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Authors: Maeve Greyson

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BOOK: Beyond A Highland Whisper
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Gabriel barbed the MacKays with a smirk of victory as his self-satisfied laughter rumbled deep from within his chest. “Then tomorrow night, ye must allow me to cook ye a private dinner. I guarantee I’ll fix ye something a great deal more tempting then a simple shepherd’s pie.” Gabriel tossed the fork upon the dessert plate and slid it to the center of the table.

“Well, I don’t know,” Nessa hedged, sidling a glance over at Trish for moral support. There was just something about Gabriel Burns that set off her warning bells.

Trish kicked Nessa’s ankle under the table and gave her a determined best friend look. Her eyes snapped as she mouthed the words,
Are you kidding me? Go for it.

Trish pulled a notepad from her purse, jotted down an address, and tossed it across the table to Gabriel. “Forgive her, Gabriel. She’s a bit off her game tonight because it’s been a while since she’s taken the time to forget about work for longer than two minutes at a time. Once you get to know her, you’ll find out she’s great. Here’s the address of the inn where we’re staying and that’s the number to the phone in Nessa’s room.”

Gabriel smiled and accepted Trish’s peace offering with a gracious bow of his head. Folding the paper and placing it in his pocket, his smile widened as he rose from his seat. “Until tomorrow night then, my dear, sweet Nessa. I’ll pick ye up around eight. How will that be?”

“That’ll be fine.” Nessa kicked back at her beaming friend beneath the table. Trish had never known when to butt out when it came to fixing her up with men and apparently tonight wasn’t going to be any different.

“Please excuse me. I must tend to my business though I’d much rather stay with present company. Brodie, Fiona…’twas good to see ye again. I’ll be taking care of both these tabs tonight.”

Edging his way around the table, Gabriel rested his hand on Nessa’s shoulder. As he spoke, his fingertips caressed the skin at the nape of her neck, and he allowed them to tarry just a little bit longer than necessary.

Trish whistled under her breath as she watched Gabriel prowl across the room. “You’ve hit the jackpot with that one for sure. Let’s see your dream Highlander compare with that Irishman!”

“Her dream Highlander?” Brodie’s expression perked as he looked between the two women.

Nessa kicked Trish under the table again. Time to go. Trish had hit her loose-lipped limit with the alcohol and was starting to spout personal stuff. “Never mind. It’s just an inside joke and Trish has had way too much ale.” Rising to her feet, Nessa grabbed her friend by the sleeve and pulled her toward the door. “Come on, Trish. It’s getting late. We’ve got to let Brodie and Fiona get home.”

“Fine.” Trish snorted with a roll of her eyes. “It was nice seeing you both again. We’ll drop by your shop one of these days. We both really liked the purple night-light.”

Fiona choked on a sip of her ale. She sputtered and coughed as Brodie pounded away on her back. “The purple night-light?” Fiona gasped and struggled for air. Her eyes filled with tears and she dabbed at them with a napkin she’d grabbed from the table.

Nessa nodded as she navigated between the extra chairs crowded around the table. “You know. The one that nearly rattled off the shelf when we shut the door? The one that looks like a crystal ball?” She paused, waiting for the MacKays to realize the object she was talking about. Nessa shifted her bag to the opposite shoulder before following Trish toward the door.

Brodie continued patting Fiona as a look of realization dawned across his face. “Oh aye…the purple night-light. We know what ye’re talking about now. We’ve had it so long, we rarely think about the thing even being in our shop. We hardly remember to dust it.” Brodie waved with one hand as he babbled away and rubbed at Fiona’s back. “Be sure and stop by and visit us soon. Perhaps we’ll tell ye a bit of the history behind the purple globe. I’m sure ye’d find it truly amazing. Especially since ye have a penchant for the past.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

Latharn heard the key turn in the lock. It was about time they opened the shop. They were late this morning. They had promised him the search for Nessa would begin today. He had warned them his patience was all but gone. Where in the hell had they been?

Latharn tensed as he peered through his curved glass walls. Brodie’s downcast face displeased him. He concentrated a bit harder, focusing on Brodie’s aura. The hue did not bode well.

Brodie tossed his keys as he walked through the door. He grimaced as they landed with a crash on top of the counter. The metallic jangle shattered the morning silence of the shop.

Fiona entered right behind him. She went around flipping on the lights and opened the shutters to the morning sun.

Latharn studied Fiona’s aura and his mood darkened. Brodie and Fiona both were troubled. What had happened between yesterday and today that had stirred their auras into such a miserable shade?

“Do ye think he’s awake?” Brodie motioned toward the globe behind the counter, his voice a cautious whisper.

Latharn released his aura and rumbled it forth, reflecting the purple light of his essence off the plaster of the white-washed walls. “I am always awake and your emotions are telling me that your news does not bode well.” High upon its shelf, the crystal trembled as Latharn’s wariness filled the air. “What happened with you two last night? What has both of you so troubled?”

Fiona edged closer to Brodie. She shook her head as she mouthed the words,
Don’t tell him.

“Fiona, my dear, sweet lass. It might do well for ye to bear in mind that although ye cannot see within my prison, I have no trouble whatsoever when it comes to seeing you…and I am also quite adept at reading lips.”

Latharn swallowed against the anger rising in his chest; he clenched his fists at his sides. He struggled to control his emotions when he projected his voice outside the sphere. The light from the orb pulsated faster as his irritation fueled the beams from the witch’s ball. “Now what exactly is it that Brodie is not supposed to tell me? And might I remind ye of my patience growing thin?”

“We found your Nessa,” Brodie interrupted. “We had dinner with her and Trish at a pub in town last night.”

“My Nessa.”

At the sound of her name, Latharn’s entire body relaxed. The thought of her was like a tonic to his being. When his tension eased, he reduced his aura to a contented purr. The hard shafts of lasers merged into a serene purple haze. “Ye have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear someone speak as though she was already mine. Someone other than myself, since in my heart, she’s belonged to me since the moment I first found her.”

Brodie and Fiona exhaled in obvious relief as they approached the shelf. Fiona almost whispered as she settled the orb on the counter. She stroked the glass as she spoke. “She seems verra nice. But I have to say, she doesna appear too comfortable around men. It’s as if she thinks herself too plain for them to notice her. The lass is quite fetching but she acts as though she thinks herself a part of the furniture.”

Latharn pounded his fists against the walls of his prison. What had Fiona said? His fury filled the orb with a surge of power that blasted throughout the room. The energy made Fiona and Brodie squint as cutting beams shot from the core of the globe.

“What man has she been around? What are ye trying to keep from me? She is mine now that she is on my land. No one will take what is mine!”

Brodie shot Fiona a reproving glare as he shielded his face and approached the globe. As he centered it in the middle of the counter, he held up his hands as he explained. “We met with Nessa and her friend in a pub in Durness. It was nice. We had a verra nice visit.”

Stomping around the circumference of his cell, Latharn pounded his fists against the glass again. Did they think him daft? Six centuries imprisoned inside this damned sphere didn’t mean he couldn’t follow a simple conversation! The power of his fury ripped through the globe. His energy pulsated through the room. Dishes trembled and rattled on the shelves. Latharn’s rage shook the building. His tone grew fiercer. Latharn repeated his words, his voice rumbling from the globe like thunder. “Ye already said that, Brodie. Do ye think me a simple fool? What are ye trying to keep from me? Your unease is drowning out your words.” Thunder rumbled in the distance. Latharn paced the confines of his prison. They’d best be talking. He was ready to call up a maelstrom.

With a nervous pat to Brodie’s arm, Fiona silenced him as she stepped closer to the counter. “The owner of the pub is Gabriel Burns. He seemed quite interested in getting to know Nessa better. They’re supposed to be having dinner tonight. But rest assured, Latharn. Your Nessa didna seem all that enthused to be going out with the wicked man.”

Latharn jostled the witch’s ball in its stand as though an earthquake shook the room. He fueled blinding white light from the center of the crystal and ricocheted lasers off the walls.

Latharn roared with uncontrollable rage. His fury crackled in the air. “I will kill the bastard if he dares to touch her! No man takes what is mine. I have been waiting for centuries for her to come to me.” Latharn stormed around the circumference of the sphere. This crystal hell had never seemed so small. He’d never been this close to the edge of madness before. Nessa belonged to
him
.

Fiona ducked her head from the energy blasts bursting through the air. She shielded her eyes as she attempted to reason with him. “Latharn, ye said ye’ve been watching her since she was born. Are ye saying ye have never seen her with…seen her when she was… Surely, ye canna believe she’s never been with a man. Latharn, ye do realize she’s quite a bit older then a newly blossomed young maid.”

He allowed the blinding lights to fade from the room. The swirling glass shimmered to a weak flicker as Latharn moaned. “I know she’s no’ a virgin. I witnessed her seeking love and comfort at the hands of selfish, clumsy fools. I didna want to watch,” Latharn choked out in a hoarse whisper. “…but I couldna bear to turn away.”

A look of sadness settled across Fiona’s face as she rested her palm against the dark surface of the ball. “It must have been torture for ye, Latharn, to watch Nessa lay in the arms of another. But that doesn’t mean Nessa willna be able to love ye. In fact, it will make her love ye even more.”

How could he make them understand? Latharn waved the globe into deeper darkness and reduced the light to a sorrowful flicker. His voice echoed with emotion as he struggled to explain his pain. “I had wished to be the one to teach her the pleasures of love. But it just wasn’t to be. I understand her trying to find an end to her loneliness. I could no’ very well expect her to wait until she realized I was real and could be with her upon this plane. I could never be sure that would ever happen…no matter how often I nudged her subconscious mind. But ye canna imagine the ache of watching the one ye love search for what only you should be able to give them.” Latharn crouched at the base of the globe, cradling his head in his hands.

Brodie rubbed his chin and smiled. “Apparently, ye have affected her more than ye might think. Her friend mentioned something about how Gabriel might compare to the Highlander in her dreams.”

Latharn rose and increased the light of the globe, allowing the purple aura to dance about the room once more. The light waves pulsed with his voice as his presence filled the room.

“Now that Nessa is on the soil of my homeland, now that her given name has been spoken aloud upon MacKay land, she will find I’m not restricted to merely appearing in her dreams. This man had best be wary of going anywhere near my woman.”

Fiona stepped forward. Chewing on her bottom lip, she wrung her hands as she spoke. “Ye must be careful, Cousin. Nessa may be accustomed to history and artifacts but I doubt verra much if she’s used to the wrath of a six-hundred-year-old Highlander gifted with magic. Ye don’t want to scare the lass back across the Atlantic by striking Gabriel Burns down with one of your spells.”

“Brodie.” Latharn’s voice fell deadly quiet. He infused his simmering emotions into every word. “Didn’t your wife once think herself in love with this Gabriel? Weren’t they even betrothed to each other at one time?”

BOOK: Beyond A Highland Whisper
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