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“Neither is a water horse. They’re massive. With tails that resemble the tail of a snake instead of horse and much shorter legs.”
“What about a guivre?”
Dougal considered this, brow furrowing. “A guivre is a French myth. Dragon-like creature that prowled medieval France. I’ve seen drawings. It resembles Nessie, except for the wings and breathing fire.” He sat up straighter, too. “They have horns, which a lot of Nessie sightings describe.”
“And which most experts have pointed out resemble the autumn horns of a red deer.”
“Aye,” Dougal said absently, Foghorn Leghorn resemblance firmly in place. “But they inhabit bodies of water and Scotland is a short trip from France.”
“Especially if you have wings,” Kris pointed out.
Dougal glanced at her, amusement brimming in his lovely gray eyes. It felt so good to be able to say what she thought instead of prevaricating so she wouldn’t have to lie.
“Guivres are said to be very aggressive,” he continued. “They attack humans.”
“And if they were real,” Kris said, “I’d be worried.”
His amusement deepened. “I just meant that I wasn’t sure if I should add the guivre to my display on possible legends that created Nessie. She isn’t violent.” His gaze returned to the loch, where the water remained as smooth as glass.
“See anything?”
When Dougal didn’t answer, Kris turned to look at him and he kissed her.
As kisses went, it wasn’t half-bad. His lips were firm but soft. His goatee tickled just a bit. Kris didn’t pull away, curious if perhaps the air in Scotland, or the water, would make her react to any kiss the way she’d reacted to Liam Grant’s.
No such luck. While the kiss was pleasant, it left her uninterested in anything more. She certainly wasn’t possessed by the urge to get naked with Dougal right here and now.
Should she be glad about that or sad?
A huge splash erupted, as if something had been dropped into the water. Like a piano.
Or a very large tail.
Kris and Dougal broke apart, Kris reaching for her camera as both of them glanced toward the loch.
But nothing was there.
CHAPTER 9
“Sorry about that,” Dougal said again as he dropped off Kris in front of her cottage. “It was just the…” He waved his hand toward the loch, where the moon reflected brilliant silver across a gently rolling surface.
“Don’t worry about it.” Kris got out of the car, lifting her hand when Dougal would have followed. “As kisses go, it was nice.”
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He winced. “Nice isn’t exactly what a guy’s hoping for.”
“Better than disgusting.”
Dougal laughed, and she felt better. She’d been afraid his kissing her, and her letting him, had ruined the friendship. And she wanted this friendship. She needed someone else in this Nessie-nuts town whom she could talk to.
“No harm, no foul,” Kris continued. “Thanks for taking me to The Clansman, and thanks for the fantastic meal.”
“You paid for your own.”
“But I wouldn’t have known about the place if not for you. Too bad we didn’t see Nessie.”
Dougal snorted, waved, then pulled away.
