My Highland Lover by Maeve Greyson

sound of someone who had just been insulted. “I dare say I am no’ an elder to ye. How old do ye think I am?”
    Trulie combed her fingers back through her hair.
Crime-a-nitly!
Couldn’t she keep her foot out of her mouth for five minutes? Now she had insulted the man by insinuating he was old. She smoothed both hands along the sides of her head and tucked her stubborn curls back behind her ears. “I don’t think you’re old. I have no idea how old you are, and I really don’t care. You said you were the chieftain so I figured you were probably very…mature.” Well, that sounded lame. Somebody just needed to hand her a shovel so she could bury herself in the hole she had just dug with her mouth.
    “I have no’ been head of m’clan verra long. M’father died a short time ago.”
    “Oh. I am so sorry.” Trulie’s heart dropped with a painful thud. The poor man. No wonder he was so intense. Not only had he just lost his father, but he hadn’t been a leader to his people very long.
    Gray’s heavy sigh echoed through the room.
    Trulie pulled a strand of hair free and nervously curled it around one finger. After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, she leaned toward the blue cloud sitting across the table. Maybe the third time would be the charm. She had to find out what Tamhas meant about helping this man. There was just something about this whole situation filling her with an almost uncomfortable amount of anticipation.
I’m meant to do something here. I can feel it.
Was this why Granny had been so adamant about hurrying back to the past? “How can I help you, Chieftain MacKenna?”
    The vibrant deep-blue of Gray’s aura shifted to a dark, disturbing cloud of mist. Trulie eased back in the chair.
Holy crap.
Now what had she said to upset the poor man?
    “Gray.”
    Trulie folded her hands in her lap and nodded. “Yes. Your aura has turned gray. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
    “No,” Gray said a bit louder. “I would rather ye call me Gray—if ye dinna mind.”
    “Oh.” Trulie caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She had never had so much trouble communicating with another human being in her entire life. What the devil was wrong with her? It had to be because she had to rely solely on her extra senses. Yes. That had to be it. Trulie took another sip of water. No way did the zero comfort level of this conversation have anything to do with the fluttery feeling batting its wings around her stomach every time Gray MacKenna rolled his
r
s in her direction.
    Trulie batted a tickling curl away from her forehead and leaned forward again. “Okay, Gray. What was Tamhas talking about? He said I was the only one who could help you. So I’m asking…help you with what?”
    The loud scraping of a chair hurriedly pushed aside, accompanied by the elongation of the murky aura in front of her told Trulie that Gray now stood. The cloud of color receded, then bounced back and forth with a jerking rhythm. Trulie blinked hard and tried to focus.
Geez.
She wished she could see the man. It was hard to relate to a bouncing blob of shifting mist.
    “My parents were murdered. Burned to death in the north tower. I believe the fire was no accident.” The pacing stopped as Gray’s aura darkened even more with his pain. “I intend to find and pass judgment on the killer. Tamhas said ye would know exactly how to make that come to pass. He said ye had the sight.”
    Trulie leaned back against the support of the chair and swallowed hard. Murdered? Burned to death? A violent shudder shook through her. What a horrible way to die. And that explained a lot about the eerie feeling of this place battering against her senses.
    “I…” Trulie opened her mouth then closed it. What the heck do you say after hearing something like that?
    “Once ye find the bastard…or bastards who started the fire, I will handle the rest.”
    Gray’s voice growled with emotion. Raw anger and a thirst for vengeance