The impact of the water as I hit was unlike anything I’d experienced before. I imagined it to be something like diving off the high-dive without any form. I would be sore for days.
I couldn’t explain it—what happened from the moment I threw the rock to the moment I hit the water. One minute I was on the shore, the next everything around me went black, the next, water rushed up into my nose as I sunk into the water.
Luckily, I reacted quickly, and I pushed my way up to the surface as soon as I registered that I was under water. I could swim well, although I preferred tip-toeing into the water to being catapulted into it.
My head was bleeding, I reached up to touch it as I treaded to get my bearings, and my hand came away covered in blood. It didn’t hurt, but I suppose I was in some sort of shock from the sudden jolt. I wasn’t altogether sure whether I hit my head upon immersing, or I’d been wacked over the head so that I could be tossed into it.
I spun in a circle and, for the first time, saw just how far I was from any shore. No way had I been thrown into the water. But if not, how else did I end up here? I started to scream. At Morna, at Bri, at anyone who would listen.
“I’m going to kill that crazy old bitch! Morna! Where the hell are you? On the other hand, you better run, because when I find you, I’m going to kick your ass! You said Bri was supposed to be here! Did you put the Kool-Aid in that chicken pot pie?”
My back was toward him, but I spun quickly when I heard his voice. Cheese and crackers, he was freaking beautiful.
“What is ‘cooo-laid,’ lass?”
I momentarily forgot to kick my feet and dipped beneath the surface shortly before popping back up to spit up more water. He was at my side in an instant, his firm hand yanking me upward.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
He reached up and dabbed at the wound on my head. “No, ye are no fine. Ye are bleeding, lass. Do ye need me to help ye to shore?”
I pulled away from him and started to swim. Gorgeous or not, bleeding or not, I didn’t know this man, and I had a sneaking suspicion he was part of the Kool-Aid club, whoever he was. “No. I can make it just fine.”
“As ye wish, but ye will let me see to it once we get on shore. Ye have no choice in the matter.”
No choice, my ass. My head would stop bleeding, but my sanity grew more fragile with every second I spent in Scotland. I would find Bri and bounce.
He was a practiced swimmer and reached the shore minutes before me, but he obviously saw how much I didn’t want his help. He remained waiting on the shore for me to arrive.
He stood there dripping wet, bare-chested, chiseled beyond belief, and wearing, I kid you not, a kilt. My stomach immediately felt swimmy, even though by this point I was pulling myself out of the water.
I saw his face in the middle of the pond and, while it was equally stunning, to see the package all together, half-naked and dripping, was enough to warm my freezing, wet skin through. His dark eyes slanted out at the ends just slightly, making him look serious and smoldering. His hair was dark brown blended with different shades of copper, making his wavy hair look shiny and alive. He had lots of it and, although cut short, the glorious mass hung loosely around his ears. Wet, wavy curls hung down into his face and eyes.
I shook my head. No matter how ridiculously handsome he was, he was obviously part of the lunatic gang. I twisted and reached behind me to wring out my hair. The long ringlets absorbed water like a towel and, as I squeezed, it poured from the red locks like a running faucet.
“That’s some head of hair ye’ve got there, lass. ’Tis stunning.”
“Umm…thanks. Now seriously, I did what the crazy bat asked. I got dressed in this ridiculous outfit, traveled out here, threw the damn rock, and somehow got in the water. Surely that’s enough for you bastards to allow Bri to talk to me. If she seriously wants to stay here, fine, but I need to see her and speak to her.”
He regarded me skeptically and grabbed my arm as he dragged me over to a small rock bench just a few feet in front of us. “Bastard, lass? I am no one of those. Ye must be thinking of me brothers, and ye must have hit yer head harder than ye thought for no only are ye bleeding, ye are speaking utter nonsense.”
I briefly forgot about my head, but as I felt the blood trickle down my face, I reached up to touch the gash above my forehead and winced at the sting. “Ouch. Yep, that hurts like a bitch now.”
“Now? Did it no hurt ye before, lass?”