Chapter Ten
Gabriel felt badly for forcing Paige to tell her feelings. The girl stood there, staring straight back at him with more courage than she’d possessed a mere two days before, and he allowed it.
Christ, how he wanted to know how she felt.
Even if it meant making Paige MacDonald squirm for a moment or two.
He certainly knew how he felt. How, in such a short time, had he come to know it? But he did. And he prayed mightily she felt the same.
Paige MacDonald looked at her booted feet, drew a deep breath, then bravely stepped closer. She once more looked him square in the eye. No fear, Gabriel noticed now. Simple honesty.
His heart melted a bit more.
A slight smile tipped the corners of Paige’s mouth. “I don’t know if I’d be this bold, were you alive in the flesh,” she said. “I think you being a ghost gives me more strength and courage. I’m really shy around men I’m attracted to. Probably because I know they’re not usually attracted to me.”
Gabriel said nothing. He wasna too happy to hear she’d been attracted to other men, but that couldna be helped, he supposed. A gaggle of idiots, those modern men, and all the better for himself, he thought. He held his breath—such as it was—and waited.
She assessed him head to toe, and seemed to concentrate mightily on her words.
Almost as if they surprised her, too. She shrugged.
“I don’t know, but for the very first time in my life I feel wanted.
” She tipped her head back, lifted her wee hand, and grazed the line of his jaw.
“And thanks to a single, solitary look from you. I feel as though I’ve known you my whole life, Gabriel.
” She laughed softly. “I feel comfortable around you; all of my senses are heightened. I feel alive.” She again shrugged.
“And I also feel as though it was meant for me to book a self-driving tour of the Scottish Highlands in the dead of winter, and that it was meant for my car to die and for me to find my way here, to Gorloch.” She wrapped her arms around herself and blushed that appealing shade of red. “To find my way to you.”
Gabriel’s heart pounded fast and hard in its ghostly cage.
Every nerve ending that really didna exist hummed with pent-up emotions.
He clenched his fists, since the alternative was to make a feeble and useless attempt to grab Paige up in his arms and devour her.
He drew a deep breath, because he knew if he wanted any sort of physical bond with her, he’d have to go painfully slow.
He didna wish to keep making a pitiful grab for her, only to fall through her.
Slowly, he lifted his hand and traced the sweeping line of fair hair that hung beside Paige’s jaw. With the pad of his thumb he smoothed both darkened circles beneath her eyes. Then he traced her lush lips with his fingers.
He’d never wanted to touch a woman so fiercely in all his existence, dead or alive.
“I am a selfish man, Paige MacDonald, for it pleases me to know you’ve been alone all this time.” He placed a knuckle beneath her chin. “Look up at me.”
She did.
“I now understand why I died when I did, and why I’ve roamed Gorloch for all these centuries past.” He lowered his mouth to hers and brushed over them once. “I’ve been waiting for you, Paige. You were meant to be mine.”
Paige’s insides shook with something. An overwhelming sense of joy? Fear? Uncertainty?
Love?
She didn’t know, and didn’t want to try to know. Not now. All she wanted to do now was to listen to Gabriel’s deep, accented voice wash over her with words she never dreamed she’d ever hear, from anyone.
Especially from someone like Gabriel Munro.
Her fingers itched to grab onto him, pull him to her, and never let him go.
Even though Paige couldn’t really experience the touch of his mouth on her skin, she felt it, inside.
On the surface, nerve endings tingled, and she knew it was from Gabriel’s spirited energy.
Yet in her imagination, she could easily picture and sense his strong lips grazing hers; his tongue brushing against her own; and his mouth moving in slow, erotic kisses over her jaw, her ear, and down her throat. Even his uneven breathing sounded real.
It made her shiver.
It made her groan . . .
“Christ, Paige,” Gabriel said, in nearly a growl.
“You’re drivin’ me daft, lass.” He pulled back and searched her eyes.
“I’ve ne’er wanted so badly to have a woman as badly as I want you.
” He shut his eyes, then looked at her. “We’ve got to figure out something else to occupy our time, lass,” he said, although the grin on his face looked strained.
“I fear I shall lose control and make a daft fool o’ myself otherwise. ”
Paige shuddered at his words, and to be honest, she thought she just might self-combust and make a fool of her own self.
She connected with Gabriel so deeply; it was almost as if he truly could touch her.
She barely trusted her voice, so she cleared her throat and nodded.
“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she asked, “What do you suggest?”
Gabriel’s green eyes turned dark, smoky. One brow lifted, and two dimples pitted his cheeks.
Paige felt her skin grow hot.
Gabriel laughed. “Right, lass. Do you feel up to a midwinter’s walk through the wood?
I can only go as far as the Gorloch property line, but there’s another fine path that Craigmire’s wife takes.
Afterward, we’ve got to get some food in that growling belly,” he said, pointing at her stomach. “Mayhap then we could watch a movie?”
Paige stared in disbelief. “You watch movies?”
Gabriel shrugged and grinned. “Aye, loads of them. Especially the American movies. Die Hard is one of my favorites. Craigmire has quite a collection of fine DVDs.”
Paige looked at him, then burst out laughing.
A sexy smile stretched across Gabriel’s even sexier face. “What’s so funny, lass?”
Paige shook her head and glanced at the roaring fire in the hearth. “Only I would stumble across the man of my dreams, only to find he’s a spirit of nearly nine hundred years and he watches modern American movies.”
“Is that what I am?” he asked quietly, then lowered his head to catch her gaze. “The man o’ your dreams?”
Paige bravely met his stare. She’d not admit anything else. “Absolutely.”
An indescribable expression—perhaps one of amazement— crossed Gabriel’s face, and then he smiled. It was stunning. “That is by far the verra best Yuletide wish come true, indeed. Come, then. Let’s get you bundled up for our midwinter’s walk before it gets too dark.”
Minutes later, Paige was encased in the thick wool of Craigmire’s coat, two pairs of woolen socks, Craigmire’s Wellies, a scarf, and her thick knitted hat pulled over her ears.
“Ready?” she said, taking the last of the steps down to the great hall.
Gabriel smiled and shook his head. “You look like a wee fairy drowning in a sea o’ wool.” He drew close. “You look a mite more fetchin’ in that woolly than Craigmire does, I’ll warrant,” he said. “Too bad Mrs. Craigmire took her wee coat. ’Twould have fit you perfectly.”
Paige glanced at him. He laughed.
“To the wood?” he said.
With a chuckle, Paige opened the door and stepped out into the frozen Highland air. “Always.”
As they followed the same path they’d taken earlier to pick out a tree, they walked in comfortable silence.
Paige’s boots crunching through the powdery snow broke the wintry quiet of Gorloch.
It struck her how she made the only noise, and that in another time, Gabriel’s big booted feet would have joined hers in the crunching.
Slowly and as covertly as possible, Paige slipped a glance at the tall Highlander walking next to her.
Just as easily as if he were alive and well, he moved with a heavy sort of grace that she didn’t really expect.
That long plaid wrapped about his shoulder, hips, and waist and connected by a brooch, and those worn boots that reached his knees—they all seemed as much a part of him as her jeans were of her.
His arms and chest were bare and muscular, and his dark hair hung loose and wild below his shoulders.
A fine dusting of like-colored dark hair dusted his forearms, and ropelike veins twisted up and around his hands and wrists, all the way up to his biceps and across each shoulder to his chest.
Gabriel Munro was absolutely the most magnificent man she’d ever laid eyes on.
And he was all hers. . . .
She could hardly believe it.
“Och, how I’d trade me tricks o’ conjurin’ for one o’ mind readin’,” Gabriel said, breaking into her thoughts. “I have a feelin’ I’d fancy what I found.”
Paige gave a nervous laugh and stepped over a snow-l aden branch. “I’m very glad you can’t. I’d be way too embarrassed.”
“Is that so?” he said, chuckling. “ ’Tis too intriguing to let go. Tell me. What were you thinking?”
Paige looked first at her surroundings, and how the grayness of the winter’s day had seeped into the late afternoon. Everything was gray and white, with a splash of dark green from the Scots pines and brown from a pine cone or exposed branch.
“You’re stalling.”
Paige gave a light laugh. “You’re absolutely right, and I’ll keep my embarrassing thoughts to myself, thank you very much.”
“Hmm,” he said as they entered a small clearing. “A lass with a verra strong will. ’Tis a fine quality I admire.” He leaned in close and brushed his mouth close to her ear. “ ’Tis a quality that stirs me.”
Paige knew then she turned the absolute brightest red she’d ever turned.
Gabriel confirmed it with a booming laugh that echoed through the snow-covered pine boughs.
At the clearing, Gabriel pointed out a large rock for Paige to sit on. She did, and he leaned in close to her.
“See you there,” he said, pointing toward a narrow stream. “Be verra quiet, so you dunna scare it off.”
Paige stared through the gray mist and her eyes landed on a Highland stag.
Magnificent, shaggy, and red, it stood with its head erect and ears forward, staring into the bramble, awaiting the least small sound.
With its black cloven foot, it pawed at the ground then lowered its head to search for a buried blade of grass in the snow.
“Beautiful,” Paige said as she breathed a sigh, intrigued by a wild buck nestled in the loveliest of winter settings.
“Indeed,” Gabriel whispered, very close.
Paige looked up into Gabriel’s eyes and smiled.