Page 5 of Dorchad

Why would anyone wish for her? That didn’t really matter, only saving Georgia and Billy did. “Yes. Yes, I will. I agree.”

Rebecca suddenly found herself standing in front of the elevators, as if nothing had happened. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the brunette lab tech, and considered shouting to her to run. But she had agreed to do this, so she bent down and picked up the scrub top. The fabric clung to her fingers as if glued to them the moment she touched it, and then flared out around her, growing into a huge dark blue cape that sparkled with copper and violet metallic threads. As it cocooned her she experienced a sense of being embraced by an old friend.

This really is magical. But where was it taking her?

As it wrapped around her the hospital faded from her senses, replaced by a cold breeze that made the cluet dance around her. She could smell woodsmoke and trees, and heard the sound of water gently lapping. Instinctively she held her breath as the cloth whirled away from her, and she fell into an enormous lake.

Where am I?

The shock of the plunge into the frigid waters made her heart race, but Rebecca focused on the light above her head, and swam up until she surfaced and sputtered, clearing her airways and squinting against the blinding sunlight. At this temperature hypothermia would quickly set in, so her first priority was to get out of the water. To her right lay a large, wooded island with a dark gray castle built in its center, and since that was closer than the lake shore she swam toward it. Halfway there she saw a tall, dark-haired man dressed like the highlanders from her bizarre vision wading into the water and making waves as he rushed toward her.

Help, thank heavens.

Her savior got to her just as she reached the shallows, and snatched her up out of the water, holding her against his chest as he turned around and carried her the rest of the way. He didn’t seem to care that her soaked clothes were pouring water all over him, or that she was shaking so much now he had to tighten his grip on her to keep her from falling back into the freezing water.

Rebecca’s teeth began chattering as soon as he set her down on the shore, for the cold breeze had turned to a biting wind. She wanted to throw herself at him, but of course he’d done enough just helping her to shore. The highlander pulled off the black and gray plaid he wore draped over his shoulders and wrapped it around her, fussing with the folds so that she was completely covered.

“Thank you.” That was all she could say as she looked up into the most wickedly beautiful male face she had ever seen. Was she having another vision?

If she could have custom built a man to save her, he would have looked exactly like this one. Tall and broad-shouldered, his thick, well-defined muscles paved the long, heavy bones of his limbs with perfect balance, giving him an aura of almost inhuman strength and grace. Around his stunning features he had a shaggy mane of inky black hair that seemed to pour rather than grow from his scalp. His skin was so pale it resembled carved white marble more than human flesh. His eyes had to be darker than his hair, but what color was darker than black?

He's a Goth prince come to life.

Anyone else would have considered him a sinister person, especially with the cruel set of his mouth and diagonal slash of his black brows. With his looks he certainly could have brought any cinematic villain to life with ease. Yet he had an irresistible scent, almost exactly like that from the spicy hot chocolate with whipped cream she liked to drink on snowy days.

No one who smells so good could be evil.

He didn’t compare to the tanned blond men most other women considered handsome, but Rebecca had always disliked the Prince Charming type. The darker and tougher a man looked, the more he attracted her. This one also seemed as if he was something more behind his menacing façade. Like the universe, he appeared huge and powerful and beyond mysterious.

He hadn’t uttered a word yet, so she tried an introduction.

“My name is Dr. Rebecca McIan. I work at Revere Rehab Hospital.” She glanced around them, hoping to see something familiar, with no luck. This couldn’t be one of the harbor islands, or she would have been able to see the city.

What if I’m already dead?

She tried to keep the panic from overwhelming her and asked, “Could you tell me where I am, please?”

The man looked all over her, his slanted brows drawing together as his gaze went down to her loafers and back up to the dripping curls of her ponytails. With a nervous hand she removed the circular clips holding her wet, bedraggled hair up to squeeze and shake out her tresses while she tried to think of something else she could say to put him at ease. She’d never been very good at chatting up strangers outside of work.

The man suddenly reached out and took hold of the ID card hanging from her lanyard, his knuckles brushing the hardened peak of her breast as he did. That made her go still and stare into his eyes, which glittered strangely now.

“How came you here?” he asked in a voice with a thick Scottish accent, and so chillingly pervasive she felt it in her bones.

A twang and a whizzing sound came from behind the man, and as Rebecca saw an arrow come flying out of the woods she lunged at the man and knocked him down on his back. The arrow buried itself in the ground an inch from his head.

“Stay down,” she whispered to him as she peered into the shadowy forest. “I can’t see anyone.” Her water-logged clothes seemed to be melting into his, and she could detect the unmistakable ridge of an erection pressing against her mons. At the same time one of his hands slid down her back, perilously close to her bottom.

“I should get up now.” She tried to shift off him, but his arms came around her.

“Dinnae move,” he told her as he cupped the back of her head with his other hand.

Rebecca looked into his eyes, which seemed to be burning impossibly hot now, as if they had become the cores of stars. His scent had grown hotter, like hot chocolate with a shot of flaming brandy. If she didn’t move she was going to do something unforgivable, and she couldn’t let that happen. So she pushed at him, hoping to free herself. That only allowed her to move an inch before he rolled with her, landing on top, his weight pinning her to the ground.

Why was she fighting to get away from him? Rebecca couldn’t remember.

“Obey me, wench,” the man said, growling the words as he lifted his head to look around them.

Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat as the shift in his position made his erection press against her, so close now she could sense the heat and hardness of him. If they had been naked he would be nestled right on top of her pulsing clit. Her sex clenched in response to these indecent thoughts.