Page 37 of Forever My Lass

“But what if Grace…” her voice trailed off as she took in Iain’s words. He shook his head at her unfinished question.

“Even Grace knows that what she sees is nae always the way things happen.”

A small tremor rippled through Madeline as she struggled with the thought of Grace seeing her drown. How was that possible? Madeline almost snorted out loud at the idiotic thought. She was stuck in the past and questioning Grace’s ability to see things? But what if she really was insane?

If she was, then her psychosis was unlike anything she’d read about in her textbooks. Everything was so real and tangible. The sensation of Iain’s hand holding hers was as real as any touch she’d experienced in her own time. Even if she was delusional and living in a reality only she could see and feel, it meant she hadn’t drowned. She was still alive, just like Iain had pointed out seconds ago. Another shiver rippled through her as she suddenly remembered Iain had mentioned himself. Had he seen her drowning too?

“Do you have this dara, or whatever you called it, too?”

“Nae,” he shook his head. Madeline narrowed her eyes at him.

“But you saw something that night, didn’t you?” He slowly released her hand, and clearing his throat, he straightened upright once more.

“Aye…I saw a woman on the cliffs who looked like you.”

“Like me?” she barely breathed the words.

“Aye. When she disappeared, I thought she’d gone down the path tae the inlet. I went after her, but she wasn’t anywhere tae be found.”

“Is that why you asked me if I’d seen the inlet before?” At her question, he nodded.

“After I pulled ye from the water and carried ye back tae the house, I realized ye were dressed exactly like the woman I saw.”

“You think I’m the woman you saw on the cliffs?” Madeline stared at Iain in amazement.

“Aye, the only other explanation is that I’m mad, but I know I’m not. It’s why I believe ye.” At his soft statement, Madeline stared at him dumbfounded. Wry amusement tilted his lips. “Ye cannae be any more astonished than me, mo bhòidhchead fuilt dorcha. But I do believe ye are telling me the truth.”

“You do?” Madeline shook her head as she tried to take in his words.

“Aye, but as I said, it’s best we dinnae mention this tae anyone else, or we shall both be carted off tae the asylum.”

Still thunderstruck, she stared at him in silence. He believed her. It didn’t matter how or why. It was simply enough that he believed her. Tension released its grip on her muscles, and she sagged slightly in her chair.

“Thank you,” she said in a hoarse voice.

Slowly, she pushed herself up out of her seat to sway slightly in front of him. Strong hands gripped her arms to steady her. Instantly, the heat of his touch sank through her clothes, down into the pores of her skin until it reached her blood. In seconds, his warmth cascaded through her until her entire body was feverish. It sent a tremor through her, and Iain frowned with worry.

“Are ye unwell, Madeline?” The rough concern in that silky soft brogue of his made her shake her head sharply, while fighting to maintain her equilibrium.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Ye dinnae look fine.”

“Well, I should know whether or not I’m fine,” she snapped as she scowled up at him. Exasperation echoed in the low rumble of sound that escaped him.

“Aside from Ainslie, I dinnae think I’ve ever met a more mulish lass,” he growled with exasperation. Despite knowing she could be bull-headed and stubborn, the less than flattering observation made Madeline stiffen, and her irritation helped her find her balance again.

“I am not hardheaded.” The lie tumbled off her lips before she could stop herself.

“And if I said the sky was blue, no doubt ye would say it was purple.” Iain snorted with a healthy dose of sardonic amusement. Madeline glanced at the window to see the overcast skies then looked up at him and smiled mockingly.

“Go ahead. Say it. Say the sky’s blue, because at the moment, it’s gray outside.” At her smug reply, Iain jerked his head to look out the window, and she grinned with satisfaction. “Next time make sure you’re right before you try to prove your point.”

Iain slowly turned back to her, and a small smile of something wicked touched his firm, incredibly delicious-looking mouth. Fire flared in his dark-blue eyes as he arched an eyebrow at her. Madeline swallowed hard, failing to stop the tremor shaking its way through her. The instant his hand cupped her chin, she sucked in a quick, sharp breath of air. She’d barely breathed in a second breath, when his thumb rubbed its way across her bottom lip. The sensual caress caused her heart to crash to a halt then resume its pounding as her entire body tightened with anticipation.

“There is one thing ye need tae ken about me, Madeline Whitworth. Dinnae ever dare me tae do something.” The moment he leaned into her, his tantalizing scent filled her senses. For a moment, his mouth hovered close to hers, before his head tipped to one side, and he nibbled at her earlobe. “Ye will nae win, especially if there is only a mere piece of fabric between my mouth and your sweet curves.”

The words immediately made it almost impossible to breathe as she tried to pull badly needed air into her lungs. Of their own volition, the muscles at the apex of her thighs tightened in response to his seductive brogue and the image his voice had created in her head. Heaven help her, in less than five seconds, the man had her on the brink of throwing herself at him. She gulped at the realization. Struggling to breathe, Madeline shivered as his mouth feathered light, almost intangible, kisses along her jawline.