Highlander's Kiss (Clan Matheson #1)

“Julia, wait.” Arabel shot a look at her foot. “Your shawl is—”

She couldn’t halt her momentum, or free her slippered foot caught in the trailing ends of her shawl. She toppled over and went down, hard. She hit her head on the edge of the stone landing and black spots danced before her eyes. All went dark.



“Julia, please, wake up.” Arabel’s voice floated over her. “Now.”

“I’m—” Oh dear, her head thumped as if horses stampeded within.

“Do as your sister says.” Soft hands fluttered over her temple. Cherub’s.

She forced the darkness away and blinked her eyes open. Arabel and Cherub wavered into view, their faces awash with worry. “I’m all right, just a bit—Oooh, everything is swaying.”

“Which means you arena all right at all. You’re also bleeding, and rather profusely.” Arabel gripped the hem of her forest-green skirts, exposed her shift underneath and tore a strip from the bottom of the ivory cotton. Carefully, Arabel wrapped the strip around her head and tied it off in a knot at the back. “This should help stem the blood flow until I can get you inside. You’re going to need stitches, several of them.”

“Nay, please, no stitches.” She touched the bound cloth at the back, her fingers coming away wet with blood. “I hate stitches, and I hate even more how rough you are when you administer them.”

“I’m no’ rough. But stitches are stitches. One cannae halt the pain when taking needle and thread to one’s self.” Arabel patted her hand. “Although I promise to be as gentle as I possibly can.”

“Ladies, wait a moment, there’s another option.” Cherub slid one arm under Julia’s back and helped her sit up. “I know of a healer within my mate’s clan. Tavish is known as a doctor in the twenty-first century and I’ve been to see him a time or two when I’ve had an injured kinsman who required far more aid than what a healer in this time can offer.” Cherub looked into her eyes. “Julia, in the future there are great advancements in healing and Tavish can ensure your wound is stitched without you experiencing any pain whatsoever. If you wish, I can take you to him.”

“You’re going to take me to the future?” She would gladly take Cherub up on her offer for that reason alone. Seeing the time and place where Arabel would soon live with Finlay enticed her to no end. “I would love to go to Ivanson Castle.”

“Then we shall.” Cherub glanced at Arabel with a slightly impish tilt to her lips. “’Twill be best if I take just Julia since Finlay willnae appreciate it if I take you so far from his side, even if only for a little while.”

“I’ll remain but only if you promise to bring Julia back here as soon as you can.” Arabel crawled to Julia’s feet and unhooked her shawl still snagged around her slippered foot.

“I give you my word I will.” With one arm wrapped around Julia’s waist in support, Cherub aided her to her feet. “Julia, you’re to hold on to me while we’re traveling through the vortex I open. No letting go, otherwise you’ll experience a far rougher journey than what is necessary.”

“I understand. I’ll hold tight.” She’d never traveled through one of Cherub’s portals. Eager, she gripped Cherub’s arm.

“Be careful as you travel.” Arabel stepped back, blew each of them a kiss.

“We will.” Cherub swirled her fingers through the air and the wind rose and whipped all about. A portal opened and she and Cherub fell away into the churning abyss.

Stars whirled through the dark and lightning flashed. Excitement buzzed through Julia and she gasped at the sheer beauty of moving through both time and space. What an adventure. She’d gladly fall from her horse again just to experience this.



Far in the future and on guard in the misty moonlight, Tavish Matheson patrolled the battlements of Ivanson Castle. All remained quiet beyond the curtain wall, the surveillance cameras mounted on the topmost corners of the ramparts capturing the stillness of the night and nothing more. Beyond their keep, the forest stretched for miles upon miles within the mountainous ranges of the Highlands, providing their shifter clan with the perfect level of isolation they needed from the rest of the world.

Deep within the woods, an owl hooted then a second joined the first’s nightly call. He scanned the woods, his shifter sight alone allowing him to see so very well in the gloomy dark. Unease rolled through him and his bear pricked under his skin. Something was off, although he had no idea what.

“Anything interesting going on tonight, brother?” Tor strode toward him in his belted plaid and shirt, his golden shifter eyes bright in the near dark.

“Not a thing, although that alone is making me even more restless.” The wind rose and fog swirled over the treetops. The brisk breeze lifted his black hair and plastered his white shirt against his chest. He palmed his belted sword resting snug at his side. “Are you here to take over?”