Emma’s eyes widened. “I…um…see.” Two patches of red flamed across her cheeks as she pushed her tousled curls out of her face. “Thank you, Torin. I think we were both probably just very tired and frustrated earlier. But I do appreciate your apology.”
She had no idea just how frustrated.Torin’s nostrils flared as he forced in a deep breath while his glance wandered one last time across her body. Forcing his gaze back to her face, he backed toward the door. “I’ll leave ye to your sleep now. Rest well, little Emma.”
Emma stared at the door as it slowly closed, and the latch clicked into place. No one had ever called herlittle Emma.Straightening her legs beneath the cloying sheets, she pushed the bedclothes away from her body. The room suddenly seemed overly warm. How long had he been in the room, watching over while she slept? She rubbed her arms, remembering the strengthof his embrace and the cloak of warmth and safety she’d felt while cradled against his chest. Plucking the exploded case files off the bed, she forced the memory from her mind. It didn’t matter how good he’d felt. Tomorrow, he’d be gone.
Chapter
Fourteen
Emma stared at the coffee maker. She drummed her fingers atop the cracked tiling of the countertop, willing the black liquid dripping at an irritatingly slow drizzle to flow into the pot a little faster. Massaging the corners of her burning eyes, she leaned against the counter. It had been a long night and sleep had been elusive. Thoughts of Torin lying in the next room had tensed her into a frustrated ball of pent-up emotions. By the time morning finally dawned, her emotional energy had reduced to a weary flicker.
Prying open her puffy eyes, she glanced into the sitting area of the croft. Where was he anyway? The worn leather couch sat empty and cold in front of the hearth. Unused blankets lay folded across the pile of pillows stacked against one sagging armrest.
She stole a cup of coffee before the pot finished brewing with a sweeping balancing act she’d perfected in med school. She grinned as she pulled back a filled cup of coffee without spilling a drop. She still had the gift.
As she sucked in a sip of the rich, dark brew, she closed her eyes as the burning liquid swirled inside her mouth. Ahh…That hit the spot.It was times like these that she understood theelusive bliss a drug addict sought when fighting for the burn of that long awaited fix. Another gallon or two of this stuff and she just might make it through the day.
Her eyes flew open as the creaking hinges of the heavy oak door groaned in protest at being disturbed. Torin stomped into the croft, shaking water from the plaid he’d draped above his head. “The gale wind still blows. The rain shows no sign of stopping.”
Emma cupped her hands tighter around the scalding hot mug, hoping the heated ceramic baking her palms would take her mind off the glistening expanse of Torin’s damp chest. Her thoughts whirled, addled by a sudden flash of heat below her waist that begged for immediate attention. “D-Do you want a cup of coffee while you dry out by the fire? You look soaked to the skin.” She swallowed hard and spun to face the still gurgling coffee pot. She had never come across a man built like Torin. Her palms itched to touch that shimmering wet torso and smooth the moisture away.
Water spattered against the wood flooring as Torin shook it from his body. Stealing another glance over one shoulder, Emma caught her breath at the sight of the damp kilt clinging to the corded muscles of his thighs.Lord have mercy. Please don’t let him bend over any farther. No. Change that request. Please LET him bend over just a little farther.Emma caught her lower lip between her teeth as Torin draped his plaid across the low-slung drying rack standing beside the fire.
“Coffee? What is coffee?” Torin turned from the hearth, slaking the remaining water off the bulging planes of his muscled arms.
Emma peered closer at the confusion registered on Torin’s face. He wasn’t joking about the coffee either. From the curious expression on his face, the man really didn’t know what it was. Pulling another cup off the hook by the sink, Emma filled it halffull. Should she add sugar or give it to him black? Sometimes coffee could be an acquired taste.Nah.She wouldn’t dilute the flavor. Either he’d like it or he wouldn’t. “Here you go. Be careful. It’s very hot.”
Torin watched Emma over the rim of the white ceramic mug as he slurped in a hesitant sip of the steaming black liquid.
Emma hadn’t seen such a disgusted look on someone’s face since Laynie gagged on the meal of fried beef liver and onions that Emma had attempted to prepare.
Torin most definitely didnotlike coffee. His mouth pulled down into a repulsed sneer as he spit the liquid back into the cup. Wrinkling his nose as though he smelled a detestable odor, he shoved the mug back toward her. “It tastes as foul as dank bog water. Why would ye drink such wretched swill?” He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, scowling at the cup as though it held poison.
“Well, for one thing, the caffeine gives me a jump start when I’m kind of draggy from lack of sleep.” Emma rescued the cup from his outstretched hand while she took another appreciative sip of her own robust-flavored brew. “I take it they didn’t serve coffee wherever you’re from?”
“No.” Torin shook his head and licked his lips. “They knew better than to bring such swill into the hall. Mead, ale, or something stronger was ever at the ready when the weather was particularly bitter. If any in the keep happened to be unwell, old Graena brewed up a vile-tasting herbal tea. But even one of the old woman’s tisanes couldna rival the taste of that poison.” Torin swiped his hand across his mouth again, still eyeing the cup as though it held something evil. “Douse that mess and give me back the cup. I’ll manifest a drink of my own.”
Manifest? What the heck did he mean by that? Emma glanced down into the steaming cup, then raised her gaze to Torin’s. Had she truly brought an insane man into her house?She splashed the contents into the sink, then cradled the cup against her chest. “What exactly do you mean by manifest?”
Holding out his hand, Torin nodded toward the cup. Dark brows knotted over his intense stare while he flicked his fingers in a summoning motion. “Hand me the cup, little Emma, and I will show ye what I mean.”
Emma slid the cup onto the counter between them. If he wanted the cup, he could come and get it.
“Fine.” Torin rolled his eyes and exhaled an irritated huff. “I can fill the cup from here just as well.” Fixing the cup with a focused stare, Torin nodded once in the direction of the mug and his blind eye narrowed for a brief moment.
Emma gasped as steaming red liquid rose to the rim of the white ceramic mug. Her skin tingled as the eeriness of the unknown suddenly filled the room with a cloying, threatening presence. She rubbed against the gooseflesh puckering across her arms. How had he done that? Leaning over the cup, she gingerly sniffed at the steam swirling above the ruby contents. The spicy sweetness of cinnamon and cloves blended with the tang of fermented apple. More spices, some she couldn’t quite place, tickled across her senses. Pulling in a deeper breath, Emma picked up the faintest nuance of the ripest grapes.
“How did you do that?” She raised her head and locked eyes with Torin’s watchful gaze.
“I am a stone guardian. I am one with the planes of all energy. I can do many things.”
Emma’s voice died in her throat. Her tongue felt dried as a cotton ball as she clamped her lips together. “I don’t believe in magic,” she finally choked out. “I only believe what I can see and touch.” She swallowed against the uneasiness pounding through her chest. Her heart battered a panicked rhythm against her ribs. Falling back against the solidity of the counter, she wentslack-jawed as Torin lifted the mug to his lips and drained it of its contents.
As the empty cup clattered against the marble of the counter, Torin riveted his gaze toward the amulet resting on Emma’s chest. “If ye troubled yourself to learn to connect with the energies, magic would answer your commands as well.”
No. It couldn’t be true. There was no such thing as magic. Only science existed. Made everything she knewexplainable.“I am not like you. Whatever it is you said you are.” Emma clenched the stone of her necklace tighter until the engraved edges of the disc bit into her flesh. Something had to be done about Torin. Things had just gotten moreunexplainablethan she was prepared to handle. “I think you need help, Torin, but I don’t know how to give it. It would be best if you found a place to go while I’m at the clinic today. You can’t stay here anymore.” Tensing against the solid edge of the countertop, Emma fought against the pain and loneliness flashing across his face. This entire situation had escalated beyond strange. As far as she was concerned, the skin-tingling weirdness of the morning rescinded any obligatory hospitality Emma might owe the strange man. She wanted him gone and wanted the rest of her stay on the Isle of Lewis to settle into the frustrating simplicity of twenty-four hours ago.
“Where am I to go, little Emma?Cailleach na Mointeachended my stasis and brought us together. Hear me when I tell ye, she willna be denied.” Torin folded his arms across his chest, the dark tattooed muscles of his forearms rippled as he clenched his hands stop his arms.
