The Summons
The Summons
by
Jo Barrett
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Summons
COPYRIGHT © 2008 by Jo Barrett All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected] Cover Art by
RJMorris
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History
First Faery Rose Edition, 2008
Published in the United States of America The water felt so good. She needed this soak.
Standing on her feet for twelve hours was too much.
“Wish I’d thought of grabbing a glass of wine before I climbed in,” Lindsay muttered, easing deeper into the steaming water. She really needed to cut back her schedule at the hospital. Maybe she could get Beverly to swap her for Sunday. Then she’d have a long weekend.
She snorted softly at the thought. When had two days become a long weekend?
“It doesn’t matter. A break is a break,” she said, soaping her body with a lavender scented gel.
Tomorrow she’d talk to Beverly and then see about getting her schedule changed. She didn’t need to work extra hours, she didn’t need the money.
“But you don’t have anything else to do,” she said with a sigh as she hung the washcloth over the spout. “No close friends, no
male
friends, nobody.
But nursing is fulfilling. It’s all I need,” she lied, as she lay back and closed her eyes.
Although rewarding, the work was often grueling. She enjoyed helping people, but sometimes, times when she couldn’t help people, it hurt. And lately there was an awful lot of hurt.
Her thoughts rambled from one case to another until the painful images began to fade and she dozed.
“The water has grown cold, lass.”
With a small screech, Lindsay sat bolt upright in the tub and covered everything she could with her hands. She would’ve snagged her washcloth, although it wouldn’t have helped her much, but it had disappeared, as had everything else. She was no 1
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longer in her bathroom, but in what looked like a castle bedchamber.
“Doona fash yerself, lass. You’re safe with me.”
The thick brogue brushed across her skin following the heated path of his fingers. Across her cheek, down her neck, and perilously close to her breasts.
She sank down deep into the chilly water.
He chuckled low adding to the goose bumps already dotting her skin.
“I’m dreaming,” she said. “That has to be it.”
Why else would she suddenly find herself in an antique tub with a very big, very handsome Scot eyeing her like his favorite dish?
He unfolded his large body from the chair sitting by the wooden tub and stood. “Hmm, a dream think you? ’Tis an interesting way of looking at it.”
“Yes, a dream. Of course,” she laughed, not too pleased with the faint hysteria lacing her voice. But the room, the chill air, the cold water, it all felt so real. “I-I fell asleep in the tub, and you’re from that romance novel I flipped through at work the other night when things finally slowed down. Yes, that’s it.
The hero was a Scottish laird or something. I just dreamed you up, all tall, dark, and—sexy.”
He laughed softly. “Thank you, lass. Glad I am that you like my countenance,” he said with a slight bow then turned and crossed the chamber. “As to the other, aye, I am A Scot, but I am no laird.”
“Oh. Well, the laird part isn’t what’s important,”
she admitted. His handsome face, big tone body, long dark hair, and unbelievably piercing green eyes were more than enough. He’d fit into any girl’s dream without much trouble. And he was tall, taller than her, which wasn’t always the case with her dates.
She was no slouch when it came to height, topping out at around five-foot-seven.
“So, uh, where and when am I dreaming?” she asked.
2
The Summons
“The where, be the Highlands, the when be the year of our Lord 1745.” He lifted a thin towel then came back to the tub.
“Wow, a couple hundred years back. Oh, wait.
That novel, it was a historical. Of course, that explains it.”
Must have been a really good book, although she couldn’t for the life of her remember anything else about it. The man standing beside her stole more than just her breath. Cognitive thought seemed to be a bit elusive at the moment.
“Come, lass. Up with you, afore you catch your death.”
“Um, close your eyes.”
He cast her a crooked grin. “If that be your wish, but I doona think you would…
dream me up
ta just hold a drying cloth.”
She stood and snatched the towel from his hands. “Leave it to me to imagine a smart-ass,” she grumbled, quickly wrapping it around her body.
His rough fingers cupped her chin and turned her head toward his. His mouth hovered above hers.
“And I called a woman from the future with the body and face of an angel who possesses a mouth full of sass. Things are ne’er as we think, lass.” His lips brushed hers with the faintest of touches.
She breathed him in, letting his rumbling Scottish lilt and oh-so-seductive mouth weave a spell around her. Yet one word popped into her mind and refused to be set aside by the gentle pressure of his lips. “Called?” she murmured beneath his persuasive lips. He lifted his head from hers. “I’ve the gift ta summon.” He released her face then gripped her around the waist and lifted her from the tub. She slid along his body as he lowered her feet to the cold stone floor.
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She bit back her groan of pleasure. “I don’t understand.”
He drew one hand up, sensuously riding along her side, across her shoulder, to her cheek while the other kept her body pinned to his. He caressed her face and looked into her eyes.
“I summoned ya ta me, lass. Across miles, across time.”
“Why me?” She closed her eyes a moment, cursing herself for asking such a stupid question. He was in her dream,
duh!
If she weren’t careful she’d ruin what looked to be a pretty interesting night.
“I didna know ‘twas you who would come, and from so far. I’ve ne’er done the like afore.” His deep green gaze flowed over her blonde, shoulder-length hair, across her face, then down to her lips. “And you are no’ what I imagined.”
She cocked a hand on her hip, not liking where this dream was headed. “Gee, so sorry to disappoint you.”
He laughed softly. “’Twas no’ meant ta be an insult, lass. You are spirited and beautiful, more than I’d hoped for. A man such as meself isna oft’ so lucky.”
“Such as you? You’re not exactly ugly, you know.
I wouldn’t dream up an ugly lover, I don’t think,” she half muttered to herself.
With a laugh, he scooped her off the floor and carried her to the bed. “’Tis my station, lass. It wouldna’ have won me such a beauty withou’ the help of a wee bit of magic or gold. But we are well matched, you and I. Loving you will bring me more pleasure than I e’er dreamed.”
“Um, well, don’t you think we should get to know each other first?” she asked weakly, hating herself for even mentioning it, but it did seem a bit rash to jump into bed right away. Even if it was just a dream.
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The Summons
“I canna say if the summons will last. Time we may no’ have. But I’ll be gentle with you.” He stripped out of his kilt and homespun shirt in mere seconds and was lying beside her completely and gloriously naked.
“I—uh—” She swallowed hard. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and she’d seen plenty in her line of work. Although he had scars here and there, his body was tone, tan, and sprinkled with dark hair in all the right places.
He pressed kisses to her shoulder and neck as his strong, wide hand massaged her hip then slowly moved to her breast. “Tell me how ta bring you pleasure,” he murmured as he nipped at her earlobe, his deep smooth voice racing over her skin.
“I think you’re doing a fine job on your own,” she said with a sigh.
He chuckled and lifted his head, his mouth but a breath away. “I will love you, lass. All of you. Your body, your soul, your verra being.”
“Oh,” she mouthed, but not a sound escaped her lips. She cleared her tight throat. “Then would you at least tell me your name?”
“Roan Douglass,” he said, nibbling at the corner of her lips.
“Roan,” she said on a sigh. “I’m—I’m—” She blinked a moment trying to remember her own name, he had her so distracted. “Um, I’m—Lindsay Sumner.”
“Lindsay,” he whispered. “
My
Lindsay.” Then kissed her fully, stealing all thought, all nervousness from her mind. As their tongues dueled she knew he would keep his promise and take her to a place she’d never been before. Heaven.
But dreams had a funny way of fading as the dreamer woke, becoming fuzzy around the edges until they couldn’t quite remember what they’d dreamed. And that’s how it was when Lindsay 5
Jo Barrett
opened her eyes freezing her butt off in an ice cold bath.
“Damn, I need to cut back at w-work,” she groused through chattering teeth as she dried herself. “That or get a decent night’s sleep.”
She crawled beneath the covers, and curled up into a ball, pinning her hands between her thighs to warm them.
A memory of other hands, a man’s tanned, rough hands on her thighs flashed through her mind.
“Impossible,” she whispered. She hadn’t been touched like that in ages. And never by a man with rough, sun-bronzed hands. The only men she’d ever dated were other nurses, lab techs, a doctor here and there, and they all had soft hands and rarely tanned.
But never one to waste a nice thought, Lindsay grinned to herself and let the image of those hands do whatever they wanted as she fell asleep.
****
“How odd.” There was a man in her dream, but she couldn’t see his face, and yet she felt him…still.
It was a new sensation, one she rather liked, but unfortunately, she had to get to work and didn’t have any more time to dwell on fantasy lovers.
In less than forty-five minutes she was on her way to the hospital, and the first thing on her agenda was to get her schedule changed. Falling asleep in the tub like that had been a warning signal. And that orgasm. She must be really on edge if her body thought she required one of those. And without
help.
Yep, she needed rest. She needed the time to unwind and relax. To simply breathe.
Although I
wouldn’t mind if My body decided to self-combust
6
The Summons
again
, she thought with a giggle. It had been a fantastic release, she felt revitalized and ready to go.
“But I do have to cut back my hours,” she told herself. It was for her own good, although it would take more than a month to take effect. Schedules were mapped out six weeks in advance. “But what will I do with all that free time once I get it?”
Take a lot of naps
, she thought with a grin. A deep warm chuckle slid down her spine, warming more than just her cheeks. She cranked up the air conditioner and turned her suddenly very erotic thoughts back to the road and getting to work on time in one piece.
“Behave, imaginary man, whoever you are,” she muttered.
Ne’er with you, lass.
She gasped as she came to an abrupt halt at the traffic light, her coffee sloshing in its travel cup.
“I did not hear a man’s voice. I imagined it. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
She lifted her cup to her lips with a shaking hand and took a generous gulp, having not quite convinced herself it was her imagination.
****
“And now with my new schedule finally beginning, I can get the rest I need,” she said to herself as she drove home. That would make her feel better, without a doubt. And then after she was rested, she’d try and get back into the dating scene again, which would take care of the other half of the problem.
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Jo Barrett
But two days later she found herself clicking through channels on the television, bored out of her mind.
“I knew this would happen,” she grumbled. She turned off the set and lifted the book Bev had loaned her. Her co-worker had known it wouldn’t take long for her to start pulling out her hair, and she had wanted to read more by that author she’d read last month, although she couldn’t recall why.
Lying back on the couch, she got comfortable and opened the book. She hadn’t read more than two chapters before nodding off.
