Duchess of Mine (43 page)

“I love your eyes. When we make love, you
look into my eyes—”

“Because I love yer eyes too.”

She smiled. “I love it when you look at me
like that when we’re making love. It’s as if we become the only two
people in the world.”

“For me,” his smile widened, “in that moment,
we are the only people in the world.”

Her heart fluttered at the words, at the
sentiment. “I love so many of your parts.”

He kept his smile, but Fleur could feel
tension building throughout his body. The muscles under her
contracted, showing off each of the thick bands of his stomach.
God, that was beautiful.

“But I love this most of all.” She placed a
hand over his thundering heart.

“Ah, my Fleur, my lass, my heart.”

Reaching down, she was about to kiss him when
the door suddenly banged open.

“Wake up, Fleur! There’s something terrible
like blood pudding for breakfast, and—” Rachel’s eyes and mouth
grew wide, taking in Fleur and Duncan.

“Ma?” Duncan tried to sit up.

“Oh my God!” Rachel screamed and covered her
eyes while turning her back. “Oh my God! Fleur! Oh my God!”

“Rachel.” Fleur grabbed the pink comforter
and scrambled off Duncan, who was staring dumbfounded at Rachel.
She winced. “I forgot to tell you that my friend looks like
Helen.”

“Ma,” he whispered, his eyes reddening.

Finally fashioning the bulky comforter around
her, Fleur flew to her friend, needing a hug, of all the damned
times. In the B&B’s hallway she grabbed Rachel from the back
and embraced her. “I missed you so much.”

Rachel quietly chuckled. “Yeah, one night
without me was rough, huh? Real rough, since you took a partner to
bed.” Rachel turned in Fleur’s embrace, her laugh a little louder.
“Oh my God, I love Scotland now. You’re so different here, taking a
man to your bed.”

A door down the hall opened loudly and out
came Ian in a “Paper, Rock, Scissor, Lizard, Spock” t-shirt and
blue pajama pants. “What the hell is my wife screaming about?”

“Fleur’s got a man in her bed. It’s
fantastic.” Rachel giggled.

Ian glanced down the hallway, and Fleur
followed his gaze. There stood Duncan, luckily with a sheet wrapped
around his waist, staring at Rachel. He wore a pink sheet, looking
completely at odds with the huge man of her heart. He was muscle
and scars and imposing height, clad in a pink, frilly thing, making
him adorable.

“Hi,” Rachel said and tried to remove herself
from Fleur’s hold, but Fleur wouldn’t let go, so Rachel shook
Duncan’s hand around her. “I’m Rachel, Fleur’s friend. And that
handsome devil gawking at you is my husband, Ian. Want some
breakfast soon? Maybe after you and Fleur are done with your...not
that I saw anything...Jeez,” she looked at Fleur, her eyes
widening. “You’re a naughty girl here, huh? Not that I’m judging.
I’m loving it actually.”

She glanced at Duncan and wagged her dark
brows a few times at Fleur, giggling yet again.

“Ah, hi,” Ian said gruffly, extending his
hand out to Duncan, who absent-mindedly shook it, almost the whole
time never taking his eyes off Rachel. Ian leaned toward Rachel and
Fleur, whispering, “Why is he staring at my wife?”

Fleur loved the edge of possessiveness in
Ian’s voice, having never heard it before. Something about it made
her all the more happy. “You look a lot like his mom,” she said to
Rachel.

“Oh,” she smiled and nodded at Duncan, then
glowered at her husband. “How old am I getting now?”

“You’re not old, honey.” Ian reassured
her.

“Nay,” Duncan finally said. “Ye remind me of
when she was very young, when I was a bairn.” His eyes
glistened.

“Oh my God, I love his accent.” Rachel turned
to Fleur then immediately back to Duncan. “I love your accent.”

“Thank ye.” He smiled. “Yers is nice
too.”

Rachel chuckled and Ian quietly grumbled
something about damned, handsome Scots.

“Okay, well, alrighty then,” Rachel continued
to laugh. “So let’s have breakfast, and Fleur can catch me up on
how you two met and other details.” She again widened her eyes.
“Not all of them, of course.”

Fleur giggled and held her friend even
closer.

Rachel reciprocated the hug and tried once
more to remove herself, but Fleur held on.

“Sweetie, I love this new affectionate side
of you,” Rachel said, “but you need to let me go. Just for a bit.
We’ll talk at breakfast.”

Slowly Fleur released her, feeling her heart
tug at her ribs as she did so.

“Oh!” Rachel turned back to Fleur. “Ian and I
met the coolest couple last night when you went to bed early, so
you could run your little marathon to Durness.” She leaned close to
Fleur, whispering in her ear. “The Highlander is much better
exercise than an all day run, in my humble opinion.” Then she
straightened and said louder, “Anyway, so she’s American and an
historian from Harvard and he’s British and a psychiatrist.”

“And a neurologist,” Ian added. “I think they
might have more degrees than us.”

Rachel shook her head. “That can’t be. We’re
much more pretentious than they are.”

Ian chuckled appreciatively for his wife.

Then Rachel turned back to Fleur. “They’re
honeymooning. Got rather drunk last night and said something about
deranged Greek muses playing matchmakers for them. But no matter
how weird they are, Ian and I just loved them, and I kept thinking
how you’d like them too, especially Erva, the bride.”

Fleur nodded, her heart skittering at the
reference of muses. But she tried to act nonchalant. “I’m sure I’ll
love them.”

Rachel and Ian walked back to their room,
just down the hall. “Come and get us when you’re ready to eat.”
Rachel looked over Fleur to Duncan. “It’s really nice to meet
you.”

“’Tis an honor to meet ye.”

Rachel then mouthed to Fleur, “He’s
wonderful.”

Fleur nodded with a wide smile.

Rachel then glanced at Duncan again. “I hope
to get to know you better.”

“Oh, you will.” Fleur said. “He’s here to
stay.”

Rachel glanced at Fleur then Duncan, her face
growing more serious, but her eyes still smiled. “Good.” She took a
deep breath. “You have to get dressed and tell me everything.”

That’s when Fleur realized she stood in the
middle of the yellow hallway in nothing but a comforter. “Right,”
she giggled and ran into Duncan, who instantly scooped her into his
arms, and pulled her back into the room, shutting the door
behind.

“She looks exactly like Ma.”

Fleur nodded, wrapping her arms around his
neck, forgetting to hold onto the comforter. “I’m sorry. I should
have warned you.”

“I’m not sure if even a good warning could
have prepared me.” He set her carefully on the bed, the comforter
adrift on the floor. “Remind me from time to time not to stare at
her. I was makin’ her husband angry.”

She couldn’t focus on what he said after
that. His grip loosened on the pink sheet he’d fashioned into a
kilt—maybe even with a few pleats in the back, an amazing habit she
never wanted him to forget. However, the pink kilt lowered,
revealing a small swath of red-brown hair at the base of his
stomach. She giggled.

“What?”

She couldn’t help but blush as she said, “The
carpet does match the drapes.” Her fingertips brushed the hair
under his bellybutton.

He hissed in a breath. “Lord, if that means
what I think it does, then ye’re a saucy wee thing, eh?”

She chuckled. “I think I am.” Her heart felt
larger and warmer than ever before. “I love you, Duncan.”

In one move, he grabbed her waist, lifted her
as he plummeted on the bed, adjusting her to sit on him once more.
“I love ye. I ken, er, know I’ll be very happy here. With ye.”

He’d said very as he always did, verrrah,
rolling his “r.” It thrilled something in Fleur’s stomach.

His smile beamed. “Now, where were we?”

“Did you lock the door?”

“Aye. This time I’d rather not get
interrupted, even by yer Rachel whom I like very much.”

“I’m so glad you do.”

He nodded. “As I was sayin’, where were
we?”

She sat up a little, then began to scoot down
his body. “I was about to fulfill a fantasy of mine.”

He made room for her between his legs as she
wiggled down to his matching carpet, taking his cock in her hand,
her mouth close by.

“This is a fantasy of yers? Or mine?” His
breath came in gulps as she touched him.

“Mine.”

“Lord, I love ye.”

She giggled. “I love you too, you big
Highlander.”

THE END

Catch the latest from the Glimpse Time-Travel
Series,
Cowboy of Mine
, coming in the winter of 2014!!!

A note about
Highlander of Mine

I
abided by a promise to a Scottish
friend of mine and did not write one contraction as “donna,
couldna,” etc. I dinna do it!

My love of Highlanders came long before I
researched for this book. There are so many Highlander novels I’ve
come to love through the years, but when I finally decided to write
my own, I turned to my training and found Dr. Colin Calloway whose
research of early America, Native Americans, and Highlanders is
unprecedented. It was thanks to his research, I wrote this book as
well as several of my more academic papers. My hope is several more
historians will follow his steps in this oft-neglected field of
research.

This book was quite possibly the toughest
manuscript to finish for me but so rewarding. Researching early
America, the Highlands, and Cromwell’s reign amazed me. Of course,
I loved the history, but some aspects of this story broke my
heart.

Please give generously to the American Breast
Cancer Society, the Breast Cancer Research Foundation, or your
favorite breast cancer research organization. Breast cancer has
been present since Greek physicians have been writing
prescriptions. For thousands of years, women and men have fought
for a cure. I pray we find it. Soon.

I love writing about men, exploring their
masculinity and humanity. But one of the best stories about men is
from author and inspirational speaker Brene Brown. At a book
signing, a man asked her why she didn’t write more extensively
about males, since she’s widely known for her research regarding
women and shame and vulnerability. As a woman, she commented that
she didn’t study men. The guy said, “Well, that’s convenient.
We [men] have shame, we have deep shame, but when
we reach out and tell our stories, we get the emotional [bleep]
beat out of us...my wife and three daughters, the ones who you just
signed the books for, they had rather see me die on top of my white
horse than have to watch me fall off." —
http://www.onbeing.org/program/transcript/4932

With this in mind, all of my heroes find
heroines who are strong enough to handle when they climb off their
white horses and live an authentic life. After all, we are just
humans being human.

Lastly, I’d like to acknowledge . . .

All
Apple®
products,
especially the
iPod® and iPhone®

Adidas
®

CamelBak
®

All
Back to the Future
movies

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory

All Disney animates movies

Brene Brown

Gary B. Nash

Colin Calloway

Lana Williams

Nhys Glover

And so many more people! Thank you!

A Note about the Glimpse
Time-Travel Series

O
ften, history is taught with a clear
beginning and end. In a class titled, The History of Western
Civilization, it would usually begin with Homer and might have an
ending around the Industrial Revolution. It is almost always taught
with linear projections—you learn about events in a certain year,
work your way forward, then end so many years in the future.

It wasn’t until I was in graduate school that
I began to learn history by skipping around, much like a
time-traveler would. In order to understand why the Highland Guard
in South Carolina fought so urgently
for
their British
monarch in 1776, one needed to understand why they fought so
bravely
against
that similar monarchy in the Battle of
Culloden just thirty years before. I’d never had more fun than when
I bounced through time, absorbing an event in a particular era to
see it shine through a hundred years later, or understanding one
happening, only to reexamine it through another aspect of time.

When we are taught history with a linear
projection, we see it through the lens of the latter era. I know I
did. I often saw the Enlightenment period through the optics of the
Victorian. But they were vastly different phases of time, often
having varying roles for women, men, and children as well as
diverse social mores. It is when we prance about in time, I
believe, that we can see history more clearly for what it is.

The
Glimpse
Time-Travel series will
jump, dance, and sprint through different eras of time. My greatest
desire is to entertain you, so you feel a resonating similarity
with my characters, and in the end maybe come away from the
experience thinking no matter what the time, no matter the
individuals involved, people have more similarities than
differences, more hope than despair, and more love than hate.

I love hearing from my readers, so feel free
to drop by
www.redljameson.com