Page 83 of Wild Scottish Rose

Yeah, I had it bad.

Now, as I googled Paganism on my phone while Shona slept deeply, I smiled at the words on the screen. Of course, my woman would be into a religion that celebrated nature. That totally tracked. I couldn’t wait to ask her more about it in the morning.

Well, it wasalmostmorning now.

I was riding a high. I’d had a fun night at the pub with the “lads,” discovered my woman naked in the garden, and was getting closer to finding out more about the Kelpies. No complaints from this end. Grinning, I sipped my whisky, relaxed and happy, as Shona snored ever so lightly in my bed.

God, but she was beautiful.

Truly, the woman had no idea just how much of a punch she packed. There was zero artifice about her when it came to her looks, and I was constantly wiping the dirt from her face or pulling a twig from her hair. And then I’d strip her down and find the silkiest, prettiest, naughtiest underwear under her clothes, as though it was a secret just for me to discover. I loved the contrasts of who she was, both in and out of the bedroom. Serious when it came to business, silly when it came to her favorite movies and music. She fit me, so well, and listened—trulylistened. This wasn’t a woman who bided her time while I spoke just to wait for an opportune moment to jump in and tell me more about herself. No, this was a woman who was attentive, and oftentimes I’d have to pry her thoughts out of her. She fascinated me, and I was dying to get her in a film.

And at the same time, not.

Hollywood would eat her up.

Truly.

With her stunning looks, that gorgeous accent, and her complete indifference to being in front of a camera, oh yeah, she’d be a riveting actress. I could already see my friends clamoring to get her on screen.

Which is why I wanted to keep her here, with me, awayfrom it all. The longer I stayed in Loren Brae, the more the town was growing on me. Even though I tended to be a restless sort, always taking on my next project, I could feel myself growing roots here.

An otherworldly shriek split the night, and my whisky glass toppled out of my hand as I shot to my feet. Whirling, I ran for the window, staring out into the darkness, the hairs standing up at the back of my neck.

The Kelpies.

I couldn’t miss this opportunity.

Grabbing my fleece jacket, my camera, and shoving my feet into my sneakers, I gave Shona a quick glance. Should I wake her? She shifted, pulling the blanket with her as she rolled, and I decided against it. I suspected she would only try to stop me from going out there, and I might lose the opportunity I’d been waiting for. Slipping from the cottage, I closed the door quietly behind me.

Movement caught my eye in the garden, and I saw not one, but several hedgies slip into the bushes. Eugene must have found friends. For some reason, the thought of Eugene inviting friends to play catch put a smile at my lips even as another shriek split the inky black sky.

They say it’s always darkest just before dawn.

I raced across the garden, grateful for Shona’s twinkle lights that offered a soft glow, so I didn’t trip over anything, and hit the road at a dead run. Shona’s place was situated at the bottom of a hill, just outside Loren Brae, and I panted as I crested the top of the hill, camera lifted.

There, the village of Loren Brae spread out before me, soft lights reflected across the rocky surface of the water, paint smudges on a dark canvas. Something shifted in thewater, a shadow of darkness, and I strained my eyes. My camera was already on, recording. Force of habit or refusal to miss a moment, I held it at my chest, hoping it would catch something that I wouldn’t be able to make out with the naked eye.

I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for.

Were the Kelpies big? Would they tower over me as they formed from a swell of water? Or perhaps they were smaller, like regular sized horses.

A shriek rattled me from my thoughts, careening across the frigid waters of Loch Mirren, the force of it slapping me back across the road. Fear warred with excitement as I tried to push forward, my camera raised. Again, some impenetrable force slapped me backwards.

A shape began to form in the water.

My breath caught.

A soft chuffing noise caught my attention, a snorting of sorts, and I twisted to see Eugene scuttling across the road.

“Eugene! No!”

I didn’t know what was about to happen, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Eugene got hurt. The hedgehog picked up pace, running along the side of the loch, and torn, I looked back to the water where a distinctive shape was starting to form, and then back to where the hedgie scuttled along.

“Damn it!” I dropped my camera, so it bounced at my neck, and ran after the hedgehog, needing to get him clear of the loch.

Truly, I had no idea how fast the little buggers were. My feet pounded on the pavement, my heart hammering in mychest, until Eugene skidded to a stop, and I scooped him up on the run like he was a little football.

A horrible crashing noise sounded behind me, and I whirled, Eugene tucked under my arm, to see a wall of water shattering down upon the exact spot where I’d just been standing. Without hesitation, I ran until I was back at the cottage, sweat dripping down my back under the fleece. Once there, I dropped onto the grass and put Eugene down on my lap.

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