His body replete, he laid abed a long while,his thoughts on Veronica. He had spent the day watching her everramove rather than training his men—again. When she had neared thescreen, he had felt ‘twas the time to finally speak with her. Hehad been practicing his future-English with Victor every morn for afortnight. He grunted. His future-English was not so good.Thankfully, Veronica was learning Gaelic with more success becausetalking to her, getting to know her person…
‘Twas wondrous, that. He was unaccustomed tospeaking so freely with anyone, much less a female. His guard hadfelt more than a wee bit lowered with her. The experience was asdiscomfiting as it was heady. Her attention on his person hadforced his heartbeat to quicken in a way he’d never afore known. Hedinna ken what to make of that.
He'd continued watching her through the AIscanner even after their conversation had ended. Everything aboother fascinated him. Mayhap ‘twas her beauty. Mayhap ‘twas thenovelty of espying upon a wench so far into the future. Mayhap‘twas simply her. He chose not to dwell on it.
‘Twas after she stood under the waterfall,touching and rubbing herself until she burst, that Lachlan couldtake no more. He’d quickly returned the scanner to Victor aforemaking his way back to his bedchamber and finding his owncompletion. Which brought him to where he now lay, his breathing atlast returning to normal.
The wench was bewitching, yet he couldscarcely wait to speak with her again. He could but pray thisobsession left him soon for he needed to be training with the Gunnwarriors rather than leaving all of the work to Ramsay and Finn.They were fine warriors to be sure, but they were not Lachlan. Hewas laird here because of his battling skills and he needed toreturn to his duties the soonest.
His clan depended upon him. His warriorsdepended upon his training. Those were facts he couldna and wouldnatake for granted.
The next morn, preparing to go train hismen, he couldna resist the lure of speaking to Veronica first.Taking the AI scanner from Victor, he vowed to himself as hecarried it to his bedchamber that he would resume his duties afterone more wee conversation. Ever the possibility, the Gunn warriorsneeded to be ready to fight the bastard Campbells at all times. Thesurly, old Campbell laird was no threat to Lachlan, yet he took torabble-rousing everra now and again. Mayhap to remind the Highlandshe was still fierce, old mon or no. ‘Twas bothersome, but notworrisome. Still, he preferred his warriors to always remain inexcellent fighting shape.
When at last the scanner focused in onVeronica, his heart took to beating faster. This feeling must havebeen what accounted for his sire’s tendency to spoil his mum withtrinkets and baubles whilst he’d lived. There was naught the womanasked for that he dinna willingly give.
Veronica was dressed in her fierce warriorattire again, her body adorned with shiny black braies that felljust below the navel and a shiny black shirt that fell just aboveit. Her long, silken curls pooled about her shoulders, flowing downto mid-back. Her cat-like, emerald eyes were gleaming. She lookedwell rested and nigh unto glowing like an angel.
He resisted the urge to raise a palm to hisforehead. The wench was driving him to fanciful thoughts. Lachlancouldna let her weaken him, though his deceased sire would like asnaught insist she was strengthening him instead.“You will kenyou have wed the right lass,”he’d once said,“when you feelweaker around her and stronger whilst protecting her and the clan.Your desire to safeguard her will have no bounds.”
“Good morning, Lachlan.”
Her smile was warm, welcoming, and bluidydisarming. Damn it all, he couldna help but to smile back.Leastways, a wee bit. “Good morn, Lady Veronica.”
“How are you today?”
Her knowledge of Gaelic was progressingverra rapidly. Even Veronica’s accent had tempered somewhat. Howwas that possible in one eve’s time? “I am well, lass—verra wellnow that I am speaking to you.” Aye, she was weakening him whilstin her presence.
“It is sweet of you to say that.” Her nosewrinkled. “And, no, that is not an insult either.”
His bedamned heart kept racing. He wished hecould pull her through the screen and into his embrace. “The seasare being kind?”
“Very. It rained last night, but only softlyand briefly. Today there isn’t a cloud in the sky. It’s beautifulhere.”
Lachlan inclined his head. “You arepreparing to practice your, uh…”
“Kalari,” she cut in. “It’s a battletechnique way older than you are.” She grinned. “Seeing as howyou’re over nine hundred years old in my time, that’s saying alot.”
He smiled. His gaze memorized her face, herexpressions, her everrathing. “Mayhap you will teach it to me thesoonest.”
“I’d enjoy that. Perhaps I will.”
They both stood in silence for a prolongedmoment, each of them assessing the other. Lachlan dinna ken whatshe thought of him, but Veronica was all he thought aboot. “Youlook well rested. I pray you have eaten well this morn too?”
“I have. Victor spared no expense instocking the boat. It’s a nice feeling not having to worry aboutwhere my next meal is coming from.”
Veronica had endured much—too much. He dinnawish to leave their conversation, yet he recognized his duty. “Imust train my men this morn,” he announced. “I would speak with youagain verra soon.”
Her head cocked to the side. “I would enjoythat.”
“Dinna think the worst if I am absent a fewdays. I must ride to the borderlands, to where Gunn and Campbelllands meet, and patrol with my warriors for a time.”
“I see.”
Was he being wishful in his thinking or hadthe news of his impending leave-taking caused her face to fall awee bit? Lachlan decided he was being fanciful.
“Are they giving you trouble?” sheasked.
“Not really. I just have to remind them whois the stronger warlord everra now and again.”
