He had tasted that mouth, recently. He swallowed, choking on the erotic memory. Her eyebrows lifted at the sound. Concern was apparent, by the frown lines marring her forehead. When her skin pinked prettily, he assumed she thought back to how her breasts swelled in his palms. Did she recall the way her nipples had hardened into tiny little peaks just before he had lowered his head to suckle them?
“Babies. Children,” she answered.
“What?” Why was she thinking about babies? “Oh, I see, but I teach college students. Teens.” He said, louder.
Gavin glared at him, then stared at Izzy, who stood beside Bull. His actions stirred Bull to prepare for an attack. When Gavin turned away, and stepped closer to Jenny, his muscles relaxed. Jenny’s mouth was still open, but she was intuitive enough to keep silent. She would demand some answers, but since she must have sensed the high level of testosterone in the area, she was smart.
When Gavin stepped behind her, he wrapped his open hand around her waist, and pulled her into his chest. When he raised his dirk and placed the blade against her neck, she whimpered.
“Let her go!” Izzy cried.
Shocked, it took a second until Bull grabbed Izzy around the waist. She looked like she was going to jump the other couple. “No! He won’t harm her.”
“How can ye be so sure?” Izzy asked him.
“I simply want what ‘tis mine. Give me my Isobel, and I shall free this woman.”
“I doona’ care for yer woman problems, brother,” Niall said. He sighed, then smiled. “Why are ye here, on our border, so close to land filled with those bastards, the Gunns?”
“What?” Izzy pushed free and turned, as if looking for someone, or something. “We are near my clan’s land?”
At her admission, growls and curses among the mounted warriors grew in intensity. These were not happy people, and they obviously had something against the Gunn clan. Bull wished Izzy had kept her origins quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, because he had suffered due to the hatred between clans.
I really am back in Hell.
Somehow, they had slipped back in time. The bigger question was how? “Gavin, wait a minute. We need to figure out how we got here. Then we can give your brother a better explanation. You and Izzy can settle your differences later. Leave Jenny out of this.”
“I think I have the right to know why you’re threatening me, Mr. Sinclair. What did I ever do to you?” Jenny said, turning her head to glare at him.
Gavin searched Jenny’s face, then lowered his weapon. Jenny, to her benefit, stayed next to him. She smiled at Izzy and Bull, but she didn’t move.
“This loud bully is Niall. A devil with a longbow, a favorite of the lasses, and eldest son of the Sinclair laird. This handful,” Gavin said as he nodded at the woman he had threatened moments before, “ ‘tis Jenny Morgan of…Lincoln. The man hiding my betrothed from ye, is called Bull, though I hear tell his real name be Bryce Buchanan.”
“A Buchanan? We have no quarrel with yer people,” Niall said, turning his gaze back to Bull.
Bull nodded, but stood his ground.
“ ‘Tis the Gunns who have done the damage, this day. Come. We shall return to our camp and discuss all.”
When he walked closer, Bull whispered to Gavin, “Did that creature we saw briefly in Jake’s barn send us here?”
Gavin shrugged his shoulders. “I doona’ see how. I have ne’er heard of brownies having such powers, but some type of magic sent us here.”
The younger Sinclair followed the Highlanders. Jenny trailed after him, while Bull clasped Izzy’s hand. Her damp palm, and cool skin, proved she was hiding her fear fairly well. This was the woman who slammed into his chest one minute, then tried to save her friend’s belongings the next, while a tent burned around her. She was the woman who kissed him senseless, and got him to remove his shirt. He hadn’t let anyone see his burns, until her. She was interesting, and he desired her. She was warm, and a beauty, but her courage during disaster drew him to her.
My woman is a Highlander.
Chuckling softly at the revelation, especially since he never considered any woman his before, he squeezed her hand. If lucky, they’d find the time to explore their relationship.
Life is too short.
They walked silently in their fellow travelers’ wake. The mounted men followed a narrow trail through the forest. The smell of decay and moss-covered trees was ripe with the knowledge that he was far from the mountains of his New England home. He didn’t like the idea that someone had sent him back to ancient Scotland against his will. Again.
CHAPTER 9
Gavin shivered beneath the sun-starved canopy of the forest. He had given Isobel’s friend, Jenny his cloak without hesitation, even though his discomfort had increased. He never thought to offer the warm wrap to his betrothed.
Jenny, and his sudden attraction to her, was an oddity. She had garnered his attention away from his mission, the moment she screamed. She should be nothing to him, simply a woman of the modern world to whom Isobel had run, but there was something about her.
She intrigued him.
“Are ye well, lass?”
Jenny laughed, but the gaiety did not reach her lovely brown eyes, until he smiled at her. Then they sparkled, drawing him closer. The odor of his sweat mingled with her fragrance, sweet and flowery, as if she had bathed in a pool filled with lavender.
“I’m fine. Thanks for the use of your coat.” He gazed at the flesh curving down toward the slight swelling above her breasts. She pulled it tighter, covering the small patch of naked skin, beneath her delicate chin.
“We call it a cloak. Yer comfort pleases me.”
“How sweet.” When she crinkled her small nose, then touched her forehead with her fingers, she winced.
His fingers ached to touch her mottled skin, and brush stray locks of hair behind her ear. To get a better look, he stepped so close that her breath fluttered across his chest. Fisting his hands and drawing them behind him, he focused on her injury.
“I guess I bumped my head. It hurts like the dickens.”
Gavin smiled at her odd language, but his mirth turned to concern, when a tear trickled down her cheek. “Are ye feeling worse, lass?”
“I’m okay, and it’s just a little headache. Considering all that’s happened, I’ll pop an aspirin. Or, not.”
“Aspirin? I doona’ know that medicinal potion.”
She chuckled. “Am I bleeding?”
“Nay,” he muttered, “ ‘Tis a small lump, and the skin is discolored.”
He then turned away.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something stupid? It’s just that, this is so weird.”
“Weird?” Glancing back over his shoulder, he stayed his urge to catch the second teardrop with his tongue. His groin tightened at the thought.
“Strange. Unusual, Creepy. Not you, of course, even though you did hold a knife to my throat…” her voice tapered to nothingness.
Gavin stared at her injury, and had a deep urge to gather her in his arms, and soothe her pain. How he would accomplish it, was a mystery.
Stepping back, he glanced toward Isobel. Their relationship needed healing, but Bull’s comments hit home. Had the imp, what he now believed was a Scottish brownie, sent them back to 1603?
Did such a creature have the magical power to travel through time? It had taken Gavin years to come up with the precise potion and magical spell, that had enabled him to traverse the folds of time. He had found Isobel at a gathering called the New England Highland Games. Leave it to Isobel to find a new home surrounded by people who dressed up as ancient Scots. To discover that he was worried about the safety of Isobel’s friend, was a mystery.
“We must keep up with the others.” He continued their stroll through the forest, and made sure she followed close behind.
“I am sorry ye have an injury. ‘Tis a tragedy it mars the skin of such a beautiful woman.” Her hair was shorter than Isobel’s long blonde curls. It was h
ard to resist tunneling his fingers through Jenny’s brown hair.
“Beautiful? What are you, blind?” Jenny shook her head, and lowered her eyes.
“Yer hair shimmers with streaks of gold. ‘Tis quite becoming.” Tall and lean, she reminded him of a Fae princess. While he had fallen quickly for Isobel’s petite femininity and lush curves, Gavin’s body tightened in Jenny’s presence.
Weird. Aye, the word fits.
“I thought you came to the apartment to see Izzy. Isn’t she your…girlfriend? It seems odd that she has never mentioned you, or any man. Bull is the closest thing I have seen her…sorry.”
Gavin’s shoulders rose and fell with each breath as the pain surfaced fast and pointed. How could Isobel run from him?
“Aye, I noticed him when he came to her aid at her tent, and then when he came out of her domicile half-dressed.” His hands curved into fists, and one strayed to the hilt of his dirk.
To get the conversation away from two people he loathed, he glanced around as the trail opened into a glade. The thunder of a nearby waterfall echoed in the distance, and sunshine filled the area with warmth.
“Wow. This is beautiful. I feel better already,” Jenny said.
“I will find ye a place to sit.” Gavin pointed toward several downed logs near a campfire. Hobbled horses nosed through bushes to the far side of the glade, and the open canopy allowed a few shafts of sunlight to warm piles of bedrolls.
“I’m thirsty. Is there any place to get a drink around here?”
Niall dismounted, and pointed toward a trail on the far side of the glade.
“Follow me, lass.” Gavin nodded his thanks to his brother, then led the way. Jenny followed in silence. Many minutes passed until he pushed aside a low branch. The trail opened at a wide stream. The roar of what he assumed was the waterfall, hidden around a bend in the river, was the only sound.
Gavin kneeled on the bank and threw water on his face, then cupped his hands and drank. Beside him, Jenny opened the long cloak, pulled the dress above her knees, and slowly settled beside him.
“Is it safe to drink?”
Her query startled him. His attention had locked on the creamy flesh of her calves and ankles before his wrap hid them from his sight. She wore short boot-like footgear, but no leggings. He saw no evidence of a chemise or other undergarments beneath her dress. The fabric was lighter then wool or homespun linen, which is why she had shivered.
“ ‘Tis cold, and better than any you have tasted, lass.” Gavin recalled the tasteless water he had swallowed from an unusual bottle a stranger had handed him at the New England Highland Games. The transparent container was soft and squeezable. The drink was adequate.
One canna’ purchase a tankard of ale when one lacks local currency.
Jenny leaned forward, cupped her hand, and brought the water to her mouth. Half of it dripped down her chin to disappear beneath his cloak. Her short hair drifted forward, toward the streambed, revealing her long, white neck.
Gavin swallowed. The lump in his throat was as hard as his erection. Jumping up, he offered Jenny a hand. She accepted it, and he drew her to her feet.
“We should return to the camp. Niall will explain what has occurred since I left home.”
“So, you used to live here?”
“Near here. My father’s castle is no’ far.”
“A castle? I guess I’m not in Kansas anymore.” Jenny sighed, and tugged the heavy leather tightly to her.
“Kansas? I am no’ familiar with such a land, but Niall will give us some answers. If his men are roaming our borders armed and ready for battle, something is amiss.” Without waiting to see if she followed, he marched back using the narrow deer trail. The voices of the men carried, but they did not speak in anger. When he entered the glade where Niall had set up camp, his gaze fell on Isobel.
Running shaky fingers through his hair, he turned his attention from Isobel to her new friend, Bull. They stood close together, talking with Niall. His brother was as tall as Bull, but leaner. A shaft of sunlight broke through the trees and lit upon his halo of gold hair, and when Isobel stepped closer to his brother, sunlight turned her own blonde locks to molten gold.
“She’s very beautiful,” Jenny whispered.
How had the woman crept so close? “Aye, my betrothed is perfect in many ways.”
“You’re really engaged? How come Izzy never told me about you?” Jenny grabbed his shoulder and attempted to turn him toward her. She was so delicate, but he stood frozen to the spot. As the warmth of her touch seeped through his shirt, the blood in his veins slowly heated, and his body tightened with desire.
Gavin shook his head. He had traveled to the future to force Isobel to bend to his demands. He had certainly not ventured to the future to lust after her friend, Jenny. He had spent years learning his craft, and running down leads, until he finally found Isobel.
He chuckled at the mess he had made of things.
“I sought her out initially for her land. With her parents dead, and no brothers to lay claim to the vast farmland, meadows, and livestock, she was the solution to my problem. All wrapped up in one sensuous package.”
“What? You wanted to marry her for her land? Isn’t that a tad medieval?”
The anger in her voice made him glance at her face. Jenny looked outraged. Her breathing grew rapid, and her eyebrows folded inward. Her thinned lips and straightened shoulders were quite off-putting.
“Ye are a good friend to Isobel, but please allow me to finish?”
“Okay.”
“That she refused me at every turn, after first accepting my proposal of marriage is a problem.”
“You asked her to marry you and she said yes? Then, why has she been living alone for five years?
Gavin glanced away from his brother and his companions, and gazed into Jenny’s eyes. Were those tears on her cheeks?
“My relationship with Isobel is…strained. She discovered I had courted her for a reason other than love.”
“You don’t love her?” Jenny’s eyelids closed to near slits, as she stepped so close her fragrance, a mixture of milled lavender soap and fresh grass, consumed him. He recalled finding her, barely conscious, in the meadow. Her dress had ridden up to her thighs, and he had hardened like a green lad.
Was that relief in her voice? Gazing closely, he cringed. The bruise on her temple had spread. Isobel sported similar bluish coloring, but when Jenny screamed, he lost the chance to ask her what had happened. His attack on Bull, and the noise in the barn, had interfered.
Isobel had run into the structure with no concern for her own safety. At least, she had somehow transported home with him. The two strangers found themselves in quite a bit of trouble, and Jenny’s future was a concern.
“A beautiful woman is a commodity in my world, but she has land, I have none. Love has nothing to do with marriage.”
Jenny snorted, punching his shoulder. “Can’t you just buy some land? Why do you need her? I don’t think she likes you.”
“She shall come to love me, again.”
“Again? Love doesn’t work that way.” Jenny turned on her heels, and sauntered off to join her friends, and Niall. When Niall’s eyes widened at her approach, then smiled down at her, when she stood too close, Gavin’s fingers curled into fists.
Strange.
Why should his brother’s interest in a woman Gavin knew nothing about, bother him? He joined them, crossing his arms over his chest. The sun beating down on his shoulders was nice, but the part of the conversation he interrupted, made him go very still.
“Aye, the Gunns have run raids as far into Sinclair lands, as Dunleath. Our seer expects a long, cold winter. Every Highland steer is valued for the survival of our clan. We aim to stop them.”
“Izzy had nothing to do with this,” Bull said.
Gavin spoke up. “I agree. She left some years prior. I found her, only recently, far from here.”
“Which brings me back to the following question.
How did you get to that meadow?”
“A good question, Niall. Seems magic and mayhem have found us all,” Isobel said, her words low, and for only the ears of the little group, Niall included. As the warriors’ leader, he had the right to know things were not as they seemed.
“Witchery? ‘Tis bad enough both the Gunns of Keldurunach and the Keiths of Wick have witches living among them. Now you say it has aided your travels?”
“Aided is not the word I would use. We were sent here against our will.” Bull glared at Niall, then at Gavin.
“The man speaks the truth, brother. An imp, or brownie attacked, and nearly burned down a barn around us. It caused us to lose consciousness with an odd-smelling smoke and ear-splitting sound. We woke up there.” Gavin pointed down the trail that led to the meadow in the distance.
“Ye be unharmed?” Niall asked, taking Jenny’s hand. He frowned, having spotted the bruise.
Jenny smiled, and her face lit up. The shards of sunlight glowed across her milky cheeks. Gavin’s breeches tightened, and he repositioned his stance.
For a man betrothed to a woman, whose property would set him up for life, he dare not lust after a virtual stranger.
“We all survived the attack. What we do next is problematic. The creature sent us here for a reason. Once we realize why, we can go back to our lives.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Bull added.
“A man after my own heart!” Niall slapped Bull on the shoulder, then headed toward their ale master.
Gavin smirked. The warriors only traveled with the ale master and his wagon when their return was unknown. No good Scot could live long without a tankard of heather ale distilled in huge barrels. Whisky was too potent, and not the best drink for warriors bent on battle. Nor had they brought camp followers. They must plan on traveling far and light, if they had left all the women at home.
While Niall spoke with their ale master, other warriors sharpened their swords. Two others wrestled, and three took turns shooting arrows, from their longbows, at a large dead tree trunk.
“What is everyone doing?” Bull asked, “they seemed bent on killing anyone in their path a few minutes earlier.”
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