Page 19 of Dark Rival

He guided her toward a chair. “Come have lunch with me. Then we’ll plan our day. If ye like, I’ll take ye on a tour of the country.”

Our day. Allie sat, realizing eating would be impossible, because all she wanted to do was stare at him, drown in his masculine beauty and pinch herself to see if she was dreaming. He grinned, as if he guessed her thoughts. “Mrs. Farlane? Miss Monroe has come down to dine,” he called. Then he poured her coffee.

IT WAS LATE when they returned to Carrick, having spent the entire day touring the Highlands in his silver Lamborghini. He drove well but fast and they hadn’t talked very much—there was no need. Allie had been so happy just to be with him. They had stopped for lunch at the magnificent Dunain Park Hotel in Inverness, where the proprietors had fawned over them both—she had been recognized. And they had wandered about the ruins of Urquhart, where they’d also made love behind a ruined stone wall. Now, as Royce parked the car in one of his garages, Allie wandered back into the castle. Supper would be a late affair, but she didn’t care.

She was about to go upstairs to freshen up and call home when she caught a flash of brilliant color from the corner of her eye. Posed to go upstairs, her heart leapt and she turned around to face the aura that had caught her attention. A strange man stood in the great room. He emanated the same warrior power as Royce: holy strength vibrated from him in red and gold waves of light. Testosterone charged his aura, too. But he also radiated a white, healing light, even if faintly. Most importantly, the blue and purple in his aura told her that his Karma was huge—but far from mastered. In fact, he would pay a high price for it.

Allie knew she was meeting another Master, and excitement began. He stared at her, as well, smiling. She came forward curiously. Taller than Royce, he had fair skin, dark hair and he was Hollywood-leading-man handsome. He was wearing a slick black leather jacket with distressed jeans and he was young—maybe her own age.

He grinned more widely at her, revealing two dimples, while his gaze slid over the ivory corset top she wore with a print circle skirt. “Hallo.”

Her interest peaked. He appeared modern, but she had a sudden sense that he was not from the present, in spite of his clothes. “Hi. You’re a Master, too.”

His eyes widened. “Royce has talked very freely in yer bed.”

“I can see your aura and it reeks of a few pretty specific traits. I’m Allie.” She came forward and held out her hand.

He took it and, instead of shaking it, lifted it to his lips. “I’m the lord of Awe, the earl of Lismore. But ye may address me as Aidan.” A grin followed his rather arrogant tone.

Allie wasn’t all that surprised by the gallant, Old World kiss. Definitely for Tabby, she thought. “How old are you?”

He dropped her hand, amused. “I’m old enough for ye, lass.”

“I’m with Royce.”

“T’is evident. I’m pleased for him. But I willna mind much if ye decide Royce is too old for ye.” His smile flashed. “I’m only thirty an’ two years of age.”

This man was wearing modern clothes, but he was not a modern man. “What year did you come from?”

He stared, his smile fading. “That’s an odd question.” Then, “I followed Royce from 1430.”

Before she could decipher that bit of startling information, Royce strode into the great room. And it was her Royce, the modern, insatiable, supersexed lover she had spent the past twenty-four hours with. Even though they’d spent the night and day together, her heart raced madly as he approached.

But Royce was grim and unsmiling. “What are ye doing here, Aidan?” he asked.

The dark Highlander came forward, unperturbed by the cool greeting. “Have ye lost yer mind? Ye canna recall that I followed ye to help ye if ye needed me?”

Royce looked him up and down, disapproval on his face. “That was six centuries ago. I see that you’ve broken the rules again.”

“Ye ken I hate rules. They cage my poor soul.”

“Ye followed me five centuries ago when I was a younger man—but ye dinna help me fight Moffat in South Hampton. My memory hardly fails me.” Royce was sharp and cold.

“Ye dinna need my help. Ye battled Moffat alone easily enough. I decided to go to Rome.” He shrugged. “I thought to come to Carrick and see what ye decided to do with the Healer.” He grinned. “Finally ye come to yer senses, eh, Royce?”

Royce seemed annoyed.

Allie said, “What does that mean?”

Aidan looked at her. “It only took him hundreds o’ years to find some pleasure outside o’ bed with a woman.”

Royce’s stern expression did not ease. He turned away, walking over to the sideboard as Allie deciphered the conversation. In South Hampton, Royce had appeared from 1430 to help her fight the demons. Aidan had followed him from that time, but had not helped them in the battle. Instead he had gone to Rome. Then he had stopped by Carrick to check on her, which did not make sense. But Royce was clearly not amused. “Ye need to go back to yer time as the Code requires—without the jacket an’ jeans.”

“I spent hours shopping in Rome!” Aidan exclaimed. “But I see ye have barely changed—ye remain far too grim. I’ll go.” Aidan turned to her. “At least ye make him smile. T’is a vast improvement.”

Allie wondered at that and said, “FYI, there’s better shopping in Milan.”

“Dinna encourage him,” Royce told her. “The Code is clear. He travels for his own pleasure…t’is strictly forbidden.”