Returning to ancient Scotland, her homeland, where she was without a protector, she would have little choice in the matter.
“I thank ye for yer concern, but I can breathe well enough. Why did ye make him think we were…um--?”
“Lovers?”
Izzy nodded, even as her cheeks burned beneath his direct gaze. Why did he make her squirm with nervous energy, as if her skin did not fit her bones? Why did she not turn and run from Bull?
“I sensed your need to make him leave. Looks like it worked.”
She had run from Gavin. The man she had known since childhood, had made her run for her life, by shifting through time with the help of Dorcas Swann, and her magical pendant.
“I will help you load up this stuff. Do you have a vehicle?”
Izzy jogged her thoughts back to the job at hand. “Aye. I borrowed Jenny’s motorized carriage. She calls it a pickup?”
He laughed, and the lusty sound filled the tent with joy and exuberance. Such a happy man while surrounded by chaos. Why would he help her?
“What do ye expect in return?”
The smile he flashed was wide and sensual, and sent nervous tingles down her spine. Without thinking, she stepped closer and ran her hands up his chest. When her fingers met his mouth, his larger hand clasped them to his lips, peppering each fingertip with gentle kisses. He brought her hands around his neck, while his circled her waist and lifted her.
With her toes dangling in the air, weightless, euphoria consumed her. He sat her on a recently cleared display table. Since she was of a small stature, and now sat nearly eye-to-eye with the man, he was a tad less frightening than when leaning over her. When she gazed into his sparkling eyes, surprise turned to desire, and she tangled her fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck. Beads of sweat, along the round edge of his collar, dampened her palms.
Izzy had planned to clean up the mess, then soak her weary bones in a hot bath of tingly swirling bubbles, but the present situation was enjoyable. She could move, or protest, but she surprised herself when she sat still and quiet. What was in his head? Intrigued with how this handsome man lied to Gavin for her, and made her feel safe in her enemy’s presence, she waited to see what he would do next.
Bull pressed his mouth against her lips, and answered her question in a heartbeat. A flash of unfamiliar passion so shocked her system, that her eyes remained open. His gaze enflamed her, with unbridled control evident, in his darkened pupils.
Control?
Had not she vowed never to succumb to a man’s management of her or her possessions again? Was she replacing one manipulator for another? As if reading her darkest, deepest thoughts, his long, black lashes fluttered down. Watching the creases in his brow soften, she let her body feel. Her eyes closed, but not before pleasure had pierced her soul. When his mouth left hers, releasing her so fast she threw out both hands to steady herself atop the table, she whimpered.
When Bull smiled at the sound, she crossed her arms over her chest, and met his gaze. His scent had momentarily pushed aside the odor of burnt herbs. The taste of his mouth and the sweet press of his soft lips were memories she would treasure, since his present attempt at seduction would not happen again.
He stepped back, as if reading the mask of indifference that settled on her face. She slipped off the table, and landed on the grassy floor of the tent. Crossing her arms over her chest, she inhaled a deep breath, forcing her body to ignore his potent masculine scent.
“Should ye no’ be turning the caber? I assume ye be one of the performers.”
“Performer? Oh, you mean athlete. Different times and different terms,” he said with a wink. “I already performed for the crowd, along with some amateurs who worked the field today. Tomorrow afternoon is the Masters Tournament. Come and cheer for me?”
While she thought of tomorrow’s schedule, she bit her lower lip, bringing his eyes to her mouth. Taking her leave of the great brute of a man standing like a statue, she headed toward her damaged wares.
“I have much to do. The quicker I remove this mess, the better I shall see about tomorrow.”
“Yep. It’s best to live for today and let tomorrow worry about itself.”
“ ‘Tis how I live my life.”
“That’s quite a progressive point of view for a woman of your time.”
“What do ye know about me? Ye mentioned yer visit to Castle Ruadh.”
“It’s amazing what a fellow can hear, when people don’t think he’s listening.” He winked again, picking up an empty box.
What could he know? He was a stranger to Gavin, so he had not traveled through Keldurunach, or the nearby lands of Gavin’s father, the Laird of the Sinclair Clan. How could he know anything about the castle unless he had visited it. She had a poster in her apartment that showed the location of Scottish castles. Castle Ruadh’s location was marked by an unnamed pile of rubble. An idea rose, since he had mentioned Dorcas and the Keith keep near Wick.
“I see Dorcas has shared my story with ye. How much did she tell ye?”
“Not nearly enough,” he said. His gaze centered on the tent flap, where they had last seen Gavin.
“Gavin is nothing to me. I have already put him from my mind.”
Bull’s eyes were too dark to read where he stood, near the rear of the enclosed tent, but she sensed them bore into hers. Her hands trembled as she slid them over bottles of potions, in search of broken ones.
“I doubt we’ve seen the last of him. He might have set the fire.”
“Nay. He wants me. He would never allow me to suffer death. His reasons for being here are…personal.”
“I believe I have a personal stake in hoping he stays away. Want to hear it?” He set the empty box on the table beside her. The white leather footwear he wore were starkly different from the black boots Gavin wore. Black trews encased Gavin’s long legs, but Bull’s plaid showed off his strong muscular calves.
When he had threatened Bull with his dirk, her breath had stuck in her throat. Bull intrigued her, but she wanted no more attention from men, especially not someone whose rugged body, and bulging muscles reminded her of a few rowdy, egotistical Scottish Highlanders.
After Dorcas had approached her, her decision to leave her homeland was easy. Ever since Izzy’s parents had died of fever, her home was no longer safe. Land equals power, and her parent’s farm came under Gavin’s notice. The news of Kirkwall Gunn’s wife and her special abilities, sped across their clan like a whisper on the wind. Dorcas, a powerful witch, shared the truth that Lady Haven was from the future.
This future.
Dorcas traveled between time with her powerful amber amulet, to live among the visitors at the New England Highland Games, sell her wares, and keep an eye on this world. When she offered to take Izzy with her, the chance to leave everything behind was too exhilarating to ignore. Izzy ran toward this new life, a life away from loneliness, and heartache.
A world far away from Gavin Sinclair.
Although safe in her new surroundings, she found she missed the aged green peaks of her homeland. Back home, the sky in Scotland was so blue, she had spent hours on her back in the sweet meadow grass, staring toward the heavens. The North Sea in winter was a magnificent terror to behold. The crashing breakers, the froth of angry waves, and the vast midnight blue expanse, was too similar to the eyes of the man staring back at her.
“I fear ye think as all men do. Ye want something simply because another man has staked a claim, aye?”
“Sorry, but that’s not it. You are a pretty little thing, and I figure you and I can have some fun. That’s all.” Bull turned away and grabbed more boxes. “However, you’re not the only fish in the sea.”
Izzy stared at the red fabric stretching across his broad back, while the odd words tumbled through her head. The man spoke nonsense. Gavin had followed her to the future, and getting him to return to the past without her was tomorrow’s challenge. If he thought Bull was her current lover, so be it. The ru
se could work as a stopgap, as long as Bull realized it was only a performance. His statement made her suspect he wanted more than to act like her protector, and keep her safe from another man’s unwanted advances.
Izzy wiped beads of sweat from her brow and got to work. She boxed up the damaged bottles and scorched wooden spurtles. The bottles were a big problem since many of the labels, written in Dorcas Swann’s script, were no longer legible. She might be able to save the spurtles by soaking them. They were crafted by local artisans whom she had met through Jenny, and were popular sellers.
After stacking the boxes by the door, she stopped. The strongbox! “Where is it?”
“Lost something, sweetheart?”
CHAPTER 5
When Bull’s musky scent wafted over her shoulders, Izzy stiffened. How did he get so close?
‘Tis neither here, nor there. Stay focused.
She could not accuse him of stealing her valuables. When she had run for help, had she not left the tent open and unprotected? Anyone could have grabbed it and stolen it away. Turning to face him, she raised her eyes to his handsome face.
“I left a box near the entrance. After the fire grew, I tripped over it, and--”
“Fell into my arms. Yes, I remember. Where is this box?” He bent and shoved aside tables, but it was gone.
Cringing at the loss, she returned to the curtained sleeping chamber and pulled out cleaning rags. The interior wall at the back of the tent was more smoke-damaged, than scorched. Bull disappeared, returning with a bucket of water. With repeated strokes, she washed the soot away.
“Smells better already,” Bull said, then headed outside to dump the dirty water. He returned quickly, and seemed eager for another task. Rinsing her hands, she dried them on her jeans, and headed outside.
“I shall arrive early tomorrow to air the place out.” She clipped the closed sign to the front flap.
She reached up on the tips of her wet footwear to snap the tent clasps together. Even as she did her best to complete the task, Bull bumped her out of the way. When his outstretched arms reached above her head, heat rolled off him.
Izzy rolled her eyes.
“Like this?” he asked.
“Aye. ‘Tis nice to have a tall man around, at times.” The way his eyes widened, he acted like one of her father’s hunting dogs when he threw it a bone. Bull did not bark, he smiled.
“Anytime you need me, just whistle,” he whispered, then leaned down and brushed his lips against her mouth.
Her knees weakened.
When he pulled away, she dipped her head, to hide the flush she sensed washing over her cheeks and neck. The man was as tall as a Highland steer, wide as the side of a barn, and smelled as good as a forest glen.
“Stars above!”
He chuckled.
“I shall collect the vehicle. Will ye meet me by the roadway?” Izzy asked, then pointed down the lane. She was lucky he had not caught her staring. With her back to him, her muscles relaxed. When she bent and gathered a small box in her arms, he whistled a second time.
Praying the fragile bottles of potent potions did not break, as she nearly dropped her burden, she twirled to see his smiling face.
“What?”
“You paint a pretty picture, bending over like that. Gives a guy ideas.” His left eyebrow shot up.
Was he hinting that he meant to stay, now that Gavin had vanished? “I shall appreciate yer help in loading my vehicle, then I shall release ye from any obligation ye might feel toward me.”
She turned and headed toward the corral holding the vendors’ transports.
“No problem. May I ask a favor?”
His change of subject startled her, and she caught a toe in a crack in the hard ground. Two large hands grabbed her around the waist, before she could drop the box of glass bottles.
“A favor?”
“I don’t have wheels,” Bull said, releasing her. He bent over and unwrapped the linen around his knee.
Izzy glanced at his athletic shoes. He laughed, and inched closer. Taking the box from her hands, he explained. “I drove to the games with Jake Jamison. Since he is no longer…here…I find I’m stranded.”
“Stranded?”
“I need a ride to his apartment. If you can’t help me, I understand. I’ve been in worse predicaments.” He smiled, but his expression turned wistful.
Where was Jake? Jake Jamison was her neighbor. Jake, Jenny, and she lived in a large old farmhouse that was broken up into several domiciles. Jake owned horses that he stabled in the small barn behind their shared property.
“I noticed he has no’ been around. Jenny is looking after his horse. I think he went on a trip. Do ye know where he has gone?”
When Bull glanced away and did not answer, she bit her tongue. If he did not care to share information, so be it. His stance was off-putting, his feet widely spaced, and planted, like a warrior. His speech pattern, and use of odd endearments, was of a man of this time, but he wore the plaid with the pride of a Highlander.
She sighed. Bull’s downcast eyes and frown were too sad to ignore. “I can drop ye where ye need to go.”
“Thanks. Take me to Jake’s apartment. I made him a promise…”
“So, ye have seen him. Jake lives next to me and Jenny, and he disappeared.”
“Jenny Morgan? That adorable brown-eyed creature, with blonde highlights in her hair?”
Izzy’s mouth opened with an urge to spout a nasty reply, but it was neither the time, nor the place, to show a streak of jealousy toward a man she did not care to know any better.
Time? What a simple word, so full of meaning.
She had traveled through time to make her way in this strange new world, and she wanted to succeed. Gavin, a man from her past, and this new man, were possible roadblocks. Dorcas had given her instructions, and following those orders were first and foremost.
“Protect the wares, and make money,” she had said, before puffing on her pipe and disappearing into the crowd. If Izzy spent the rest of her evening sorting damages bottles and spurtles, from goods that she could repair and resell, Dorcas would be proud.
After she relaxed in the hot tub.
“Yes, Jenny is adorable. Ye help carry these boxes, and I will give ye transport to Jake’s.”
He glanced at her, smiling, then bent and picked up more boxes. She hurried to the vendor parking area, hopped inside the truck, and drove slowly through the lane. Many visitors made their way toward the exit and waiting buses.
She parked closest to the narrow lane near her tent, and Bull strode toward her. At least she hoped it was Bull hiding behind four large boxes, with muscular legs, wearing an orange and yellow plaid. The towering pile ambled toward her. He lowered the boxes, and his scrap of linen into the truck bed, then returned for the rest of her damaged wares.
Izzy rolled down the windows with the touch of a button. How convenient! She had driven the truck once or twice, under Jenny’s tutelage, but she did not own what Jenny called a license, the paper required by the police. She hated having to lie to her friend, but she certainly could not own such a vehicle.
No’ until I save my earnings, and acquire identity papers.
Dorcas was a fair taskmaster, but she had tied wages to the profits. Today’s profits were less than stellar, due to the fire and missing strongbox.
The fire was still a mystery, and concern for its cause would keep her up all night. When Bull appeared at the driver’s door, she jumped. Bull was the other reason she might lose sleep tonight.
“Let me drive, Isobel.”
It was not a question.
She acquiesced, settling into the passenger seat. “My name is Izzy.”
“Right.”
Driving at dusk was hard. When the sun lowered in the west, the tall pines and distant mountains sent long shadows across the road. Driving home, surrounded by the eerie twilight, while sun still shone on the Highland games, was another thing to get used to, in this new world.
Bull was another.
Gavin, not so much. He did not scare her, but he had undercut her emotional wellbeing, when she thought he had feelings for her. His betrayal, and her parents’ sudden deaths, were reasons she had agreed to follow Dorcas’ suggestion. Izzy could almost hear the old witch’s throaty response.
“Start a new life, lass, and all will be revealed,” Dorcas had told her.
A powerful woman like Dorcas Swann, who knew many things, would never steer her into danger. She glanced at Bull, who had driven slowly off the grounds. They traveled the back road out of the ski area, until they reached the highway.
The narrow, silvery gleam of a river flowed beside, and below, the edge of the black surface Jenny called pavement. The slow-moving current washed over large boulders that had tumbled into its path. Thick forests lined her side of the road. Back in her own time, shadows held danger. Wolves, ruffians, and warring clan members could attack without warning.
Mental images that reminded Izzy of scarier times, made her shiver. It was time to get her head back to the present, but Bull’s musky scent filled the truck cab. When her stomach growled, small talk was easy.
“I’m hungry.”
“You?” Bull asked. “You’re so small, I figured you rarely ate.”
“I would put anything in my mouth, right now.”
The truck swerved.
“I was talking about food. Where is your head?” He wiggled an eyebrow in her direction.
“I doona’ understand yer meaning, as food is what I be talking about. Since we are headed to the same place, I shall order a pizza.” She pulled her telephone from her pocket.
“I’m surprised you own a cell phone.”
Izzy ignored the implication. As she searched her contact list for the neighborhood pizza cookery, a fast-moving shadow caught her attention.
“Beware!”
***
“What the…?” Bull wrenched the wheel to the left, away from the rapidly approaching blur, but they hit the creature with an ominous thump. Whatever had run from the trees toward the river, had made the mistake of crossing in front of the pickup.
My Lady Highlande Page 5