The Pleasure Master (28 page)

“I would know how ye make this thing fly.”

“You can take it apart when we get back to the
cave.” Kathy guided the helicopter to earth, then started to repack the toys she'd brought while Ian went for his horse.

Ian seemed strangely quiet as they all piled onto the horse and started the long walk home. Just when Kathy had decided she couldn't take one more second of silence, Ian spoke.

“Why did ye say Fiona was fat when she isna fat?”

That's right, Ian. Pussyfoot around what that incredible fantasy did to both of us.
“It's one of the arrows-to-the-heart insults every woman hates. I guess you'd have to be a woman to understand.” Truth wouldn't be denied. “Actually, Fiona is beautiful.” Ugh. She hated admitting things like that.

Peter's lights flashed. “Picture a girl who took a nose dive from the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.”

Kathy laughed and hugged Peter. “
Saving Private Ryan
. Great, Peter. Thanks for the loyalty. I love you, too.”

Ian frowned. “Ye love this toy?”

“He isn't a toy, you know.” She thought for a moment. “He isn't always good, and I know he's responsible for my being here, but . . . he makes me laugh.” Now that made a whole lot of sense.

“Aye.”

They plodded along in silence again.

Finally, Ian drew in a deep breath.

Kathy closed her eyes.
Here it comes
.

“I'm sorry.” His gruff apology seemed dragged from him.

“For what?” She wasn't going to make it easy for him.

“For forcing ye into my fantasy. I wouldna have done it if I could have thought of another way.”

With Peter and Malin sitting in front of her, she couldn't hug Ian, so she drew her fingertip down the middle of his spine, then let her hand rest on the top of his hip. His muscles clenched.

“I enjoyed the fantasy, Ian.” Wow, no kidding. She'd wanted to heave Fiona out the door, then explore every inch of Ian's wonderful body.
And what else did you want to explore, hmm?
“You couldn't
force
me into a fantasy I didn't want.”

“I could. Think of yer bandit fantasy.”

Now she was getting mad. “I was responding to
you.
”

“Ye were responding to the Pleasure Master.”

She heard the stubborn note in his voice that indicated nothing she said would change his mind. Interesting. It was almost as though he thought of Ian Ross and the Pleasure Master as two different men. This was important stuff, but she'd think about it later. There was something else she wanted to know.

“Why did you need me in your fantasy?”

He shifted in the saddle, and Kathy had the feeling he didn't want to answer.

“Fiona wouldna believe me if my body didna show desire for her.”

Kathy frowned. Body? Show desire? Oh! She smiled. “Uh, could you make that a little clearer?”

“God's teeth!” He hunched his shoulders and
Kathy's smile widened. “I could only grow hard wi' thoughts of ye. Is that clear enough for ye?”

“I make you hard?” What an . . . energizing thought.

“Ummph.”

She'd take that as an affirmative. “Here, you hold Peter and Malin for a while.” Not giving him a chance to argue, she made the exchange.

Then she slid forward until she was pressed against his back. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her head between his shoulder blades. Her eyes started to drift shut, the warm male scent of him triggering heated memories of the cottage, his body.

Don't even think about it. This would not be a good thing to do.
But she was thinking about it, and she was going to do it.

Hoping that Ian thought her hands were slipping because she was falling asleep, she slid her fingers low on his stomach, then paused.

She heard Ian's soft laugh. “I think I've given ye a weapon I shouldna have given ye. If ye want to test yer power, dinna be shy about it.”

He placed his hand over hers then guided her fingers beneath his plaid to lie warm against his skin. Slowly, he slid her hand up the inside of his hard, smooth-muscled thigh. He removed his hand and she knew she'd have to take the final step.

Knowing her fingers shook, but unable to control them, she settled her hand over his sex.

And stopped thinking. She
always
thought. In-your-face one-liners when she was scared or upset.
Warm fuzzy thoughts for friends and family. Analytical thoughts mixed with the previous two when she was working, depending on whose hair she was doing. But she
always
thought. Now, her mind was like Mr. Winston's head—bald except for a few wispy strands around the edge.

Oh, but she could
feel
—emotions, Ian's hot male flesh filling her hand, growing hard, pushing against her palm. The emotions were new, raw. Too new to understand, too sensitive to examine in the strong light of reason. And so she concentrated on his arousal—the size of it, the strength. Imagined it deep inside of her, stretching her. Knowing that he would make her . . . happy.

Kathy didn't want him to make her happy. She didn't want to know joy in this place because she didn't belong here, didn't want to take any ghosts with her when she returned home.
Too late
. She closed her eyes completely and slid her fingers the length of his erection, marveled at its smoothness, traced a tentative line around—

He inhaled sharply a second before he pushed her hand from him. “'Twould be upsetting to Peter and Malin if I dropped them on their wee heads, but if ye keep touching me so, I willna have a choice.”

She didn't open her eyes as she settled her hand around his waist, then smiled. It felt like Madonna's “Material Girl” smile, equal parts of wicked anticipation and sensual promise. In all her New York life, she'd never known she could smile like that.

Soon, Ian Ross. Very soon.

“Ye might wish to stick something in yer ears, lass. I think Peter readies himself to speak on the matter.” His muttered suggestion sounded resigned.

Kathy pictured Peter's amber lights flashing.

“To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love, but then one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To be happy is to love, to be happy then is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy, therefore to be unhappy one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness. I hope you're getting this down. . . .”

“Love and Death?”
She wasn't sure, but she knew there was only one way to escape Peter.

She slept.

There were dreams, and then there were
dreams.
And they didn't get much better than last night's.

Kathy lay with eyes closed, listening to Neil's voice as he gave Coco today's new and updated rundown of the “wondrous” things he would do to her when they met. Fat chance.

She frowned, trying to remember. No, wait. There hadn't been any dream, it had all been real. The last thing she recalled was her hand on Ian's . . . She opened her eyes and smiled. That memory was almost enough to keep her hot and bothered for the rest of her life.

Neil's voice stopped, and Kathy realized he must be finished with his call. She sat up. “Bring the phone over here, Neil. I have to talk to Coco.”

As he handed her the phone, Ian emerged from
the tunnel, his hair still damp. She was a slug. He was up and had already bathed even after what he'd gone through yesterday. He had only a cloth wrapped around his waist, and she was able to see the angry red welt left by Fiona's lash. She wasn't into physical violence, but Fiona had better hope they never met in a dark alley or any other space large enough for Kathy to get in a good swing.

She put the phone to her ear without taking her gaze from Ian. “Coco?” Something flip-flopped inside her at the thought of what she was going to ask her friend. She didn't want to examine the feeling too closely.

“Hey, girlfriend. What's happening in Never Never Land?” The words were Coco's usual irreverence, but the tone held something different. Guilt?

“Have you done something you need to tell me about, Coco?”

There was a long silence.

“Okay.” Coco's admission was a resigned sigh. “This thing is just too strange, so I called the cops in. They've been listening in to the last few calls Neil made. They're listening to this one. Are you going to hang up?”

Kathy thought about it, then quickly dismissed the thought. “I know you're doing what you think will keep me safe, but I'm really fine.” She thought about yesterday. Okay, maybe not so fine. “Besides, it won't do any good.”

“Tell me about it. Their trace came up with nothing, and I think they're all taking personal notes on
Neil's insights into a fulfilled sexual relationship. Talk about embarrassing.”

A horrific idea occurred to Kathy. “They haven't contacted Mom and Dad have they?”

Coco's voice was low, calming. “Yeah, they had to, Kathy. I called your parents and tried to do some damage control, but you might want to call them yourself.” There was a long pause. “I told the police the truth about your going to Scotland to spend time with your man, but that it wasn't like you to just up and leave all your responsibilities.”

Great. Just great. At least Coco hadn't told them the part about her traveling back to 1542, but Coco wouldn't want them to think she was a wacko. “I haven't been kidnapped, and what I'm doing is my own business.” That was for the cops; now for Coco. “Hey, would you look through as many movie quotes on the Net as you can? I'd like you to give me any that have to do with going home.”

“And the point is?”

“Um, we're just playing a game.” She tried to laugh lightly. “Find me
the
one and maybe I'll come home.”

“Right.” Coco's voice indicated she'd gotten the message.

Kathy knew she shouldn't ask this with the police listening, but she had to know. “What's the date, Coco?”

Coco laughed and almost made it sound convincing. “February eighth. You need to come up for air once in a while and pay attention to what's happening. You don't want to miss February fourteenth.
If you don't show up, the police might even suspect your ex of foul play.”

Tempting. “I'll be there.” Her gaze found Peter, and she offered him her where's-my-compactor glare.

She hit End and looked around to see who was paying attention. Ian and Neil were across the room deep in argument over something. Good. Quickly, she punched in her parents' number.
Nothing
. Just dead air. She wasn't really surprised. She'd always believed someone or something was controlling the phone.

Maybe it was for the best. What could she possibly say to Mom and Dad that would calm their fears? Now she had a new reason to get back by the fourteenth. Every day she was away would increase her parents' worry, and Dad's heart wasn't the strongest. Depressed, she turned to put the phone away and gave a small start to find Peter beside her.

“I don't know why you're doing this, but it isn't funny anymore. If I don't go home, people will think I was kidnapped. Mom and Dad are too old for this.” Could you appeal to the conscience of a metal hourglass?

Peter's lights flashed. “I once asked this literary agent what writing paid the best, and he said, ‘ransom notes.' ”

She sighed. “Not funny, Peter.” She was too frustrated to even try to remember what movie the line came from. “Is there a purpose to this whole thing?”

“It doesn't matter if the guy is perfect, or the girl is perfect, as long as they are perfect for each other.”

“Is that supposed to make sense? I mean, are you some kind of time-traveling matchmaker?” She laughed at the whimsy of the idea. “Why would I have to find a man in 1542 when there're millions of men in 2001?”

Kathy stood, grabbed her bath stuff, and then started toward the tunnel. She paused and looked back at Peter. “
Good Will Hunting
, right? How many quotes do you have stored in your little computer brain, huh?”

She continued walking before Peter could scan his hard drive for the perfect put-down.

Kathy washed quickly. The water wasn't freezing, but it wasn't warm enough for soaking. She hoped Neil was still around when she was finished.

Tonight. She would sleep with Ian tonight and make sure no one else would be Pleasure Master. But first she wanted to go to the village with Neil so she could visit Mary. There was something important she needed, and she didn't want to ask Ian.

Drying herself quickly, she hurried back in time to find Neil on his way out. He didn't look happy.

“Wait a minute and I'll go with you. I have some things I want to get from Mary.” Kathy hoped Ian wouldn't insist on going with her. She had to do this alone.

“Dinna take long, lass. I must go home so I may think of new sexual enticements with which to tempt Coco.”

Kathy hurriedly ran a comb through her damp hair. Hmm. Root alert. If she didn't return home soon, she was going to transform right before everyone's eyes. Sort of like a snowshoe rabbit—one minute bright and brilliant, the next brown and dull. No time for makeup. Ah, the joys of the natural look. Also known as Sleeping Beauty's evil twin, Sleeping Ugly. At least she'd blend in with all the other women. Let's hear it for blending.

“Phone sex is fine, Neil, but at some point it'll get a little . . . You know, not
enough
. Besides, someone has to hear Coco say she'll do the deed with you before you can win.” Kathy glanced at Ian. He looked angry, and he wasn't paying any attention to either of them. This should be a topic of interest to him, and he hadn't said a thing when she mentioned going with Neil. Strange.

Neil looked unconcerned. “Our father will return soon. Coco may tell
him
that she agrees.”