Authors: Donna Kauffman
He nudged her head up. “Am I to be insulted?”
“God, no. It was incredible. You were incredible. I'm thinking of having you bronzed.” She did laugh then, reveling in the sheer delight of such intense pleasure. “All of which is to say, damn, you're good.”
“I'm beginning to see the positives in yer swearin’.” He smiled then and her world felt remarkably right. So she nestled back against him and when
his big hands began to slowly stroke her back, she let sleep tug her under. Sleep would be safe, too. As long as she never woke up. Yep, she'd just stay right here, in fantasyland… the ghost and the pussycat.
It wasn't a ghost or a pussycat that woke her up. She had no idea what time it was, or even what day for that matter. There were no windows, only the glow of a fire burned low. She was in the tower. In Connal's bed. She rubbed her eyes, yawned and stretched, wincing as some of her muscles protested. She grinned through the pain. What a night. She didn't even remember moving to his bed. She shifted to her side, but had already known she was alone. Had he tucked her here after she fell asleep in his arms?
A sleepy smile curved her lips.
“I dinna wish to startle ye.”
“Jesus Christ!” Josie shrieked and flew upright, clutching the bedcovers to her chest. Her bare chest. She blinked and tried to calm her thundering pulse. There was someone else in the room… and it wasn't Connal.
“Bagan.” She groaned and flopped back on the bed, pulling the covers over her head. “I knew I didn't want morning to come.”
“A fine good day to you, as well, lass,” he said, if a bit dryly.
She didn't want to have a conversation with Bagan. Or anyone else. She wanted Connal. In bed. Naked. Doing things to her that kept her from thinking. And conversing.
“I didna mean to disturb yer slumber,” he said.
“Well, ye didna succeed too well at that,” she said grumpily. Then she remembered the rules and groped her neck. No necklace. She sat up again,
clutching the covers. “How can I see you without the necklace? What's going on? What's happening to me now? I am really getting tired of—”
“Whoa, whoa, lassie. Tis all right.” He smiled, looking well pleased. “Aye, 'tis as right as it could be.”
“That would depend on whom you're asking. Why can I see you without the stone?”
“The laird of the stone can always see me.”
“Connal, yes, I know that. But how does that change me being able to see you?”
He smiled again and settled into the corner chair. “You now belong to the laird. Yer hearts have joined.”
Josie felt the stirrings of a headache. “You know, I really just wanted a nice peaceful morning.” And maybe some more mind-bending ghost sex. She dipped her chin and heaved a sigh, then looked back at Bagan. “So, you're basically saying that because I had sex with Connal, I can now see you all the time?”
Bagan plucked at the folds in his kilt. “That is a rather coarse way of sayin’ it, but aye, that is the way of things. I'm to guard ye both now, as the stone has made its match.”
The tension that Connal had so deliciously rid her of last night crept back along her spine, making her doubly irritable. “Meaning?” She eyed him steadily.
Bagan gamely held her gaze. “The bairn, lass. Ye might be carryin’ the little lad as we speak.”
The tension ebbed, the relief sweet. Josie smiled. “I'm no’ carrying any bairn.”
“How can ye be so certain. The Fates—”
“Can't circumvent the Pill, as far as I know.”
“Pill?”
She nodded. “Small, hormone-filled tablet that prevents women from getting pregnant. Marvelous invention.”
Bagan looked quite concerned. “You've taken this pill?”
She nodded, seeing how upset he was and knowing she should feel bad. But she was hardly going to get pregnant just to make the dwarf happy. “Every day.”
Bagan sighed and stroked his chin. “Well, this is an unforeseen complication.” He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then a spark lit his bright blue eyes. “How many of these pills do ye have with you?”
“Enough,” Josie shot back. The ferry was scheduled for tomorrow. Then she'd sail away from this madness. She idly wondered if Connal would be up for one last night.
Greedy, aren't we? She
swallowed a grin.
Sue me.
Bagan seemed unfazed by her remark, which should have alarmed her, but she was still daydreaming about another possible encounter with Connal.
He slid from the chair and waddled to the door. “There are clean clothes by the hearth for ye. Once yer dressed, I'll escort you back to the croft.”
That jerked her from her fantasies. “Where is Connal?”
Bagan turned and sent her a look. “What of it? Ye dinna need him now that ye've had yer pleasure of him, aye?”
Josie did have the grace to blush. “I wanted to thank him.” She quickly added, “For helping me with the fire.” Now that she thought of that, she realized she had no idea what kind of damage had been done. She had to take care of that before she left. Gregor didn't even know he had a houseguest, much less one that had tried to torch his cottage. “I'll let you know when I'm dressed,” she said, sadly accepting that her fling was over. Oh well, she thought, it would provide her with many a warm recollection. She smiled as she picked up her clothes. More than warm.
Then she realized that they were, in fact, her clothes. She shot a quick glance to the door, wondering who had retrieved them from the croft. Bagan, or Connal?
She dressed quickly, gave one last lingering look at the small, Spartan rooms. Somehow none of that had mattered last night. Were Connal to stride back in the room that moment, she thought it probably wouldn't matter now either.
Trying to ignore the twitch of desire, she called for Bagan, who led her back down the tunnel.
“Is the tide in?” she asked, wondering why they were going this route.
“Oh, aye, you could say that.”
The storm. Duh. She'd forgotten all about it. She'd been too busy making thunder of her own. The surf would likely be huge. She felt the adrenaline surge and she grinned. That was just what she needed. A good couple hours working the kinks out of her muscles.
They rounded a corner in the tunnel, only to arrive at the dead end Josie recalled from yesterday. “How does this work, anyway?” She started feeling along the stone for some kind of secret switch or something.
Bagan held a lantern, but there had been small sconces lit all along the passageway this time. “What do ye mean?”
“The door to the outside. Is there some kind of trick to opening it.”
Bagan looked perplexed. “It's right there, behind ye.”
Josie whirled around and damn if there wasn't a slender opening between the stones in the corner. “How did I miss that?” But the question went unanswered as she stepped through it only to be pelted by a cold rain. “Oh, great.”
The surf was deafening, which was likely why
Bagan was tugging on her shirt. She turned, and he handed her Connal's cloak.
“Put this over yer head, lass.” He went to step around her, as if to lead.
“No, that's okay,” she shouted to be heard over the deafening surf. “I can handle it from here.”
“Nay, lass,” he shouted back. “I'm to stay with ye, unless Connal is about.”
That stopped her. “What? You're kidding?” She didn't even bother to stand there and argue. All her sympathy for him being stuck out in this weather evaporated as her temper rose. “I do not need a chaperone,” she sputtered as she stalked up the beach. “And I'll be damned if I'm going to have you around, underfoot, questioning my every move.”
If he was answering her, or even keeping up with her, she had no idea, and refused to turn around and find out. How had such a wonderful night gone to hell so quickly? But then, when Bagan was around, that was par for the course. Well, it was only for one day, she told herself, then she'd be sailing out of here. Certainly she could manage to coexist with him for that long without killing him. If he didn't manage to kill her first.
As she neared the cottage, her concerns turned to the damage from the fire. She hoped it wasn't anything she couldn't repair or at least arrange to have taken care of after she was gone. She'd have to leave Gregor a letter explaining everything and apologizing. Busy thinking up what she was going to say, she almost tripped over Bagan as she stepped through the front door.
He smiled and waggled his fingers at her in a little wave. “Welcome home, lass.”
She was going to ask him how he managed to be here first, then noticed he was bone dry and remembered he didn't have to follow the laws of mere
mortals like her. “Only until tomorrow,” she advised him, then turned around to get her first look at the damage. Only there wasn't any. She also realized she hadn't passed the sodden blanket out in the driveway either.
She faced Bagan once more, who was looking rather pleased with himself. “Did you do this?” she demanded.
“Och, ye think she'd be pleased with my efforts,” he said with a sniff. “Worked me little fingers to the bone for you, I did.”
She raised a brow, skeptical of that announcement, feeling smug when she saw the tinge of blush bloom on his cheery little cheeks. “Worked up a real sweat did you?” She surveyed the room again. “Must have been real hard, snapping your fingers like that.”
There was a loud huff from his direction. “ 'Twas more complicated than that, lass. But the fire did its job, so I wasna put off by a bit of cleanup.”
Josie turned slowly. “What do you mean, the fire did its job? That fire started by accident. I tripped.”
Bagan examined his nails, then some spot on the ceiling. “Aye, well, that ye did.”
Josie thought back to the night before as best she could. She'd come down the stairs, lit the candle on the mantel, then turned and tripped over the lamp. Only when she visually retraced her path now, she saw that the standing lamp wasn't anywhere near the mantel. In fact, it was by the chair near the front window. Which, now that she recalled, was where it had always sat.
Not making a real effort at restraining her temper, she let loose on Bagan. “I could have been hurt! I could have burned this place to the ground. If Connal hadn't shown up when he had—”
“Aye, but he did,” Bagan pointed out, not looking at all abashed by her outburst.
“I could have had third-degree burns by then!” She swung back around, looking for something to throw at him. She'd never been a violent sort, but this… this… miniature Scotsman could drive anyone to commit any number of violent acts. “I can't believe you'd risk something like that. What were you thinking?” She stalked to the small kitchen, but managed to keep from reaching for anything sharp.
Bagan followed her. “I only thought to bring the two of ye together, 'tis all. I've ne'er met with resistance such as yours in all my years as guardian to the stone. I never actually meant for the fire to start.”
She turned on him. “What? Exactly what did you think would happen when I tripped over that lamp?”
“I didna know ye'd be carrying a lit wick, lass. I simply thought—” She apparently looked fierce enough now to penetrate even his thick little head, because he actually took a step back. “If ye were to cry out, that 'twas all.”
“And you thought he'd hear me through that?” She motioned to the front window and the storm still raging on the other side of it.
“Oh aye, he'd have heard ye.”
He said it so certainly, it actually made her pause. And in that moment she decided it really wasn't worth fighting about. It was over and what had happened had… well, she could hardly complain about the outcome, now could she?
As if he were reading her thoughts, Bagan smiled at her, that damnable twinkle back in his eyes. “It all worked out well then, didn't it?”
She growled in his general direction, then sighed and nodded. “Oh aye. That it did, I suppose.”
Bagan scuffed his boot along the fringe of the
rug. “So, there'd be no need to go tellin The MacNeil about my hand in this, would there then?” She looked at him, surprised, but quickly realized her advantage. “Why yes,” she said, her smile actually making him a bit nervous. “I think we can come to some sort of mutually satisfying agreement.”
S
he's done what?”
Bagan nudged at the sand with his boot. “She canno’ be carryin’ yer babe. She's taken a pill to keep her barren.”
Connal turned away from the water and looked toward the croft. Bagan had been out of sight since yesterday and now he knew why. But that wasn't what angered him. He'd done little but think on his night spent with Josie. And not once had he thought that Destiny might have put her plans in motion.
“You wait until now to tell me this?” he demanded tightly, perfectly willing to let Bagan think his anger was directed at him.
“Ye said my job is to watch over her now.”
“Ye don't have much to watch over if she's barren, do ye now?”
Bagan said nothing, leaving Connal to stalk along the shoreline. The rains had finally ended, but the storm had left the beach strewn with flotsam and jetsam. The sun was setting and there was still no sign of her. He'd expected her to be tempted by the heavy surf, but she'd remained in the croft all day. When the dwarf had finally emerged, Connal had actually been happy to see him.