CursedLaird (11 page)

Focus, she ordered. Focus on helping him understand his new
life. Thankfully, he dressed, helping her if only a smidgeon of an ounce to
maintain her dignity and not pounce on him and fuck him right there. The one
thing in her favor was the sound of fishermen around the loch, making ready to
set sail for the day, echoing on the early-morning breeze. Knowing the sun’s
rays would soon break helped keep her clothes on and her raging libido
controlled, if only for the moment. She definitely didn’t want the whole
fishing community to see her butt-arse naked, frolicking with a man on the
dock. In a small village such as this, it would be the talk of the century.

“You like to swim?”

Caledonia waited for his response to her question. Did he or
didn’t he?

“Aye,” he finally replied, tugged on one of his boots and
slipped something she didn’t quite see well into it. A knife perhaps? “I love a
good swim every now and again. It refreshes the soul.”

Refreshes the soul. Had she heard him right? Yeah, she did.
Caledonia smiled. A man who liked water, unlike Kip who only used it for the
hidden treasures he sold to line his pockets.

“I noticed you dove under. How far can you go on a single
breath?” She tried not to let her excitement show in her voice, but she knew
from his partial smile he picked up on it.

“Not as far as I would like,” he replied as he looked out
over the loch and slung his claymore in place. “The water calls to mi. I have
always enjoyed the pleasure it provides mi soul.”

“Would you like to reach the bottom?”

His brows bunched. “Not possible. It is endless.”

“Nay.” Caledonia shook her head as she smiled. “It is not.
That is where I found you.” She pointed in the direction of his former grave.
“With the proper diving equipment and training, reaching the bottom of the loch
is possible.”

His face grew solemn and his eyes held a lost appeal. “Ye
found mi on the bottom o’ Loch Tay?”

Caledonia stood beside him and laid her hand upon his
shoulder in comfort. “Aye. It wasn’t how Mary meant for you to be hidden. I’m
guessing she knew of your love for the water. They built a special boat in the
shape of a floating crannog, chained it in the center of the standing remains
of four crannogs and set you to float in the safety of this sanctuary. No one
could reach you before being spotted by the castle’s watchtower guards. In
Mary’s words, it was the perfect hiding place.”

She took a moment and let that sink in before she began
again. “The summer before Mary’s death, a storm of tremendous force ripped
through the area. It destroyed much of the surrounding village and caused the
weakened structures of the crannogs to sink. The weight of the crannogs dragged
your boat to the bottom. There was no saving you.”

Cupping his chin, she turned his gaze to meet hers. An
unreadable look lingered in his eyes. Was he angry? Saddened? She couldn’t be
sure. “Mary never meant for you to sink to the bottom of Loch Tay. She simply
hid you where she thought you’d most want to be. Near the water.”

“Aye,” he stated in a heavy, disheartened tone. “Nature
granted mi wish though mi eyes were cursed and could not enjoy the beauty o’
what lay deep beneath its surface.”

He stepped away from her and returned his stare to the
water. Caledonia refused to let it go. Her heart brimmed with the need to help
him, to make him understand that she could and would make that wish come true
for him.

“If you’re willing to learn, I’m willing to teach you. I’ve
been to the bottom of Loch Tay many times.”

“How has a wee lass such as yourself been to the bottom?”

She ignored the scoff in his tone. Her eyebrow arched and
she smiled. “If I didn’t reach the bottom, how did you return to the surface?”

His mouth opened then shut and she knew he had no clue.
“Come with me,” Caledonia said as she turned and headed for the shed. “I’ll
show you the magic of my world and if you’re a good lad…” She shot him a
naughty look across her shoulder. “I’ll teach you how to dive and you too can
reach the bottom.”

She continued walking and hoped he followed. By the time she
reached the doors, he was right behind her. They entered the dive shed just as
the first rays of morning sun cracked the sky.

A tingle sizzled down her spine. The hairs on her arms and
the back of her neck stood on end. A sudden burst of heat shot across her back
and she was afraid to look. Oh god, she’d forgotten the last words of the
anti-curse until that very moment.

Stone by day. Man by night.

Her legs knotted, not letting her turn until she forced them
to work. Slowly she moved, hoping with every millisecond that passed, she was
wrong. Her heart sank at the sight and her lungs refused to function.

Struan stood at full height, legs slightly apart, hair hung
loosely down his back and across his shoulder and his arms were at his sides.
Not the same position in which they found him. How was she going to explain
this when the O’Reillys returned? And most of all, how was she going to get him
home in this condition?

Chapter Six

One moment he followed the beautiful and voluptuous Caledonia
and the next he’d been recaptured. Darkness surrounded him within a split
second of fiery pain and a molten-hot series of spears shot through his body.
Och
,
had he been cursed again? No witch’s words reached his ears prior to being
taken prisoner. Simply a change in the time. Night gave way to day. He saw and
heard nothing that garnered his imprisonment. It must have been some form of a
sneak attack, from behind or hidden within the shadows of the shed.

Not certain where he was or how this happened, Struan
attempted to move. No part of his being followed his internal commands.
Arm
lift, draw thy sword
, he shouted mentally. But nothing happened.
Eyes
open
, he demanded. They also failed to respond. Though he tried, his lungs
required no breath. Did his heart beat? Aye, he felt certain it did, even if he
had no true means to test it.

Inwardly he struggled to free himself until his mind became
exhausted. Madness threatened to rule his thoughts. Trapped with no means of
escape. How had this happened? Why? Had Mary not said two of his
brathairs
were free? Then why not him? What had he done to fall twice to this curse?

Struan drew upon his faith to soothe his angst. Love for
family, pride, honor and a renewed vigor for life combined within his soul,
washing over him with a sense of inner peace. There had to be a way to escape.
It happened once. It would happen again. Of this he felt certain. Caledonia
would see to it.

Caledonia.
Though guilt laced his thoughts, her image
filled his mind’s eye. Long, dark tresses flowed freely across her shoulders to
her waist. Naked, she stood before him. A vision of pure woman ripened to
perfection and ready to be plucked by the right man. Was he that man? If his
face would obey, a smile would have stretched his lips. Between strands of
silken hair, nipples peeked out, beckoning his mouth to sample.

He knew he shouldn’t think like this, but his mind refused
to listen.
Och
, how he wished he could move. If he could move, then
maybe he could redirect his line of thought to something less stimulating. Try
as he might, no other images prevailed.

The scent of rose haunted his memory, bringing Caledonia
even more to life in his head. He hungered to taste her lips, her skin, those
pert nipples. Caledonia’s breasts filled his hands, heavy yet soft and pliable
with plump, teaseable nipples. He knew his mouth would water if it could. Damn,
he hated being trapped.

Pressure threatened to crush him. Darkness kept him
encapsulated in its dismal folds. No escape. No way out. Struan dug deep for
the strength to curtail this sudden rush o’ panic. Refusing to let the walls
close in on him, he tried to redirect his focus on something to calm his
nerves. Caledonia’s image reappeared. That last sight o’ her walking in front
o’ him, the gentle sway o’ those full hips, ignited his lust as if it were a
match and he the wick.

Och
, it killed him that he could not react to the
images inside his head or stop them.

An idea shot from the back of his brain like a fast-flying
arrow. Pleasing her—if only in his head—would keep him occupied to distraction
until the path to escape made itself clear.
A winning strategy worked best
when not over-planned. Relax, watch and listen, all shall reveal itself in
time.
His
brathair
Gavin’s words resurfaced to the forefront and
gave him the added boost in confidence needed. How many times had his
brathair
’s
straightforward, clear-cut wisdom guided him in the right direction? Too many
to count. Struan inwardly laughed.

Hopefully madness would not consume him before Caledonia
found a way to release him again. Struan willed peace to settle in his soul and
let Caledonia’s beautiful image soothe his angst. He focused on her face and
issued a mental prayer.

Save mi, Caledonia. Set mi free.

* * * * *

By noon, they had a plan in place. Fin and Aileen Kavanagh
took the trawler and headed north to Balloch Castle where they used a small
forklift to move heavy materials for the hotel. Fin called in a favor in order
to borrow it. Caledonia promised she’d get some rest while they were gone.
She’d been up all night with Struan and well into the morning pacing, waiting
on the O’Reillys to return.

God, what was keeping them? Hangovers. She’d bet the boat on
it. As she waved to Momma and Poppa as they pulled away from the dock,
exhaustion threatened to make her collapse where she stood. Something made her
double-check the locks on the shed. Struan was safe. No one would harm him
here.

Tired legs carried her to the house. She didn’t have the
strength to tackle the hike upstairs to her bedroom. Instead, she curled up on
the soft, comfy sofa in the family room. Tabby’s kittens followed her and
settled on the rug beside the couch. Except for one—the only male in the
litter. The gray one with the jet-black stripe down his back refused to leave
her alone until she lifted him onto the couch with her.

“I think I’ll call you Streak,” Caledonia whispered against
his fur as the kitten snuggled close. Sunlight warmed her face and lulled her
into a tranquil state of rest. Nothing could have roused her from the dream of
diving the loch with a hot Scottish laird.

Eyelids fluttered with images of Struan donning a neoprene
body suit for diving. He smiled at her as they did the final check before
tumbling off the rail of the
Marcail Struana
and into Loch Tay. Joy and
wonderment rippled off him in waves as they descended. It filled her heart to
share this with him, the love of the dive, the exploration of the unknown.
Watching him dive as if it were second nature sent a thrill to her core.
Together, they blossomed in the peacefulness of the underworld.

Thigh brushed thigh. Arm touched arm. The formfitting
drysuit molded to his massive size, making him even sexier in her eyes. The
neoprene stretched taut across his broad chest, abs, biceps and thighs. His
bottom looked inviting and it took a great act of resistance not to playfully
slap that solid mound of muscle. At her side, he moved in sync with her
underwater rhythm, touching her gently. Tiny tremors skittered across her flesh
beneath her drysuit.

Like magic, their suits disappeared and it didn’t matter
they had no breathing apparatus. It was a dream. Caledonia didn’t panic. She
let the vision override common sense and snuggled into the depths of a perfect
moment suspended in the confines of her mind. He reached for her. Mouth upon
mouth, they kissed. Tongues interlocked in a war of passion. Deeper they
descended until two bodies connected as one lay on a bed of underwater foliage
at the bottom of the loch.

The outside world disappeared. There was nothing but her,
Struan and the phenomenal gifts of Loch Tay swimming around them.

Hours later she woke to the ring of the telephone. Caledonia
sat upright. The clock claimed it was two. Had she truly dozed off for several
hours? Momma, Poppa, had they returned?
Ring. Ring.
She jumped to answer
the phone. In a voice groggy from sleep, she answered, “Hello.”

“Hey, Caledonia,” Percy stated cheerfully. “How’s everything
on your end?”

“Fine,” she managed to reply as she tried to brush off the
last remnants of her nap. “What time are you and Abel bringing the van back?”

“Not until tomorrow,” he said. “The auto shop had to order
the part and it won’t be in until the morning. That’s why I’m calling. Is your
poppa around? I need to make sure it’s all right to just hang here until then
and drive back as soon as we have the part.”

Her brain kicked into gear with an idea that made her heart
flutter. This gave her another day with Struan. But would he be happy when he
woke and found himself still at Loch Tay and not home? Caledonia chewed her
lower lip. Struan did say he wanted to learn to dive. Maybe this little setback
wasn’t really a setback at all. The lingering effects of euphoria from her
dream drove her to her next decision. She planned to make at least one of his
wishes come true before he returned to Castle MacKinnon. A grin split her lips.

“Percy, you guys keep the van,” she said. “Just let me know
where you’re staying in case of an emergency. You know, this wouldn’t be a
problem if you agreed to carry a cell phone.”

Percy’s laugh made her smile. She knew his reply even before
he said it. “Cell phones are for yuppies. Do you remember Big Mike from the
salvage crew?”

“Yeah,” she replied. Who could forget a man who stood around
six foot four and weighed in at about three hundred pounds? Though he was
large, he handled the equipment with the style and grace of a ballerina. There
wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix.