Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Actress and the Celt ❯ Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

The stranger pulled the sword out of its scabbard and ran at her with it. She, of course, screamed and ran into her bedroom, locking the door. She tried to find something, anything, to defend herself with, but she had taken a vow of pacifism in high school, so she kept no weapons but the best security system she could find. Fat lot that would do, since he didn't break her window to get in!

 

He pounded the door, finally managing to break it down. She froze in terror, unable to do anything but let the tears fall down her cheeks and wait for him to kill her. Her frozen, cold body shook in fear.

 

The warrior seemed to stop, as if confused by her tears. “Why do ye cry now, Fidelma? Didn't the Devil himself give you a place next to his throne in Hades?”

 

Elizabeth looked up at him, the tears still falling. “I'm not Fidelma!”

 

He snarled. “Of course ye are. You sent me here to keep me from becoming clan leader so you're treacherous bastard of a brother could take it.”

Elizabeth wiped away the tears. “My brother is a Sociology professor in Connecticut.”

 

His dark eyes bore into her. “Are ye not a witch?”

 

Elizabeth bit her lip. Great, the one question that could kill her. “Yes and no.”

 

“Its either one or the other, lass.”

 

“I can do some magick, but I can't send people across time or make them miss their inauguration or whatever. I do spiritual magick, I'm a healer. I don't even have any man-made chemicals in my house! I'm a non-violent person! I hug puppies!”

 

The man looked utterly confused, and he lowered his weapon. “So, you are not Fidelma?”

 

She sighed. “Fidelma McGillicuty?”

 

“Aye.”

 

“She's my ancestor, from over a thousand years ago. She was an evil witch and helped her sister and brother rise to power in Ireland. Supposedly, she killed the son of a chieftain…”

 

“Cathair O'Ceallaigh.”

 

Elizabeth blinked. “Yea. Um… so, who are you and why are you in my house?”

 

The man sighed wearily. “I'm Cathair.”

 

Elizabeth gasped. “Wait, wait… you can't be Cathair! He died over a thousand years ago! Its impossible!”

 

“Lass, any is possible with me. I refused to wed Fidelma, so she sent me here so she could put her brother as leader of my father's clan,” his eyes narrowed in hatred. “You look too much like her.”

 

She stiffened. “Yea, sorry, I'll try harder next time to request that I not be born looking like anyone you don't like.”

 

Cathair looked around her Moroccan bedroom. “Where in God's name am I?”

 

She sighed, “What was the year when you left?”

 

“The Year of our Lord, 1007.”

 

“Well, welcome to the 21st century. It's 2007.”

 

Cathair's jaw dropped. “You must be jokin', lass! Surely the world has ended!”

 

“'Fraid not. A lot has happened since your time. And apparently, when I asked-“ she looked up at the ceiling and could practically see the Lord and Lady laughing at her, “for some male companionship, they decided to drag you out of your time so I can baby-sit you in mine.”

 

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Baby-sit?”

 

“Never mind. First thing's first, I don't know how long we'll be together. But it would probably help if I introduce myself,” she held out her hand, “My name is Elizabeth. Welcome to the future.”

 

Cathair gave her a droll stare. “Your attempt at humor is ill received, lass.”

 

She shrugged and pulled her hand back, since it was obvious handshakes weren't common at this time. Er… his time.

 

She looked at his attire. “Ok, so… first, you need clothes.”

 

“What is wrong with what I am wearing?”

 

“Kilts are great and all, my family wears them on special occasions, but they're not what people wear around all the time. We wear pants.”

 

“Pants?”

 

She walked over to her oak dresser and pulled out a pair. He inspected them. “Do men also wear these with small flowers on them?”

 

She blushed. “No, they're plain and much looser, but you get the idea. We're going to have to go sho- to the market.” She bounded over to her closet and grabbed a box of her brother's clothes she kept when he spent the night on the way to a lecture in another state. She found a black turtleneck and a pair of black slacks. She doubted he would wear boxers. “They may be too small for you, but they'll do until we get you some clothes that fit.”

 

Cathair looked like he was about to touch a scorpion. “How in the world do your men walk?”

 

“Carefully.” She shoved the clothes at him. “The little white thing on the shirt should be next to the back of your neck, and the opening with the metal circle on the pants should be in the front. Take off your boots when you put them on, then you can put them back one. No one will notice those.”

She left the bewildered and confused Celt in her bathroom to change as she rubbed her temples. Amazing. She didn't kick him out, call him insane, or freak out at all. She's about to go buy him clothes. And then try to get him to adjust to life a thousand years later than his time.

 

She pulled off the terry robe just as he came in, fighting with the zipper. She squeaked and pulled it back on, cursing her fair complexion as she held the robe to her tightly and blushed madly.

 

Cathair blinked. “Why do you cover yerself, lass?”

 

Elizabeth flushed darker. “Women in this time don't walk around naked, Cathair. We don't usually let men who aren't married or courting us to see us without clothes.”

 

Cathair shook his head. “It's a pity, lass, to cover a body as fine as yours.”

 

She groaned and wondered if she could get any darker. “Be that as it may, I'd appreciate it if you could wait outside for me to get dressed so we can go.”

 

“I need…” he bit the words out. “help with this zip thing.”

 

“Zipper.” Cautiously, she stepped in front of him, and trying not to touch him as much as possible, she pulled the two buttons together.

 

Cathair stiffened and stood stock-still. Her hands were so close to that part of him that made him male and, he thought with pride, the best lover in his tribe. She certainly wasn't a busty or sexual lass, but he did feel some stirrings as she quickly pulled up the zipper.

 

She refused to look at him. “All right, you're zipped. I'll be out in a minute.”

 

He raised an eyebrow and refused to move. She looked up and after a few minutes of staring at him, finally threw up her hands and grabbed her clothes. “Chauvinistic male,” she muttered, stomping into her bathroom and locking all the doors.

 

Cathair managed to laugh even though he felt the flames of arousal licking at him. His whole body felt on fire, something he'd never felt with his other conquests. Aye, they had pleased him, but he'd never felt such… desperation.

 

He growled in frustration. The tight, constricting clothes were not helping matters at all. He hoped they would find something with more room to breathe and move. He doubted he could last the hour in these, much less a day.

 

Elizabeth pulled on an old T-shirt, not wanting to get anymore attention from the fierce chieftain outside the door. She slipped into her flower jeans and pulled her hair back, smoothing it with her fingertips. Slipping her feet into her favorite pair of flip flops, she looked comfortable and not in the least attractive. Good.

 

She unlocked the doors, grabbing her purse off the counter before retrieving her “guest”. She put her hands on her hips, hoping that she looked stern and serious. Not that it mattered to him, she was sure. He could probably knock her down by just blowing on her. “Ok, here are the rules; don't touch anything, don't talk to anybody, and do NOT leave my side. I want to get in and out as much as possible.”

 

Cathair was absolutely shocked. A lass, telling him what to do?! Never in his life had he met the like. He certainly didn't like it.

 

He stood to his full height, at least six feet four inches, towering over her five feet eight inches. He said nothing, simply staring her down, which was easy from his altitude. She stared back, narrowing her eyes at him. Then, her look softened. This certainly could not be easy for him. She didn't need to make it worse.

 

“Look, I know you're all important and stuff back where you came from, but for right now, let me show you how this world works before you go storming the castle and all that. Please?” she tried to keep her frustration from edging its way into her tone, but it wasn't easy.

 

Cathair's expression bordered between disbelief and humor. “It's more than just being `all important and stuff'. My clan depends on me,” he gave her a thoughtful look. “But if I am cursed to be here with ye, then I will do as you ask and refrain from `storming the castle and all that.'”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Ok, let's go.”

 

She led him out of the apartment building, arming her security system and locking the four locks she had on the door. Cathair felt totally lost as she performed the strange ritual.

 

“Why does it take so long for you to leave your apartment, lass?”

 

Elizabeth tried to keep her temper in check. “Well, I live in a large… village. There are a lot of people I don't know-“

 

Cathair gaped at her. “You dinna know everyone here?!” How was that even possible not to know your neighbors and fellow villagers? He already disliked this time and place.

 

“No, I don't. You'll see how big this place is in a minute. Anyway, because this is such a big… village, there are a lot of thieves and robbers who try to break into my apartment. The buttons you saw me press activates like… a shield around my house. If anyone tries to break in, then some… soldiers will come and take him away.”

Cathair shook his head. “I will never understand this place.”

 

Elizabeth bit her lip at the incredible sadness that fell over his countenance. He seemed so strong, and to be thrown in a different place and time where he understood nothing and he had to depend upon a woman to help him… she could see from his point of view how devastating it could be.

 

Suddenly, she blanched. She would have to feed him, too. And more than likely, Celt-man didn't have a soft spot for animals.

 

She swallowed. “Cathair?”

 

His head lifted, and he raised a brow. “Aye lass?”

 

“Do you eat…” she bit the word out, “meat?”

 

Cathair was completely baffled. Why would she be askin' such a thing? “Aye, lass, of course I do. `Tis only natural.”

 

He looked at her in alarm as she turned a pale shade of green. “Ok, we'll have to figure something out, then, because I don't.”

 

Cathair blinked. He didn't have the energy to gape. With a frustrated sigh, he asked in monotone, “Why do ye not eat meat?”

 

If looks could kill, he would be skewered on a spit and roasted. “I love animals. I don't eat them because I don't believe I need to.”

 

“Well, meat is almost completely what I ate back…” he swallowed, “back in Ireland. We didn't… don't have much in the way of edible plants.”

 

She sighed and nodded, still a little queasy. “I'll just have to show you how to cook your own meat, since I won't.”

 

He scoffed at her. “I know how to cook, lass. I'm not completely helpless.”

 

She bit back her retort. Let him be haughty. She'll leave him by himself with her stove and all the knobs.

 

She hailed a taxi, since she had no idea how he would react to the crowds on the subway. He refused to get in at first, but she finally coaxed him in and they made their way to one of Elizabeth's favorite stores, Cat Got Your Tongue.

 

When they stopped in Greenwich Village, she paid and tipped the cabby heavily for answering Cathair's questions about the vehicle, since of course, he'd never seen one living in the bog in Ireland. That was her story, anyway.

The store was small but incredibly popular. It was owned by another of Elizabeth's friends, Rafael. He was flamboyantly homosexual, but luckily, his store wasn't. His partner, Dave, who paid the bills for the store, refused to make it a drag-queen-only store. He wanted business from all cultures and sexual preferences.

 

Elizabeth led Cathair in, and watched in amusement as he stared at some of the men and women holding hands with their spouse or partners. She directed him to the straight men's section (Rafael kept all the drag and fetish things in the back) and grabbed four sizes of the same pair of dark blue jeans. She pointed to the stall that was the fitting room.

 

“Ok, go in there and try these on. Tell me which one is the most comfortable. You want it to fit around your hips, but be kind of loose everywhere else. You got it?”

 

He nodded, his intense eyes dull. “Aye, I got it.” He walked into the stall and then pushed it closed, staring for a moment at the lock before sliding the small bar across. He pulled off the extremely uncomfortable pair of pants, and tried the biggest looking pair she'd gotten him.

 

It felt better, but they wouldn't stay up on his hips. He had a feeling that she wouldn't appreciate these… things falling down. He grinned wickedly. Then again, maybe she might.

 

He tried on the other three and decided that the next to smallest fit him the best. He pulled them on and walked out.

 

She was chatting with a dark skinned man with long eyelashes and extremely red lips. He had no hair, but wore lots of silver bracelets and rings. The way he talked and moved almost made him seem feminine, if not for the tight tunic that made him think otherwise.

 

He walked up cautiously and cleared his throat. Elizabeth turned and her eyes widened as she stared at the jeans. Oh yea, they fit all right.

 

She swallowed and walked around the back to see the tag. She tried really hard not to stare at his butt as she got his size down. When she walked back around to his front, flushing, he gave her an amused smirk.

 

“Rafael,” she hugged her friend around the shoulders, “This is my… cousin Cathair from Ireland.”

 

“Girl, if that's your cousin, than incest is best!” Cathair felt extremely uncomfortable as the man eyed him, not hungrily but piercingly.

 

Elizabeth smacked him on the shoulder, and he pouted. “What?”

 

“You should be lucky she didn't hit you harder, Raf,” Dave gave Elizabeth a brotherly hug and kissed his partner on the cheek. “So, he's your cousin?”

 

She gave them both a big, what she hoped to be, genuine grin. “Yea. He lived in a cultural commune in the bogs. He wanted to visit, so I made him leave the kilts at home.”

 

Cathair glared but said nothing. Who would believe that story?

 

Dave held out his hand. “Well, welcome to New York, Cathair. I hope that you don't get too lost out here. It takes a while to get used to everything. And I'm going to assume you've never met a gay couple before.”

 

Cathair blinked. “Gay?”

 

“Homosexual,” Elizabeth supplied.

 

“Oh. Well, no, not really.”

 

Dave gave him a warm smile. “We don't bite. Feel free to look around. Take whatever you want, no charge.”

 

Elizabeth gasped. “Dave, you really don't-“

 

Rafael waved his hand, and Cathair noticed how limp the wrist was. “Nonsense. You're our girl, Liz. We afford to help out starving actresses once in a while,” Elizabeth gave him another shove, then laughed and hugged them both.

 

Dave hugged her back. “Now, if you'll excuse us-“

 

“What do you mean us? The fashion show's not over yet!” Rafael's whine could rival any woman on the face of the planet.

 

“We,” Dave stressed, “Need to work on the books, which we should have done two weeks ago.”

 

He dragged his lover, still whining, away from Elizabeth and Cathair. They both just shook their heads.

 

She gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for not, you know, freaking out over the whole homosexual thing.”

 

He gave her a wicked grin. “Some men prefer that. But I am a man who decidedly loves women.”

 

She blushed, then grabbed some more clothes for him. Sweaters, pants, jeans, shoes, a watch, everything he would need while he was here. When they left, they each carried about six bags worth of clothing and accessories. Elizabeth hailed another cab and they piled in. She glanced at her watch, then shrieked.

 

“I'm going to be late!” she directed the cabby to the theatre, and offered him a fifty dollar tip if he could speed. She had to be there by six, those kids depended on her.

 

They arrived at the theatre with five minutes to spare. She paid the cabby with his bonus and then grabbed the bags. “We'll stick them in the dressing rooms until I'm done.”

 

Cathair grabbed her arm before she raced off. “What are we doing here?”

 

She grabbed his hand and pulled him after her, dumping the bags in the dressing room closet on the way to the stage, pausing to let him change into something more comfortable, and in regular shoes. She explained as she walked from the back to the front of the house.

 

“I'm an actress. You know, at festivals, when people reenact battles or events?” He nodded. “That's what I do, except what I reenact isn't real, none of it happened. Here, its entertainment. People pay money to come see actors and actresses perform. That's how I make my living.”

 

He nodded. “So, are you performing tonight?”

 

She smiled. “No, I'm teaching a music class for some kids who want to be in the theatre. So, that's why we had to run.”

 

Three small girl ran off the stage and right into Elizabeth, almost knocking her over if Cathair didn't grab her. They hugged her middle, shouting and jumbling words that he couldn't understand even if he tried. She laughed and took their hands, leading them back on stage.

 

Tally, the program director, gave her a sheepish grin. “They kept asking me where Miss Lizzie was.”

 

“Well, she's here.”

 

Tally easily could have been a model or actress herself, with her steel grey eyes and jet black hair, but she wanted to help other people. She could eat a whole pizza and lose a pound, her metabolism was so high. Like any good model, she fit into a perfect size six, but covered up her beauty with band shirts and ripped jeans.

 

Tally looked past Elizabeth to the man sitting standing next to the curtains far stage left. “Who in the world is that?”

 

“Who-“ Elizabeth glanced, “He's my-“

 

“Boyfriend?!” Tally grabbed Elizabeth's hands, spinning her around. “Girl, you found one stud of a boyfriend!”

 

“Tally! There are kids around!”

 

Tally rolled her eyes. “Its about time you got a new guy, after Leon-“

 

“Don't talk about him!” Elizabeth snapped, fire in her eyes, along with a lot of pain. Tally blanched a little, and the kids looked scared. Elizabeth sighed and took a deep breath before plastering a smile on her face and heading over to the piano.

 

“Ok guys, let's see how hard you've been practicing,” she began to play a few chords, but the kids wouldn't sing just yet.

 

“Miss Lizzie! You promised to sing!”

 

Cathair raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall behind the curtain, arms crossed over his chest. He never realized that the woman could sing, or was so natural around children. Few women in his clan could act in such a way without having children of their own.

 

She sighed. “I did?”

 

“YES!” the chorus of high pitched voices rose.

 

She gave them a smile. “All right, which song do you want to hear?”

 

The twenty children sat on the floor, looking with eager faces. One little girl with her thumb in her mouth raised her other hand. Elizabeth's eyes softened, and she motioned for her to come over. The child stood up, wide blue eyes and red hair making him wonder if perhaps she was a fey child, beautiful and ethereal. She sat on Elizabeth's knees, and whispered in her ear what she wanted to hear.

 

She smiled as she processed the request. This song was a favorite of the kids, and somewhat explained the situation between her and Cathair.

 

She played the opening introduction before opening her mouth and letting the words sweep her away.

 

“I can show you the world

Shining, shimmering, splendid

Tell me, Princess

Now when did you last let your heart, decide?

 

I can open your eyes

Take you wonder by wonder

Over sideways and under

On a magic carpet ride

 

A whole new world

A new fantastic point of view

No one to tell us no

Or where to go

Or say we're only dreaming

 

A whole new world

A dazzling place I never knew

But when I'm way up here

Its crystal clear

That now I'm in a whole new world with you

 

Unbelievable sights

Indescribable feelings

Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling

Through an endless diamond sky

 

A whole new world

 

Every turn a surprise

Every moment red-letter

I'll chase them anywhere

There's time to spare

Let me share this whole new world with you

 

A whole new world…

That's where we'll be…

A thrilling chase…

A wondrous place…

For you and me...”

 

The kids clapped, and Cathair could only stare dumbfounded. Not only could the women sing, but she must have been blessed by Taliesin himself! Never in all his years had he ever heard music as what she had created. And the words… they certainly were ironic, weren't they?

 

The lesson began, lots of chords and scales, and the hour flew by. It seemed like only minutes before parents were coming to pick up their kids. She gave the little girl, name Marney, and handed her to her mother. Cathair had moved behind her halfway through the class, and Marney's mother raked a hungry look at him. He raised an eyebrow, not in the least interested. Marney tugged on her mother's shirt, breaking the woman's concentration on him. She gave him one last hungry glance, then walked with her child out of the auditorium.

 

Elizabeth sighed mentally. Marney's mother was a model for Macy's. She was pretty sure she couldn't compete with that.

 

Wait, what competition? You're just supposed to watch him until the psycho-wormhole thing opens up and takes him home. Remember?

 

Yea, she remembered. Didn't mean she had to like it.

 

Cathair noted the defeated air around Elizabeth after the woman left. He went into the dressing room, pondering.

 

What could have changed her attitude? Surely it wasn't because of that woman.

 

His thoughts reflected back to her holding Marney. She'd looked so happy, and yet at the same time, almost like she'd been in pain. Like holding the child had been the best thing to ever happen to her, and yet also the worst.

 

His head snapped up as he gathered their bags.

 

She wanted a child.

 

He felt sucker-punched. He remembered a time when he wanted the same things she did; love, a family. But he knew better now. Love didn't really exist. No woman could ever be worth giving up his heart.

 

Then why does the thought of her in pain make you want to kill someone?

 

He cursed. When would he learn? Getting involved with women never boded well. He picked up the twelve bags with ease, and met Elizabeth outside the building.

 

She looked exhausted, and she knew he would need more things to survive in this world. She didn't know if she was up to shopping, but if nothing else, she had to get him some hygiene stuff.

 

Cathair stuffed the bags into the cab as she instructed the driver the way back to her house. He slid inside and pulled the cab door shut.

 

Elizabeth held back the exhaustion and tears. Her life certainly wasn't what she had hoped. She wanted love, hope, and happiness. Yet every time she reached out to grasp it, it was snatched from her reach.

 

Leon… Leon had used her, then tossed her aside when he didn't need her anymore. She thought she loved him, thought he felt the same. But its hard to know real love when you have enough money to buy a loft the size of four trailers.

 

Suddenly, she felt an arm snake itself around her waist. It seemed stiff and awkward to him, but she didn't notice. She just appreciated the gesture. She leaned against him, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath.

 

“I hate to see ye sad, lass,” he sighed, pulling her tighter against him. “And I dinna know why.”

 

She smiled. “Its ok,” she whispered. Too soon, the cab stopped, and for the third time that day, she paid the cab fare, Cathair insisting on carrying the bags.

 

They trotted up the three flights of stairs to her loft. She unlocked the doors and disabled the alarm as Cathair dumped the bags on the bed. She'd put them in the extra closet in her room for him. She sighed as she remembered what else she needed.

 

“Cathair?”

 

“Aye?”

 

“I need to buy you some… bathing things.”

 

He walked out, confusion written all over his face. “I just bathed not four days ago, lass!”

 

She fought the urge to giggle. “Well, Mr. Chieftain, here, we bath everyday.” His eyes widened.

 

“Surely you jest?”

 

She shook her head. “Nope. Now, I can go by myself around the corner to the drug store, or you can come with me and have a vote on what I get you.”

 

He furrowed his brows, then sighed reluctantly. “I will go with ye.”

 

They walked out of the building and rounded the corner, coming upon Xiao's Drug Store. She waved merrily at Mr. Xiao as she pulled Cathair behind her.

 

“Ok, first of all, toothbrush.”

 

“What?!”

 

She gave him a patient glance. “Its like a very small brush that you use to clean your teeth. Only your teeth. You use it twice a day with toothpaste, which is like tasty soap to clean your teeth with.” She grabbed a black and white toothbrush, some very strong mint mouthwash, a tube of orange-flavored toothpaste (at his request) and a bag of flossing sticks, since even she couldn't use normal floss.

 

“Next, we have deodorant. Its like soap that stays on under your arms to keep you from sweating and smelling.” She got him Old Spice (was that just a universal guy thing?) and some non-Old Spice body spray.

 

“Ok, last we have soap. Actual soap. Just pick out whichever you think smells the best.” She didn't think he would use a puff, and she had plenty of washcloths at her apartment. She picked up basic grooming supplies; hairbrush, comb, some general shampoo and conditioner, and a giant bag of hair ties. He came up behind her and handed her the soap he wanted. She burst out laughing when she saw which one.

 

“You can't read, can you?”

 

“Not this language, no. What is so amusing?”

 

She pointed to the letters. “Its Irish Spring.”

 

He gave her a blank, droll stare. She swallowed her humor and placed their hand basket on the counter. Mr. Xiao smiled, then totaled up the purchases before his busty wife came bursting from behind the curtain behind the counter.

 

“Lizzie! We've missed you, where have you been?” The plump Chinese woman gave the girl a hug, then saw her companion. “And who is this?”

 

“This is my Irish cousin, Cathair. He's visiting New York for the first time.”

 

“Ahhh! Welcome to New York!” she gave a half bow, unlike her husband, who bent completely at the waist.

 

Cathair gave a very elegant nod. “Thank you. I'm sure I'll like it here.”

 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the lie. “Well, we have to go. I'll come over for tea on Thursday, how's that?”

 

Mrs. Xiao beamed. “Count on it, dear. Now have a good time and be careful.”

 

They got back to the apartment, and it wasn't two seconds before Elizabeth shoved him in the bathroom, explained to him how to use the tub (since she wasn't sure how he'd feel about the water jets attacking him from all sides). She gave him a black washcloth, the shampoo (since he refused to use “feminine potions”, which is what he called the conditioner), handed him his Irish Spring (with another giggle and a glare), and turned on the tub for him. She showed him how to adjust the temperature and turn it off, and then left, closing the door behind her.

Elizabeth pulled off her shirt, then looked in her full-length mirror. She sighed as she touched the rolls on her stomach. Yea, she finally got a hot guy in her house, and she looked like this. Great. Perfect.

 

Angrily, she took off her bra, pants, and panties and tossed them with the shirt in her hamper. She pulled open the top drawer of her cherry wood dresser, digging around until she found her favorite emerald green silk nightgown. With spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline, this easily was her favorite sleeping attire. Also, most of her nightgowns looked like this one, in different colors and necklines.

 

She grabbed a pair of black panties and, after wiggling them on, pulled the nightgown over her head. She smiled as she smoothed the silk over her stomach. So what if she wasn't pretty? She certainly felt sexier in this. She grabbed a brush and ran it through her hair before climbing into her bed, picking up the book she was currently reading and flipping it open to her marked page.

 

About thirty minutes later, he stepped out, rubbing his wet head with the towel. Elizabeth heard the door close and marked her page, setting the book on her lap. She looked up, and almost immediately regretted doing so.

 

The red plaid sleeping pants she'd bought him hung low on his hips, revealing a trail of dark hair starting at his navel and traveling down, past where she could see. As her gaze traveled, she could see that he didn't have a six-pack. He had eight. And they were well defined and hard. Little droplets of water still trailed down his biceps, leaving a shiny wake on his muscles. Geez, he looked like someone stretched his skin over steel! When she finally forced her gaze to his face, he wore an expression of extreme amusement and hunger.

 

“Like what you see, bain caielle?” he purred, his voice low and husky.

 

She swallowed and forced a glare. “I am not your wife, and don't even be thinking of taking liberties that are meant only for your wife!” Ok, so her whole life she'd advocated sex before marriage as long as love was in the equation, but he didn't know that.

 

He laughed. “So, you speak Gaelic?”

 

She nodded, still glaring. “How do you understand English?”

 

That gave him pause. How did he know? All he remembered was standing in his father's keep, fighting with Fidelma's brother, and the next he knew, he was in her living room.

 

He shrugged. “I don't know, lass. I doubt Fidelma would have helped me by letting me understand you.”

 

Elizabeth nodded, then stood stiffly. “I'll show you your bed.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Will I not be sleeping in here?”

 

She gave him a sugary sweet smile. “Only if you want to sleep on the floor.”

 

Cathair resisted the urge to laugh. This woman has wit and intelligence! A thing he'd like as not never see again. But, he decided to take her up on her bluff. He flashed her a wicked grin. “Very well.”

 

She gaped. “That was a rhetorical statement, you are not sleeping in here!”

 

Cathair dropped the towel, striding towards her until their chests almost touched. He lowered his mouth in her ear, sending shivers down her spine when he gently breathed on it. “I think, lass, that were I to be in here, then the burglars and robbers wouldn't get two seconds in before I got to them. I assure you, I'm better than any `security system' you could barter for.”