Page 3 of Her Scot of Bygones
At least not if I could help it.
Now, having arrived in the twenty-first century, I stood in front of the colonial I’d visited a time or two in the past, surprised to find the old oak tree out front replaced with a towering willow.
And that could only mean one thing. I was here for Aspen’s sister, Willow.
Or so I assumed if Broderick and Aspen’s adventure was any indication, since her tree played a pivotal role in bringing them together.
The moon's position told me it was late, and the single vehicle in the dirt driveway assured me only one sister was here, which would make things easier. So, I headed for the front door, only for something to hit me on my shoulder. Frowning, I crouched and picked up some kind of nut that wouldn’t have come from a willow tree, unless an animal had dropped it from above. Tossing it aside, I continued heading for the front door, only to get pelted again.
“Bloody hell,” I cursed under my breath as more and more nuts fell the closer I got to the door.
It seemed I wasn’t dealing with a forest animal after all.
Not about to be dissuaded by what could be protective magic, I veered away from the front door and out of the tree’s reach, determined to go around the house and in through theback door. That’s what I had intended to do, anyway, until the dying embers on the hearth just beyond one of the living room windows caught my attention.
Better still, the beautiful woman who slept on the nearby sofa.
“Willow,” I murmured, having been eager to know her name. To finally say it out loud, however softly. But more than that, I was desperate to finally feast my eyes on the lass whose voice had haunted my dreams since childhood. Although dark, I could make out her delicate ivory features and see the soft crimson locks framing her face. See her plush, heart-shaped mouth as she talked in her sleep.
As she appeared to stir at the sound of my voice.
Understanding how crucial it was to get her out of here, knowing time was of the essence, I unlocked the window with a chant and climbed in rather than wasting time using the back door. I entered silently and, for a heartbeat of a moment, hovered over her. While I longed to gaze into her eyes for the first time and finally hear her voice, it was too risky to linger and explain my actions, so when her eyes began fluttering, I chanted her into a deep sleep and scooped her up.
Regrettably, I hadn’t considered what it would feel like to touch her for the first time, let alone inhale her sweet, flowery scent, and it nearly dropped me to my knees. She was light in my arms, and her scent so delicious I inhaled deeply and wished I hadn’t because it made me want to lay her back down and enjoy every last inch of her. To savor her taste because I knew it would be designed just for me.Madefor me.
Yet when I felt her thoughts brush mine and her body tensed with alarm despite the spell she was under, I knew better than to linger, especially if she meant to fight me from stealing her away. If, God forbid, she denied me from keeping her safe untilthe Sutherlands realized she was mine and not theirs. So I gently draped her over my shoulder, leaving my hands free, and left.
Fortunately, the willow no longer threw nuts when I exited the front door, and I returned to the tree without issue. Resting my hand against the trunk because it was a gateway to the past, I chanted again to return to what those in this era would call fourteenth-century Scotland.
Although I loathed doing it, I severed telepathic communication with my kin, repositioned Willow in my arms, so she wasn’t over my shoulder anymore, and made my way through the woodland into a cave that would lead us to a lair my family knew nothing about. A place my inner dragon had created years ago. I never understood why I felt the need to keep it a secret until I met Aspen and sensed Willow through her.
Now I understood.
It would help me keep my fated mate safe.
“Safe?”a soft-sounding voice exclaimed inside my mind.“I’m the furthest thing from safe!”
I slowed in the dark tunnel, seen clearly through my dragon sight, and frowned, trying to make sense of her fear and anger, not to mention deal with my inner beast’s response to it, because it wasn’t good. My dragon was wounded from a few uttered internal words, and I couldn’t blame it because it felt like she had shunned us already. Yet clearly, she was connected to us. Otherwise, there would have been no way for her to push past our spell to communicate.
Though tempted to respond, it was best not to until we were safely in my lair, lest my voice stir her awake even more and take the chance that either Aspen or my kin could sense her. So I kept my mind quiet, pleased when it seemed to have the effect I had hoped for because she went silent as well.
Too silent, I realized, after crossing the threshold into my lair.
I was surprised when I realized she was fully aware of me from within the spell and was paying attention to every little detail so she could try to escape when it finally lifted. I sensed her concern because, for one, she was no fighter, and two, she had drunk a little too much whisky. Her thoughts brushed my mind and gave her away. She was trying to figure out how to flee from me, and wondering just how much the whisky would affect her motor skills when she tried.
Unsure what to do with that information, I figured the best course of action was to lay her on my bed and hope catching more of my scent would help her realize who I was, because surely her inner beast must sense I was destined for her. Either that or I could keep her right where she was in my arms, effectively ceasing whatever she might plan with, if nothing else, calming words, and mayhap even a kiss if I got that lucky.
However tempting the latter, I sensed it would be too much too soon, and she would not respond well. I wasn’t clear on what that meant, given she felt she could not defend herself, but there was no need to upset her any more than necessary, so I opted to put her in my bed.
Then I did my best not to stare at her, but it proved impossible.
She truly was stunning. I could see that now, after I lit several wall torches and a small fire, only for its soft, flickering glow to highlight the various shades of red in her thick, satiny hair. It appeared to be partially tied up as if it had loosened in her sleep, making me wonder what it would look like unbound around her slender shoulders and the lush curves of her body. What I could see of them, anyway, under her loose-fitting clothes and frilly apron.
I narrowed my eyes, wondering why she wore such a thing. Was she a servant in her era? Perhaps a chambermaid of some sort?
“Cook,”I swore she whispered through my mind in frustration, before I sensed rather than saw her stirring awake sooner than expected.
“Ah,” I murmured, feeling her growing awareness of me as she roused awake but pretended to be asleep. She was assessing what she could of her surroundings without opening her eyes. “You dinnae look like any cook I have ever seen.”
