Laird of the Mist Read Online Free PDF

her hands in defeat.―Fine. Let‘s get this over with. But I warn you, if you insist on keeping this stray fruitcake, I may go stay with Olivia until he‘s gone. Got that?‖
―Fair enough,‖ Hamish answered as he followed her. He couldn‘t wait for her to hear the whole story, he thought with a secret smile.
    ― So you lost your pregnant wife at Culloden, then went to your local witch and she told you I was the reincarnation of—Jenny, was it? Then she did a kind of spell and sent you through time to us here in 2010 Florida?‖ Cat recounted, glaring across the table at Carrick.
    Carrick leaned forward a bit and stared back at her. ―Aye, right so far, lass.‖
Cat set down her coffee with a bang. ―And you expect that, in time, I will somehow recall you and this past life, fall into your arms, and live happily ever after?‖ Cat‘s head was beginning to pound in rhythm to the surf breaking behind her.
She turned on Hamish.―I think I have the full picture now. I‘m off to Olivia‘s. You two nutters try to stay out of trouble while I go book my flight.‖ Cat began to rise when Carrick reached out and gently grabbed her hand.
―Cat,‖ he spoke with a confident calm as their eyes met.―‗Tis true, all of it. Ye‘re truly Jenny in every way. Ye will remember, I ken it. Just give it a wee bit of time. It will come back to ye.‖
Damn those beautiful eyes, she thought. The most intoxicating eyes she had ever seen. They were deep and full of passion as he spoke. And his touch—oh Lord—it sent a subtle electricity to every part of her body. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once, and part of her wanted more.
Was it really so unreasonable a request? Give it a wee bit of time? But he was a crazy man, she reminded herself. Who listens to a lunatic? Maybe give it a day or two to be certain, the other part of her piped up; the surprising part that suddenly wanted to believe in all of this, wanted it to be true. And most of all, suddenly wanted to be loved with the fierceness that drove and possessed him.
―All right.‖ Cat relented a little.―I‘ll give you a day or two for your memory to come back.‖ She turned to Hamish. ―But you promise to help find where he belongs, okay?‖
She realized Carrick was still holding her hand and slowly pulled it away. She felt an instant loss when contact broke.
―As ye say, Cat,‖ Hamish agreed with a smile. He had noticed the energy between Carrick and his granddaughter when he had taken her hand. A powerful connection which left him in no doubt as to the validity of Carrick‘s tale.―But he is exactly where he belongs,‖ he murmured to himself.
    Cat had spent most of the day in her third floor studio reviewing selections to record for her upcoming CD. She had two weeks before she would become immersed in its production. Playing various Scottish tunes to finalize her decisions, she lowered the violin in satisfaction. It would be a departure from classical music; a new avenue to explore, and she was enjoying it.
Hamish had taken Carrick off for the day to shop and orient him to the 21 st century. She watched through the window long enough to see her grandfather explaining the car to Carrick, his obvious enthusiasm for the Mercedes as he got into it, and his electric smile as Hamish drove them away. Cat had known many who had a passion for cars, but this was extraordinary. You would think he had never seen one before...
―Cat, darlin‘‖ Hamish‘s voice rang through the house.―Do ye come down and join us.‗Tis nearly dinner time and I want to treat us tonight.‖
―Coming, grandda,‖ she called down to him. She placed the violin in its case with great care and closed the lid securely. Guinness loved to play with the strings, brushing his fat paws over them, creating dissonant music.
Cat stopped abruptly at the last stair before the foyer, her eyes riveted on the figure with his back to her. She barely recognized Carrick without his kilt. He was exquisite