Perfect Timing 2: Highland Fling Page 10

  Aye, she knew just the way to touch him…. “A lusty wench with honor.”

  She withdrew her hand from his breeches. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you something you’ll like.”

  He was perfectly happy right here. He rolled her nipple beneath two fingers. “I’ve found something I like here.”

  “Come on.” She tugged him toward the stairs to the left. “I promise you’ll enjoy this.”

  She flipped a switch and small lights lit up along the wall going up the stairs. ’Twas truly amazing that light appeared as though by magic. “We are going up there?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He reached out and swept her off her feet, holding her close to his chest. Kate laughed and looked up into his face, but he didn’t miss the heat and the flash of excitement in her green eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “I am carrying a lusty wench up yon stairs to collect my payment.” In a fortnight he’d leave her behind and either save his people or die trying. But in the time between, he’d savor every moment with this woman he’d thought he might never see again.

  “Because you’re a bold brawny Scotsman from the wild Highlands?”

  “Aye. We’re a savage lot.”

  “And you’re going to give me a Highland fling?”

  “And then some, lassie.” He reached the top of the stairs and she pointed to a doorway to the left. “In there.”

  He entered, discerning the dark outline of the bed from the stairway lights. He tossed her atop the mattress and she rolled over with a laugh. He loved to hear her laugh and he loved to know he was the one making her laugh.

  A click sounded and her bedside lantern cast light over ivory walls and a pale coverlet on her bed. “Take your clothes off, Darach. I need you naked for your surprise.”

  “You dunnae have to ask twice. I can finally…how did you phrase it…turn my big boy loose.”

  Her laugh, heated, breathy feathered over him. “There wasn’t time to argue the point. You needed to get dressed and we needed to get out of there.” She knelt on the bed and undressed. More than once he had to remind himself to quit looking and undress so they could get to what they both wanted.

  She got off the bed, took him by the hand and led him into an adjoining room. “This is the bathroom.”

  Once again, as before, the room was lit. Stone-colored tile covered the floor and was cool beneath his bare feet. A large looking-glass reflected both the light and their image. A basin sat in the midst of a marble slab on one wall. A seat that appeared to be a cross between a chamber pot and a throne stood in one corner. A large tub, he assumed for washing, took up one short wall.

  She turned him to look behind them. “And this—” she opened a glass door and tugged on a large button and a smaller one beneath it and water flowed through two devices coming out of the mirrored wall “—this is a hot shower.”

  She stepped inside. “Come on in. The water’s fine.”

  He did her bidding. Warm water sluiced over him in a truly decadent pleasure. He sighed. “Aye. ’Tis like standing beneath a waterfall on a warm day—only better because even on a warm day, the burn runs cold.”

  “The previous owners were apparently shower enthusiasts. Most aren’t this large.” Water darkened her hair from flaxen to brown. Her skin gleamed alabaster with the water’s sheen. “For the first part of my payment, I thought I’d bathe you.”

  Standing beneath the water was pleasure in itself. Add to that her hands on his skin. “You’ll get no argument from me.”

  “I’ll start with your hair.” She picked up a bottle and eyed the shelf that formed a bench on one end of the enclosure. “And I think this will work nicely.” She stood up on the tile seat. “Voilà.”

  Her perch brought her lovely breasts to mouth level. He grasped her at her waist, her skin soft and wet and warm beneath his hands. “Aye, this is grand,” he said. He leaned forward and captured one perfect tip in his mouth.

  “Darach…” She leaned forward, into him.

  He suckled and the bud tightened against his tongue. He slid his hands up her water-kissed skin, over her middle to cup her globes, one in each hand. He moved his attention to the other one, sucking and licking until it too pebbled with need and Kate’s sighs echoed off the tile and glass wall. Ah, this was one of the finer things in life, the dual sensations of warm water coursing over his shoulders and down his back, her breasts in his hands and mouth.

  She pulled back. “If you keep that up, my legs are going to be too weak to hold me up.”

  He grinned. “Sorry, Katie-love, it’s just that with temptation staring me in the face….” He flicked his tongue against one of her pink pearls.

  “Then let’s put temptation out of reach.” She turned him around to face the mirrored wall and torrent of water.

  “I would much rather be looking at your teats than at myself.”

  “Hush.” She laughed and slapped him on his arse.

  For one second he was stunned and then he laughed. “God’s tooth you are bold, lass. Nary a man nor woman has slapped me on me arse since my Da when I was but a lad.”

  She smiled, full of sexy sass, over his shoulder at him in the mirror. “Then it’s long overdue.”

  He pretended to scowl at her reflection. “Aye, you’ve fire enough when my back is turned.”

  Had he ever made light with a lass this way? Nay. He’d never been so inclined.

  Kate buried her fingers in his wet hair and began to work in fragrant soap that smelled faintly familiar. It was her scent, the scent that clung to her skin and hair, the scent that heated him through. She rubbed and kneaded from the front of his head to the back and along his neck. Darach groaned aloud from the pleasure of her fingers dancing against his scalp. “Ah, you’ve a magic touch, Katie-love.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  He more than liked it. The warm water and the rhythm of her hands against his scalp and on his shoulders lulled him. Yet in another part of him, her scent and her touch and her very nearness fueled his want for her and hardened his rod.

  She kneaded and plied her hands along his arms. She stepped down from the bench and continued stroking his muscles down the length of his back. She worked her hands over his buttocks and the backs of his legs. The saucy wench reached between his legs and cupped his heavy sac and he shuddered at her touch. She stroked his member with her soap-slicked hands, rousing the interest of his rod.

  “Mayhap we can run into another harridan of your acquaintance so I can once again earn your indebtedness. I’ve a definite liking for your payment.”

  She stroked him again and his cock surged in her hand. “I think that is a fine plan.” She reached around him and smoothed her hands over his belly and up his chest, her bare breasts with their tight points pressing against his back. “You are without a doubt, the most perfect specimen of a man I’ve ever seen.”

  He knew women looked at him and the women he’d bedded had been free with their flattery. But there’d always been the knowledge, in the back of his mind, that he was their laird and as such, they had a stake in flattering him. But he was no laird to Katie.

  He looked over his shoulder with an uncharacteristic self-consciousness. “Ye have obviously forgotten about my scar and my nose.”

  She traced the scar’s path with one finger. “No. I haven’t forgotten it at all. I think it’s a mark of courage and honor.” She turned him to face her and tilted his head back beneath the stream of warm water, rinsing the soap from his hair. “And what’s wrong with your nose?”

  “’Tis more of a beak than a nose.” At least that had been his brothers’ take on it when they were lads.

  She cupped his jaw in her hand and peered at him, head cocked to one side. “It’s strong, like you. I can’t imagine your face with anything different. You’d look silly with anything less. As it stands now, you’re gorgeous and extremely sexy.”

  Her words pleased him, warmed him, in a way that had nothing to do with sex. “Katie-l
ove, you’re a bit of a daft lass.” He teased her to cover how much her words pleased him, but there wasn’t much that got by Katie. Her eyes held a knowing look.

  “Then I’m in good company ’cause you’re one daft Scotsman.”

  He popped her on her arse. “’Tis bold and brawny, not daft.”

  She gasped and pretended outrage. “You’re pushing your luck, Scotsman.”

  He hadn’t made light like this since the day he’d traded his family and his childhood to the Campbells for the promise of a few more minutes of fun. Aye, his heart had not been this light since.

  With a start he realized he’d thought of that time without a blackness settling over his soul. Did she but know it, Kate was a true healer, of not just body, but mind and soul as well.

  He shifted closer and caught her up to him, savoring the slide of her wet skin against his. He pressed a kiss to her mouth, his tongue finding and toying with hers. He cupped her arse in his hands and pulled her tighter and harder against him, his cock unerringly finding the curls between her thighs. She wrapped her arms about his neck and pressed against him. With her bottom in his hands, he slid one finger against her slit. Ah, she was wet. Not the wet of streaming water, but the slicker, hotter wet borne of want. He eased a finger into her and she ground down on it, making small noises of pleasure.

  “When I first saw your portrait at the museum it…affected me. I was more aroused by you in a picture than I had ever been by a man in real life. Every time I came home from the museum, a terrible lust came with me. But not just for any man. For you.” She spoke the truth. She was wet and hot and slick against his finger. “One of my favorite fantasies about us was in here.”

  She scattered kisses along his jaw and to his ear. Her tongue teased his ear’s edge and heat rushed through him. She edged away from his cock, replacing her mound with her hand. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked while she swirled her tongue about his nipple.

  Was there anything more potent to a man’s libido than a woman whispering in his ear how much she’d wanted him before she’d even met him? He was more than willing to participate in whatever it was she’d created in her mind.

  “And what would that be Katie-love?” He captured a drop of water on her shoulder with his tongue. “Tell me how to make your fantasy come true.”

  “In my fantasy, you sit here.”

  He sank onto the warm, wet tile that formed a seat.

  “And I just need to make a bit of an adjustment here.” She turned off the upper shower and adjusted the lower so that what had been a gentle shower now shot out in a steady, pulsing stream. Facing the mirrored wall afforded him a bonnie view.

  Darach expected Katie to mount him and he’d watch in the mirror as she rode him. Instead, she braced her hands on either side of his hips and leaned forward. She stood with her feet braced apart and leaned forward from the hips, offering him a most arousing view of her backside compliments of the mirror. She teased his nipple with the tip of her tongue. Darach dropped his head back against the tiled wall as the sensation of her flirting tongue against his hard nub shot straight to his groin.

  She worked her way down, scattering kisses along his belly. God’s tooth, was she going to do what he thought she was?

  She swirled her tongue along his knob and teased at the slit with the tip of her tongue. “Aye, yes….”

  Katie paused and looked up at him with a wicked smile that further tightened his bollocks. “After the trauma of being confined in underwear for all of an hour, I think your big boy needs some special care and attention.” She pressed a kiss to his tip.

  Yes! He was very willing to play his part in her fantasy so far. Darach nodded. “Aye. He suffered. He’s in desperate need.”

  “So, I see.” She licked from the base to the tip and then rimmed her lips back down to his root. She worked her tongue and mouth around his sac before moving back up to his tip.

  Her mouth, warm and slick and tight around his rod, embraced him. When she lowered her mouth over him, she hiked her bottom into the air, offering him a reflected view of her pink paradise and opening herself to the stream of water. She slid her mouth up and down, sucking and lapping. And the water massaged her.

  Heat exploded in him and rendered his breath ragged. It was the most arousing thing he’d ever experienced, her hot mouth wrapped around him while the mirror reflected the water pulsing against her lovely glistening folds.

  While he could still think with enough coherence to speak, he said, “Aye, Katie-love, I’ve a definite interest in hearing about all your fantasies.”

  11

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, her hair still damp from the shower, Kate almost pinched herself. Instead, she glanced across her kitchen. Yes. The laird of Glenagan sat on a bar stool while she whipped up a quick meal after great shower sex.

  “I think it’s almost ready,” she said. The slab of thick cheddar oozed past the edge of the bread and sizzled on the griddle. Perfect.

  “It smells good,” Darach said

  She transferred two grilled-cheese sandwiches onto a plate and poured a cup of tomato soup. She placed both on the counter before him. “It’s not gourmet by any means, but it’s hot.”

  She served herself and slid onto the leather bar stool next to him. “Go ahead and eat.”

  Darach bit into the sandwich. “Hmm. It tastes even better than it smells.”

  She smiled. “It’s pretty good but I think shoe leather might taste good to you about now.”

  Now that she was back in her world and not worried about being stuck in Merry Olde Scotland, she was much less uptight.

  Kate wouldn’t have been surprised if an awkwardness had settled between them. Instead they enjoyed a companionable silence while they ate. Even though they would’ve looked like quite the odd couple to anyone looking in—he with his long dark hair and his kilt, she with her short hair and silk pajamas—there was something about traveling two-hundred and sixty-one years with someone in the blink of an eye that forged a bond.

  She knew she could fire up her laptop, log on and within minutes details about the Battle of Culloden would appear on the screen. Internet research hovered two clicks away. But not tonight. It had been an incredible day, or couple of days depending on which time continuum she wanted to adhere to, and tomorrow was soon enough. Any information they’d find tonight would still be there tomorrow and she very selfishly wanted this evening without the specter of the future hanging over it.

  Darach pointed past her to the reading nook she’d set up in lieu of a dining room table. “Is that woman in the portrait your mother? You look like her.”

  She turned to the photograph and a familiar sadness welled inside her. “Yes. That’s my mom.” His comment surprised her. “Do you really think I look like her?” With her dark hair and laughing green eyes, she seemed to smile right at Kate. “I always thought she was beautiful.”

  “You are both beautiful. You have the same nose. You both smile with your eyes in the same manner, and you hold your head at that same angle.”

  His words brought a sense of comfort and she smiled despite the melancholy that ate at her soul. “You would have liked her. Everyone liked her.” Kate stood. “She was a remarkable woman. She died a few years ago.”

  Compassion softened the harsh lines of his face. “What happened?”

  Kate rounded the counter and gathered the dishes. “She had breast cancer. They caught it early and we thought she’d beat it, but it came back.” She rinsed the plates and bowls and stacked them in the dishwasher.

  “What is this breast cancer?”

  Oh, yeah, he wouldn’t be up to speed on modern health issues. Cancer, named and identified, wasn’t part of his world. “Everyone’s body is made up of cells. The cells unite to form skin, tissue, organs, blood. When all the cells are healthy and doing their thing, the body is in good shape. But sometimes, and we don’t exactly know why, the cells begin to mutate. The mutated cells begin to destroy the good cells. Sometim
es we can stop the bad cells and sometimes we can’t. We’ve already learned so much and every day we come a little closer to a cure. A cancer diagnosis used to be a death sentence and sometimes it still is, but increasingly it’s become more of a matter of managing a chronic—” would he know what chronic meant? “—ongoing illness. You would know it as a wasting disease. The body wastes away and the person suffers great pain before they die.” She wiped down the counter, not wanting to remember what her mother had been like at the end.

  “Aye. I have seen something very similar in old Hattie in the village. Was your mother in great pain?”

  “Enough. Even at the end, though, she was more concerned about me than about herself. She worried about leaving me. It’s terrible to be a doctor and not be able to do anything to save the person you love the most.”

  “Aye.” He didn’t have to say more. She knew he was intimately acquainted with the pain of standing by helpless and watching a loved one die. “This cancer. Does it spread from person to person?”

  “No, it’s not contagious. Certain types of cancer have hereditary factors. My grandmother died of breast cancer, then my mother. I’m checked each year because I have a higher risk because of both of them.”

  A dark frown knit his brows together. “So, you could have this terrible cancer? And your children?”

  She knew he was thinking of that broken condom and the very real possibility she could be pregnant. “I could. And yes, it would be a factor if I ever had a daughter, but it’s not something to dwell on.” She shrugged. “I could also be hit by a car the next time I’m crossing the street. I have regular check-ups. I take care of myself. Other than that, there’s nothing more to do than go on with my life.”

  “Do you have brothers and sisters? What about your father?”

  “I’m an only child. I was just a baby when my father died. He was a doctor, too. He was part of a relief team flying into Turkey after an earthquake. His plane crashed into a mountain.” She’d always wished for even a vague memory of the serious man she only knew from photographs. “All my life it was just me and my mother.”