“I guess I should have sent a note, but, you know, a little bird told me that you had been demoted and put on desk duty so I didn’t think you’d mind if I carried on without your okay.” From everything Danny had been able to dig up for her, she knew that Jameson had been officially reprimanded for the excessive and borderline illegal measures he had taken during the search for both Hugh and the Native American escapee. “How did you even come across me here so conveniently? There are a thousand places I could have been today.”
Jameson only frowned, ignoring the taunt, and stared across the field, taking in the competition on the field. “You are still a difficult woman to run to ground. Thankfully, your new neighbors knew where you had done this weekend. Tell me, which one is he?”
“Can’t you guess?” She waved her hand at the field of men dressed in kilts. “They all look alike, don’t they? So you tell me. Which one is your savage?”
“Shall I bring them all in, then?”
“Call me a skeptic but I don’t think the NSA has that kind of power over here, even if you were still on the case … oh, that’s right. The case is closed, isn’t it? Yes, I know that and more,” Claire went on boldly, refusing to let Jameson’s appearance fluster her. There was little chance that his superiors had endorsed his search for her, which meant that Jameson had taken up a personal vendetta against Hugh. “Even if you still had the authority, how would you explain yourself? Explain who you were looking for?”
“I could just take in the first undocumented highlander I come across.”
A slow smile curled her lip. “You do that.”
He turned to look at her with a furrowed brow that spoke clearly of his frustration. “He’s not what you think, Mrs. Manning.”
“So you’ve said a dozen times, but let’s agree to disagree, all right?” she said. “There is no threat officially or unofficially any longer. Your director saw to that, didn’t he? Stop wasting more taxpayer money … or your own, since I’d be willing to bet that your director doesn’t know you’re here. Should we call and ask?”
Jameson just frowned and shook his head. “I can’t leave, knowing what I know. You wouldn’t either, if you knew.”
“I’ve read the files and can even read between the lines, Phil.”
“Then you know he’s not human.”
“He’s incredibly human,” Claire whispered, turning her head as Hugh’s warm laughter joined that of the other men in kilts, pretenders to the Highland legacy. He belonged here. This wasn’t his home but it was the closest he would ever have. She refused to let Jameson ruin that for him. “You’re a fool to pursue this, Phil, and you’re even crazier if you think that a little world politics is all that would blow up if the magnitude of what Fielding did got loose. You should consider yourselves lucky to have gotten off with just a slap on the hand … so far, of course. Could be worse for you if it all somehow managed to get out … and it will if you don’t leave it alone. What would Nichols say, with his impending retirement and all?”
“Still trying to blackmail me?”
“Merely attempting to make you see that you are jumping at shadows. Stop trying to pretend that you know more than the scientists, Phil. If there was any real danger to the world at large, as you seem to think, Fielding’s entire office would have been sealed off as a biohazard right from the beginning; did you ever think of that? Just be glad your moneymaker is still intact and everything that resulted from it has been deemed safe.”
Hugh’s biceps bulged against the short sleeves of the T-shirt he wore with his kilt as he lifted the heavy weight once again and flung it over his head with an audible grunt. Up it went over the high bar again, embedding itself with a solid thud into the moist ground of the field. The crowd roared and Claire joined them in their applause as Hugh’s gaze once again searched her out, eager to share his triumph at the accomplishment, but the brash smile slipped away when he saw the man at her side, and a frown took its place as he turned in her direction.
Claire shook her head with a glower of her own but Hugh kept coming. “By the way, it’s not Mrs. Manning any longer. It’s Mrs. Urquhart. I remarried recently. I thought with your connections, you would have known.”
Jameson gaped. “To the savage?”
“No, to that wonderful Scottish man who you missed meeting a few months ago when you ran into his fist. He’s a commodities trader in Inverness. That’s why I’m here, actually … not here as in these games but here in Scotland. I moved here with him.” She continued as Hugh neared, aware that the NSA agent was still staring at her in astonishment, “You’re not going to find what you’re looking for here. Go home, Phil. Find another hobby before I have you arrested for stalking me.”
Hugh jogged up to them and slipped an arm around Claire’s waist before transforming his scowl into a politely inquiring look. “Who’s this, Sorcha?”
“This is Special Agent Phil Jameson from the National Security Agency in the United States,” she said.
“Ah, I dinnae recognize ye … conscious, that is,” Hugh said with a raised brow as he looked the agent up and down speculatively before addressing him directly in the most cultured and regal tones Claire had yet to hear from him. “I thought Agent Nichols had agreed that ye wouldna be bothering us any longer, Jameson.”
“I can’t just let it go. I know who you are.”
Hugh’s voice dropped to an icy chill. “And I know that if ye willnae let Claire live her life wi’out yer constant interference, I will do more than see the details of yer project spread tae the ends of the earth. I will show ye pain such as ye’ve ne’er imagined before I break yer neck wi’ my own two hands.”
“You can’t threaten me. I am a federal agent.”
“And I’m a verra angry and protective Scotsman,” Hugh shot back. “Ye hae nae reason other than yer own paranoia to pursue this. Only Claire’s benevolence saved ye the first time. Leave now before I override her wishes and ye die most … savagely.”
Jameson gaped, his mouth opening and closing as his hand went inside his jacket as if he had forgotten that there was no longer a pistol holstered there. “I will find something, someday to put you back in prison where you belong.”
“Good luck wi’ that,” Hugh mocked as Jameson turned away, knowing that with Danny’s good work there would never be anything for Jameson to find. The agent’s threats were empty ones, while his were not. If Jameson came within a hundred meters of them again, Hugh would happily find a more permanent solution to his meddling in a manner that harkened back to his savage roots.
Hugh gathered Claire into his arms. “Are ye all right, then? Did he threaten ye?”
Claire had to smile at that. “No, but you did a good enough job on him. I doubt he’ll be bothering us anymore.”
“Good,” Hugh said, tracing a light caress down her temple and cheek before slipping his fingers along her jaw and threading them into the hair at the base of her neck. His other hand slid down to splay across her flat abdomen. “Because, I hae a whole new life tae look forward tae with the woman who saved my life.”
Claire laughed, feeling joy warm her heart and soul as she snuggled into High’s loving embrace. “I only tried to save your life, but in the end, it was you who saved me, my handsome Highlander. You brought purpose and laughter back into my life… No, let me amend that. You brought life back into my life. I love you.”
“I love ye more,” Hugh whispered feathering a kiss across her lips.
“I loved you first,” she argued between kisses.
Hugh smiled against her lips. “I said it first.”
“Yes, but I said it first in Engl…”
Catching her tightly in his embrace, Hugh cut off Claire’s playful arguing with a passionate kiss, stealing the words away until they faded into a soft moan of delight. A thousand such arguments might await them in the future but the number paled in comparison to the millions of kisses waiting to be taken.
Author’s Note
After Nothing But T
ime came out, I received numerous notes and emails from readers saying that they wished I had included more about what Brand’s life in the twenty-first century might have been like. I could have gone on and on, of course, but knew that then the story would have also gone on and on and Kate and Brand simply needed their happy ending with an unmapped future before them. But it did get me to thinking about how a man from the past could accustom himself to our time and from that came Hugh – an intellectual who could bridge the learning gap but still a untamed Highlander who was raised on the right of blood and might.
I hope you have enjoyed their tale.
About the Author
Angeline was born in International Falls, Minnesota, the second of six children. As a child, her family moved frequently around the country allowing her to experience the customs of many different regions.
After earning a degree in the U.S. History from the University of Nevada-Las Vegas, Angeline decided to go where the oldest history in the US was and moved to Yorktown, Virginia, where she worked as a historical interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.
It was there that she also met her husband who was in the Navy and stationed at Norfolk. Angeline has two children as well as two stepsons. Once they were older and more self-sufficient, Angeline seized the opportunity to take up her first love and continued to work on the romances she had begun in college.
Angeline is a life-long lover of history and romances. Her first books began the saga of the MacKintosh clan in her Questions for a Highlander series and she also writes in the genres of time travel romance, contemporary romance and YA fiction.
You can follow her on Twitter @angelinefortin or on Facebook.
Also Available by Angeline Fortin
A Laird for All Time
Nothing But Time
My Heart’s in the Highlands
The Questions for a Highlander Series
A Question of Love
A Question of Trust
A Question of Lust
A Perfect Question
A Time & Place for Every Laird Page 34