Falling in Time by Sue-Ellen Welfonder Page A

love potions and herbal treatments for masculine sexual dysfunction
that were kept in a locked cupboard in one of the shop’s darkest corners.
    Sweet lass, I need you….
    Lore’s voice came low and husky. Lindy
whipped around with a jolt, sure she’d felt his breath on her nape. Soft and
warm, it’d caressed her skin, making her tingle with desire and awareness. His
words, deep and rough-edged, let her know that he wanted her with equal passion.
But a quick glance showed that the room loomed empty. As before, nothing
stirred except the damp wind outside her window.
    She'd reached again for her pen and
notepad, pushing her Scottish hero from her mind.
    Sometimes it didn’t pay to have
such a vivid imagination.
    But hard work was always rewarded.
    If her Armchair Enthusiast Guide took off, she hoped to someday earn a living by immersing herself in the world
she loved best. Medieval Scotland, with all its mystery and magic, and where,
she knew in her heart, she should have born if only some cruel quirk of fate
hadn’t plunked her down in the wrong time and place, leaving her filled with
yearning for a life she couldn’t have.
    But she could write books
set there.
    Once she made a name for herself as
an expert on the must-see Highland hot spots of Celtic mythological fame.
    And that wasn’t going to happen
unless she stopped thinking about her romance novel’s hero and paid attention
to the task at hand. Such as studying her next morning’s route to one of the
most celebrated places on her two week tour through Scotland’s ancient
landscape.
    She peered at the Ordnance Survey
map that covered most of her bed. The map was a Landranger 9 and detailed every
inch of Cape Wrath, the wildest and remote corner of Scotland. Just seeing all
the squares, lines, and miniscule place names filled her with anticipation. This
was the part of her trip that most excited her. She’d never been to Scotland
before, but she’d dreamt of Sutherland all her life.
    Scotland’s far north was where she
belonged.
    The next day’s journey would feel
like going home.
    Already, she knew each twist and
turn of the way. Every curve of the shore road, the slender crescents of golden
sand, and even the forgotten homesteads, each one little more than a tiny dot
on her map.
    Looking at them now, her heart
skittered. Though nothing thrilled her as much as the special place she’d
explore in less than twenty-four hours. Said to be a portal to the Otherworld
as well as a favorite haunt of the fey, Smoo Cave would be the highlight of her
trip.
    She also meant to make it the piece
de resistance of her book.
    Levering up against the pillows,
she pulled the map onto her lap. But before she could trace her finger along
the pink-highlighted stretch of road she needed to follow around Loch Eriboll
and along the coast to Durness where the cave was located, the wind picked up,
slamming one of the shutters against the wall.
    Or so she thought until she
remembered the window wasn’t shuttered.
    If the banging noise had been the
sound of her door flying open….
    Lindy’s heart stopped and the fine
hairs on her nape lifted. Scotland wasn’t exactly known for crime, but there
were always exceptions. So she slowly looked up from the map and slid a
cautious glance across the room.
    What she saw took her breath.
    A man stood silhouetted against the
light from her dresser lamp. Tall, kilted, and too rock-solid to be her
imagination, he wore a very real-seeming sword at his hip and had a dark,
roguish air about him that made her mouth go dry and did funny things to her
stomach.
    He looked very much like Lore.
    Especially when his mouth curved in
a slow, sensual smile and he narrowed his gaze on her, his blue eyes going so
hot she gulped.
    “Ehhh…" Lindy’s attempt at
speech failed pitifully.
    The look in the man’s eyes went
even more provocative, proving he didn’t mind. “You err, sweetness." He
took a step forward, the lamplight gilding him. “I am no’