She let her eyes drift down the length of his kilt. She liked that it was the old-fashioned kind. Sexy as all get-out. Although she was sure this particular Scot hadn’t the slightest clue of his effect on women.
On her.
Even her untrained eye could tell he wasn’t a modern ‘city Scot’. No, Reginald McColl seemed to have walked straight out of the history books, right down to his tarnished brooch, worn leather belt, and sporran. Maybe his raw, rugged appearance came from a specialized military group, or perhaps, just his personal preference. Whatever the reason, it suited him.
Though both were kilt-wearing Scotsmen, Reggie’s appearance was so far removed from Aunt Phoebe’s husband, Crayton’s, the two men could have been born centuries apart. However, Lauren knew nothing of individual clan customs, so perhaps that accounted for such marked differences.
Her fascination with Reggie, puzzled her. It was more than just his looks. She knew all sorts of handsome men but had learned early they were often nothing more than window dressing. But Reggie? She sensed a rare kindness and honesty in him that she found very compelling.
Of course, she wasn’t fool enough to believe this interlude was anything more than a serendipitous bubble in time that would pop, come morning. Certainly, in the light of day, when she was back in the real world, she would feel entirely different. She shifted, determined to place her attention on anything but the man beside her.
Focus on something else, Lauren. Think about the disabled rental car and how muchthiserror in judgement might cost. And the long, dubious walk ahead, before there would be any hope of finding help. Not to mention the lengthy explaining she’d have to do, with her family.
She closed her eyes, praying her aunt, or her sisters, hadn’t alerted her parents. Dad, raging about her lack of consideration from atop his soapbox a continent away, was the last thing she needed. Or worse, pulling strings as only he could do, to enact a swift and efficient rescue, despite having no information on the situation.Controlwas the compass her father used to steer his, and his family’s lives. She could almost hear his commanding voice in the stillness;If you don’t have control, get it! It’s the only tool you’ll ever need if you learn to wield it, correctly.
Weary of her father’s manipulations in order to controlher, Lauren had worked hard to build an independent life. Independent wealth. Well, maybe she couldn’t call it wealth just yet, but she wasn’t going hungry, either.
She had an incredibly busy and, for the most part, satisfying life. At least she hoped to, now that she’d ripped Benjamin Howell from her life, like a soiled bandage. Although New York’s tight social circle, and her parents, wouldn’t make that easy to maintain, at least Ben’s pretenses couldn’t fool her, anymore. And she couldn’t pretend not to know better.
The timing to come to Scotland and help Aunt Phoebe couldn’t be better. Lauren needed some space to reestablish her focus. She had a book due soon, and it would require all the focus she had to get through the interviews and research she still needed to do.
But tonight, those worries resided in a different world, far from this warm fire, breathtaking sky and the fascinating man, beside her. Would it really hurt to fantasize just a little?Yes, she sighed. What would be the point? Reggie would be gone in the morning to follow his own path, whatever that might be. By his own admittance, he didn’t even have a job to go to. Granted, he’d just closed out a significant military chapter of his life, but still…he was adrift.
Oddly, she couldn’t imagine Reginald McColl anywhere but right here, in this spot, like a forgotten artifact from the past. He absolutely didn’t belong in a city. She smiled, picturing him walking down Wall Street. He’d turn heads for sure, but not for the same reasons he’d turned hers.
Lauren knew whenever she thought of him in the days to come, she’d picture him striding boldly through that rushing water, toward her. Strong. Determined. Unafraid. Gorgeous. She’d have to settle for him as a delicious memory. Nothing more. They were like oil and water, and she had no delusions about trying to mix them. No matter how successful a temporary blend might be, by nature, they would ultimately separate.
So, she’d settle for tonight, this unique experience, and the company of the fascinating Scotsman stretched out beside her. And tomorrow? Tomorrow, she’d step out of this time-warp, and back into reality.
Where she belonged.
Chapter Five
Reginald finished securing a fresh compress on Lauren’s ankle, but the lass dinnae wake. He’d already watched her shiver and slowly lose the battle to stay awake, for several heart-wrenching minutes. He couldnae take any more.
“Lauren. Come, lass. Let’s get ye settled for the night.”
She made a soft sound of protest he couldnae quite decipher. But still, she slept. Well, then. He’d have to do the best he could, and she’d have to be fine with it. He built up the fire, unpinned the length of his plaid, shook it out, and returned to her side, unsure how to proceed short of man-handling her into place. But what if she woke and mistook his intentions? What if he did even more damage to her ankle?
’Twas no use for it. He’d no’ chance that outcome. He had to wake her.
“Lauren!” His voice was strong and firm as he leaned close. “Ye must wake now. I cannae watch ye shiver any longer. And I cannae simply cover ye and leave ye on the cold ground. I must wrap ye up, tae keep ye warm. Lauren? Do ye hear me, lass?”
Another moan and a slight shift of her shoulders.
“All right, then. Ye cannae say I dinnae warn ye.”
He slid his arms beneath her and eased her onto his lap, mindful of her ankle. Even before he had her settled, she’d snuggled so tightly into his warmth, if he hadnae had the bank at his back, she’d have pushed him over. Her head nestled into his shoulder as her arms snaked around his waist to draw closer.
“Mmmmmm…” She wiggled, settling against him as if they’d been engaging in this exact pose, for years.
Reginald froze. For a second. Mayhap, two. Who was he to dissuade her from her comfort? He tucked her head beneath his chin and pulled the tartan around them both. In less than a minute, the warmth created from their cocoon stilled her shivers and prompted a long pleasurable sigh that feathered his neck, eliciting a shiver of his own.
Laying his cheek atop her head, he wished Soncerae, or Wickham, or even the aunts, Lorraine and Loretta, could make this night last forever. Then, in the same breath, he took it back. He dinnae want Lauren’s affection by magic. He wanted a woman who wantedhim. Openly and intentionally. All on her own.
But that, too, was impossible. At least withthiswoman. Lauren already had a plan for her life and was living it. She dinnae need a scoundrel from centuries past, with no present and no future. There was no place in her life for the likes of him.
Holding Lauren now, like this, was the best he could hope for. And far more than he deserved.
