Page 18 of Desiring the Highland Laird
Nor could he ask his father for fear he’d tell her all about the prophecy.
That settled it. He would send Roslyn and hurry.
*
As soon asCallum was gone and she was alone, Evie sprang from the bed and paced the length of the room. Her bare feet were silent on the cold stone flooring as she went back and forth, back and forth, her stomach twisted into a tight knot. Gooseflesh rose on her exposed arms, and she warded off a shiver. It was cold in the chamber. She eyed the hearth, wishing there was a fire in its place.
What had happened to her? Her mind was still foggy. If what he said was true, and she had time traveled, then how did that happen? But even he didn’t sound like he was convinced she had come from the future.
She halted and pressed her cold fingertips to her lips. The stone must have sent her here to the past.
The last thing she recalled was sprinting up the stairs in the museum and running for her life into an exhibit, then hiding behind a giant statue of a Chinese samurai. She was still holding the stone, the only thing she managed to keep with her when she fled the bathroom. Then Bruce found her and…
She sucked in a breath.
When Bruce had found her, she had swiped her thumb over the markings on the stone. As she recalled, the markings seemed to glow. When she swiped her thumb over it, the image of Dundale Castle had burst through her mind.
She glanced around the room, looking at her surroundings.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
Was she in Dundale Castle in the fourteenth century?
She rounded the bed and stopped dead in her tracks.
On the far wall was a hearth, devoid of a fire. Next to it, a chair. The memory of her dream of the guy in the chair by thefire burst through her mind. The man in her dream was Callum sitting in that chair by that hearth with a blazing fire. And she had slipped out of the bed.
She looked at the bed, examining it. Her dream was vague when it came to details of that. However, she wascertainCallum was the one from her dream sitting in the chair. She had moved to stand before him, removed her nightgown, and climbed into his lap.
Heat flooded through her at the memory. She pressed her cold hands against her cheeks. She had climbed into his lap naked. And then her mind decided to remind her about how good and solid and perfect his chest had felt beneath the palm of her hand. No, no, and no. She had to stop thinking about that.
And yet, she moved toward the chair. Her breath hitched. She reached for it, sliding her hand over the back of it. It was nothing more than a solid, wooden chair with a cushioned back and seat. Well-worn. As though someone sat in it often.
But if she was here in the past, then what happened to her sister in the future? Was she all right?
The other thing bothering her was that Bruce, her sister’s boyfriend, had tried to take the stone from her. He said it called to them. It was because of him she bashed her shins and then her chin. She reached up, running her finger over the shallow cut on her chin. It was sore. Likely she’d have a bruise by now. Glancing down at her legs, she noticed the purple and yellow marks forming.
None of that mattered, though. She’d heal. She turned her thoughts back to the stone. It had been humming when she swiped her finger over it. That coupled with the glowing markings must have sent her hurtling through time and space.
But why here? Now? What was the purpose of that?
Wasthere a purpose?
Perhaps it was merely a coincidence she ended up here in this time with Callum.
But no, that couldn’t be right. She played the exchange with the shopkeeper in the antique store—Mystic Treasures?—over and over in her mind. The shopkeeper alluded to something about her returning to her proper time. The woman had called her Sinclair, as though she knew who she was from the moment she had stepped inside the store.
That didn’t make sense, did it? She was born in the future. That’s where she belonged. Not here in the past.
She made a decision then and there. She had to get the stone back from Callum and find a way to return home. She had to get back. She had to find Chloe.
A sharp knock on the door jarred her out of her thoughts. Startled, she spun to face the door.
“Yes?”
The door opened and an older woman bustled in. She carried an armload of clothes and plopped them down on the bed, then turned to her with fisted hands on her hips. She was tall with salt and pepper hair pulled back into a loose bun. Sprigs of hair sprung out around her head. She had a kind round face and friendly blue eyes.
“Och, Callum said ye were a beauty. He wasn’t wrong.”
