Ghosts of Culloden Moor 04 - Payton by L.L. Muir

Author:L.L. Muir [Muir, L.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-08-10T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Grace was pretty proud of herself for being able to think clearly the next morning, let alone have the forethought to send the Scot’s clothes to be pressed. But there was something sobering about defying one’s mother on the day of your sister’s wedding, and if she intended to have Fitz wear his kilt again, he was going to look good doing it.

Not that he wouldn’t look incredible in just a robe—if there had been one his size.

She’d hoped to have the outfit back before the man woke up, but he turned out to be an early riser.

He’d opened the curtains and figured out the coffee maker and she privately cursed him for the first and blessed him for the second as she walked carefully to the kitchenette, shielding her eyes from both the sunlight and what the Scottish god might or might not be wearing.

“What have ye done with my plaid, lass?” His soft words made her think that maybe he knew she had a hangover. “And please doona say ye’ve changed yer mind about allowing me to wear it, for ye canna attend yer sister’s wedding on the arm of a man covered with only a towel. And I’ve my heart set on escorting ye.”

She started to shake her head, but stopped when internal bells started ringing between her temples. “I sent them out to be pressed. They’ll be back in time.”

“I thank ye for that, then. And now I’ll thank ye to drink this before the coffee.” He lifted her arm and pressed a mug into her hand.

“What is it?”

“A bit o’ the dog. Go on now. Gulp now, taste later.” He nudged her arm up.

No matter what it was, it couldn’t hurt any worse than her current pain, so she did as she was told. The first time she swallowed, she realized she’d made a horrible mistake, but the second gulp was on its way to the back of her mouth and it was either spit it all out into the man’s face or suck it up, so she grabbed onto his arm to brace herself and forced the rest of it down.

He laughed when she started beating on his chest with one hand. “Here now. Wash it down with the coffee. Not too hot, now.”

Another mug was pushed into her hand and she didn’t care if it scalded her, she just had to get that…crud taste off her tongue!

It didn’t burn, just like he’d promised, but she decided she was never going to trust him again anyway.

“What was in that?”

“Best ye doona ken, lass. But ye may want a wee lie down while the effects take hold, aye?”

“Aye,” she whispered and headed back to the bedroom with the coffee cup, her hand still over her eyes. Just as she was closing the door to the bedroom, she had a horrible lapse in self-control and peeked back toward the kitchen—just to make sure he had been wearing that towel while they’d been talking.

He was leaned

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