Highlander's Charm (Highlander Heat #3)

Calum flapped the sand from his plaid and wrapped it gently around Lila’s shoulders. The so-called wetsuit she wore molded every curve of her body, and ’twas best none of his men caught sight of it. She snuggled into his tartan, and with a hand at her back, he led her up the grassy rise and into the keep. He signaled the guard to lower the portcullis for the night. Lila was here, and deep within him, he knew her, even though they’d never met before. The fortuneteller had said they were bound, and to embrace his coming visions. He would have them because of her, until all things were set right.

“This place is amazing.” Her gaze roamed in all directions. “You said before your chief had been captured. What did you mean by that?”

“Three days past, during a recent battle on the Isle of Islay, Lachlan was caught by clan MacDonald then handed over to the king’s men. The dungeons will be where he’ll remain while the king has his way.”

“The king still has dungeons?” She scratched her head. “Oh, I get it. Authenticity. I realize you live here, but you don’t have to keep the act going for me.”

“There is no act. Duart is mine to protect with Lachlan’s son still so young.”

“Seriously, take a break.” She smiled and wagged a finger at him. “Opening hours must be over by now.”

More of her strange words.

“This way.” He bypassed the great hall where his clan would be enjoying their evening meal and instead escorted Lila up the tower’s side stairs and into his chamber. He closed the door, crossed the room and stoked the fire to blazing life. “I’ll have you warm soon.” He added another log.

“This is amazing.” She wandered to his side table, set her flippers down then picked up the pitcher and poured water into the basin. “What a beautiful antique.” She traced along the rim.

“’Twas gifted to me, but ’tis no antique.”

“Oh, sorry. It looks like one.” She drifted to his desk, inspected his candleholder then glanced at the ceiling. “Now that’s strange. The wall sconces in the hallway were lit by candlelight, but how come there aren’t any lights or electricity? I heard Duart had gone through several restorations.”

“What are you speaking about, lass? Do you feel well?”

“Yes, but I’m anxious.” Her silver eyes sparkled, the most magical color. “I really can’t wait until the morning to make that call.” She nibbled on her lush lower lip. “Zayn lives in Kilchoan. I have his number.”

“What number do you speak of?” Ardnamurchan was the enemy’s land.

“Ah, that would be number you dial”—she lifted a brow—“when using a phone.”

Aye, she was no’ yet of sound mind after her adventurous dip in the loch. He tucked a drying strand of black hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her earlobe. Tingles raced along his fingertips. “I’ll call a healer in the morn if your head has still no’ cleared.”

“My head is fine, and you’ve really got to stop acting like this is the sixteenth century. I’d enjoy it if I were a tourist, but not right now. I have people to call.”

“’Tis the sixteenth century. The year of our Lord, fifteen-ninety.” The fortuneteller had said ’twas his duty to aid her. Whether she was confused or not, he would. “What year do you believe it is?”

“Not believe. It’s twenty-fourteen.” She glanced around his chamber. “You’re clearly letting your work get to you. You have a quill, but no pen. You have candles, and no light bulbs. You have a trunk, yet no dresser. You’re wearing warrior attire and have a sword. You have no phone, and you’ve never heard of a wetsuit or Sydney. But in the real world, those things exist.”

“Mayhap you’d rather I call a healer now?”

“Grrreat. Let’s do that.” She sank onto the end of his bed and fisted his brown fur covers. “Maybe the healer will allow me to borrow his phone and call Zayn, unless you’re all in on this act together.”

The fortuneteller had never said the woman would have such—his vision clouded and he grasped the wooden desk chair. He envisioned Lila sitting on his bed, speaking to him. She tugged the tight sleeve of her wetsuit up and uncovered a well-crafted piece of metal strapped to her wrist. She angled it toward him then pressed a knob on the side. It lit as if sunlight was contained within.

He blinked and the image melted away.

Aye, the visions had begun as the fortuneteller had said.

On his knees, he gripped her cold hands. “Show me the contraption you have on your wrist.”

“How did you—never mind. Of course I’ll show you if it’ll help you accept what I’ve been saying.” She lowered the plaid he’d wrapped around her then showed him the piece. “This is a watch, and don’t tell me you haven’t seen one of these before.”

“’Tis impressive. In my vision, you lit it up.”

“You’ve had a vision too? I’ve had them as well today.”