Highlander’s Curse (5 page)

“Twenty-first,” he muttered, striding to the window and pushing aside the draperies. “Then I must find Mairi. She lives somewhere in this Colorado.”

Yep, perfect. Abso-freaking-lutely perfect. Not only had she brought a strange, possibly deranged man home with her, on top of everything else, he turned out to belong to another woman.

If her life got any better this morning, she’d simply scream.

Nothing to be done now but to get this nightmare over and done with. She might as well swallow her pride and get on with it. “Does this Mairi of yours have a last name?” She could only pray her question hadn’t sounded as snarky to him as it had to her.

“MacKiernan.” He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the street in front of her house long enough to look at her when she spoke. “No!” he called as she started out of the bedroom. “She was to wed. Her name would be Navarro now.”

As if a two-ton weight had been lifted off her chest, Abby breathed in a great gulp of air. He didn’t belong to another woman after all.

Wait a minute . . .

“Mairi MacKiernan Navarro?” She’d taken a class in medieval studies with the woman a couple of years ago. Professor Navarro had known her subject matter so well, it had quickly become one of Abby’s all-time favorite classes.

“Aye, that’s my cousin’s name.”

His cousin. Humiliation on top of humiliation. Fate and Coincidence must have been drinking at the table next to her in the bar last night, just sitting around with nothing better to do than plot this bizarre fluke in her life. Now she’d get to call up a favorite ex-professor to confess she’d snatched the woman’s cousin from the airport hotel and spent such a wild night with him that all his belongings, including the clothes off his back, were completely missing.

Abby pushed a tumble of hair out of her face and headed into the living room to look up Professor Navarro’s phone number.

Come to think of it, she’d be best off to skip the whole wild-night thing.

Colin’s mother had always told him there were no coincidences when the Fae were involved. That being the case, he could only thank the Fates for what little favor they’d shown him. Like allowing him to remember the name of the place where his cousin Mairi had told them she lived. Like remembering what century she inhabited.

Most of all, thank the Fates that this woman in whose bed he’d found himself had been able to contact Mairi on that tiny box of hers.

Little else might make sense to him at the moment, but the one thing he didn’t doubt for an instant was that the Fae had sent him here, to this time, to this woman, for a reason.

Though as to what that reason might be, he hadn’t a clue.

And as to the woman?

He scratched his stubbled chin, feeling the smile that spread over his face. He’d found little in life quite so pleasing to his senses as Abigail Porter. And for a fact, nothing had ever felt so good in his arms.

Too bad she seemed to have no better idea as to why he was here than he did. Less of an idea in truth, since she’d apparently managed to convince herself he’d gotten here in some normal way, brought by something she called a
taxi
.

“They should be here soon.”

Unable to help himself, he stared at her as she stood in the doorway, a short, fluffy garment covering her, neck to knees, her hair wrapped in more of the same strange material.

“Feel free to help yourself to breakfast while you wait. There’s cereal in the cupboard next to the stove and I just picked up milk at the store yesterday, so it’s fresh. You’re welcome to whatever else you find in the fridge.”

Fridge?
He shook his head in refusal, unwilling to admit he had no idea what she talking about. Mairi and Ramos would arrive soon, and they would help him make sense of this world. Until then he’d simply sit here on this amazingly well-padded chair and say as little as possible.

“You’re sure you don’t want coffee? Oh, duh!” She lifted the heel of her hand to the side of her head. “You’re a Scot. Of course. Tea? Would you like tea?”

“Nothing, thank you, my lady.”

With a shrug of her shoulders and a confused little frown, she disappeared back into the chamber she’d
called her bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving the scent of flowers wafting in her wake. The smell was new so it must have something to do with the
shower
she’d said she was going to take.

He sat quietly, allowing his eyes to explore all the mysterious wonders in this room, chief among them shelves and shelves of books.

“Okay.” She sounded breathless when she at last returned to the room and hurried to the window, as if she’d been rushing.

Her hair, brown and shining, had been pulled back from her face on either side. While the bulk hung down her back in long curls, one soft tendril lay over her shoulder.

His hand fairly itched to feel those curls sliding through his fingers.

“I’m sure they’ll be here any minute now.” She tugged on the curl at her shoulder, winding it around her finger nervously. “So. Where in Scotland are you from? I’m actually going to get to go there this summer.”

“My home is called Dun Ard.” And if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine her standing on the great staircase there.

“Dun Ard,” she repeated. “Sounds lovely.”

She’d crossed her arms protectively under her breasts, a stance she’d taken repeatedly over the course of their morning together, and fixed her gaze out the window.

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

It was likely nerves that kept her repeating those words, as if meant to reassure them both, a suspicion confirmed when she began to chew at her bottom lip.

“Unless my directions were . . . wait. Maybe this is them now.”

Colin rose and moved across the room to stand beside her. “It is.”

Ramos stepped out of one of the strange carriages he’d seen earlier through the window and walked around to the other side to open a door, allowing Mairi to emerge. Both of them looked as if they’d hardly aged a day since Colin had seen them last, nearly eleven years ago.

“Okay. So, I guess you’ll be on your way. You know, before you go, I don’t quite. . . um. . . know how to ask this without sounding like a total idiot but . . .” Her eyes cut up to his and quickly away as her cheeks colored an attractive red. “I’m not sure what, if anything, happened between us last night. Would you by any chance remember if we. . . uh, you know,
did
anything?”

She worried that he’d dishonored her?

“No, we did nothing.”

“Yeah, but . . . I mean, no offense, but if you didn’t even remember my name, how can you be so sure you’d remember anything that happened between us?”

So innocent and lovely, her face all but flaming as she spoke. Without thought, he opened himself to her, allowing himself to see the outline of her soul blazing around her.

Golden with ragged edges.

Lifting a hand to her neck, he urged her to look up at him before he responded. “I can assure you I would no have forgotten something as rare as coupling with a woman like you. To my great regret, it dinna happen. You may believe me, lass.”

He lowered his lips to hers, surprising himself as much as it might have surprised her. And yet it was as if there was no way to avoid it. Not even what he’d seen in that glimpse of her aura could stop him. He simply had no choice.

Even more surprising was her response. It was as if she melted into him, parting her lips when his tongue demanded entry. She tasted sweet, like honey and mint, and he had to force himself to break the kiss and step away.

“My thanks for yer kind hospitality, Abigail Porter, and for the loan of yer bed cover.”

Backing away from her, he opened the door and stepped outside to meet his cousins as they approached.

“Colin!” Mairi hurried forward and threw her arms around his neck. “Good Lord, what are you wearing? How did you get here? I want to hear everything.”

Ramos clapped a hand on his shoulder before the two of them hurried him off toward their odd transport.

Once seated inside, Colin looked back toward the dwelling to see Abigail standing in the open door, her fingers pressed to her lips.

He resisted the urge to lift his hand in farewell or to call out to her. It was not his right to do so. It was clear from the golden color he’d seen in her aura that she’d already met her Soulmate. Met, though they’d not yet joined. The ragged edges of her aura confirmed that.

And yet, in spite of this knowledge, he felt inexplicably drawn to her. Perhaps it was because whatever reason the Fae had for ripping him from his own time had something to do with her. At this moment, he simply had no clue as to what that reason might be.

One thing he was sure of, though. He knew in his bones that he would see her again. He would learn the reason for his being here and he would see Abigail Porter again.

Selfishly, foolishly, he hoped her aura’s edges would still be ragged when next he laid eyes on her.

T
he past fortnight had been the longest of his life.

Colin stared out the window of the speeding automobile, watching the unfamiliar scenery whip by.

“If there’s any who can figure out a way for us to get you home, Pol is definitely the one.” Mairi reached back from her spot in the front passenger seat to pat his knee. “Try no to worry yerself so, Cousin.”

All that was important to him hung in the balance and his only hope was Pol? How could he not worry? Considering his inability to return to his own time, worry was all that was left to him. This Faerie ancestor they were to meet at the home of Mairi’s brother today was his last chance; this same Faerie ancestor who’d ignored him each and every time he’d gone to the Glen to plead for the ancient Prince’s assistance.

The lives of Alasdair Maxwell and Simeon MacDowell,
the two men who had grown to be as much brothers as friends to him, would forever be on his head were he unable to return. Their lives and the lives of the four thousand men he’d left behind in that field at Methven.

Dead. So many of them would be dead.

Only days before as he’d tried to distract himself from his worries, he’d discovered the room his cousin called her research library, filled floor to ceiling with wondrous shelves of books, finer than any he’d seen in all his life. One tome in particular had caught his eye, a history of Scotland’s Wars of Independence. Scanning the index, one name in particular had stood out: Methven. He’d hurriedly flipped the pages to read about the Battle of Methven, named for the place where he’d last seen his friends and fellow warriors. What he’d found there in those pages had shaken him to the depths of his soul, haunting his dreams.

“Without my return, they’ll likely die. Sim and Dair both. I have to go back. I must warn them and alert the Bruce to move his men before they’re slaughtered as they sleep.”

“That’s something you canna do, Colin.” Mairi’s eyes brimmed with pity. “Even if Pol is able to send you back, you must not go to yer king with what you’ve learned. Believe me, I, of all people, understand how you feel. But you canna change what’s to happen. Yer no to ever tamper with the flow of what’s been. It’s Faerie law.”

So she’d explained when she’d found him reading through that
history
book of hers.

“To hell with yer Faerie laws, Cousin. I’ve no a care for the Fae. They’ve done naught but make life difficult
for all our kin. They’ve brought naught but misery as far as I can see, so I’ve no care for their foolish laws.”

“It’s not just about a Faerie law,” Ramos interrupted, his eyes fixed forward as he slowed the vehicle to a stop in front of a large house. “It’s about the reason for that law. You’ve no idea what adversity could result from your actions. Even the most well-intentioned change could have disastrous consequences down through the generations.”

Mairi nodded her agreement. “An all too real concern. But even more important, Cousin, you’ve no the right to tinker with what has already happened. It’s no yer history to be changing. History belongs to the world of Man.”

It would do no good to argue with his stubborn cousin. They’d been through this before when she’d slipped that amazing book from his hands and tucked it back into its place on the shelf.