“Of all the languages I’ve been able to learn, why is it I can’t seem to grasp Gaelic?” Trish worried the earbud from her ear and leaned forward to peer out the window of the plane.
“Trish.” Nessa sighed in her most motherly tone. “You know they speak English in Scotland, right?” Thumbing through the pile of archeological journals in her lap, she continued making notes without glancing up from the pages. They went through this on the way to every dig. How many languages did Trish think she had to learn?
As she pulled a map out of her carry-on, Trish stabbed the paper in emphasis of each of her words. “Look at some of these place names! Are you trying to tell me if I didn’t know Gaelic it wouldn’t be easier for me to get us around?”
Ignoring the map as she highlighted an entry in her journal, Nessa placated Trish with an absentminded nod. “You always do a wonderful job of getting us around, Trish, no matter what country we find ourselves exploring.” Maybe Trish would take a nap once the engines settled into their regular flight pattern drone.
Nessa pulled the journal closer as a particular article caught her attention and she adjusted her reading glasses for a better view. “MacKay? Why does that name seem so familiar? Is that the name of any of the contacts we’ve been given to get in touch with once we reach Balnakiel?”
Pulling her BlackBerry out of her pocket, Trish studied the screen as she rolled the wheel with her thumb. “Hmm. No. I don’t have any MacKays on my list. Why? What’s it say?”
Nessa pinched the bridge of her nose, then stuffed her glasses into the neck of her shirt. Leaning her head back against the seat, she squinted her eyes, struggling to place the name. With a shrug, she hid a yawn behind her hand as she stretched her legs as far as the seat would allow. “Nothing really.” She yawned again and nodded toward Trish’s BlackBerry as she struggled to stay awake. “You better put that thing away. You’re not supposed to have it on. The journal just mentioned something about how MacKay Castle had been restored at Balnakiel Bay.”
Trish shrugged in obvious dismissal of Nessa’s words. “Lots of castles have been restored. Scotland’s National Trust restores a lot of the castles as well as a lot of privately funded landmarks. I was reading about it on the Internet the other night. Scotland is proud of its past.” Trish shoved her BlackBerry back in her pocket and fiddled with her iPod. Stuffing her earbud back into place, she closed her eyes as the lesson began.
With a tired sigh, Nessa pushed all the journals back inside her carry-on and shoved it under the seat. With a glance at Trish, she realized she needn’t bother answering by the faraway look on Trish’s face.
Maybe the reason the name MacKay sounded so familiar was that it cropped up every time she turned around. The closer they got to Scotland, the more the name appeared. It was as though someone were trying to lead her toward some unknown goal. Trying to guide her to...what? What could be so important for her to find out about the MacKay clan? What awaited her arrival in Scotland and how did it link to the MacKay family? Could it be some sort of career-making find, mystically fueling the excitement in her blood?
Serendipity? Fate? Destiny? Karma? For some reason, Nessa couldn’t seem to get these ideologies out of her mind either. She was a fervent follower of archeological history and fact. She believed what she could see and touch. Why did these mystically directed belief systems keep cropping up in her head?
Could part of it be because her fantasy Highlander had become increasingly more seductive in her dreams? Once she’d planned her trip to Scotland, the man had a single-minded purpose. The Scot was determined to have some sort of active part in her waking life and not just in her subconscious mind. Her Highlander ramped up his visits each night to ensure he maintained a place in her constant awareness. Her undivided attention during her dreams was no longer enough. He now wanted her mind during her daylight hours as well.
Although he still never spoke, it was obvious he led Nessa down a path with single-minded determination The seduction level of her dreams served to deepen their relationship even more.
With an amused huff, Nessa closed her eyes and settled deeper into her seat. Thank goodness the man was in her dreams and didn’t exist in her waking reality. In real life, what in the world would a hunk like that want with a homely little bookworm like her?
He cradled her chin in his hand and lifted her face to meet his smoldering gaze. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across hers and traced his fingers along her cheek. With a velvet touch, he tasted her upturned mouth, lingering as though she were a tempting treat to be savored.
She never tired of the scent of him, a luscious combination of the essence of pine, the sea, and aroused male. Nessa inhaled deeper as she released herself to him.
Leaning into his arms, she molded herself against him. She relished the heat of his hardened body. She starved for his touch, every nerve ending heightened, waiting for his exploration. From his rippling muscles to his velvety skin, she ached to devour him, to enfold him with all of her senses.
He deepened his kiss, his unrelenting mouth opened hers, demanding complete possession. He closed his embrace, then slid his hands down her back, pulling her body hard against his erection, rock hard and straining against her belly. There was no doubt of what was to come.
His lips seared a trail down her throat and suckled her tingling breasts. Her knees grew weak. Her mind wasn’t interested in maintaining her balance but in the delights caressing her body. Nessa’s knees buckled; she would’ve collapsed had he not caught her up in his arms and lowered her to the ground.
Her breath caught in her throat, lips parted with expectation as his body loomed above her. With painstaking care, he ran his hands up her thighs and gently splayed her legs. As he blew against the dark curls at the vee of her thighs, he fixed her with a heavy-lidded gaze. A smile of satisfaction curled his lips as he watched her breathing quicken. Imprisoning her eyes with his own sultry stare, he traced his fingertips down her inner thighs. As he lowered his mouth, he purred with pleasure and introduced her to the other uses of his skillful tongue. His mouth was pure, unadulterated rapture.
How was it possible for him to ignite so many nerve endings with his inquisitive tongue? Head to the side, she arched her back in ecstasy, burying her hands in his hair. Pulling him tighter into her welcoming heat, she moaned with abandon as he exquisitely tortured her until she thought she would die. Her heart risked exploding from her chest, pounding against her ribs. He suckled her nub into his mouth as he buried his fingers into her greedy depths. Caressing and teasing, he drove her past reason. She was beyond anything but pure sensation.
Nessa shrieked as her body exploded into delightful shards of bliss.
“Nessa! Wake up!”
Nessa grunted as Trish elbowed her in the ribs. Trish glanced around the cabin of the plane before she settled back into her seat.
“Dammit!” Nessa blew her short curls out of her face and struggled to catch her breath. She needed some air. What a dream. Fanning her shirt, she squirmed in her seat. Now she needed to change her clothes.
Trish stretched over Nessa and clicked on the overhead fan. “‘Dammit’ is right. I’m not going to ask what you were dreaming about because me as well as everybody else sitting in coach, and maybe even first class, already knows.”
With a wicked grin as she adjusted the tray table, Trish caught the eye of the flight attendant and motioned for two glasses of water.
Pulling a tissue out of her pocket, Nessa dabbed at the sweat on her face. She accepted the water from the winking attendant and gulped at the welcomed drink.
She glanced around the cabin at all the smiling faces then edged up to Trish with a breathless whisper, “I think I just had my first mind-blowing orgasm.”
ChapterSix
