Highland Games (2 page)

“
Are ye ready, Malcolm
MacRobert?” her dry voice crackled, causing Colm to suppress a
shudder. “One day, lad, remember. One day only. My magic willna
hold longer than that.”

Colm nodded, but remained silent. His
whole demeanor had changed since seeing the lass. He still didn’t
understand what the hag gained from this, but he knew she was right
about this lass. He needed her. More, he wanted her. With that
thought foremost in his head, he stepped through the portal the hag
had created. Her laughter unnerved him, but he touched the charm he
wore about his neck and had to force himself not to look
back.

Chapter Two

Piper was pissed beyond belief at
Katie. Like seriously pissed. Like she was going to shave her
eyebrows off her while she slept pissed. Katie had neglected to
tell Piper that it was a singles trip. The amount of men who had
been hitting on her had gone from flattering to obnoxious. They
were just as bad as the Spring Breakers who hit up the hot spots
looking for an easy lay. Piper was so not an easy lay. The last
hour of the bus ride had been awful. All of the American guys but
one or two had taken to wearing kilts and flashing any of the girls
who walked by. Most of the girls giggled, but Piper could only roll
her eyes. After two days of the flirting and touring, Piper was
ready to plead stomach issues and stay inside her room the whole
time. She could download a book to her eReader (thank goodness
she’d had the foresight to bring it with her) and hide.

She wanted to be drinking
a mai tai out of a coconut or a pineapple or some other frou frou
drink. She wanted to be laying on the beach in a tropical setting.
She wanted to be anywhere but on this hot and overbooked bus ride
with a bunch of American horn dogs. Uncrossing her jean-clad legs,
she reached down for her bag and dug out her phone. Katie wanted
pictures so Piper stuffed her phone in her back pocket for easy
access. She would take so many pictures of guys in kilts, even if
it meant getting the hairy old guys.
Take
that Katie
, Piper thought.

Her ride from hell was
finally over when the bus pulled up in front of the surprisingly
beautiful castle that was hosting the Highland Fling or Games, or
whatever this was. Most of the stops on the tour were ruins of
where proud fortresses once stood, rather than the functioning
building she was looking at now. It was Blair Castle in Atholl,
according to the guide. Gazing up at the white walls, Piper stood
in awe. Now this was a fairy tale waiting to happen, a castle that
was fit for a princess. The guide was continuing on about how the
Scottish tug o’ war championship would be one of the highlights of
the Games. A few of the guys in the back of the bus were sniggering
and making rude comments about how Scots playing tug o’ war was
nothing, and how real men wouldn’t play tug o’ war and wear skirts.
Piper sighed and rolled her eyes at their rude comments. She
doubted the smack-talkers in the back would last through a game of
rugby with the Scots. No wonder people hated American tourists. At
the moment, even
she
hated American tourists. Well, the ones she was with
anyway.

“
With surviving
architectural roots going back as far as 1269, Blair Castle is one
of Britain’s oldest continuously inhabited houses. One of the first
private homes in Scotland to open to the public, Blair Castle and
the surrounding estate welcomes more visitors than any other, and
is uniquely placed to help you make the most of the event you are
planning.”

With the tour guide’s voice droning on
in the background, Piper stared in awe at the grand castle. It was
completely white, with a dark trim, and the lands it sat on were
the perfect backdrop for the beautiful building. The grounds were
clipped and manicured around the castle, but not far beyond was a
rugged wilderness that refused to be tamed. For some reason, Piper,
the girl who hated camping, who couldn’t stand hiking, who lived to
surf, wanted to go explore the woods. She was getting really
excited to get off the bus.

Everyone filed off the bus like a slow
moving herd of cattle. Push, shove, shuffle, shuffle. It was a long
time coming, but Piper finally stepped off the bus and took a full
breath of lovely spring air. It was crisp, fresh, and had Piper
tipping her face to the sun with a small smile playing about her
full lips.

The feeling of someone watching her
stole the joy of the moment. Piper’s eyes snapped open and she
turned toward the obvious culprits-the jerks from the bus, but no,
they’d found some lovely Scottish lass to focus their dubious charm
on. Piper turned in a slow circle, her eyes scanning the area.
Nothing stood out as unusual, and no one was overtly staring at
her. Weird. Shaking it off and determined to at least enjoy the
Highland Games, Piper was off to take pictures of hot guys in kilts
for Katie.

* * * *

Stepping through into another time
should be monumental, or life-altering, or earth-shattering. But
walking into a copse of trees was nothing special, and a wee bit
underwhelming. Colm stalked out to the edge of the tree line and
stared out at Blair Atholl. It hadn’t changed much, and it looked
as if the hag had been correct in the date of the Games at least.
Colm began his walk down the hillside and stopped once he got to
the edge of the woods. He stood staring at the unbelievable sight
before him.

The woman he’d come seeking was not
far from him at all. Once the smelly and large coach-like
contraption rumbled off, he had a better view of her, and she was
just as lovely as he remembered. He was both thrilled to have found
her so easily, and unnerved by how accurate the old hag had been.
He wondered once again what the witch would gain from this
excursion?

It was too coincidental, too perfect.
His clan needed him, and the one woman who could help was here, at
this Highland Games so far from his own time. But he had no other
choice, he refused to fail his laird. Colm surveyed the modern
Games yet kept his eye on the woman. He had no idea of her name,
but he had fair skill with the lassies. Surely it wouldn’t fail him
in this time, with this lass?

Decided, Colm strode forward only to
find the lass was walking towards a group of men readying for a
caber toss. What was she thinking, going up to a group of men?
Whatever she said to them made them laugh and they all pulled their
shirts off. What in the bloody hell…

Seething for no reason he could
pinpoint, Colm stalked closer until she turned around and her eyes
landed on him.

“
Hi!” She offered him a
warm smile. Colm’s heart stuttered. Then she offered him her hand.
No, wait, it wasn’t her hand he clasped, but a small silver object
instead.

“
Would you take a picture
of us? All you have to do is press this button right here.
Thanks!”

Colm pressed the button, and blinded
himself with a light. Blinking furiously, he saw her turn back to
him and she held it up to the men wearing naught but their plaids.
Her fingers tangled with his for a brief second, then she pressed
the button capturing an image of the men, and she said, “Cool, hold
it right there, now can you take a picture of me with
them?”

Before he could respond, she had
jogged back to the men and one of them lifted her so the others
could each put their hands on her holding her so she lay across
them all while he helplessly looked on. Some of those men had their
hands on her arse. And her stomach. And her thighs. God help him he
was furious. Grinding his teeth, he pressed the button and the men
put her down, one of them lingering nearby. Colm walked over to her
and stood right beside her, closer than the other man. The other
man ignored him, and continued speaking with her.

“
So Piper, what brings a
lovely American lass such as yourself to our humble Highland
Games?”

Her laugh was musical. “Oh, you know,
I heard there would be men in kilts, how could I say
no?”

Was she a piper? This man
had called her
piper
. Colm had to join this conversation before he lost his
chance.

“
Here you are,
Miss…”

“
Oh, thanks, and thanks
for taking the picture. So what about you? Wanna take off your
shirt so I can send pictures back home?”

Colm blinked. She wanted
him to take his
leine
off? He smiled a slow smile and reached behind his head to
grip the soft material of his shirt.

* * * *

Piper could hardly breathe
as this gorgeous god in a kilt pulled his shirt off revealing the
most chiseled, sculpted abs she’d ever seen in real life. That
devilishly sexy smile he wore made her want to drop her panties
right there at his feet, an offering to the sex god he was.
Oh please don’t let me drool
was the only coherent thought she had as she lifted up the
camera, her other shirtless men forgotten, and snapped several
pictures of the sex god.

“
Who are you?” she
breathed.

“
I am Malcolm MacRobert.”
He’d picked his shirt up and was walking toward her. He was much
taller than she was, which was, well, it was intimidating. All the
tall guys she knew were more on the lanky side, but this man was
built like a man who worked hard for a living. He kind of reminded
her of a construction worker, or maybe a blacksmith of old, or. . .
holy cow, with that sword he was sporting he could be a
warrior.

“
Is, uh, is your sword
real?”

There was that slow and devilish smile
again. “Aye, lass, it’s verra real.”

“
Wow! It’s so big, can I
touch it?”

He choked on a laugh. “Och, ye meant
my claymore. Aye, lass here ye go.” He held it out to her
one-handed, yet Piper had to grip it with both hands to prevent it
from hitting the ground. His hands landed right on top of hers,
though to help her keep it up.

“
You make it look so
easy,” Piper grumbled as he slid one arm around her so that he
caged her in, and had her hands trapped beneath his.

“
I train verra hard,
lass.” God, that voice of his. He could read her the ingredients to
a can of soup and she would be happy for life. Or she’d do
something embarrassing like faint from the decadence of his deep,
sexy voice. He was taking her through the motions of swinging the
sword diagonally when one of the jerks from her tour
noticed.

“
Hey, Piper! Is this guy
bothering you? Dude, get your hands off the lady.”

“
Shut it, Doug,“ Piper
growled at him.

His laugh was nasty. “Piper, sweetie,
I don’t think you understand. These guys are all here just to take
advantage of sweet, naïve tourists, like you.”

She narrowed her eyes on Doug. Did he
want to add a little head pat with that condescending tone of his?
“Seriously?” Piper pushed at Malcolm’s arms to step free, but he
tightened his grip around her. Shooting him an irritated look, she
broke free and stepped up to Doug, poking him in the chest. “Like
you haven’t been chasing everything in a skirt since you got
here?”

Doug’s eyes shifted from Malcolm to
Piper, as if he were shocked that she didn’t just meekly prance up
to him and bat her lashes in feminine gratitude. But he did press
her hand flat against his chest, and step right into Piper’s
personal space.

“
Get out of the way Piper,
this guy needs to be taught some manners.”

“
Like you’re going to
teach
anyone
manners,” she snorted under her breath, pulling her hand
free.

“
Aye, Piper, stay behind
me, lass.”

Oh, hell no!
Sexy Guy was so not going to tell her what to do
either.

“
You idiots can beat the
crap out of each other for all I care. I’m not going to stay to
watch.” Piper stomped off to the drink tent where the guys from
earlier were hanging out.

Giving them her most winsome smile,
Piper greeted the group. “Hiya boys, can I buy you a
round?”

As the cheer went up for free beer,
she purposely turned her back on Doug and Malcolm and pretended to
ignore them.

* * * *

Colm was irritated that this young pup
had caused him to lose Piper. And that she had gone to sit with the
men drinking ale, and ogling her body in her tiny scraps of cloth.
Once again, Colm wondered what kind of men allowed their women to
dress like that. She wore naught but hose of some kind, or
breeches, and a cropped shift that landed at her hips. The damned
thing was sheer and he could see whatever the garment was that she
wore beneath. Wanting nothing more than to get to Piper, Colm
rounded on the man who dared challenge him.

Baring his teeth, he snarled,
“Well?”

“
Whoa dude. Chill. Just
leave Piper alone and we’re cool.”

This
boy
wanted him to leave Piper alone?
He couldn’t even if he wanted to. Which, as it turned out, he
didn’t. Colm wanted Piper back in his arms, he wanted her pressed
up against him, he wanted her beneath him. Colm
wanted
.

His eyes strayed to Piper, laughing at
something one of the men had said to her. She was beautiful with
her long blonde hair lifted in a slight breeze, her lips turned up
in a smile. . . and that was when Doug hit him.