Perfect Timing 2: Highland Fling

by Jennifer Labrecque

  “How do we contact you if we need to in the next two weeks?” Kate asked. She didn’t want to know how he was going to secure what would clearly be an illegal passport.

  He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a pen and paper. “If you have any questions—or if you just want to do lunch—” he jotted down a number and handed it to her “—give me a call on my cell.”

  9

  “GOOD NIGHT.” The same blazer-clad attendant who’d merely given her a cursory glance on the way in, was now all smiles and checking Darach out. Not surprising.

  Hamish definitely had an eye for clothes. MacTavish was drop-dead gorgeous in a kilt—and she had first-hand knowledge that he was equally drop-dead gorgeous in the buff—but this suit…. The trousers and jacket were a fine wool/cashmere blend that hung from his broad shoulders and lean hips as if it had been custom-made to showcase his body. A black collared shirt, top button left open, completed the outfit. His long black hair hung past his shoulders and framed the masculine beauty of his face with his hooded eyes, harsh nose, and sensual mouth.

  By rights, Darach should have been just another person in a city of thousands. In 1744, at Glenagan, he was laird with absolute power. But obviously his arrogance, surety, power came from within because even in a vastly different time and place, he still exuded power, intelligence, fearlessness and sex appeal—a dark, dangerous man to reckon with and sexy beyond reason.

  Small wonder the museum attendant couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. Kate bid the woman good-night and pushed through the glass doors with Darach right behind her.

  They stepped out into Atlanta’s warm autumn evening. The door closed behind them and Kate stopped to give Darach a moment to take it all in and get his bearings. Leaves, kicked up by a wind carrying a hint of chill, danced about their feet. Traffic flowed along Peachtree Street, a cacophony of sound—the muted blare of rap played too loud, the intermittent honk of horns, the rumble of cars, and the voices of pedestrians. The city, the resplendent melting pot of the south, lay before them.

  “This is Atlanta, Georgia,” she said. What would he think of her world and the city she’d adopted as her own in the last few years? Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she realized she was nervous which was altogether silly. It didn’t matter what he thought of her world any more than her opinion of his. She had been sent to give him a heads-up. He was here seeking a solution. End of story. It was amazing their paths had crossed in the vastness of time. But that’s all it was, a brief encounter outside time’s continuum as she knew it, as the world knew it. She needed to bear that in mind.

  For a full minute he scanned the horizon, his gaze sharp, and she knew he missed nothing from the hi-rises to the couple hand-holding at the museum’s courtyard fountain to their left. “It has a strange beauty. I’ve been to Edinburgh before, but much here is beyond my ken.”

  Kate thought back to when she’d looked out of the castle window at the small village and then the moor that seemed to stretch for miles beyond. She recalled how she’d felt and saw her city through his eyes and his perspective. “It’s amazing isn’t it?”

  “Aye. Even though I don’t understand all that I see, ’tis amazing indeed.” He turned to her and it was as if a laser had pinpointed her. He had an intensity about him, an energy. He’d dismissed the city and focused now on her. Despite the wind-borne chill, a flush spread through her. “And ’tis amazing I’m here. Thank you, Katie-love, for coming to get me.” He caught her hand up in his, his touch tingling through her. “Thank you for giving me the chance to save my people—for bringing me back with you.”

  He turned her hands in his and brought them to his mouth. He pressed a warm kiss to the blue vein in her wrist, his lips lingering on her pulse point as if he were paying homage to the beat of her heart, to the life force flowing through her. Kate’s breath caught in her throat and time seemed to hang suspended, wrapping them in an intimacy. He raised his head and the air chilled her skin in the absence of his warmth.

  “My pleasure, Darach MacTavish.”

  The heat in his hooded eyes told her he felt the same sexual tug. “Aye. And your pleasure is my pleasure. How far to your home from here?”

  His husky tone left her pulse racing and her body humming a response. Yes, they had a mission and this was all new and different to him, but they also had two weeks to come up with a solution. Thus far today, they’d made tremendous progress. She was here and he was here. And now she’d like to take him home and get him out of that suit. She wanted to feel him hot and hard inside her again.

  “My car’s at the hospital—about a twenty-minute walk. It’s another ten minute drive to my place.”

  The wind shifted his hair against his collar. “Take me to your home, Katie.” The look in his eyes said he wanted the same thing she did.

  The walk passed quickly. Along the way Kate explained the technology that formed the backdrop for her world—automobiles, electricity, cell phones, mass transit. Darach, a quick study, asked intelligent, thoughtful questions. Below the surface of their very urbane discussion, the fire of want and need burned between them, licked at them with flames of desire.

  Although he looked at everything with a genuine interest, he seemed oblivious to the myriad female heads he turned. They didn’t pass a woman, young or old, who didn’t look twice at him. A few even stopped and gawked, but they all noticed.

  It reminded her of a demonstration her fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Fitzroy, had performed in elementary school. Mrs. Fitzroy had scattered metal filings all over a table. Then she’d dragged a large magnet down the table’s center. All the filings had skimmed across the surface, drawn by the force of the magnet. The magnet, however, had not been impacted at all by the clinging filings.

  She wouldn’t lie to herself. It was heady stuff that he didn’t even blink an eye of interest in their direction. All of his energy, all of his attention remained centered on her.

  They stood at the corner, part of a crowd, waiting on the traffic light to change. Ahead of them, a couple stood, arms twined about each other’s waist. Darach slipped his arm about her waist, leaned down and murmured in her ear, “I dunnae want to lose you in the crush.”

  She slid her arm around him, beneath the edge of his jacket, welcoming his heat and the play of muscle beneath his shirt. “And here I thought you just wanted to touch me.”

  He leaned down, his breath gusting warm against her ear. “Aye. I want to touch you. And when we get to your house, I’ll show you….”

  Maybe she was giddy at having managed to get back home and bring him with her. Perhaps it was the sexual energy flowing between them. But, on impulse, she slid her hand down his waist, over his backside and grabbed his left cheek. He started in surprise. She smiled up at him and widened her eyes in faux innocence. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Wench.” His eyes glinted with a volatile combination of laughter and sexual heat. She’d try not to get a speeding ticket getting them to her condo.

  The light changed and they crossed the street, dodging a workboot on the other corner that someone had obviously lost. MacTavish looked at her, one eyebrow raised in question. She shook her head and laughed. “I have no idea.”

  They were half a block from the hospital and Kate was about to point out where she worked when someone hailed her from behind.

  “Kate? Dr. Wexford?”

  She fully intended to pretend she simply hadn’t heard but MacTavish ruined that plan by coming to a dead halt, stopping her with him. “Someone’s calling for you.”

  Peachy. She knew. And she knew who—she’d recognized the voice. And she’d prefer dental drilling without the benefit of novocaine over stopping to talk, but MacTavish had left her with no option. She played stupid.

  “Oh? Really?” She looked over her shoulder just as Torri bore down on them, her predatory gleam devouring Darach.

  “Hello, Dr. Campbell,” Kate said.

  Torri tossed her long blonde hair over
one shoulder, a look-at-me seductive move Kate had seen her employ hundreds of times. “It was you. I was standing in the back, waiting on the light and I thought it was you, but I wasn’t certain.”

  Kate saw it in Torri’s surprised expression. Of all people, Torri had seen her grab Darach’s ass. Good.

  “It’s me.”

  More hair tossing and a lip moué to go with it this time. Torri was pulling out all the stops. “So, this is your hot date?” She looked Darach up and down like a hungry dog eyeing a juicy bone. “I can see why you were so eager to end your shift.”

  Bitch! Not only was she laying him naked on his back with her eyes, Torri made it sound as if Kate had shunned her duty and run out of the hospital when in actuality she’d stayed two hours after her shift had officially ended. If she pointed that out then she, Kate, would be the one who came off looking bitchy—it was simply one of those injustices in life. And while she might’ve pretended she didn’t hear Torri, she couldn’t not offer the introduction Torri was angling for so blatantly.

  “Torri, this is, Darach MacTavish. Darach, Dr. Torri Campbell.”

  With the overnight bag Hamish had provided in his left hand, Darach had to take his arm from around Kate to shake Torri’s hand. Yet one more reason to dislike her.

  “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Campbell.” His mouth said one thing but his stiff body and terse handshake said another. His attitude clicked a thought into place for Kate. Torri bore the same last name as those that had killed his mother and brothers.

  “Hmmm.” The woman actually purred. “Love the accent. And the pleasure’s all mine.”

  Kate wouldn’t have been surprised had Torri gone into a writhing orgasm then and there on the sidewalk. Darach regained his hand and wrapped his arm around Kate again.

  “You are gorgeous.” She visually ate him up. Kate wasn’t given to violence, but she had a terrible itch to slap the lasciviousness off the other woman’s face. Torri shot Kate an arch look. “I can see why you’ve been hiding him from the rest of us.” Men seemed blind to Torri’s cattiness, but Kate very clearly read Torri’s incredulity that Darach was with her. “What a shame. Kate said you’re leaving town tomorrow.”

  “Nae. I will be here a fortnight.” Thank you, MacTavish. He wanted Torri to know he’d be around? Kate felt as if he’d dashed cold water in her face. “Mayhap, ’tis her other man who is on his way out of town, eh, Katie?”

  “Right.” She laughed up at him for Torri’s benefit. “You know you’re the only one, darling.”

  Torri totally ignored Kate and sent her mane flying once again. Amazing that she didn’t have a chronic neck condition. “Really? For two weeks. That’s fabulous. Where are you staying?”

  “Why, with Katie, of course.”

  “I know she keeps a busy schedule. Give me a call. I’d be glad to show you around the city.” She looked at Kate. “Anything to help a friend.” Uh-huh. And Kate would love to invest in some oceanfront property in Kansas. Torri stroked Darach’s left arm. “I know how time can drag when you’re alone with nothing fun to do.”

  “You are a good friend to Katie to offer—”

  What? If he…

  “—but I need that time when she is at work. Keep it to yourself,” he lowered his voice as if sharing a secret—Torri leaned in closer, “because I would rather the other lads not know, but she fair wears me out and I need that time to recover.” His intimate smile, now aimed at Kate, was obviously that of a lover. For a second it was just the two of them when she smiled back at him. Darach glanced back at Torri. “I am not complaining, no man would, but my Katie-love is a lusty wench.”

  Torri’s face portrayed a fast-action sequence of expressions. Surprise. Consternation. Fury. A tight smile. “Who would’ve guessed? Well, if you get bored or lonely, just give me a call. I’m in the book.”

  “I dunnae think so.”

  Torri turned on her heel and marched down the sidewalk.

  “I dinnae like her. She is a bluidy Campbell and you cannae trust her, Katie. I dinnae like the way she looked at you. That is why I told her I would be here a fortnight.”

  Darach, ever the protector—except Kate didn’t need protecting from anyone, not even Torri. Delighted by his response, Kate laughed. “I certainly didn’t like the way she looked at you.”

  Kate could’ve kissed him for what he’d just done and said. In fact, that seemed like a grand idea. Despite the fact that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of her hospital, Kate wrapped her other arm around his neck and kissed him, short and hard and full of promise.

  “Your lusty wench is ready to go home,” she murmured in his ear.

  Darach released her and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Nay, not until I have heard about this other man.” Planted in the middle of the sidewalk, he looked about as tractable as dried glue.

  Was that a note of jealousy or insecurity or perhaps both? “There is no other man.”

  “Then who was she talking about? You told her you had a man who was leaving after tonight?”

  Why did he have to remember that part? This was going to be more than a little embarrassing and slightly complicated. Not the discussion to have on the sidewalk of Peachtree Street on a busy Friday evening.

  “This isn’t exactly the place to discuss it. I’ll explain on the way home.”

  They made it to the parking garage without running into anyone else Kate knew. She’d barely closed the car door, and hadn’t gotten as far as the key in the ignition, when Darach said, “How could I have been the man you were meeting earlier since you had no inkling you were going back in time to Scotland? You had not even met me.”

  Torri would’ve probably run with his assumption there was another man on the scene. And while it would probably be good for the arrogant laird of Glenagan to think he wasn’t the only man in her life, it wasn’t Kate’s style.

  “Just listen for a minute, okay?” The dome light went out and she welcomed the dark as she brought him up to speed.

  “I knew tonight was the last night before the exhibit closed. I felt foolish that I kept going to see your portrait, even though I was the only one that knew. I was in the doctor’s lounge freshening up when Torri came in. You’ve seen first-hand how catty she can be. She had an audience so she started needling me as to whether I was getting ready for a date, fully expecting that I didn’t have one.” God, she was about to sound truly foolish and juvenile. “I knew I was going to see you so you became my date. I told her you traveled and would be leaving town after tonight.”

  Darach stared at her for a moment and then he threw back his head and laughed. “Aye, Kate, you are a clever lass and a lusty wench. Let’s go home.”

  10

  “HERE WE ARE. This is my condo. Just a second,” she said, fitting her key in the lock.

  They’d taken that thing she’d called a car, which was a very elegant carriage that moved without benefit of horses, left it in a cave she called a parking garage, climbed flights of stairs and now they were almost in her home, a place inside a maze of a building.

  ’Twas not a minute too soon. Darach fair ached with the need to have her, especially after she’d confessed to visiting his portrait often, fantasizing about him, and then making him out to be a real man, her man, to that harridan they’d met outside. She had but to look at him to know he existed…somewhere. He had only to smell her scent, to feel a brush of her skin against his and he wanted her.

  He cupped her buttocks from behind and squeezed. Not a grab as she’d done with him on the street corner, but slower, more of a caress. She slanted a glance over her shoulder.

  “I couldnae help myself,” Darach said, echoing her earlier explanation for grabbing him.

  “You’d use my own words against me.” She laughed, an edgy breathy sound, and opened the door. “Here it is. Home sweet home.”

  He followed her in. At a glance, he took measure of the room. Pale orange, the sky’s hue when da
wn crept over the moor, washed her walls. Bookcases, full of neatly organized books, lined a wall. A desk boasting clean, simple lines stood in one corner and the wall opposite the door was naught but glass, the city glowing beyond. Worn wood covered her floor. ‘Twas vastly different from his castle, yet he knew a sense of home, of recognition. It felt of Katie. It contained her scent.

  “I leave a couple of lights on timers so they’ll come on before I get home,” she said, indicating a lamp that glowed in the corner of the room. “I hate walking into a dark room.”

  He dropped the satchel containing his kilt and boots on the floor. “I dunnae care about the lights.” He wrapped his fingers about her arms and pulled her to him.

  “Me either.” Her keys and satchel joined his on the floor. She fitted her body against his, linking her arms about his neck. The feel of her in his arms fair drove him to madness. He buried his hands in her curls and kissed her with a need bordering on pain.

  He felt as if he’d lost a part of himself when he’d crossed to her time. A part that he’d find in her. He hadn’t dared touch her since she’d kissed him on the street, but now….

  She slid her hand between them and cupped him through his breeches. She broke the kiss. “I’ve got a reputation as a lusty wench to live up to,” she murmured against his mouth.

  He responded to her sexy teasing. “You are not angry about that are you, Katie-love?”

  “Angry?” She laughed and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Hardly. I should offer to pay you for saying it.”

  “Aye. I ken just the payment I favor….” He slid his hand beneath the hem of her shirt, over her smooth skin to the soft fullness of her breast. Her tip pebbled against his hand.

  “Oh.” She worked the front of his breeches open and slipped her hand inside, her clever fingers stroking his rod through his undergarment. “I always pay my debts.”