Beautiful in My Eyes (4 page)

Three years ago.

Glasgow, Scotland

Famished after a long day of shopping, we stopped in a pub to grab a quick bite before heading back to the bed and breakfast where we were staying. The place had just started
getting busy when this tall, muscular, drop-dead gorgeous man walked up on the small stage with his guitar and started singing. He was amazing! My eyes immediately connected with his and stayed connected for the entire hour. I was glued to my seat. Our food was long gone and my friends had been ready to leave for some time, but their attempts to get me to leave were futile. The Scottish god and I smiled at one another the entire time. It was as if we were the only two people there and he was singing just for me. Little did I know he was the owner of the pub, as well as a few others scattered all over Scotland.

As soon as his set was done, he approached my table. He had looked astounding on stage, but up close he was walking perfection!

He greeted the four of us, but his gaze was still fixed on me. “I'm Julian Mackenzie,” he said, introducing
himself
, and before I could give him my name in return he asked, “Do ye believe in love at first sight, love? Please tell me ye do,
darlin
', because if ye should get up an' leave, ye will be
takin
' ma heart with ye.”

My friends sighed and giggled like
school girls
.

“Really?” I said, smiling.

“Oh, aye. I
cannae
let ye get
awa
' now.
T'would
be the death o me, an' ye
wouldnae
wan'
tha
' on
yer
conscience now, would ye?”

“No, I wouldn't want that.”

“Then we are in agreement. For the sake o ma health, ye must stay
til
I can see ye back safely ta where
yer
goin
', and then ye must promise me the opportunity ta win
yer
heart for ma own.”

“Girls, I think that's our cue,” my friend,
Merrilyn
said. “Good to meet you,” she gushed, ushering the others away from the table. “See you later, Giselle.”

“Giselle, is it?” Julian said, his smile wide. “A bonnie name for a
verra
bonnie lassie.”

My face grew warmer. “Thank you. And you are an
ummm
. . . bonnie
laddie
. . . did I say that right?”

“
Och
, aye. An' I thank ye, Giselle. Now,
gettin
' back ta ma heart, tis at this
verra
moment
beatin
' only for ye, an' if I
donnae
make ye mine, ye may as
weel
bury me because the life will be
bleedin
' right
oot
o me.”

“So, are you saying I would be saving you life?”

“Aye,
tha's
the truth o it.”

I heave a dramatic sigh. “Well, I guess I should do my part in helping to preserve your life.”

He grins. “Aye. I thank ye, fair Giselle.” He held a strong hand out to me and I placed mine in it, basking in the warmth of his smile as he closed his fingers around mine.

And that was it for me. My heart was already his and I hadn't even given him my name. With his lightly-bearded face, brilliant blue eyes, muscular physique, and lush black hair, which was secured in a ponytail, I should have automatically assumed this was a rehearsed come-on, but the intensity of his gaze said it wasn't. We truly claimed one another's hearts that night.

For the rest of my time in Scotland, Julian and I were inseparable. He introduced my friends to some of his male friends and they were occupied for the duration. My days with Julian were wonderful, full of fun, laughter and loving embraces. His kisses were
amazingly-decadent
and completely addicting, and we couldn't seem to get enough of each other. Being with him had shifted my whole world and made everything fall into place.

Julian was beautiful, funny and talented, and I was frequently a recipient of that talent and his hilarious sense of humor. He would sing Scottish folk songs to me and share funny stories. I loved his voice, whether singing or simply speaking. The gentle cadence of his accent was almost soothing at times.

Every night he performed, I was there, at the same table up front, and his eyes were always on me, which earned me some pretty envious stares, sometimes glares. But I didn't mind. Each night he ended with the same song, and always dedicated it to me.

My love is like a red
red
rose
That’s newly sprung in June
O my love is like a
melodie
Thats
sweetly
play’d
in tune
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

My dreams were always pleasant.

“Ye ken, I saw a leprechaun once,” he told me one night after closing up. He sat down at my table and pulled me onto his lap.

“You did?” I grinned, arching a brow. “You saw a leprechaun, here in Scotland?”

“I did in deed.”

“Well, do tell.”

He smiled at the unbelieving smirk on my face. “
Weel
, when I was five years auld, ma
faither
took me on a picnic. I
didnae
remember the name o the place, but I do remember it was bonnie. There were green
rollin
' hills
an'
the sky was so blue. It looked like a scene from a fairy tale.

“I was
sittin
' in the grass
playin
' ma wee guitar when a butterfly flew by. It was
verra
bonnie. The butterfly flew towards a small row o trees
an'
I chased it into the grove. When I cam'
oot
on the other side o the trees, I
couldnae
find the butterfly. It had disappeared.

“I became
verra
sad. Since I
couldnae
find it, I turned ta go back to ma
faither
when I heard this wee voice. I turned
aroun
',
an'
low an' behold, there was a wee leprechaun. He stood
lookin
' up at me with a big smile on his face.”

““Why are ye so sad, child?” he asked me, his big blue eyes a
twinklin
'.

“I wanted ta play with the butterfly,” I said, “But it flew
awa
'.”

“There, there, child,” he said, “I’ll play with ye.” I was so excited. A real live leprechaun wanted ta play with me.”

“Tell me
yer
name, child,” he said.

“Julian.
Wha's
yers
?”

“Ma name is Patrick.” He took o his cap
an'
bowed ta me. Then he taught me some games
an'
we laughed an' played. Pretty soon we sat under one o the trees
an'
he told me stories. Wonderful, fantastic stories, some o which I ken
an'
some I
didnae
. After a while, I started ta yawn. I was tired after
runnin
'
aroun
'
an'
playin
' all those games. He took o his wee green jacket
an'
filled it with shamrocks. Then he
placed it on the grass under the tree for me ta use as a pillow. Even though it
t'was
small,
t'was
the softest pillow I ha' ever felt. Then he said, “Now child, let me tell ye one last story.””

Julian stopped at that point.

“So what happened?” I asked. He had my curiosity peaked.

“I
dinnae
know,” he said. “The next thin' I ken, ma
faither
was
kneelin
' by me under the tree. I ha' fallen asleep there.”