Jennifer Labrecque - Highland Fling

Hamish shrugged. “I told you it’s a strange tale.”

“But you haven’t been gone from the castle.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I exist on several different planes, at different points in time, in different places.”

“Are you some kind of dark magic?”

“I don’t know what I am.” He’d ceased long ago to feel sorrow over his unusual state. “I’ve just learned to accept it. I can’t make anything happen. But things happen through me.” He gestured to the painting on the wall. “That painting spoke to you, drew you, did it not, lass?”

“Yes.” Her skin flushed to a rosy glow.

“You’ve seen that painting before?” Darach asked her.

“Yes. It was in a traveling exhibit, Sex Through the Ages, in the Atlanta museum.”

“Sex Through the Ages?” Darach frowned at her.

“I didn’t name the thing,” Kate snapped back at him. “I just showed up for the viewing.”

Hamish jumped in to get the conversation back on track. “And the draw was so strong you couldn’t stay away?”

“Yes. Did you do that to me? Did you cast some kind of spell?”

“No. What you felt was between the two of you. That’s the way it works. I don’t pick anyone. If you weren’t supposed to be here, if on some level you didn’t want to be here, you wouldn’t.”

“Wait a second. Something’s obviously gotten screwed up somewhere along the line. I definitely don’t want to be here. I want to be home. You’ve got the wrong gal. I think you meant to snag my friend Jordan. She’s a history major. Trust me. She’d much rather be here, well, maybe not tied to the bed,” she glared in Darach’s direction, “but she’s into history and this would be right up her alley. Trust me on this. I’m not the person for this. I don’t do history. I’ve never even been to the Renaissance festival ’cause I don’t like that stuff. I’m a techno freak. I love the conveniences of modern life. Electricity. Running water. Flush toilets. CAT scans. Penicillin. Starbucks.”

“Aye. A mocha latte grande is a thing of beauty.”

“See. You understand. You have to send me back.”

He upended his palms in a gesture of helplessness. “I can not. Only you can send yourself back.”

“No. That’s not true. ’Cause I’d be home right now if I could. And I tried to go through the picture earlier.”

“No, lass, ’tis yourself that has brought you here. You wanted to be here so much you were willing to come as bare as a bairn. And once you have taken care of what you came here for, you’ll return.”

Darach stood, arrogant, commanding, smug. “So the lass wanted a tumble with me that bad, did she?”

“Actually, your need for her was so strong that she felt it coming through.”

“Now I know you are daft, man. I don’t need her.” He eyed her stretched out on his bed, clad in his plaid. “Now, there is no denying I want her. I’m willing to tumble a comely lass, but I don’t need her. There is any number of lasses willing to warm my bed.”

“You are the most arrogant, pig-headed, macho, blustering bag of hot air. Whatever faint glimmer of attraction I felt at one point for a man in a picture has totally dissipated having experienced your lack of charm first-hand.”

Darach’s mouth tightened. “Aye. And I can do without a viper-tongued wench.”

“Wench? Wench? Lass is one thing, but did you just call me a wench? I’ll have you know I’m a doctor. No one calls me a wench. I passed my boards with flying colors. I could take you apart and put you back together with my eyes closed.”

“That may all be well and true, Katie-love, but while you are here, I’m the laird.”

Hamish let himself out of the room. For the time being, his work was done.

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