Highland Charm: First Fantasies

by April Holthaus

  Think logically. The woman didn’t just vanish. She must have gone somewhere.

  A deep breath eased Laurie’s panic. The bright afternoon light must have caused a moment of blindness as Caitrina walked away through the thick shrubbery.

  Silly to overreact. Laurie shook her head. She really was dangling from a thin thread.

  Well, that’s why she was here, wasn’t it?

  She needed this vacation. Deserved it.

  Curiosity piqued, she rose from the chair, flipped shut the cover of the e-reader and tucked it under her arm then headed for the woodland trail the woman indicated. As she made her way into the woods, a soft giggle from behind made her shiver.

  Laurie looked back along the path. Nothing but sun-drenched woodland. Great. Now she was hearing things. With a shrug, she continued in the direction of the special garden.

  “Beware. ’Tis magic in the wood.”

  She swung around. “Who’s there?”

  Nobody replied. No one lingered nearby. Feeling ridiculous, she shook off the uneasy sensation. She wasn’t hearing voices. The wind and her anxieties made her imagine things. That’s all.

  She must be more stressed than she thought from all the tiresome business trips over the last several years. From the brutal brow beating during contract negotiations. From the constant client catering after deals closed. From the lack of a social life.

  If only she’d handled things differently. Too late for that. Laurie sighed. She hated rehashing a past she couldn’t change. Would be better to look to the future.

  Well, she had a month reserved at the inn. A month should be plenty of time to get over the stress that triggered her professional meltdown. She continued into the woods, hoping to find the special garden.

  The meandering trail led past clusters of evergreens and small groves of broad-leaved rhododendrons. She stopped a couple of times to marvel over early spring wildflowers poking up through the carpet of last year’s fallen leaves. This place was peaceful, the quiet broken every so often by the melodic call of a bird, so different from the rat race that was her life.

  She skirted a couple of large boulders and disturbed a squirrel. The little critter scolded before scampering away. A chuckle bubbled up Laurie’s throat. The forest pulsed with magic, a healing kind of magic. Magic she needed.

  The trail entered a large meadow; an old stone cottage came into view. She gasped in surprise. Goosebumps prickled and a chill teased her spine.

  The cottage called to her. Called to a romantic need within her soul.

  Stomach tight, she hurried through the calf-high amber grass and into the yard. The quaint little house had leaded windows and a heavy oak door carved with a Celtic design. She tiptoed to one of the side windows and peered in. The room was empty. The cottage appeared deserted.

  Creeping to the front door, she knocked. When no one answered, she glanced around to see if anyone watched then twisted the knob. “Darn, it’s locked.”

  She made her way through overgrown shrubbery at the left of the house to a high stone wall. Compelled to learn what was on the other side, she tried the rusted iron gate. It wouldn’t budge. She pushed harder, until the metal grille creaked open. Easing it farther, she walked through. Yay! A neglected garden was enclosed within the wall. Another gate at the rear led to more woods.

  Sunlight shimmered outside the gate, tempting her to discover more of what lay beyond. A shadow suddenly darkened the area, giving her a chill. She rubbed her arms and studied the sky. When had clouds blown in?

  Warmth returned with the sun, and Laurie dropped onto a concrete garden bench. This must be the garden Caitrina meant. What a mess. Weeds and brambles choked the garden, although a few bulbs bloomed, and scattered about were early season herbs. Laurie recognized chives and caught the tangy scent of lemon balm when she teased aromatic leaves with sensitive fingertips. She leaned down to scoop a handful of rich soil. Possibilities ran through her mind. As the dirt slipped through her fingers, an idea blossomed.

  She’d always wanted to live in a cottage with a lush garden. When young and foolish, she’d imagined such a place, and a special man sharing her life. Laurie snorted. Like that would ever happen. She gave up on the dream years ago and concentrated on her career…or had she?

  Maybe she’d remained a romantic after all.

  She would find out who owned this place and make it her own. Heck with staying a month. She’d stay longer. Maybe start a small business.

  Caitrina was right—the garden was special.

  Laurie’s head swirled with ideas on the way back to the inn. The Victorian painted-lady with the Blue Ridge Mountains as a backdrop belonged to a bygone era. She stopped, awe inspired by the vermillion sunset. With a smile, she rushed to her suite, quickly freshened up and hurried downstairs to the dining room. The lamps were dim, but the room glowed with candlelight. Windows filled the far wall and nearby a fire burned in the hearth. Still early in the tourist season, there were few diners.

  Mairi, the fortyish woman who’d checked her in earlier, stood at the hostess station arranging yellow daffodils in a ceramic vase. The silky strands of her strawberry blond hair hung loose around her shoulders with casual elegance and laugh lines edged her silver eyes when she looked up and smiled.

  “Great to see you this eve’n,” she said with a Scottish burr. “Would you like to be seated?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Mairi waved over a fellow from the bar area. “This is my husband, Iain.”

  So this is Himself. Amusing attire. He wore traditional Highland regalia like her cousin Finn often did—belted plaid kilt, shirt and vest, leather sporran—complete with a sgian dubh, a small knife, inserted in his knee-high hose. A good ten years older than Mairi, he stood tall and broad, his chestnut hair spiced with a hint of gray, worn long and secured at the back with a leather strap.

  He grinned at the inspection and his deep blue eyes glimmered with mischief.

  For an older man, he certainly was handsome.

  “We’ve been waiting for you to arrive for a long time,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” It had only been two days since she made the reservation, not that long ago.

  Mairi cleared her throat and exchanged a stern glance with her husband. “He’s teasing. Iain, I’m sure Miss Bernard wishes to go to her table.”

  He guided her into the dining room, his back stiff. He and his wife were a curiosity.

  “I like your Scottish getup.” Laurie hoped to ease the awkward moment. “Mairi told me you moved to Anderson Creek from Scotland and opened the inn three years ago.”

  “Aye, ’tis a fact. This place reminds us of our homeland with its rowan trees and thistles and frequent mists. Mairi gets melancholy at times, missing the old place and the children, but I like the modern conveniences.”

  “You must also miss your children.”

  “They have destinies to fulfill.” His features closed, end of subject. Then he smiled. “Have you visited Scotland?”

  “A couple of times on business.”

  “Did you enjoy our culture?” He leaned closer, seeming eager to learn the answer.

  “Yes, the people and the countryside are pleasant.” She had found the Scottish people and their country lovely, at least the few she’d met and the little bit she’d seen between business meetings.

  “Glad to hear it. Here we are.” He sat her near the hearth and handed over a menu. “May I bring you something from the bar? Whisky perhaps?” He jigged his eyebrows, grinning.

  She chuckled at his antics. “A glass of merlot, please.”

  “As you wish.” He inclined his head and hurried to the bar.

  A couple engrossed in quiet conversation sat at a nearby table. Across the room, another pair gazed into each other’s eyes. Romantic.

  Alone again, Laurie frowned and tried to forget how long she’d been alone.

  When Iain returned, he set the wine on the table. “I understand you went walking on the grounds tod
ay. Did you enjoy our gardens?”

  “They’re beautiful,” she said. “While I was out, I came across a stone cottage. Do you know who owns the place?”

  “Aye, ’tis ours. We recently finished renovating it.”

  “Really?”

  “Inside. The outside and grounds require a wee bit more sprucing up.” His eyes twinkled. “Why do you ask?”

  Playing with the napkin in her lap, she gave him a tentative smile. “Is it for rent?”

  “Aye, lass, ’tis. Might you be interested?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t help but grin.

  Iain glanced away when a college-aged girl approached. “Ah, here is your waitress. Let our Emily take your order. You can discuss the cottage with Mairi in the morning if you want.”

  He returned to the hostess station and said something to his wife. Mairi’s gaze swiveled to the table and she pinned Laurie with a curious stare.

  * * *

  Four weeks later, after Laurie returned from settling her affairs in New York, she lay on her stomach across the enormous bed. The room seemed hazy. Had she drank too much wine? She stretched like a contented feline, the furs she lay on sensuous against bare skin.

  She sensed his presence, then the mattress sank, and he moved over her, trapping her within strong arms and the pressure of a hard body. She trembled with a bit of fear. Would she disappoint?

  “Be still, sweetling. Let me pleasure you.” His husky whisper curled around her heart, dispelling her silly fears.

  This was a dream lover. With him, she could explore every fantasy. Her body thrummed with excitement as he rose slightly and feathered kisses along the nape of her neck, taking tiny nips. His lips slid ever so slowly down the arch of her back. Chills followed in the wake of his touch. Laurie shivered when his lips hit that sensitive spot at the base of her spine—the spot only he had kissed. His teeth grazed a hip, and then he explored farther. She tried to roll over, wanting to see her lover’s face, kiss his lips. Gentle caresses kept her facedown and trembling with anticipation.

  When she moaned, he eased open her legs and tenderly kissed the inside of one thigh. He held her firmly to the bed, nibbling sensitive skin. He was everything she wanted in a lover.

  Once again, his body slid over hers. His erection rubbed against the cleft of her behind. He raised her hips, and with a quick thrust, entered her core. She clutched the sheets and cried out in pleasure. His movements were slow and teasing.

  “More. Please,” she begged.

  “Aye, my love.” He quickened the pace.

  The pressure built. The fire burned. She soared among the stars.

  Laurie woke, breathing in an exotic perfume clinging to the air. She curled into herself, trying to ease the slow burn at her core. Holy shit! Her first erotic dream. She muffled a groan of frustration into the pillow before flipping onto her back. She replayed the dream in her mind, wanting to hold onto the addictive heat. She tried to imagine what her lover looked like. She knew he bulged with muscle and made love with tenderness.

  A floorboard outside her room creaked. She stiffened as footsteps moved down the hall. Had someone been at the door listening?

  Embarrassment burned her cheeks.

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed, rose to her feet and padded to the door. She opened it slowly and peeked out. The passageway was empty.

  Shaking her head, she headed into the bathroom to take a cold shower. Two hours later, after breakfast in the inn’s dining room, she met Mairi in the foyer.

  “My dear, I was relieved when your furniture arrived. Iain didn’t believe you would return after you left in a rush to visit your family.”

  “Sorry. I should’ve sent word from New York when I extended my trip. My cousin had problems with a couple of my old accounts. I couldn’t leave until my replacement got up to speed.”

  She’d finally done the unthinkable, resigned from her high-profile business-consulting job. Never again would she allow anal executives who thought themselves superior merely because they were born male belittle her. Brussels was her final business trip for the family firm. She was finished with tiresome trips, living out of a suitcase, eating room service meals.

  Her belly shimmied.

  Just thinking about the way she marched into Finn’s office and submitted her resignation left her giddy with relief and an incredible euphoria. The same soaring feeling she’d had when she flew in a hot air balloon over farmland while attending an air show in central New Jersey.

  He could believe she wimped out if he wanted, but she was finally taking control of her life.

  “I hope you straightened everything out so you don’t have to go back,” Mairi said, her gaze searching.

  “Actually, I had a wonderful visit.”

  “Good. And you’ll have plenty of time to relax here. Everything you sent from New York is in the cottage. I’ve set the day aside to help you unpack and get settled. I can hardly wait to discover what you have in all those boxes.”

  Taking Laurie’s silver BMW, they drove down the long dirt drive toward the cottage. As they rounded the last curve, the meadow came into view.

  “Look!” Laurie slammed on the brakes and pointed. “Those men are trying to kill each other.”

  Two huge men, dressed in kilts, bare chests bulging with muscle, metal flashing in bright sun, fought with extremely large swords. A terrifying sight, yet strangely thrilling.

  She grabbed the door handle—

  Mairi chuckled and grasped her arm, stopping her from getting out. “That is my Iain and Douglas MacKinnon rehearsing a battle reenactment for the society they belong to. I should have mentioned they practice here several mornings during the week. And some of the lads from town come to the meadow on Saturdays to train for the Highland Games at Grandfather Mountain. The gathering is quite the event come July. I hope they won’t disturb you.”

  Laurie followed the graceful dance of the combatants, fascinated by their strength and agility. She flinched at a loud clang as one sword sliced down hard on the other, the vibration shrill.

  “Laurie?”

  “Oh, yeah. I mean, no. They won’t bother me. My cousin Finn often attends the Highland games up north. I traveled most of the time and never had the opportunity.” Laurie struggled to suppress a pang of resentment. Finn managed to make time for his personal pursuits, but expected her to be on the road, working, one hundred percent of the time.

  She smiled, pleased with the changes she’d made in her life. She planned to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. With her trust fund—if she were thrifty—she’d have the means to do just that, at least for a while.

  “Watching the men practice will be interesting.” Laurie pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking. “Besides, I’ll get to ogle the muscular legs exposed by the sexy kilts they wear.”

  Oh, yeah, she’d enjoy watching the men.

  “Are you Scot then?” Mairi arched a brow.

  “My mother was a MacIntyre. I guess I’m half Scottish.”

  Mairi grinned and patted Laurie’s knee. “A wee bit of Scot’s blood makes you a Scot, lass.” She leaned back against the leather seat. “By the way, that handsome devil, Douglas MacKinnon, owns the Celtic Image shop in the village. He carries lovely Scottish items. That is, if you’ve a mind to wear the plaid.”

  “I’ll check out his shop the next time I go to the village.”

  When they entered the cottage, things were already in good order. They spent the next few hours unpacking and setting up housekeeping. Mairi carefully removed a bone china cup from one of the boxes. “Lovely tea service. I don’t recognize the floral pattern. Where did you get it?”

  “It’s antique. The set belonged to my mother. She and my father passed away when I was a child.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “Was a long time ago.” Laurie gazed at the beckoning garden beyond the kitchen window. “Let’s take a break and go outside for some fresh air.”

>   A few minutes later, she waved her arm over the messy beds. “Do you know anyone I might hire to help me? I have grand plans, but I can’t refurbish the garden by myself.”

  Mairi considered for a moment. “You can borrow our garden pixie, Caitrina. She takes care of our gardens. I’m sure she could find time to help you.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?”

  Laurie glanced around, then up. Above them, on the high wall, holding a picnic basket, sat Caitrina.

  Great. She hadn’t seen the rude woman since that day in the inn’s garden. Would have preferred not to meet her again. Though maybe she should be thankful for the information about the cottage and garden.

  Caitrina dropped from the wall to land gracefully on the soft soil.

  It was quite a drop. How did she do that without twisting an ankle? Laurie eyed her with suspicion.

  “And I’m not a pixie.” Caitrina’s chin jutted up and she sniffed indignantly.

  “Of course not, dear. You are not nearly as mischievous,” Mairi cajoled.

  “I brought lunch. Emily thought you might be hungry.”

  The two women exchanged eye contact as if Mairi pleaded with Caitrina to be nice.

  Caitrina graced Laurie with a half-smile. “Aye, I’ll help. Do you ken anything about making gardens?”

  “A little.” Laurie knew plants. She’d spent many a flight thumbing through garden catalogs and magazines studying how to grow them and combine them to best effect. The fact she didn’t have hands-on experience was insignificant. “I’m eager to learn.”

  “Are you now?” Caitrina wrinkled her nose. Do you think you’ll be here long enough to make a difference?”

  “Absolutely.”

  More than that, Laurie wanted to learn what it would take to start a garden business. Although she hadn’t admitted it to her uncle, she would never return to corporate. Excitement she hadn’t felt in ages swept over her.

  Whoa. Take it easy. One day at a time.

  She didn’t care for the way Caitrina stared. Maybe she should find someone else to help with the garden.

  “Well then, go to the library in the village and get some books for ideas. In a few days, we’ll visit my favorite garden centers for plants. In the meantime, start the spring cleanup. Clear the dead growth and weed.”