“Just curious.” He leaned against the barn beside her. “’Tis risky to do around so much hay.”
She knew that better than most. The truth was she hadn’t realized she was flicking her lighter. Just a habit at this point she supposed. So she pocketed it and grunted, “My habits are my business.”
“Aye.” He shrugged as if he understood. “I ken the need of habits.”
“Ken?”
His brows lowered as if she was the one a few cards shy of a full deck now. “Ken.” He seemed to struggle with the best way to explain before saying, “It means to understand.”
“Ah.” She kept eying him mostly because he was well worth looking at. “So what’s your habit, Scotsman?”
He grinned and eyed her again. “Lasses.”
She cocked the corner of her lip. “Oh yeah?”
His brows rose as if he thought she might be interested in that fact. “Aye.”
“Then let’s get one thing straight now.” She gave him a pointed look. “I won’t become one of your habits.”
But man had it been a long time since she’d had sex. Far too long. So she knew being around this guy wasn’t a good idea. Because he was just the type she’d be willing to ride.
Almost as if he could hear her thoughts a slow grin crawled onto his face and he winked. “Then I’ll try to keep my habit under control when you’re around, lass.”
Erin cursed under her breath when her heart skipped a beat and heat flared beneath her skin. She didn’t do relationships but she’d sure as hell go for a one night stand. Her eyes shot to the house. Or an ‘afternoon’ stand. Aw, hell. What was she thinking? Enough with this. Time to figure things out.
“I need answers.” She leaned her shoulder against the wall and faced him. “Where is everyone? And again, who exactly are you?”
“I told you already.” He remained where he was, casual as could be. “Rònan MacLeod.”
“Yeah, got that.” She held his gaze. “But I’d like the whole story. Why are you here and not my friends? And why does your accent thicken on occasion?”
She conveniently set aside Nicole and Jackie’s chatter about medieval Highlanders. No way. No how.
“I’ll tell you why I’m here, Jackie,” he said. “If you tell me why you look so different.”
So they were back to that.
It took everything she had not to step away when he fingered a lock of her hair. She wasn’t a huge fan of having her personal space invaded. Yet, like before, she didn’t pull away.
“So the missing lass finally arrives,” came a soft voice.
Erin’s eyes shot to the Scotsman who strolled out of the barn. This one was nearly as hot as Rònan with his pale grayish blue eyes and mahogany streaked black hair. The stark difference between the two was that he wore a blue and green plaid, tunic and tall black boots.
Hand on the hilt of the knife in her pocket, she narrowed her eyes. “Do I know you?”
“You should know all of us by now…” He eyed her with almost as much interest as Rònan had. “Erin.”
“Erin?” Rònan’s eyes narrowed on her. “When were you going to share as much?”
Before she could answer, the guy who had just arrived spoke to her. “Darach’s the name. But I’m sure you’ve already heard of me, aye?”
Jackie had mentioned his name. Regardless. Him showing up here didn't make the tall tale any truer. Even in light of his strange outfit. It couldn't be all that difficult to find clothes like that or to have them made.
Erin ignored Rònan’s question and shot her retaliation Darach’s way. “Yeah, I’ve heard of you. And seeing how you seem to know who I am, maybe you could tell me where my friends are.” She inflicted just enough threat into her voice. “Now.”
“Och, she’s not so trusting is she,” Rònan said to Darach, his eyes flickering from the hand in her pocket to her face.
He knew she had a weapon. Good.
“Nay. She isnae.” Darach eyed Rònan. “Bloody hell, Cousin. I never thought I’d see you in modern day clothing.”
Rònan shrugged. “I thought it was best to try and fit in.”
Fit in? Erin rolled her eyes. These guys were determined to play the part of Highlanders who traveled through time, weren’t they? She almost said as much but something about the shit-eating grin on Rònan’s face knocked the wind right out of her. He really was good looking and hell if he didn’t know it.
Erin frowned at the unexpected twinkle in his eyes when he caught her staring. Screw that. She headed for the house. When Darach caught up, she hid her surprise at what sounded like genuine distress in his voice. “Are you sure Jackie’s not here? Bradon and Leslie assured me she would remain here under their protection.”
“Under their protection? C’mon.” She shook her head. “I’ll bet you’re the one who fed her and Nicole all this ‘time travel protect the future king of Scotland’ crap to begin with, huh?”
“If you’d bothered to spend more time here you wouldn’t need convincing.” Darach followed her into the house. “But at least you’re here now so we can keep you safe.”
“I can keep myself safe,” she said.
Erin stopped in the foyer as Darach muttered something indiscernible before he started romping through the rooms and calling out for Jackie.
“Your friends are in medieval Scotland,” Rònan said, so close behind her that she jumped. The guy was admirably light on his feet considering he was so large. He’d be good at stealth.
“Yeah, sure, they’re in medieval Scotland.” Erin rolled her eyes, headed into the kitchen and poured another shot of whisky. “Whatever you say.”
“‘Tis true.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “Cassie is at MacLomain Castle and I just left Nicole with Niall at the mountain. They’re all safe enough for now.”
“Right. Niall. The guy Nicole can’t stand. I heard a little bit about him.” Her eyes went to Rònan. “But not a word about you.”
Rònan didn't seem all that concerned.
“Nicole and Niall have come a long way since you last saw her,” he said. “’Tis safe to say she’ll be his wife soon.”
Erin chuckled and it felt strange. Laughing wasn’t her thing. At least not for a long time.
“I can’t imagine Nicole hooking up with any one guy let alone marrying him.” She eyed Rònan. “So you just killed your story.”
“Hooking up?” Rònan said.
“Hell, you really should have visited this century more.” Darach returned and poured himself a shot. “It means coupling.”
“Ah.” Rònan’s eyes never left her. “Then they have definitely hooked up. Often. And in enviable ways. Niall’s a lucky bastard.”
Erin got the impression he was fishing for a certain kind of reaction. Feeling her out. Baiting her without meaning to. Like a man who flirted with and had sex with far too many women because he could. Because they never said no. As if he sensed she was on to him, Rònan's brows lowered sharply before he frowned and looked away. Now he reminded her of a guy who was just caught cheating. Heck if she didn’t know what one of those looked like. Because she did. All too well.
“So why did you think I was Jackie?” Curious, she kept her gaze on Rònan. “Who’s she to you?”
Darach cut in before Rònan could answer. “Niall filled me in on your visions.” He frowned at his cousin. “But Jackie cannae be meant for you.”
“’Tis likely why you followed me here so swiftly, aye?” Rònan’s eyes narrowed and his brogue thickened. “Worried that I might win her over upon first sight, Cousin?”
Darach’s eyes narrowed as well. “Not in the least.”
“Alrighty boys, if it’s gonna be a contest to see who’s got the biggest dick, take it outside.” Convinced these morons didn’t mean her any harm, she tossed aside her black leather jacket and sat on the counter. Rònan had the right idea when he drank directly from the bottle, so she took a swig.
Erin lowered the bottle slowly when the room grew
unnaturally quiet.
Their eyes were locked on her.
Or should she say the ring on the chain around her neck.
“What?” Erin fingered the Claddagh ring. “It showed up on my finger after I visited last time. I’m not sure why.” She shrugged. “No worries. I was gonna return it.”
Total lie. Well, partly. Inexplicably drawn to it, she’d stolen the ring. She intended to return it. Or so she kept telling herself.
“’Tis one of the four original rings.” Rònan cocked his head. “You were able to remove it from your finger?”
“Yeah, sure.” But for some reason when she put it back on, it didn’t feel right. Yet when she tried to tuck it away, she felt sick to her stomach. So she ended up putting it around her neck. “It’s a pretty typical thing, taking off a ring.”
“You know what that Claddagh ring means, right?” Darach asked.
Oh, she’d heard the far-fetched tale from Nicole. They were rings meant to bring together true love between Brouns and MacLomains. “I know what the rings are supposed to mean and just to be clear, I don’t buy it for a sec.”
Erin tried her damnedest to keep her breathing even when Rònan came close and fingered the ring. Her eyes fell to the light layer of stubble on his strong jaw and the cut of his firm but sensual lips. When her nipples tightened in response to his proximity, she wished she’d worn a padded bra. Yet for some reason when he inhaled deeply and his knowing eyes met hers, she knew it had nothing to do with her nipples.
No, this guy had razor sharp senses far beyond simple eyesight.
Disarmed by the flare of his pupils and the way he shifted closer, she went still. Too still. Despite efforts not to, she stopped breathing. If she wasn’t mistaken, he did too.
“We need to figure out where Jackie is. Better yet, why Bradon and Leslie aren’t here watching over her,” Darach said, clearly interrupting the moment on purpose. “After all, didn’t you swear an oath to save her?”
“Aye,” Rònan murmured, noticeably disappointed in himself for becoming distracted.
“An oath? That sounds serious.” Obviously, they were determined to keep up with this game of theirs so she went with it. Anything to further understand what was going on. “And what exactly were you supposed to be saving her from, Rònan?”
“As your friends already told you, Brae Stewart and her evil demi-god Laird,” Darach said then downed a shot of whisky. “But there’s no way they’ve got Jackie.” Yet his expression was troubled. “Bradon would have told us.”
Right, because Bradon was apparently from medieval Scotland too. Leslie, his wife, was a modern day Broun like Erin and her friends.
Erin started to talk but her voice broke off. Her vocal chords just fizzled out. Crap. This was happening more and more lately. Instead of clearing her throat and trying again, she headed outside. She’d just reached the oak out front when something changed. Shifted. At first, she thought it was the weather but no, it was still bright and sunny.
“Time to go, lass.”
Erin barely processed Rònan’s words before he flung her over his shoulder and ran for the barn.
What. The. Hell.
She had little time to flail before he plunked her down between stalls. The horses were agitated but the men seemed to know what they were doing as they swiftly started saddling two of them.
Erin might’ve dismissed everything else Nicole told her but she remembered the names of the horses. The black one that had arrived in her trailer today was obviously Tosha. That meant ‘satisfaction’ in Scotland. The other horse, a pale thoroughbred with a blond tail and mane was called Eara. That meant from the east. But why were they only saddling two when there were three people? She eyed the third horse. Bradon’s.
“What’s going on?” she said hoarsely, glad her voice was coming around. She shook her head. “Just to be clear, I’m not going anywhere and if I were, I’d be riding my own horse.”
“Not this time,” Darach muttered as he swung onto Tosha.
Erin tensed when Tosha’s eyes met hers. Something felt really off about this. Though remarkably calm considering the strange weather kicking up outside, the horse seemed to be trying to say something.
To her.
“What, Sweetheart?” she murmured.
“Ride,” whispered through her mind.
Louder than thunder, a roar echoed around the barn.
“Bloody hell.” When Rònan tried to swing Erin up onto Eara, she shook her head and backed away.
“We need to go, lass,” he growled and strode after her when she darted away.
“I ride alone,” she reminded and headed toward Bradon’s horse.
When Rònan grabbed her around the waist and pinned her arms, she couldn’t reach her blade. So she kicked her heel hard into his shin and thrust her head back. He grunted and his grip loosened. She was about to remove herself entirely when Tosha reared up.
“Och, nay. Release Erin!” Darach yelled at Rònan and swung down from the horse. “Erin, ride Tosha.”
Thunder crashed. Wind-driven snow started to whip up outside.
Rònan released her and nodded at his cousin as Darach headed for Bradon’s horse and Rònan strode back toward Eara. But the men didn’t get far before all hell broke loose. Spooked, Eara reared up and Bradon’s horse started running in circles in the meager space it had. So Darach ended up on Eara and Rònan on the other horse.
Tosha, however, remained calm and Erin wasted no time swinging up into her saddle.
The minute she was on, Tosha bolted.
While alarmed, Erin did her best to remain calm. The horse didn’t need to be any more spooked than it already was. By instinct, she knew Tosha would never respond to the usual commands. No, this one was a free spirit. A lone soul. And Erin well understood that. So she leaned down and murmured, “Easy now, girl. Remember that I’m on your side, okay?”
The weather—regrettably—was not.
What greeted her when they exited the barn was the polar opposite of what it had been when she entered. Angry, violent, black clouds rolled overhead. Autumn leaves whipped in a thick, twisting maelstrom.
Erin knew controlling Tosha would be impossible so she held tight.
Strangely enough, the horse raced toward the tree in front of the house.
Not good.
“Tosha,” she warned. “You’ve gotta stop, Sweetheart.”
Forget that. The horse had a mind of her own. Erin barely had a second to realize Rònan and Darach caught up before leaves whipped so thickly that she was unable to see a thing. Then something happened. Everything changed dramatically. Her ears popped, vision blurred and the temperature chilled.
Yet Tosha barreled forward.
Erin’s vision cleared. Instead of racing toward the oak, they were racing through a forest. Then they broke free of the woods and headed straight for a gushing waterfall.
“Oh my God!” she tried to cry but nothing came out.
Massive, deadly, they were heading for a merciless wall.
Tosha never slowed.
Never stopped.
No, she brought Erin straight toward certain death.
Chapter Two
Scotland
1281
RÒNAN WATCHED ERIN with interest. She sat alone on the far side of the cave with her back to the wall and a brooding expression on her face as she eyed one of the original Highland Defiances. The massive stalagmite rose hundreds of feet to touch the ceiling in an area that was the lower part of the mountain.
They’d been here for several hours now. Though Erin clearly thought they were done for when they arrived, all had made it safely inside when Niall used magic to split the waterfall.
“She doesnae much like company, aye?” he said to Nicole.
“That’s an understatement.” Nicole sighed, her eyes on her friend. “But don’t take offense. She’s always been that way. We’re grateful for the time we get with her.”
“You haven’t spoken much of her.�
�� He meant to look at Nicole but couldn’t seem to pull his eyes from the defiant, lonely lass across the way. “You two were talking for a bit. Why is she so withdrawn in light of everything you just shared with her? I would think she would want to remain close to you in such a foreign place. Especially considering everything she’s learned.”
“Shit, Hon. That’s a loaded question if ever there was one.” Nicole chomped on a bit of meat and shrugged. She was about to say more when Niall plunked down beside them and pulled her onto his lap. The two kissed each other soundly before Nicole shook her head and nodded at Rònan. “He’s sweating Erin.”
“Sweating?” Niall said through kisses down her neck.
“Worried about her.”
“Ah.” Niall gave her one last kiss and eyed Rònan. “She seems well enough, Cousin. If not a bit…”
When he trailed off, Rònan finished his sentence. “Lost.”
“Lost,” Nicole echoed. “Good word for it. But,” she said softly, “she’s the most solid 'lost' person I know.”
“I dinnae ken,” Rònan said, eyes still on the raven haired beauty. Because she was a beauty at the very least. And the last person he expected to find when he traveled to the twenty-first century for the second time in his life.
He had fully expected to encounter Jackie, the beautiful blond he’d seen in his visions when in the Celtic Otherworld. Instead, he found Erin with her long jet black curls, petite, firm body and a face that didn’t possess the angelic qualities of Jackie but something far more…tempting? Striking. Sensual. Black Irish and designed by the dark gods he’d say. Pale, immaculate, with full lips and thickly lashed, unusual colored eyes. Though they must fall in the blue spectrum, they appeared deep violet with starbursts of paler violet at their centers. Eyes that were designed to pin a man where he stood.
Eyes that understood tempered heat.
Cool heat that exploded at its heart but kept quiet.
A soundless explosion. A frigid fire.
“Erin’s her own woman,” Nicole continued. “She has been since we girls came together and I suspect long before that. While I might be the most vocal of us all, she’s the most effective in her own way.”
Oath of a Scottish Warrior Page 2