She dropped her disbelieving gaze to the bed in which she lay. A four-poster of blond wood with a frothy white canopy, she’d adored this bed in their home in Indian Hill, a lifetime ago.
She shot straight up in bed, trembling violently.
Had she finally, irrevocably lost her mind?
“M-Mom?” she called, knowing full well no one was going to answer her. And because no one would answer her she felt safe tossing her head back and wailing it.
“Mom!”
She heard the rush of feet on the stairs, and held her breath as the door opened. It seemed to inch inward in slow motion, as if she were watching a movie and the door opened frame by frame. Her heart tightened painfully when Catherine stepped in, a spatula in her hand, her brows drawn together in an expression of concern.
“What is it, Lisa? Did you have a bad dream, darling?”
Lisa swallowed, unable to speak. Her mother looked precisely as she would have looked had the car accident never happened, had the cancer never taken her. Eyes wide, she feasted on the impossible vision.
“Mom,” she croaked.
Catherine looked at her expectantly.
“Is, um … D-Daddy here?” Lisa asked faintly, struggling to comprehend this new “reality.”
“Of course not, sleepy-head. You know he leaves for work at seven. Are you hungry?”
Lisa stared. Of course not, sleepy-head. So normal, so routine, as if Catherine and Lisa had never been separated. As if Daddy had always been alive and the tragic past that had torn their family apart had never happened.
“What year is it?” she managed.
Her mother laughed. “Lisa!” She reached out a hand and tousled her hair. “It must have been quite a dream.”
Lisa narrowed her eyes, thinking hard.
Downstairs, the doorbell chimed, and Catherine turned toward the sound. “Who could that be this early?” She glanced back at Lisa. “Come down for breakfast, darling. I made your favorite. Poached eggs, bacon, and toast.”
Lisa watched her mom leave the room, stunned. She fought the urge to leap from her bed, wrap her arms around her mother’s departing knees, and hang on for dear life. Her mother’s knees were unscarred and strong. Joy flooded her. She must have died, she decided, on that strange beach in the stranger land. Was this heaven?
She’d take it—whatever it was.
Snatches of conversation floated up from the foyer. She tuned them out, studying her room. She’d kept a calendar on her desk and was itching to know “when” she was now, but before she could move, her mother called up.
“Lisa, darling, come down. You have a guest. He says he’s a friend of yours from the university.” Her mother’s voice sounded excited and oh-so-approving.
University? She was in college? Oh, this was heaven. Now all she needed was Circenn to make it complete.
Lisa leaped from the bed, tugged on her favorite white fluffy robe (astonishing that it was hanging right on her bedpost where she’d always hung it!) and hurried down the stairs, wondering who could possibly be calling for her. As she rounded the curved staircase, her heart thumped hard in her chest.
Circenn Brodie arched a brow and smiled. Simultaneously, a wave of love hit her, sent along their special bond.
Lisa nearly whimpered, overwhelmed with pleasure, disbelief, and confusion. He was wearing charcoal trousers and a black silk polo shirt that rippled across his muscular chest, from which he was dusting a light misting of rain. His hair had been trimmed and was pulled back in a leather thong. Expensive Italian boots made her blink and shake her head. She’d never seen him in such fitted clothing and could only imagine the stir he must have caused strolling around in the twenty-first century. Clothing didn’t make this man, he made the clothing, molding it with his powerful body; six feet seven inches of rippling brawn. She briefly envisioned him in a pair of faded jeans and nearly swooned.
“Mrs. Stone, would you mind terribly if I took your daughter out to breakfast? We have some catching up to do.”
Catherine eyed the magnificent man standing in the doorway. “No, not at all. Why don’t just come in and have some coffee while Lisa gets dressed,” she invited graciously.
“Wear jeans, lass.” Circenn said, his gaze intense. “And your ‘you-knows,’” he added in a voice roughened by desire.
Catherine glanced back and forth between them, taking in the tender, passionate look from the tall, elegant man in the doorway and the startled yet dreamy expression on Lisa’s face. She wondered why Lisa had hidden the fact that she was in love, and from her own mother, at that. Not once had Lisa mentioned a boyfriend, but Catherine decided that perhaps she hadn’t spoken of it because it was the “real thing.” When Catherine had first met Jack, she’d told no one about him; she’d felt that talking about it might somehow debase the private sanctity of their bond.
Lisa still hadn’t moved from the base of the steps. She couldn’t breathe; she was riveted by him. How had this come to pass? How was Circenn Brodie standing in the doorway of her Indian Hill home, talking to her living, healthy mother, while her living, healthy father was at work, when she’d left him seven hundred years in the past?
The dream flooded back over her: We must do it now.
“What did you do?” she asked weakly.
“What did he do about what, Lisa?” Catherine asked curiously.
“We have much to discuss, lass,” he said tenderly.
“Is that a brogue I detect?” Catherine exclaimed. “I’ve always thought Scotland was such a romantic country. Jack and I have been discussing going for summer vacation this year.”
Circenn moved to Catherine, raised her hand to his lips, and brushed her knuckles with a kiss. “Perhaps you could visit my home when you come,” he said. “I would be pleased to welcome Lisa’s parents into my keep.”
Lisa had never seen Catherine so flustered. “Keep?” she exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you have a castle. Oh! I’ll just get that coffee,” she said with a breathless laugh. As she turned toward the kitchen, she glanced back at her daughter, who was still standing frozen at the foot of the stairs.
“Lisa, did you hear him? He wants to take you to breakfast, although the way he’s dressed, I’m not certain jeans would be appropriate, darling. Perhaps the beige dress with those strappy sandals I like so much.”
Lisa nodded stupidly, just to get her mother out of the room. Then she realized that she was encouraging her healthy mother to leave the room. She flung a startled look at Circenn and mouthed, Just a minute, don’t move, then flew across the foyer, catching up with her mother as she entered the hall.
“Wait!” she cried.
Catherine turned around and looked at her quizzically. “You’re acting very odd today, Lisa.” She smiled, leaned near to Lisa’s ear, and whispered. “I like him. Oh my! Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
Lisa threw her arms around Catherine. “I love you, Mom,” she said fiercely.
Catherine gave a startled and pleased little laugh—just the kind of half-breathless sound of joy Lisa remembered from before Jack had died, in the other reality.
“I don’t know what this is all about, Lisa, but I love you too, darling. Only tell me your next words aren’t going to be ‘and I’m sorry but I’m pregnant and running off to get married,’” she teased. “I’m not ready for an empty nest.”
Lisa’s hand flew to her abdomen and her eyes widened. “Uh … Oh! I should get dressed.” Leaving her mother with raised brows and a very intrigued expression on her face, Lisa fled the hallway before she could think much harder about the possibility her mother had raised.
LISA GLANCED AROUND THE SUITE, BEWILDERED. AFTER she had slipped on lacy you-knows, jeans, and a blouse, Circenn had efficiently navigated traffic and driven them downtown to The Cincinnatian, where he’d reserved a suite. She was stunned by how capable he was, how quickly he’d adapted to and taken control of her modern-day world. But then she remembered that the man was a born conqueror and warrior,
and the twenty-first century, while overwhelming, was just one more challenge for him, and he would master it with the same aplomb as he’d mastered his own century.
He’d explained a bit on the ride there, and gravely informed her that he forgave her for leaving him, although his lower lip had been set at such an angle that she’d known his feelings had been hurt.
He’d also explained that they’d kept her on the isle of Morar while he and Adam had changed her future, and filled her in on how they’d prevented the car wreck and the cancer.
“But I thought you hated Adam.”
Circenn sighed as he popped open a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. Dropping onto the bed, he gave her a guilty look and patted the bed beside him.
He opened his arms. “Come. I need you, lass,” he whispered before closing his mouth over hers. Then he proceeded to show her how very much he needed her.
Clothing fell swiftly away as they undressed each other urgently. When she was clad in nothing but a lacy pale pink bra and panties, he lifted her high in his arms above him and fell back onto the bed. Lisa sat astride him and ran her hands over his muscled chest, following the trail of silky dark hair with a feather-light finger.
Slipping the strap of her bra down, he groaned softly. “I love these lacy things.”
Lisa laughed and dropped her head forward so that her hair curtained his face. “I love you”
“I know,” her said smugly. And for a few moments she was lost in a wave of passion and tenderness and love that surged silently along their unique bond.
Never leave me, lass, you are the one and only, forever.
“What?” she exclaimed.
“Did you hear me?” With lazy sensuality, he dragged his tongue over the peak of her nipple through the thin silk of her bra. It crested eagerly.
“Words! I heard you in words!”
“Mmm,” he murmured, nipping gently at the buds he’d teased beneath the silk. With a quick snap her bra was off, and he cupped her breasts in his hands, brushing the pads of his thumbs over her nipples. Will you love me forever? He caught a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently.
Lisa shook her head, trying to clear it. Even after all the times she’d made love with him, she still couldn’t think clearly when he was touching her. “What are you saying?”
That I need you forever, Lisa Brodie. Wed me and have babies with me and give me forever.
“Lisa Brodie?” she squeaked.
You doona think I’d leave you in shame, do you? Be my wife. I promise you will want for naught. He slipped his hands inside her panties and cupped her bottom. His gaze was fixed on her abdomen, as if he were trying to see inside her. Her hand flew to her stomach.
“Do you know something I don’t know?” she asked suspiciously.
Just that you’ve already done one of the three things I am asking you to do.
“I’m pregnant? I’m going to have your baby?” she exclaimed, a shiver of delight racing up her spine.
Our baby. Yes, lass, he already grows within you and he will be very … special. Marry me, love.
“Yes,” she said. “Oh yes yes yes, Circenn!”
I am the luckiest man in the world.
“Yes,” Lisa agreed, then thought no more for a long time.
* * *
Afterward, they showered together, slipping and sliding in the huge marble shower that had six spouts, three on each wall. Circenn indulged with the unfettered pleasure of a fourteenth-century barbarian who’d never seen a shower before, standing in the streams of the water, shaking his head and spraying it everywhere. They made love on the marble floor, in the corner against the wall, and in the Jacuzzi. Lisa, wrapped in a fluffy white robe, was toweling her hair dry when she heard Circenn yelling in the bedroom.
Startled, she slipped from the bathroom only to discover Circenn standing nude in front of the TV, roaring at it.
“William Wallace did not look like that!” He gestured irritably at the TV.
Lisa laughed, as she realized he was pointing at a blue-faced Mel Gibson, storming into battle in Braveheart.
“And Robert doona look like that!” he complained.
“Perhaps you should try writing a script yourself,” she teased.
“They’d never believe it. It is obvious your time has no idea what my time was really like.”
“Speaking of your time and my time, where—or should I say when—will we live, Circenn?”
Circenn pressed the Off button on the remote control like a pro, and turned to her. “Any place you wish, Lisa. We can spend six months in my time and six months here, or go week to week. I know you wish to be near your family. We could take them back too.”
Lisa’s eyes grew wide. “We could? We could take my mom and dad to your time?”
“How would you like to be married in a fourteenth-century ceremony with your mother and father in attendance? Your father may bequeath you to me, and I in turn will grant him a handsome manor, should your parents choose to retire there. Of course Robert, Duncan, and Galan will insist upon being present as well—I’m afraid it may turn into quite a spectacle.”
Lisa couldn’t stop smiling. “I would love that! A fairytale wedding.”
“Provided we are cautious not to change too many things, I see no problem arranging it. I’m beginning to understand what Adam meant when he said if one looks down the timeline, one can discern which things are irrevocable and should not be manipulated, and which things will make little difference.”
“Adam,” Lisa said hesitantly. She hadn’t forgotten for a moment that Circenn hadn’t answered her earlier question.
“Yes,” a voice said behind her, as Adam materialized in their suite. He grinned at Circenn. “So you finally got around to asking her to marry you. I was beginning to despair. Every time I tried to pop in, the two of you were …”
She spun around. “You!”
Adam grinned puckishly, turned into Eirren, then turned back into Adam. Lisa was speechless. But only for a moment.
She advanced on him. “You saw me in my bath!”
“What?” Circenn thundered.
“He visited me the whole time I was in your century,” she clarified.
Circenn glared at his father. “Did you?”
Adam shrugged, the cameo of innocence. “I was concerned you might not be treating her well enough and checked in from time to time. You should be grateful that I decided upon full disclosure—I had considered just telling her that Eirren had run off, when she got around to asking about him. But I’ve decided to try to be a new person henceforth, at least around you and Lisa.”
“Why do you put up with him?” Lisa said, shaking her head.
“Lisa, it’s all right,” Circenn said, moving swiftly to her side. “It’s not what you think.” He scowled at Adam. “Doona think I’ve forgotten you saw her in her bath. We will speak of it later, the three of us, and have the whole story out. But how did you come here by yourself? Has Aoibheal forgiven you?”
Adam preened, casting his silky dark hair over his shoulder. “Of course. I am once again all-powerful.”
“Why are you being nice to him?” Lisa snapped.
“Lass, he helped me do all that I’ve done.”
“He made you immortal!”
“And if he hadn’t, I never would have met you, but would have died over a thousand years before you were born. He helped save your mother and father. And … Adam is … my father.”
“Your father!” She gaped for a moment, as the information sunk in. Heavens, but there was obviously a great deal she still didn’t know about Circenn Brodie. But she was more than willing to learn.
Circenn guided her to a chair and sat her down, then the two men took turns filling in her gaps of knowledge regarding the man who would be her husband. And once she knew, it made perfect sense, and explained everything: his unusual powers, his resentment toward Adam, Adam’s unwillingness to let his son die.
A few moments
of silence passed while she pondered all they’d told her, then she realized they were both watching her intently, and it seemed that they were waiting for something.
Adam moved to her side and reached in his pocket, and Lisa watched curiously, wondering what new thing they were going to spring on her next.
“You know now that I am half-fairy, Lisa,” Circenn said gently. “Can you accept that?”
Lisa stood on her tiptoes and kissed him frill on the lips. Yes, she assured him.
No regrets?
No regrets.
When Adam withdrew a shimmering flask and a pair of goblets, and poured three drops of glowing liquid into one of the glasses, Lisa scarcely breathed.
She watched in silence as Adam passed the glasses of champagne to Circenn, who—with great deliberation—offered Lisa the glass with the potion in it.
He regarded her gravely, then gave her a tender smile.
Love me forever, lass.
Lisa looked deep into his eyes.
Live with me forever Cease my endless solitude. I will cherish you. I will show you worlds you’ve only dreamed of I will walk beside you, hand in hand, until the end of days.
Lisa reached for the goblet.
Champagne had never tasted sweeter.
Catherine Stone’s cervical cancer was indeed preventable. While doing research for The Highlander’s Touch, I was distressed to discover the number of women who die from this disease each year. Cervical cancer is killing some 200,000 women annually, and at least 370,000 new cases are identified each year. It has been estimated that only 5 percent of women in developing countries have been screened for cervical dysplasia in the past five years, and only 40 to 50 percent in developed countries.
A simple Pap screening test performed by a gynecologist can detect cervical dysplasia in its precancerous stages. The earlier it is detected, the less invasive the treatment. An annual Pap screening test changed Catherine’s life and could change the lives of many others. We women need to take care of ourselves!