Page 55 of Sinful Scot
Rhys was frowning now, and he leaned forward. “Did you catch this man’s name?”
The woman shook her head, but then she said, “Ye sound like him, too. Very odd brogue the two of ye share. But ye do nae dress oddly. He did. I can nae even tell ye what he wore. I’ve never seen the likes of it.” She looked at Maggie. “If it matters, he was pleasing to the eyes…like this man.”
“My husband,” Maggie said, no longer jealous, now just shocked.
The woman flushed. “Oh.”
“Did you happen to hear anything else?” Rhys asked, and Maggie detected the excitement in his tone. Was he thinking what she was?
The woman stood there for a long moment, head tilted, eyes seeming distant, and then she snapped her fingers. “He said his mother was Shona MacKinnish, and I know he eventually left with a man named Ross MacKinnish. Oh, and he had a scar on his right jaw!”
Maggie looked immediately to Rhys whose mouth had parted with shock. She could not wait for the woman to leave so Maggie could speak freely. “What will ye have to drink?”
“Wine,” they both said in unison.
When they were finally alone, they leaned toward each other, holding hands across the table, and their gazes collided. “Which brother came through?” Maggie asked.
Rhys smiled. “Greyson. He’s got a scar on his right jaw.”
“Rhys,” Maggie said, squeezing his hands, “if he left with your uncle Ross that means he’s safe.” They’d not actually met Ross MacKinnish yet, but Shona had told them about her brothers, and they all sounded like good men. Shona had seen Ross before Rhys and Maggie had arrived at Castle Hightower and had told him her tale, which meant when Greyson told Ross who he was, the man would have had reason to believe him.
Rhys nodded. “Thank God.”
“Do ye think yer other brothers came through, as well?” If they had, maybe one had the cross with him, and then they could return to the future. She and Rhys had many long talks on the journey here and had decided that if they eventually came into possession of the time walking cross Yearger had stolen they would definitely return to the future with Rhys’s mom. Rhys wanted to be with his dad and his brothers, and Maggie understood that.
“I don’t know,” Rhys answered, his gaze holding hers. “If so, that would mean they have the cross, and we could time walk, and if not, that means we still have no way to return to the future. I want to know as much as I’m sure you do since it affects you, too, but we won’t get answers tonight. Maybe not for a while. What I do know is we need to get control of your castle and reunite you with your sister so you can find peace with her and possibly say goodbye.”
Maggie’s throat constricted at that. She would not change her decision to go to Rhys’s time, yet she wished, if they were able to go, it would happen after she learned the truth about her sister and was certain Deirdre was all right. Though she had no proof, in her heart, she did not believe Deirdre would betray the king or her. Rhys and his family were not as willing to trust, which she did understand.
“None of that will happen tonight,” Rhys said, finishing his thought. “It’s late, and we are finally going to get to sleep together without being surrounded by others. Do you know what I want to do?” He gave her the wolfish look that could thaw her on even the coldest of nights.
“Ye want to spend one of our many long, slow nights together?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t too tired.
“You read my mind, Mags,” he replied with a wink.
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The story of the McCaim brothers continues in book 2,Sexy Scot. You can get a sneak look into chapter one below.
Chapter One
New Orleans, Louisiana
Present Day
“Holy fuck.”
Greyson and his brothers dropped the silver cross at the same time, the plush Persian rug in their father’s study capturing its fall. Staring at it, and then each other, none of them spoke, all of them acutely aware of the empty space where their brother Rhys had been standing moments before. Even Ian was stunned into silence, a rarity for the youngest McCaim.
“What the hell just happened?” Reikart asked.
None of them had the answer. Rhys’s disappearance was illogical. It should have been impossible. And yet, there was no disputing he was gone. Their big brother, the person who’d always held them together, had just disappeared on the final word of the ancient Gaelic chant none of them had thought would work.
“No.” Greyson recoiled from the others, shaking his head. “No.”
“Grey, he’s gone,” Ian said. Both he and Reikart were looking at Greyson expectantly, as if they thought he would know what to say. What to do.
But he had... nothing. Business was his expertise, not magic. He’d always thought their father’s fixation with time travel and ancient Scotland was the product of a sick mind, an inability to cope with their mother’s disappearance. He’d never imagined there might be something to it.
