Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travel) (6 page)

Helen struggled with the cork for a couple of seconds before it popped free from the bottle. She poured a generous portion of wine into a tall, plastic glass before lifting it to her lips for a long drink.

She probably should have tried something stronger. Whisky. Leaning a hip along the counter, she watched the man in her apartment settle his very sexy ass on the backside of her sofa and regard her without saying a word.

Simon?

The boy in her picture had dark hair and blue eyes.

Helen went ahead and allowed her gaze to settle on her guest’s face.

Dark hair, blue eyes.

Big deal. Half the men in this country had those characteristics.

After another drink, Helen let her shoulders relax. She couldn
’t completely. Her body was too charged to let go of the energy of the day. Humming. She was positively humming and had been since she’d first laid eyes on this man. That same hum had sizzled when he touched her.

Even his innocent touch while tending to her leg felt like a thousand butterfly wings brushing against her skin—similar to the buzz she
’d felt before she’d found the book in Mrs. Dawson’s library, and the same buzz that had struck when she’d first seen the picture of Simon.

What did that say?

If the man in front of her wasn’t Simon, what would he gain by saying he was?

“You
’re Simon?”

“Aye.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“Exactly how is that possible?”

“Time travel.”

What did she expect him to say? Falling through a rabbit hole and waking in the Land of Oz didn’t hold a candle to this conversation.

“Time travel.”

Simon folded his roped-with-muscle arms across his chest. His lips didn’t crack into a chiding smile. He was serious.

“Two years ago, your time, my mother and I were whisked back in time, just as you were today. We found happiness there and decided to stay.”

“Decided?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She took another drink. Damn glass wasn’t full enough so she poured more wine. “If you decided to stay, how is it I found you in 2011?”

“You didn
’t. You found me in 1596.”

Whisky.
There had to be at least half a bottle somewhere. Helen shifted back to her cupboard and opened it wide. There it was. A few years ago, she’d had a boyfriend who liked Canadian whisky.
Thank God
.

The eyes of the man who called himself Simon followed her around the kitchen as she found a clean glass. Glancing at him, she went ahead and grabbed a second glass. After pouring the amber liquid, she handed him a drink, which he took with a nod.

Still he said nothing. It was as if he was giving her time to digest everything. Only offering answers to the questions she asked.

1596.
“I guess that answers the questions about the men in costumes swinging their swords.”

In a strange way, the time travel explanation sat easier on her mind than Simon being a thirty-year-old kilted man. Scratch that, naked man. She was about to ask what happened to his clothes, but didn
’t think she’d like his answer.

The whisky burned the back of her throat.

“If you decided to stay back in time, why are you here now?”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “That is a very good question, lass. One only you hold the answer to.”

“I don’t have any answers. I didn’t think time travel was possible until today.”

“So you believe me?”

Helen barked out a laugh. “Sure. Why not? This is all probably some crazy dream, and I’ll wake up tomorrow in Scotland with a hangover.”

“I understand why you
’d wish that. But tomorrow you’ll wake here in California. The hangover is a possibility if you continue to drink the rest of that bottle.”

Licking her lips, Helen felt some of the sizzling buzz generated by Simon
’s presence start to numb. The threat of a hangover didn’t deter her from lifting the glass to her lips again. A hangover sounded better than dealing with time travel sober.

“You think I
’m the reason you’re here?”

“You were searching for me, right?”

“I was.”

“Then you
are
the reason I’m here. What you and I need to discover is how you shifted time so I can return to my family.”

His family? Was he married? Did he have children of his own?

He finished his drink and set his glass to the side.

“I
’m not sure I can help you.”

“No need to worry about it tonight. We
’ll think more clearly in the morning.”

In the morning? Did he think he was going to sleep in her apartment? She didn
’t even know this guy.

“Listen, I don
’t know if it’s a good idea for you to stay here.”

“You
’re safe with me.” Simon walked around the couch and propped up one of the throw pillows for him to use.

“I don
’t even know you.”

“That is changing with every minute. Besides, if you have no idea how you shifted time, there
’s no way for you to stop it from happening again. Facing those Highland warriors again, alone, might not have such a pleasant outcome.”

Helen grimaced and finished the contents of her glass.

“I’ll find you an extra blanket.”

* * * *

A mild headache greeted Helen in the early morning hours. When she rolled over in her own bed, not the one costing her over a hundred dollars a day in Scotland, she couldn’t deny the events of the previous day.

If the wound on her leg hadn
’t reminded her of medieval men and their massive broadswords, the huge doorstop of a man lying on her living room couch did. With a few words of warning not to answer the door, Helen slipped out of her apartment to find some clothes for Simon.

His naked chest was a distraction. And for all she knew, he was a married man.
Off limits.
Not that she should be thinking about whether or not he had a main squeeze back in a castle somewhere—not considering the craziness her life had turned into during the past forty-eight hours. Still, she wondered.

****

A pair of sweats, an extra large t-shirt, and a pair of shoes later, Helen arrived back in her apartment to find Simon dipping into some of the junk food in her pantry.

“Here.” She thrust the clothes toward him. “I should ask you why you ended up naked, but my mind can
’t take a whole lot more.”

A strange smile inched over his lips. His brow lifted in what Helen thought was admiration.

Simon snagged a potato chip and tossed it in his mouth before turning toward her bathroom. “I’ll change.”

They continued to talk through the thin walls of her apartment. “Any theories yet as to how I ended up in the sixteenth century?” She asked questions to avoid thinking of him dressing.

“The magic must have been very powerful for you to have traveled without any aid.”

“Magic?”

“What else do you think powers time travel?”

Helen fluffed the pillow on the couch and went around tidying the room, a nervous habit she developed since childhood. “I don
’t know, a fairy Godmother,” she whispered to herself.

“What was that, lass?”

“Nothing. I just don’t believe in magic.”

“Now you
’re lying to yourself.”

Simon stepped from the bathroom in the ridiculous clothes. They didn
’t suit him at all. The size of the shirt was a complete miss. It stretched across his chest and highlighted every muscle beneath.
Not bad, too small, but not bad.

The baggy pants were too big. A shopping trip including his participation, would be necessary. Even so, he
’d turn plenty of heads dressed the way he was.

“You
’re calling me a liar?”

“I said you
’re lying to yourself. You believe in magic, or at the very least, power beyond the average person’s mind. You traveled all the way to Scotland because of a
feeling
.” Simon picked up the bag of chips and tucked his frame into a chair.

“That
’s not magic, it’s intuition.”

He glanced at a chip in his hand and waved it in the air. “I
’ve missed these.”

The silly grin reached all the way to his eyes, reminding her of the picture she had of him as a kid. “You really are him.”

She slid down on the couch and stared.

“I am,” he said around the chip as it made its way into his mouth. “Magic is very real, Helen. Not many people believe it exists because most people can
’t access it.”

“But I can?”

He nodded. “It’s in your heritage.”

“I wouldn
’t know squat about my heritage. I’m an orphan.”

Simon stopped chewing and placed his hand over hers. “I
’m sorry.”

Her hand heated under his, and she quickly pulled away. “It
’s nothing new. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“Family is most important where I
’m from.”

Focus, Helen. The man needs to get back to his wife.
“I’ll bet yours is missing you already.”

“Painfully, I
’m sure.”

“And I
’m responsible for you being separated from them. I’m sorry.”

Simon waved his hand in the air. “I
’m not holding you responsible. But I do think you hold the key to my return. Tell me every detail that led you to Scotland.”

She settled into the couch and explained what she could. “A few months ago I came across a pair of candlesticks at the auction house I work for. I
’m a photographer,” she explained. “Something about them….”

Oh, boy, she wanted to say “called to me” b
ut didn’t want to sound like a crack pot “I wanted to know more about them.” That sounded better.

“And?”

“Apparently, your mother was involved with their original sale. The paperwork regarding the transaction had her name all over it. It was then I learned of your disappearance.”

“And my mother
’s.”

“Yeah, but it was you I felt a need to find.”

Simon leaned forward, staring into her eyes. His eyes were soft eyes when he was relaxed, but she remembered how they’d turned hard during battle.

“Anyway. I told a friend of mine about what I
’d discovered, and it was her that led me to the book.”

“The book?”

“The one with your picture in it, a picture of you as an adult wearing a kilt. At least, I think it’s you.”

“Where is this book?”

“In my backpack tied to your horse.”

Simon blinked a few times and looked away. “That
’s good.”

“Good? Thousands of dollars worth of camera equipment, and the book that probably has the answers to how we get you home, are stuck in your century, and we
’re here. How is that good?”

“Kong will return to the Keep, and my family will find your pack. They
’ll know I’m safe. ’Tis a good thing. They may even be able to travel here and help me return.”

Helen
’s jaw dropped. “They can do that?”

“It
’s not been tried in some time, but aye, they can.”

“Then we don
’t have to do anything. We can just wait for them to come and get you.”

“I don
’t think so, lass.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said, but consider this. You had a compelling need to find me and you did. You defied everything I know of time travel to do so. My family may be able to
come and get me, as you say, but until we know exactly how you traveled and are able to prevent you from doing it again, ’tis best I stay by your side to keep you safe. There are immense powers at work here.”

Helen unfolded from the couch and started to pace. “Keep me safe? Why would you think I
’m not safe?”

“What do you think would have occurred had I not been in the woods when those men happened upon us?”

She shuddered with the thought of being left alone with six men who didn’t seem as if they’d seen a woman’s bare legs before.

“It was probably a fluke…my traveling through time.” Yet even as the words left her mouth, she knew better.

“Do you really believe that?”

“No. It sounded good though.”

Simon laughed. The sound was rich and full of humor. For the first time in two days, Helen smiled.

“Tell me where you found this book you speak of. Maybe we
’ll find answers there.”