Beyond the Highland Myst(634)

Until the last possible minute.

Assuring them it would never go that far.

Realizing that were they to refuse him for any reason, he would simply sift stealthily up behind them and incapacitate them (and their descendant Christopher, who was also a Druid) if he had to, until Lughnassadh had passed. Because, by Danu, he would stop Darroc and he would preserve Aoibheal's reign and he would regain his power and he would see to Gabrielle's safety for the rest of forever.





* * *





In her defense— and all people were entitled to one, no matter how reprehensible their actions; that was one of the first things a person learned in law school— Gabby didn't plan to do it. There was no malice aforethought. Wanton and willful disregard? She might plead to that. But not to premeditation.

She was a good person. Really. Probably as much as ninety-four percent of the time.

Surely she could be forgiven for the other six percent?

It wasn't as if she'd left her room looking for the opportunity to malign anyone or indulge in a bit of character assassination.

But the opportunity presented itself (as wily opportunities to damn oneself frequently do), and she was hungover, and for the first time in more days than she cared to count, Adam hadn't been waiting with coffee for her the moment she'd opened her eyes. No, Adam had been God-only-knew-where, with God-only-knew-what-harem in simpering, adoring attendance. And she was grumpy, caffeine-deprived, and lost in the winding corridors of the castle.

So when she came up on the rear of a cluster of maids breathlessly discussing "Mr. Black" as they fake-dusted their way down the corridor, something with a small, mean soul reared its ugly head, baring pointy little teeth.

It didn't help that all five maids were young and attractive: a tall, leggy brunette, a shorter curvy brunette, a voluptuous redhead, and two willowy blondes. Nor that they were currently debating whether Adam was a foreplay man or a get-right-to-it kind of guy.

"Well, he likes foreplay," she was startled to hear herself say much too sweetly, "but he's so terrible at it that it makes you wish he were a wham-bam kind of man."

Five women turned to gape at her.

The leggy brunette regarded her skeptically. That she spoke with a sweet Scottish lilt only irritated Gabby even more. "Mr. Black? I'll not be believing that. That braw man's a lass's dream."

"A really bad dream maybe," Gabby heard her wayward, lying lips say. "The man can't even kiss."

"What do you mean?" the brunette demanded.

"Drool," Gabby said succinctly.

" 'Drool'?" the brunette echoed, frowning.

Gabby nodded, accepting that it was too late. She was in it, and she may as well do it up right and see it through to a Big Finish. What she might lack in character, she'd make up for with commitment. "Have you ever kissed someone who... well, it's like they open their mouth too much? And they get your face all wet, and by the time they're done kissing you, all you really want is a towel?"

The redhead nodded emphatically. "Aye, I have. Young Jamie down at the Haverton's pub." She made a face. "Ugh. It's disgusting. He slobbers."

"That's how Mr. Black kisses?" a slender blonde exclaimed.

"Worse." Gabby lied shamelessly. "He hardly ever brushes his teeth, and I swear the man wouldn't know what dental floss was if you tied a little ribbon of it smack around his itty-bitty, er... well, that's another matter. But, no, I shouldn't..."

"Nay, you should, you most certainly should!" a blonde exclaimed.

"Aye, don't be stopping there," the short brunette chimed in.

"You wouldn't be meaning his winkie, would you?" the redhead said faintly. "Oh, say it isn't so!"

Gabby nodded sadly. "I'm afraid it is."

"Just how itty and bitty?" the leggy brunette demanded.

"Well," Gabby said, sighing, "you know how big and tall he is?"

Five heads bobbed.

She edged closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Let's just say he's not in proportion."

"No!" they exclaimed again.

"Afraid so." She could have left it at that, should have left it at that, but the green-eyed monster had a fistful of her hair, not to mention control of her lips. She was appalled to hear herself say "Take my word for it, the only one Mr. Happy is making happy is himself."

The leggy brunette eyed her suspiciously. "Nay, I'll hear none of this. Last eve I saw the bulge— "

"Socks," Gabby cut her off, barely managing to conceal her scowl. How dare that woman be checking out Adam's bulge? I've hardly even given myself permission to do that. "He stuffs socks down his pants. Though he prefers a banana if a nice green one is available. Says it gives the best firm impression. Says that since women wear Wonderbras, why shouldn't men enhance themselves too?"