight what you don’t know. I’m used to fighting bad guys with guns and bad breath, not Druids who turn into animals or pop in from nowhere. It’s damn unnerving.”
“I get that. But as unnerving as it may be, it is real.” To make her point she turned on the light over the sink with her mind.
He eyed it but didn’t flinch. “I believe that. Crazy as it is, but potions, spells?” He shook his head.
Baby steps, she told herself.
Jake crossed the room and set his cup down, took hers from her hand and set it aside before laying one hand on the counter to box her into his personal space. He eyed her neck, and licked the sensitive spot he’d placed there earlier. He reached around her, turned off the kitchen light. “I can turn things off, too.”
She leaned into his lips as shivers ran down her spine. “You turn things on well, too.”
He grabbed her waist, hoisted her on the counter.
Selma leaned back, catching herself, and accidentally hit the answering machine.
Her voice echoed in the room, telling the caller to leave a message while Jake traced her collarbone with his tongue.
“You’re insatiable,” she told him.
“I don’t hear you saying no.”
And he wouldn’t.
The beep of her machine ended and a cold, deadpan voice froze them both.
“You think you can hide from me, bitch? Yeah, that’s right…your home phone number was easy…so was your address.”
Jake’s grip on her tightened as they both stopped all movement.
How did he get her unlisted number? Her address?
“What the hell is that about?”
****
Everything in Kincaid’s world was upside down. Amber never left his head. Her thoughts, her words, emotions. Everything was only a thought away. By morning, he was able to leave their room only to find everyone in the house staring at him, wanting to know his intentions. The fact he knew their thoughts, their needs, itched under his skin, and made his head want to explode. Was this what Amber dealt with for years, and with so many others?
To make matters worse, his body felt as if it had been pulled behind a hover-bike without a net for a hundred miles. He hoped to hell the relative peace he’d managed for the better part of a week would continue. He didn’t need any unexpected battles, or he’d have to shelter Amber and himself until he was strong enough to fight.
Instead of inviting chaos, he holed up in the library with Giles and suffered his friend’s concerned state.
“Stop staring at me,” he finally told the man.
Giles shook his head with a laugh. “Can’t help it. We thought you were going to die. Then when you didn’t, I realized how dramatically your life has changed. Makes a man think.”
“My life isn’t so different.”
“You’re married to a MacCoinnich, Kincaid…an original. Not some descendent passed down through bloodlines over hundreds of years. But the daughter of Ian and Lora. Good God man, do you have any idea what that means?”
Kincaid crossed his arms over his chest. “It means I’m sworn to protect her.”
“It means we’re all sworn to protect her and your children for generations to come. Your own power will grow with your bond, and you were damn near untouchable before your vows.”
That he knew. Perhaps that was why it was taking him so bloody long to recover from his brief illness. He’d not experienced anything close to near-death in all his years of battle, in all the lives he’d taken.
He didn’t want to think of the boost to his gift or the weight of hers that had been with him since he first grasped her hand. Instead of addressing his abilities, he spoke of what didn’t have to be. “There are no guarantees we’ll ever have children.”
Giles laughed outright. “You’re bonded. It’s only a matter of time.”
“We hardly know each other.”
“Yet you’re married.”
Kincaid couldn’t argue that. “Still.”
“You were attracted to her before we found her.”
Kincaid stood, ignored the slight spin of the room, and walked along the wall of old books. “If bonding has sealed our fate of many years and children, why don’t your books talk of us? Why didn’t you find any word of us in the future?”
“I haven’t found a word about Simon and Helen, either.”
“Who would know of them other than us?”
“Good point. Maybe I’m the one who needs to write their story…and yours,” Giles suggested.
“Maybe.” Yet if he did, there would still be a story told somewhere.
“If your story takes place from this time forward, there wouldn’t be any evidence in this library today.”
“And if we all return to our time, the story hasn’t been told yet.”
Giles stood and rolled the ladder along the wall of books. “Would you want to read your story? Know your future? If you knew what would happen between you and Amber, would you have come to this time?”
Kincaid felt his arms grow cold. If he hadn’t come, she would be gone by now. Of that, he had no doubt. “I’m sworn to protect her.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Kincaid felt the headache he’d finally managed to shed returning.
“Maybe instead of asking about the future, we need to look in the past. Who knows, maybe you both return to her time and you manage to wear that kilt you love so much.”
He ignored his friend’s sarcasm, knowing damn well Giles understood his discomfort in a skirt.
Before Kincaid could comment on living in the past, he felt the presence of others and turned toward the door of the library. The sound of the front door slammed at the same time a book fell from one of the top shelves.
A rough voice of a man shouted Simon’s name in the hall.
Jake stood grasping Selma’s arm in the hall while the members in the house took little time to meet them.
Jake held a suitcase, which he promptly tossed at Simon’s feet, and said. “Selma’s staying here.”
“Not necessary, Jake!” Selma pulled
out of his grasp.
“The hell! You have some nutcase stalking you. You’re staying here!”
“Nutcase?” Simon asked.
“Yeah, some freak threatening her life.” Jake turned his back to Simon to glare at Selma.
Helen moved to Selma’s side. “I told you Jake would believe you.”
“Wait? You knew about this?” Jake asked.
Selma pushed between Jake and Helen. “I told Helen and Amber about the email last night.”
“That was before the personal phone call,” Jake said.
“A phone call?” Helen asked.
Simon shoved in. “Wait, what are you talking about? Some of us in the room have no idea what’s going on.”
Kincaid was glad the other man asked. He for one was clueless. He did know, however, Jake was acting out of fear, and even though Selma was defensive and combative, she too was scared. Their emotions were as real as his own.
He met Amber’s gaze and silently said, He believes she’s in real danger.
Agreed. Do you feel this or are you assuming?
Just a knowing. Your gift?
Aye.
“I sent a love potion to a guy in Arizona,” Selma started to explain.
“Several potions.” Jake rolled his eyes.
“Several. And they worked! Just not for him. The girl he wanted ended up realizing her love for someone else.”
Kincaid glanced at Giles and laughed. “Love potions? Seriously?”
“Hey! Don’t judge. A girl has to make a living. Anyway,” Selma tossed her hair over her shoulder as she explained. “The guy was pissed and sent a nasty email—”
“Threatening email,” Jake corrected.
“Then he left a message on my home phone,” Selma told them.
Now that wasn’t a laughing matter, Kincaid thought. The nutcase was probably only that, but that didn’t make him any less of a threat.
“This is the man you think murdered the couple in Arizona?” Helen asked.
Jake swung his gaze from Helen to Selma. “Murdered? What are you not telling me, Matilda?”
“I don’t know if he was that nutcase or not. I got spooked after I saw a newscast. I’m probably paranoid,” Selma told Jake.
Jake rested his hands on his hips and stared at her. “And when did this newscast air?”
Selma shrugged, glanced at her feet. “I don’t know…last weekend.”
“When you came over to my house?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
She’s lying.
“I knew there was something bothering you!” Jake yelled. “Why didn’t you say something then?”
The two of them had their fight while everyone else watched. Seemed Jake was handling everything perfectly. If Selma had been threatened, she needed to be with others. Why she lived outside of the manor was a puzzle to Kincaid anyway. They were stronger together. Always had been.
“Oh, c’mon, Jake. Like you’d believe me. Besides, I didn’t want to bring it up with your girls around. You have enough to worry about.”
“You don’t get to tell me when I can and can’t worry.” Jake moved within three inches of her body.
She glared at him. “And you don’t get to tell me what to do just because we slept together!”
Helen gasped.
Oh, my. Amber’s words shot into Kincaid’s head.
I take it, that’s a new thing? He asked her.
Aye.
Kincaid smiled. He liked this new gift, he decided. The ability to talk to Amber without anyone else hearing them was already turning out to be beneficial.
“You’re right,” Jake told Selma. “It doesn’t. I’ll let everyone here tell you how stupid it is to try and fight an unknown enemy by yourself. My guess is they’ve all done it more than once.” He poked a finger in her chest. “You, on the other hand, haven’t.”
“Jake—”
He placed a finger over her lips. “I’ll find the bad guy. You keep your skinny ass here and stay out of my way.”
“But—”
Kincaid spoke at the same time as Simon. “He’s right.”
“Selma?”
Kincaid nodded for Simon to continue.
“Jake is right. You know he is. You’re safe here.”
The tension in the room slowly drifted to a low purr. From down the hall, Mrs. Dawson issued a request.
“Amber, Helen? Why don’t you prepare one of the rooms for our guest? Selma, dear, can you please help me in the kitchen. You do seem to have a way with herbs.”
Selma growled at Jake as she walked past him, and Helen and Amber moved in the opposite direction.
“Stubborn woman,” Jake whispered under his breath.
Chapter Twenty-One
After two painfully quiet days and nights, Kincaid wanted, no needed, to break free.
He purposefully let Amber have the room and slept anywhere but at her side. He didn’t want her feeling pressured, didn’t want her questioning his intentions. Not that he knew his intentions. He was a married man in the blink of an eye, and he had no way of knowing how to handle the new status in life.
He’d watched his wife slowly come out of the shell he’d seen her in since they met. Her smile was brighter, her personality bigger. She wore pants with the encouragement of Selma and Helen, and managed to keep herself out of his head whenever she wanted. Something he had yet to master.
Still, when he cornered her in the yard, she appeared shocked. “You and I are leaving here in one hour,” he told her.
She blinked. The smile on her face didn’t fall as she turned away from her friends to speak to him. “Leave?”
“A date. You and I. One hour.” He turned then and left the other women to explain the word that circled in her head like a cloud.
A date?
Ask Helen and Selma. They’ll explain.
She was quiet then, until a half hour later when the inevitable question was asked.
What shall I wear?
Kincaid stood before the bathroom mirror and smiled as her question popped in his head.
Women were predictable about that same question throughout all times. What you have on is fine.
He found Simon in the library with Giles. The two of them had been bent over the books for some time, neither of them taking notice of him. “Amber and I are leaving for a few hours.”
Simon and Giles sat motionless as they took in his words.
“Leaving?” Simon asked.
“A date. We won’t be gone long.”
“A date?”
Kincaid held his ground through Simon’s stare.
“Yes.” He lifted his hand. “I need the keys to the R8.”
“My car?”
“I’d take Mrs. Dawson’s Lincoln, but I’m more familiar with the power of yours.”
Giles sat forward. “You have an R8…as in a combustible engine Audi? Really?”
Simon gave a curt nod, his eyes never leaving Kincaid’s. “Where are you going?”
“Dinner. Alone. We’re bonded, Simon. She’s safe with me.” The man took his role as protector seriously, but Simon had no idea how seriously Kincaid took the role.
“The key is on the hook in the kitchen. There’s a cell phone in the car.”
Kincaid offered thanks and moved through the library with purpose. The western wall, three shelves up, he found the book titled Contingency. The same book was situated in the exact space in his time. There, he removed the book, opened it, and found several bills of the currency of the time.
“What the—?”
“Mr. Dawson’s legacy is embedded in this library. The man knew more than he let his wife know.”
Simon stood, crossed the room, and looked at the hollowed out book filled with hundred dollar bills.
“Emergency money is always here, no matter the time or the currency used.”
Simon frowned. “What do you need all that for?”
Kincaid sucked in a breath. “My wife.”
&nbs
p; Showered, clean, and ready to take his wife on their first date, Kincaid met Amber at the foot of the stairs as she walked toward him. She wore black slacks with a tiny black halter shirt and sheer black cover up. She was dressed like him, and it didn’t go unnoticed. It was impossible to notice the little things that hadn’t been there before. The small amount of makeup, the way her hair was slicked back. Put her in tight leather, and she would resemble the exact image of a female warrior of his time.
Damn she was beautiful. The large dark gaze, the full sensual lips…the smile.
He envisioned the stream he’d seen in her head for days to keep her from seeing every thought inside his mind.
He offered his arm, which she took with a coy smile.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her.
A rose blush filled her cheeks.
What are you up to?
Her voice pushed through his head.
“Let’s try and speak out loud,” he suggested.
“All right.” She stood back, only her fingertips touched his arm. “Where are we going, Mr. Kincaid?”
The stream ran in his head, he hoped his thoughts were hidden. “You don’t know?”
“Nay,” she told him. “I do not.”
“Good.” He winked and pulled her out the door. “My guess is you haven’t been outside of this house much since you’ve been here.”
They walked down the steps of the manor to the waiting car.
Amber hesitated at the door of the car, and her anxiety wavered over him.
“Twice. I’ve left this home two times since my parents left me here.”
Kincaid paused and opened his mind. You’re safe with me, Amber. Always.
She offered a nod, but her anxiety was palpable.
He tucked her in the car and moved to the driver’s seat. He hadn’t driven a gas-powered vehicle in years, but much like anything learned as a child, he knew enough to make the car work.
As they left the sanctuary of the manor, Amber’s anxiety increased.
With purpose, Kincaid reinforced the barrier between the two of them and the world. “I won’t let any other emotions hit you,” he promised her.
“I keep waiting for their return,” she told him. “The voices.”
“You’ve managed to wield my power since our bond. Have the emotions of others returned?”
Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels Book Five) Page 18