How To Steal A Highlander

by Olivia Norem

  Chapter 15

  Kat stretched lazily, and a sigh of utter contentment escaped her. Vaguely aware the rain had stopped and the sun was up, she was clearly aware of the man spooned behind her. The heat of Simeon’s body nestled against her was too delicious to ignore. His arms cocooned her protectively, and his warm breath caressed her neck. Her eyes fluttered open, and she snuggled backward — pressing against the hard, manly heat against her buttocks. A soft smile came to her lips. Even in sleep the man was aroused.

  Her fingers meandered along his arms, and she reflected on everything that had transpired between them. After leisurely soaping every inch of each other’s bodies, Simeon had declared them sufficiently waterlogged. He’d wrapped her securely in thick towels, kissing her breathless before carrying her to his bed.

  They’d shared a glass of whiskey, with his teasing promise of finding her “heartier fare” in the morning. Then he’d made love to her so tenderly, she thought her heart would break from it. She’d never had a man worship her so thoroughly before, making her feel beautiful and utterly female.

  Exhausted and hesitant to leave him, Simeon’s gentle directive removed her caution. He had wrapped his arms around her, and whispered in his heavy brogue, “Stay lass, I like the feel of ye in me arms.” They’d fallen asleep still joined together.

  Kat arched into him again and she felt his groggy murmur rumble against her back. One broad hand eased down and rounded the curve of her hip, pulling her firmly backward to his erection, now straining against her. Her fingers ran over his forearm, delighting in the small flexes of his muscles as his fingers kneaded her hip.

  With a muted male groan of pleasure, his lips found her neck. The soft bristle of his beard chafed her tender skin and Kat answered him with a drowsy purr of pleasure. Simeon was hard and hot now. His hand pushed her hip, turning her just enough. He slid into the sizzling heat between her thighs, and Kat gasped.

  Her body was tight and sore with a dull ache, slowly dissolving to pleasure. He pushed slowly inside, inch by glorious inch, until Kat was softly moaning from the delicious friction. “Oh, is it always like this… with you?” Kat whispered dreamily and opened her legs to his questing fingers.

  His lips buried against her neck again and his arm tightened around her. She was trapped full against him, her legs spread wide to his touch as he thrust in and out of her with infinite slowness. His fingers circled across her sensitive nub, matching the erotic rhythm of his rocking hips.

  She could feel him smile against her neck. His reply was laced in his dusky brogue. “’Tis all yer doin’ lass. Ye and yer bonny arse.” His teeth raked the sensitive shell of her ear, making her gasp again. He felt her tighten around him, and his thrusts moved to deliberate pace. Kat cried out, digging her nails into his forearm. Their moans intermingled, and Simeon stroked relentlessly, spilling himself deeply inside of her.

  Floating in the dreamy wake of spent pleasure, a loud bang! snapped them from their languished reverie. They both stiffened abruptly at the noise and heard a string of muffled curses beyond the door.

  “Just one more reason to kill my brother,” Kat growled softly and shook her head. A low chuckle rumbled behind her, and Simeon flexed inside of her. She quivered against him, delighting in the rapturous tremors he caused.

  “I think we should greet the day, lass.”

  “Mmm,” Kat rolled her hips sensually against him, “Isn’t that what we just did?”

  He pulled from her and slapped her buttock softly. “Saucy lass,” he chided. Simeon sat up and swung his legs to the floor. Kat bounced across the bed, giggling happily. Before he could rise, she pushed herself into his lap, smiling from ear to ear.

  “Whot are ye aboot, lass?” he smiled and pulled her to him, loathe to leave the bed. Kat ran her fingers over his bristled jaw as she gazed at him, her eyes dancing mischievously. No one should look this good the morning after a long night of strenuous lovemaking. It was completely unfair how handsome Simeon was.

  Without warning he twisted them both and Kat found herself pressed back on the bed with Simeon on top of her. He threaded his fingers in hers and pulled her hands up to her sides. His Katherine was a lovely creature. Her hair tumbled across the sheets and her eyes glittered up at him like emeralds. Her skin was flushed from their lovemaking, and she caught her lower lip in her teeth, smiling up at him impishly.

  “Keep this up and we’ll never get out of bed,” Kat giggled. She glanced away shyly before returning her eyes to his.

  “Aye. ‘Twould be a terrible way tae spend the day with ye,” he grinned wickedly and squeezed her fingers gently. Simeon lowered his head and peppered her neck with featherlight kisses.

  “Yes, horrible,” Kat moaned and arched beneath him.

  “Okay, okay,” she squirmed as his teeth nipped playfully at her neck, “besides, I have a few things to show you today.” Simeon raised his head and cocked a suggestive brow at her. Kat giggled again.

  “I hae a few things yet tae show ye as well, Katherine.” His voice was graveled and throaty. His lips closed over hers and his tongue swiped her mouth in sensual, velvety strokes. When Simeon broke their kiss, he saw her eyes glazed over once again. A feeling of deep, male satisfaction bloomed in his chest. He’d brought that look to her face.

  Releasing her hands and levering up away from her, he spoke gently. “But ye’ll hae to wait lass. I think ‘tis best no’ tae keep yer brother waitin’ much longer.”

  Kat agreed and accepted his hand to help her off the bed.

  “Oh, no,” she looked at him wide-eyed. She froze in a brief panic.

  “Katherine?”

  “I don’t have any clothes in here.” Kat could picture her dress still lying in a wet heap in his shower. If Ian was anywhere in the house besides his room, he’d have a clear view of her exiting Simeon’s room. It was ridiculous, but Kat didn’t exactly want to flaunt her private matters in front of her brother.

  She quickly formed a plan and waved a frantic hand at him. “Get dressed Simeon.” She rushed into the bathroom and wrapped herself securely in a towel. Gathering up her clothes and grimacing at their sodden state, Kat wrung them out as best she could. A quick glance in the mirror made her cringe. She looked exactly like she’d been embroiled in passion all night. Smoothing her hair as best she could, Kat rushed from the bathroom. She halted suddenly, and her heart tripped.

  Simeon was standing in the center of the room facing away from her. Dark-wash jeans hugged his muscular thighs and the curves of his ass perfectly. His broad shoulders were outlined in a simple black T-shirt, tapering to his waist. He turned to face her. His hair was brushed back, skimming his shoulders. His eyes were mesmerizing.

  Seeing her expression, he frowned and glanced down at his clothes. “Is aught amiss, lass?” It was hard to remember this man was from another century when he rocked jeans like that.

  “No. You look… you look really good.” Kat blushed. She opened the door and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee wafted toward her. Kat stiffened as she saw Ian. He was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, casually sipping a cup of coffee. He certainly didn’t look hung over. He leveled her with a stoic gaze.

  “Kat,” he said with a curt nod. Then his eyes went past her shoulder and he spoke again with another nod. “Simeon.”

  “Ian,” the voice sounded behind her.

  “I — I… my shower had no hot water…” Kat stammered feeling ridiculously stupid. Ian cocked his head slightly to the side and pursed his lips into a thin line. He wasn’t buying a word of it. By his expression, he was perturbed she’d try such a lame excuse and expect him to believe it.

  “Save it Kat. We have bigger problems this morning. Get dressed. The three of us need to talk.”

  ###

  Isobel chanted the ancient words, and dipped a perfectly-pointed, red fingernail into the brackish waters of the silver bowl. The once-still surface rippled and bubbled, rising in momentum to a boiling steam. The mist thickened and rolled lazily
from the center, spilling outward over the rim of the bowl until the water was obscured completely.

  Isobel peered into the foggy haze as the center widened, repelling from the surface like oil and vinegar. The image before her wavered, trembling and blurry, and then coalesced with stunning clarity on the surface of the now calm water.

  It was Simeon!

  He was seated at a table, clad in modern clothing, and unquestionably free from his stone prison. Isobel scrutinized every part of the image. The room he was in made it impossible to determine if he was here, in Switzerland, or somewhere else. But there was no doubt of one fact. Simeon was in this century.

  Isobel’s angered breath rippled the waters of the bowl, and she tamped down her urge to swipe the thing from the table. She had smelled him earlier, in the airport in Geneva — a complete coincidence. But the familiar scent, astonishingly, led her to a curly-haired beauty who did not resemble her Highland Laird at all.

  The answer was simple. The woman bore his scent. Simeon’s intoxicating, mouth-watering, male scent meant she’d lain with him — and recently too. The thought had almost sent Isobel into a tornado of rage, but she wisely tempered her reaction. Simeon had escaped her carefully architected prison, and somehow, the woman was involved.

  Was there stronger magic at work here? Isobel needed answers.

  Instead of wreaking physical revenge on the woman, Isobel had toyed with her mind. She popped around corners of the streets of Geneva, keeping just enough distance to unnerve the lass with her unseen presence. When the lass sought some peace in a sidewalk café, Isobel couldn’t resist taking a closer look. She’d waved a finger to spill her bag — childish magic, really. The woman’s expression gave everything away when she lifted her foot and saw the crushed mirror beneath her shoe.

  Cursing humans and their silly obsessions with hours and minutes, and groan — paperwork, Isobel had reluctantly left Simeon’s little pet in the café. She had papers to sign — papers that would not wait.

  Isobel focused on the image again, and what she saw made her halt in horror. The book! Simeon and a man partially obscured from her view had their heads bent together, reading and pointing over the book. It was an ancient text, carefully penned and guarded by those cursed Druids over the centuries. In it contained secrets, spells, counterspells, and testimonies; but most importantly, it described the means to take away Isobel’s magic. Forever.

  If Simeon had the book, he was definitely in Scotland. Isobel knew of the spell protecting the tome, but it was not her magic. It could never be removed from Scotia. If it were attempted, the book would simply vanish and then reappear at its last resting place within her bordered shores.

  Isobel tapped her nails on the surface of the Biedermeier desk, pondering worst-case scenarios. It was bad enough he’d escaped, but if Simeon were to use the knowledge of the book… it could very well mark her demise. A ghastly sound tore from her throat.

  The book also contained the secrets of time travel with uncanny precision. The gods help her, Simeon could, quite possibly, return to a time before she’d encased him in that cell of stone. Frowning and deep in thought, she noted that there were only four times a year it was possible to move through time. And one of those times was coming soon.

  Samhain.

  The ancient celebration of Samhain, marking the last day of the year in the Celtic calendar. Samhain would commence all over the Highlands of Scotia in three short days. The passage would remain open only from sunset on the first day until sunrise on the next. It was vital Isobel be there to move back through time. If not, all could be lost.

  “Angelique, there you are, my love.” The man’s German-accented English interrupted her thoughts. He was impeccably dressed in a suit and tie.

  “Good afternoon, Gerhard,” Isobel replied in a silky purr that betrayed her mood.

  The man groaned and pretended to adjust his cufflinks. He knew that tone.

  A wealthy Swiss industrialist, Gerhard Berndt was her most recent conquest, still hanging on from last quarter. Isobel had kept him around longer than the others. It was due in part to the distractions of the twenty-first century and its conveniences. The other reasons? Not only was he blessedly well-endowed — he had the stamina of a Roman gladiator.

  Isobel liked how easy it was to manipulate these modern people. A flick of her wrist could cause a ten-block power outage. The humans would exit their dwellings and mill about looking at each other with vacuous stares — hopelessly powerless. A few well-placed keystrokes and a whispered suggestion in the ear of a programmer set teams of minions to search for computer viruses that didn’t exist. A well-timed photograph would find its way to syndicated tabloids, ruining marriages and careers of politicos. The people of this time, so dependent on their technology instead of their wits and cunning, were wildly entertaining.

  And the weapons! Oh, the instruments of annihilation mankind had invented! Guns, bullets, bombs, toxins, poisonous waste, exotic drugs, and diseases! It was a beautiful thing to witness. Humans, it seemed, were no longer concerned with their own survival as they had been centuries before. Instead, they were hell-bent on their own destruction, and Isobel was only too happy to help them seek their end.

  Yes, Isobel definitely liked this century.

  She could have easily manipulated all the money she needed, but it was so much more gratifying to simply seduce her way to affluence. She licked her lips wantonly and gave Gerhard a look with which he was well acquainted.

  As she rose from the desk, his eyes flickered over the swells of her breasts, pushed upward in her black satin corset. Her long, shapely limbs were encased in garters and stockings. The sheer black robe billowed out behind her.

  Another groan.

  Although he was in his mid 60s, Gerhard Berndt was in excellent physical shape. He was filthy rich and carried himself with the distinguished demeanor born of generations of aristocratic breeding. Once widowed and twice divorced, Gerhard was never without the company of a beautiful woman. While his prowess with the fairer sex was borderline legendary, he’d never met a woman like Angelique. And recently, despite warnings from his personal physician, he had taken to popping Viagra like candy several times a day — just to keep pace with his new bride’s carnal appetites.

  “I have a meeting, Angelique,” he said brusquely. He raised a halting hand and shook his head. A brief picture flickered in her mind. It would have been so much more comical if he had clicked his heels together too.

  “They’ll wait.” She walked toward him slowly, rolling her hips suggestively. He was mesmerized at the way the light played between the juncture of his wife’s ivory thighs. She was the most captivating woman he’d ever known. Sex with her was wicked and intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough of her enchanting presence… but this meeting, it was critical to his future.

  Their future.

  “Not this time, my love. Three hours. No more. Then I return,” his tone was clipped. Succinct. Gerhard could be so droll when he was trying to take the upper hand. Surely he knew by now that tone didn’t work with her.

  “Are you telling me no, Gerhard?” Her voice was hypnotic. One hand slipped up around his neck and the other cupped his crotch. Hard. He inhaled sharply, vaguely wondering how he could be sore in places no male should be.

  “I am telling you no, Angelique,” he said in the best authoritative tone he could muster.

  “Oh, Gerhard,” she laughed seductively and traced her nails along the back of his neck. Her black eyes sparkled with lust.

  Gerhard felt shivers racing down his spine as his cock jumped and thickened beneath her hand. Helpless against this insatiable seductress he’d married, his arms wrapped around her waist.

  “Mmm… you know how I love it when you tease me… now come. Tease me more,” she murmured and pulled his head to hers.

  Gerhard groaned again but was powerless to resist her tempting kiss. As their lips touched, she read his thoughts. This woman will be the death of me.

&n
bsp; Sinister laughter echoed in the chambers of her mind as Isobel curled a leg upward around his waist.

  Aye, Gerhard. I most certainly will be.

  Chapter 16

  Kat tip-toed cautiously from her room and paused to listen from the hallway. There were no shouts, and thank goodness, no sounds of fighting, simply the muted tones of Ian’s voice followed by Simeon’s deep, melodic replies. She exhaled a sigh of relief. Ian was being downright civil. Perhaps he truly did have something epic to discuss?

  Dressed in jeans and a bulky sweater, the least sexy clothes she’d packed, it seemed the appropriate outfit to square off with her brother. The most difficult thing about confronting Ian this morning? Stifling the morning afterglow. There was something unsettling about sitting down to breakfast with your big brother and the man with whom you just shared mind-blowing sex. Besides, Ian said he wanted to talk, and that could go either way. Kat really didn’t want Simeon to witness how much of an ass her brother was capable of being.

  Kat’s brow furrowed in confusion. Simeon and Ian were exchanging an animated conversation over their spent plates and what appeared to be some unusual book. As if sensing her presence, Simeon turned and locked his blue eyes on her. A ghost of a smile played on his lips as he rose and crossed the room, seeming to consume her from head to toe.

  “Good morrow, Katherine.” The rich baritone of his voice, combined with the rolling “R’s” of his brogue, sent shivers down her spine. When he raised her hand to his lips, the details of everything that had transpired between them hours before assaulted every sense with wicked clarity. His lips on her bare skin, the scent of him—spicy, warm, and pure male... cocooned in the breadth of his shoulders…

  Kat’s heart lurched as his eyes roamed her face. A passing thought that no one should look as good as Simeon did after only a scant hours of sleep quickly evaporated when he turned her hand in his and placed an intimate kiss on her palm.