by Eliza Knight
“Wherever did ye find him?”
“A fairy brought him to me.”
Marta tapped her hand on Amanda’s. “Ever the romantic. See ye next week.”
Amanda nodded, only having eyes for Camden.
One of her goals, since she’d gained ownership of The Book Cove was to make it a unique store, to pull in the tourists and even the local people themselves. She wanted to stand out. Really wow them.
Without knowing it, Marta had just given her a great idea.
The previous Sunday, when she’d closed the bookshop, Camden had taken her on a real tour of Skye. One she never would have experienced without a real, live medieval man showing her the way.
Wouldn’t the locals and visitors of Skye love to have a Highlander take them on a tour? Camden had been talking about earning his keep a lot lately. He seemed to think he’d be here a while, and although he knew customs today dictated that she could be the provider, his was a value ingrained deep within. She’d have to bring it up to him over lunch and pray he didn’t have a problem with her being the boss.
A secret smile played on her lips. Only a few weeks ago, she’d been dead set against marriage, even a long-term relationship. She’d vowed to never to go through the pain her mother had. But after meeting Camden, things had started to change. She’d started to change. The way he made her feel, the fun they had together, meant so much to her. She thought it might even be worth the pain of a nasty breakup just to have experienced life with him.
The moments they’d spent together since he’d traveled through time had been wondrous. He helped her in the bookstore, every couple of days to go and wander Dunvegan Castle and the grounds. At night, they spent their evenings alone in her flat above the bookstore. She cooked him dinner, amazing him with dishes like enchiladas and quesadillas. Mexican was her favorite food, and she could see it was quickly becoming Camden’s too. He taught her to play the card game, Noddy, and they stayed up all night, betting and laughing.
Her life had been forever changed when Camden walked into it, and when or if he went back to his own time, she would never forget him, nor recover from the feelings she had for him.
Amanda continued to gaze at Camden’s muscled legs and firm, taut backside, unaware until he cleared his throat that he’d caught her.
“Is it lunchtime yet?” he asked, his mouth curved wolfishly.
“Not yet, naughty boy.”
He climbed down the ladder and sauntered toward her. She waved her hands in front of her and shook her head.
“Oh no, you don’t! People are still coming in.”
“They won’t mind.” Like a wolf stalking his prey, he came around the counter. His hands snaked around her waist, and he pulled her against him. “I’m hungry now.”
Amanda was unable to resist his charm. The man had a way to make her melt with just one look. He pressed her against the counter and captured her lips with his. He tasted of citrus as his tongue swept inside to caress hers. Shivers of white-hot desire raced along her limbs, setting her loins on fire, her nipples begging for more of his touch. She laced her fingers through his hair, tugging him closer. He answered by gripping her derriere, massaging and tucking her against his engorged cock. All she had to do was reach under his kilt to feel the silky, heavy, hot length of him in her palm.
Ding! The door to the store chimed open.
“Uh-hmm.” Someone cleared their throat and coughed.
Amanda and Camden quickly pulled apart—she, like an embarrassed teen having been caught making out in the school hallway, and him, like the smug, arrogant man who’d had his wicked way with her.
Ulrich, a young musician around town, stood in the bookshop doorway.
“Excuse me,” she said, smoothing her dress. “May I help you?”
“Aye, Miss Bennett, I just wanted to give ye this flyer.” He walked forward and handed her the paper. “My band is playing tonight, and we’d sure love for ye and your…friend to come by.”
Amanda was sure from the amount of heat emanating from her cheeks, her face had just turned scarlet.
“Yes, of course! We’ll be there.” She nodded and handed the flyer to Camden to look over.
“Thanks, we’ll see ye tonight.” Ulrich left the store, a teasing snicker on his lips.
She was sure her sexual exploits would be all over town within the hour.
Amanda dressed with care that evening, donning a black silk casual sleeveless dress that accentuated her curves and her coloring. Not only did she want to look good for Camden, but this was their first official outing as a couple, and more than half the town would be at MacEwan’s Pub that night.
Camden whistled low in his throat when she walked out of the bedroom they’d been sharing. “Maybe we ought to stay in tonight.”
Her heart jumped to her throat just as it did every time that he looked at her as if he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and ravish her. She walked seductively up to him and trailed her finger from his throat to his kilt. “I promise…tonight I will fulfill your fantasies.”
His lip quirked wickedly, and he kissed her. His lips still touching hers, he whispered, “So ye’re bringing home that other woman of yours?”
She gasped, and he jumped back, howling with laughter. “You devil!”
“Aye, for only a devil could tempt an angel like ye, sweetheart.”
Amanda locked her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion she had inside. He was so right, so perfect. She was thrilled he’d accepted her offer to do tours. Secretly she’d wondered if he would take off to find another job somewhere, and now she didn’t have to.
“We best get going, or I’ll be taking ye on the floor right here and now.”
Reluctantly they parted and headed for MacEwan’s. When they arrived, the band had already started playing. Charming and enchanting melodies floated through the air. Some old Scottish classics, some American rock ‘n’ roll.
Amanda grabbed them each a mug of Ebulum ale.
Camden took a gulp. “Ah, I love that ale is still ale!”
Amanda smiled, knowing that Ebulum had been made from a sixteenth-century Highland recipe that Camden was sure to appreciate.
They found a booth in a far corner to settle into.
“Ah, the music, ’tis…” Camden trailed off. A distant expression filled his face.
Amanda panicked for a moment. Did he hate it? She took a gulp of beer, wishing she had something just a little stronger to calm her nerves.
He turned toward her, a smile on his lips. “I like it verra much. ’Tis like the music I know, only different.”
A barman walked up to their table. “Lawson’s scotch, from the lady over there.” He pointed to Marta, who laughed and waved at them before turning back to the band. They murmured their thanks, and each threw back their shot. The liquid burned her throat as it went down, then instantly warmed her. Lawson’s was the absolute best Scotch whiskey in all of Scotland.
Camden started to laugh when he placed his shot glass back on the table. “’Tis just like Willy’s!”
“Willy’s?”
“Aye, one of my clansmen, William, we call him Willy. He used to make it out in his croft—brought me a jug every couple of weeks or so.”
Amanda laughed. “I wonder if there’s a link between your Willy and William Lawson?”
“Mayhap. Funny how many things in your time are similar to mine. We aren’t all that different, you and I.” His hand came to rest over hers.
“No, we’re not.” She bit her lip, knowing now was the time to tell him. Confess her feelings. She couldn’t hold back any longer. “Camden, I—”
The music stopped. “Hold that thought, lassie. I have a surprise for ye.”
She was somewhat relieved, and a little disappointed, when he kissed her briefly, stood up and walked toward the stage. She’d wanted so badly to tell him how she felt, but at the same time, she was scared out of her wits.
“Tonight, we have a special guest
,” Ulrich said into the microphone. “Camden MacLeod is going to play a tune for us.”
The bar erupted into applause as he approached the stage. Amanda’s mouth went dry. What was going on? He knew how to play the guitar? After all their conversations, she’d known he loved music, but he’d never divulged that he could play.
Silence filled the bar as he took a seat on a barstool onstage, one foot resting on the floor, the other propped on the rung of the stool. His kilt rested in between his legs, affording his audience with a healthy and spectacular view of his calves and thighs.
He slung the guitar strap over his shoulder and rested the instrument on his thigh, holding it upright with his left hand. The man looked as though he’d been made to play the guitar, for his form was so perfect. He leaned into the microphone. “I want to dedicate this song to a special woman, Amanda.” He smiled at her amongst the hoots and claps, and her heart melted.
Tears came to her eyes. Camden’s eyes locked on hers, emotion filling them—melting her completely.
“I wrote this song a long time ago, and I never knew what it meant until now. I love ye.”
Amanda choked on a sob, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. He winked at her and then closed his eyes, his fingers splaying over the strings.
He started to play, the melody filling the air like an enchanting seductress. The song could only be described as hauntingly beautiful…and familiar. The crowd grew silent, stunned speechless by the power of his music. All eyes trained on him as he stroked the strings of the guitar, making love to the instrument and thus to the entire crowd. The music pulsed through Amanda’s veins, settling in her stomach, vibrating her insides.
Bodies swayed in the audience, arms wrapped around one another.
She sat back in the booth, her hand at her throat, then toyed with the stone necklace that had grown warm against her skin. Her stomach did flips, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. With each caress of his fingers on strings, he told of his love for her, and it was so powerful. Magic, enchantment and destiny were the only words that could describe it. She felt it flowing through her, wrapping its way around her insides, gripping her. Her body came alive from his music. Gooseflesh puckered her skin. A memory of hearing the song before was just on the recesses of her mind.
Then it came to her.
The tower stairs, his song had called to her once before, making her come alive. She knew in that instant all of her doubts had been for naught.
Camden was her soul mate, her love for all time, and not even five hundred years could separate them.
When he ended the song, she sprang up from her place and ran toward the stage. Claps, hoots and hollers erupted as people cheered them on. Camden stood, swung the guitar behind his back and caught her as she leaped into his arms.
“Oh, Camden, I love you so much…so much…I love you,” she murmured as she kissed him all over his face. “It was beautiful. I loved it.”
“Woman, stop your fashing and let me kiss ye proper.”
The bar broke out in laughter at his words and chanted, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
He bent her over his arm as if she weighed nothing more than air and claimed her lips for a thorough, provocative kiss. Normally, she would have been embarrassed, but the emotions flowing through her were so fresh, so fulfilling, freeing, that she could do little more than surrender to him, giving him all she had and more.
When they finally broke their kiss, the crowd cheered. They made their way back to their booth, receiving handshakes, hugs and admonishments along the way.
“Where did you learn to play like that?” she asked, still amazed by his talents.
“I learned to play the lute as a young boy. I played every night, even wrote my own music as a hobby. The guitar and the lute aren’t so different.”
“It was beautiful.”
“Thank ye. That song reminded me of ye, fairy.”
As soon as they sat down, the bar owner, Robert MacEwan, approached them.
“Mr. MacLeod, I’d be honored if ye’d play a couple of nights a week here in my pub. I’d pay ye well for your talents.”
Camden’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to.”
They discussed a schedule and wages briefly. Robert went back to his duties.
“Ye know what this means?” He gripped her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs along her palms. “With the tours and playing music, I will make a good honest living.” He paused a moment as if trying to figure out a way to say what was on his mind. “I want to stay here with you, in your time. Here, I’m more than just a warrior. I’m a person who can pursue my life’s passion and do it with the woman I love.”
Amanda smiled, glad that he’d been able to find something he loved. Earning his own way had been a worry of his over the last week or so.
“I’m so happy for you, Camden.”
Sadness crept over his features. “I feel like I’ve failed my people. A laird’s duty is to his clan. My own desires have no place in that life. But here…” He trailed off.
“I know your brother would be happy, and proud of you too.”
“Aye, I think ye’re right. He would be proud. He was always more of a warrior than I, a natural protector. He will do our clan proud, and they will prosper, I’m sure.” Relief visibly eased the tension in his shoulders and the furrow in his brow.
Amanda chewed on her lip and blinked back tears. “What does this mean for us?”
He pulled her in and kissed her gently. “I love ye, Amanda. I want to be with ye.”
“I love you too.” And she did, she truly did. But part of her wondered if they made a go at this, would he regret it? Would he wish they’d tried harder to get him back to his own time?
11
They barely made it back to her flat without falling to the ground and making love. They kissed the whole way from the pub to the bookshop, stopping along the way. Camden pressed her against a wall and fondled her breasts. At one point, he was bold enough to duck her into an alley, lift the hem of her dress and slide his fingers between her wet folds, stroking her until she screamed. She wrapped her leg around his hip and begged him to lift his kilt for her, but he chuckled and denied her request.
They slammed open the bookshop door, locking it tight. He bent her over the counter next to the register. This time he did lift his kilt, rubbing his heavy thick length over her slit.
“I want you, Cam,” she moaned, rolling her hips back, trying to push his cock inside her. It was as if the feelings they’d shared had unleashed a tigress, and she needed to have him and have him now.
“Oh, aim to have ye.” He thrust inside her, and she arched her back, taking him in farther.
Amanda cried out with pleasure anchoring herself against the counter.
Cam sucked on the sensitive skin of her neck, massaging her breasts, flicking her nipples with his fingertips.
“Does it feel good?” he rasped, thrusting hard inside her.
“So good…”
Grasping her chin, he turned her head and thrust his tongue into her mouth in rhythm with his cock. Then he pulled out, leaving her feeling achy and empty.
“Ach, ye feel so good,” he growled. He pulled her face around to meet him again, claiming her mouth once more as he remained still inside her
She moaned, arching her back. “Oh, yes.”
Camden slipped his arms around her, one hand stroking her breasts and nipples and the other stroking her cleft. He stroked her clit with his thumb and thrust two fingers into the heat of her. Again, her body came to life. She writhed against him, pushing her arse back, begging him to start moving within her. When she thought she might scream if he didn’t move, he did. Pulling out slowly and then gently pushing back inside. He did it again, and the slow sweet torture of it was too much. Amanda wanted him to thrust inside her; her body begged him to. She pushed back roughly with her arse, her hands reaching behind her and gripping his hips.
“Harder, Camden.”
“I dinna want to
hurt ye…”
“You won’t,” she promised.
He pulled out slowly but then thrust deep. Amanda thought she might die from the exquisite pleasure jolting through her body. He began to move in rhythm, pumping his hips. Her mind let go, she could no longer think, only feel as he drove inside her again and again.
Everything exploded. Her vision blurred as white fuzz danced before her eyes. Camden thrust hard one more time then pulled out.
“God in Heaven…I dinna think it could get any better,” he moaned against the nape of her neck.
“And yet every time…every time it does.” Her voice was hoarse from all of her moans and shouts.
She laughed, wondering briefly if the police might come knocking from all the noise they’d made.
Amanda lay awake in bed, guilt riddling her insides. She looked over at the sleeping form of Camden. Moonlight streamed through the window, making shiny streaks in his dark silky hair. He lay on his belly, naked, the sheet covering his buttocks and nothing else. He looked so peaceful, and she wondered what he dreamt about. Of his home? His clan?
She sighed deeply. His love for her was beautiful, magical, and she felt the same way toward him…but she couldn’t help the guilt. Why hadn’t they tried harder to get him back to his time? It was as if when he told her of his vision that they’d both been relieved and readily accepted it as fact. But what if it were only a dream? What if his fears of war, death and pain for his clan were true?
Unable to just lie there and ruminate, Amanda slipped soundlessly from the bed, pulled on her robe and snuck down to the bookstore. She had to find that book on Dunvegan again, see what it said about the history of Cam’s time. Had it changed? Instead of turning on the lights, she grabbed her flashlight and walked into the stacks. Almost immediately, her flashlight illuminated the book, Dunvegan Castle. Pulling it from the shelf, she sat on the floor. The last time she’d looked at this book had been before she met Camden.