A Christmas Spirit (9 page)

Love?

She didn’t know, and didn’t want to
try
to know. Not now. All she wanted to do now was to listen to Gabriel’s deep, accented voice wash over her with words she never dreamed she’d ever hear, from anyone.

Especially from someone like Gabriel Munro.

Her fingers itched to grab onto him, pull him to her, and never let him go.

Even though Paige couldn’t really experience the touch of his mouth on her skin, she
felt it
, inside. On the surface, nerve endings tingled, and she knew it was from Gabriel’s spirited energy. Yet in her imagination, she could easily picture and sense his strong lips grazing hers; his tongue brushing against her own; and his mouth moving in slow, erotic kisses over her jaw, her ear, and down her throat. Even his uneven breathing sounded real.

It made her shiver.

It made her
groan
. . .

“Christ, Paige,” Gabriel said, in nearly a growl. “You’re drivin’ me daft, lass.” He pulled back and searched her eyes. “I’ve ne’er wanted so badly to have a woman as badly as I want you.” He shut his eyes, then looked at her. “We’ve got to figure out something else to occupy our time, lass,” he said, although the grin on his face looked strained. “I fear I shall lose control and make a daft fool o’ myself otherwise.”

Paige shuddered at his words, and to be honest, she thought she just might self-combust and make a fool of her own self. She connected with Gabriel so deeply; it was almost as if he truly could touch her. She barely trusted her voice, so she cleared her throat and nodded. “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she asked, “What do you suggest?”

Gabriel’s green eyes turned dark, smoky. One brow lifted, and two dimples pitted his cheeks.

Paige felt her skin grow hot.

Gabriel laughed. “Right, lass. Do you feel up to a midwinter’s walk through the wood? I can only go as far as the Gorloch property line, but there’s another fine path that Craigmire’s wife takes. Afterward, we’ve got to get some food in that growling belly,” he said, pointing at her stomach. “Mayhap then we could watch a movie?”

Paige stared in disbelief. “You watch movies?”

Gabriel shrugged and grinned. “Aye, loads of them. Especially the American movies.
Die Hard
is one of my favorites. Craigmire has quite a collection of fine DVDs.”

Paige looked at him, then burst out laughing.

A sexy smile stretched across Gabriel’s even sexier face. “What’s so funny, lass?”

Paige shook her head and glanced at the roaring fire in the hearth. “Only
I
would stumble across the man of my dreams, only to find he’s a spirit of nearly nine hundred years
and
he watches modern American movies.”

“Is that what I am?” he asked quietly, then lowered his head to catch her gaze. “The man o’ your dreams?”

Paige bravely met his stare. She’d not admit anything else. “Absolutely.”

An indescribable expression—perhaps one of amazement— crossed Gabriel’s face, and then he smiled. It was stunning. “That is by far the verra best Yuletide wish come true, indeed. Come, then. Let’s get you bundled up for our midwinter’s walk before it gets too dark.”

Minutes later, Paige was encased in the thick wool of Craigmire’s coat, two pairs of woolen socks, Craigmire’s Wellies, a scarf, and her thick knitted hat pulled over her ears.

“Ready?” she said, taking the last of the steps down to the great hall.

Gabriel smiled and shook his head. “You look like a wee fairy drowning in a sea o’ wool.” He drew close. “You look a mite more fetchin’ in that woolly than Craigmire does, I’ll warrant,” he said. “Too bad Mrs. Craigmire took her wee coat. ’Twould have fit you perfectly.”

Paige glanced at him. He laughed.

“To the wood?” he said.

With a chuckle, Paige opened the door and stepped out into the frozen Highland air. “Always.”

As they followed the same path they’d taken earlier to pick out a tree, they walked in comfortable silence. Paige’s boots crunching through the powdery snow broke the wintry quiet of Gorloch. It struck her how she made the only noise, and that in another time, Gabriel’s big booted feet would have joined hers in the crunching.

Slowly and as covertly as possible, Paige slipped a glance at the tall Highlander walking next to her. Just as easily as if he were alive and well, he moved with a heavy sort of grace that she didn’t really expect. That long plaid wrapped about his shoulder, hips, and waist and connected by a brooch, and those worn boots that reached his knees—they all seemed as much a part of him as her jeans were of her. His arms and chest were bare and muscular, and his dark hair hung loose and wild below his shoulders. A fine dusting of like-colored dark hair dusted his forearms, and ropelike veins twisted up and around his hands and wrists, all the way up to his biceps and across each shoulder to his chest.

Gabriel Munro was absolutely the most magnificent man she’d ever laid eyes on.

She could hardly believe it.

“Och, how I’d trade me tricks o’ conjurin’ for one o’ mind readin’,” Gabriel said, breaking into her thoughts. “I have a feelin’ I’d fancy what I found.”

Paige gave a nervous laugh and stepped over a snow-l aden branch. “I’m very glad you can’t. I’d be way too embarrassed.”

“Is that so?” he said, chuckling. “ ’Tis too intriguing to let go. Tell me. What were you thinking?”

Paige looked first at her surroundings, and how the grayness of the winter’s day had seeped into the late afternoon. Everything was gray and white, with a splash of dark green from the Scots pines and brown from a pine cone or exposed branch.

“You’re stalling.”

Paige gave a light laugh. “You’re absolutely right, and I’ll keep my embarrassing thoughts to myself, thank you very much.”

“Hmm,” he said as they entered a small clearing. “A lass with a verra strong will. ’Tis a fine quality I admire.” He leaned in close and brushed his mouth close to her ear. “ ’Tis a quality that stirs me.”

Paige knew then she turned the absolute brightest red she’d ever turned.

Gabriel confirmed it with a booming laugh that echoed through the snow-covered pine boughs.

At the clearing, Gabriel pointed out a large rock for Paige to sit on. She did, and he leaned in close to her.

“See you there,” he said, pointing toward a narrow stream. “Be verra quiet, so you dunna scare it off.”

Paige stared through the gray mist and her eyes landed on a Highland stag. Magnificent, shaggy, and red, it stood with its head erect and ears forward, staring into the bramble, awaiting the least small sound. With its black cloven foot, it pawed at the ground then lowered its head to search for a buried blade of grass in the snow.

“Beautiful,” Paige said as she breathed a sigh, intrigued by a wild buck nestled in the loveliest of winter settings.

“Indeed,” Gabriel whispered, very close.

Paige looked up into Gabriel’s eyes and smiled.

After he’d insisted Paige make herself some supper, the wee girl had finally eaten a meal of soup from the pantry and a sandwich made of cheese and bread that she’d fried in butter on the stovetop. Gabriel had shown her Craigmire’s secret hiding place where the old man hid his chocolate-topped digestives from his wife, and Paige had eaten a handful of those, too.

With the teapot full and plenty o’ sugar and cream, they were finally ready to settle down with a movie. Gabriel watched Paige now as she searched the bottom shelf o’ Craigmire’s massive selection on hands and knees, with her delectable little rump in the air.

Gabriel felt as though he’d choke.

“Oh! I’ve never watched this one before,” she said, and sat back on her heels and looked at him. “Have you?”

Gabriel walked over and knelt down. He peered at the selection and grinned. “Och, aye.” He cocked his head. “You’ve never watched
It’s a Wonderful Life
before? ’Tis a tradition—so says Craigmire’s wife.”

Paige rose, clutching the DVD case to her chest. “Yes, I know it is. But I’ve never had anyone to have a tradition with.” She smiled. “Can we watch it?”

Her pleading blue eyes softened him more than he’d ever admit to another soul. Damn, how his kin would roar, had they been around to see how such a wee lass could turn him to porridge with a simple look.

“Paige MacDonald, I would endeavor to do anything you asked, as long as you continued to look at me with such longing in those beautiful eyes.” He smiled. “A tradition is just the first of many things I wish to start with you.”

She stood there smiling at him for several seconds, then turned, removed the DVD from the case, and started the movie. Plopping down in the center of the sofa, she pulled her legs up to her chest and patted the spot beside her. “Come on. It’s about to start.”

She could have verra well said “Don one of the gowns of Craigmire’s wife and dance on the battlements,” and he would have done so, gladly. Instead, he moved to the sofa, sat close to the woman who’d come to mean more to him in a few short days than anyone he’d ever known in his existence, and watched a modern film in which a lanky man named George Bailey learned a very valuable lesson: Be thankful for what you have.

Gabriel knew just what the man felt. Indeed, he was thankful. He’d roam another handful of centuries if it meant finding Paige MacDonald. The wait had been well worth it. He’d never been happier in his life. Or “unlife.”

By the end of the film, tears rolled down Paige’s cheeks. With the back of her hands, she wiped her eyes and looked up at Gabriel. “I loved it,” she said quietly.

I love you
was on the tip of Gabriel’s tongue. Christ almighty, it nearly burned him to keep the words inside that he wished to say so badly. But he feared he’d frighten her off with such an endearment. He had a bloody hard time believing he felt so strongly in such a small amount o’ time. But, damnation, he did. Didna he? Is it truly what he felt? Or was it merely blinding lust that drove him?

He’d wait until he figured it out himself.

“Another?” Paige said, grinning. “I haven’t just sat and watched movies all night in, well, I don’t think I ever have. If I did, I don’t remember it being this much fun.”

Gabriel smiled, and so they did just that. They watched two movies in all, nearly four hours of movie madness. Paige MacDonald was definitely a lass after his own heart. Her verra first choices were some of his favorites. They watched the
The Mummy
followed by
Raiders of the Lost Ark
. Fine Yuletide films, he’d thought. He’d no been verra fond o’ how Paige’s eyes had lightened at the heroes, but he’d given a good, manly scowl, just to let her know of his displeasure.

It had garnered him a tinkling laugh from Paige.

How, though, had a modern girl no’ watched those films, yet he, a twelfth-century warrior, had?

’Twas mind-boggling.

And he was passin’ glad he’d watched them with her first.

But truth be told, he’d had enough movies for one eve. He wanted nothin’ more than to have Paige MacDonald all to himself. So they wandered up to the west tower, to sit before the long windows and stare out into the winter’s night. She’d stopped by her room first and had changed into what she’d referred to as jam- mies, which consisted of baggy red trousers and an even baggier black jumper that buttoned up the front. Both pieces appeared powerfully soft. The one thing Gabriel found himself thanking the saints for was that the top button seemed to have fallen off, leaving a good amount of Paige’s throat exposed.

He’d decided right then to keep his lecherous thoughts to himself. For now, anyway . . .

Paige sat on the window seat, knees pulled to her chest, and a warm wool wrap around her shoulders. They’d turned out the lights, and she’d lit only a few candles. They threw the room into a lovely amber glow, much like Gabriel’s conjured candles. She’d built a small fire in the hearth, just enough to keep her warm.

And the sweetest, sexiest man God ever created—i n any century—sat directly across from her. Staring. At
her
.

It made her insides jump with excitement.

Her face growing warm at the thought, she turned her head and glanced out at the midwinter’s night.

“ ’Tis a wondrously clear sky, aye?” Gabriel said.

Paige nodded and continued to stare. “It is.” A blanket of white covered the lands of Gorloch. A light dusting of snow drifted down in tiny flakes from the sky. “The moon makes everything look a little blue,” she said absently. “It truly is like a dreamy winter wonderland.”

“Aye, ’tis a grand Highland Yuletide moon indeed.”

After a moment of silence, Paige looked up. Gabriel’s gaze penetrated her, and she smiled and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Are you staring at my raccoon eyes?”

He pulled close and peered even closer. “Aye, and they’re turning all sorts of lovely shades.” His brows furrowed. “Are you sure you’re well?”