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tissue out of her pocket, Nessa dabbed at the sweat on her face. She accepted the water from the winking attendant, and gulped at the welcomed drink.
    She glanced around the cabin at all the smiling faces then edged up to Trish with a breathless whisper, “I think I just had my first mind-blowing orgasm.”

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
    At least they had placed his shelf so he had a decent view of the streets. Latharn’s humorless laugh echoed off the glass walls of his prison. His shelf. After six hundred years, he’d reduced himself to referring to his prison as though he were a child’s bauble in the nursery.
    “Brodie, my love, what did ye do with the crate of hand painted-dishes Moira brought round yesterday eve?” Fiona MacKay’s voice lilted from the stockroom at the back of the store.
    Latharn heaved a bored sigh as he leaned up against the clear, curved wall. This century’s guardians—his descendants, Brodie and his wife, Fiona—were decent enough, but he failed to see their interest in this little shop they’d decided to set up in Balnakiel. Fiona should be home having babies and Brodie should be caring for the MacKay estate while they waited for Nessa’s arrival in Scotland. Yet there the man stood in the corner with a dust rag in his hand as though he were some sort of chambermaid. And if Brodie bent over one more time and gave Latharn a clear view of his arse in that kilt, Latharn was going to pelt him with an object from the other side of the shop. His distant cousin’s hairy backside was not the view he preferred in all of Scotland.
    “I’ve already brought them in here, my love. I thought they’d best be displayed on the shelves in this bay window facing the street.” Brodie ran his cleaning rag around the edges of the newly installed windows. He’d polished the panes clean and clear in the dawning light of the day.
    “They’d be better displayed in the garbage bin.” Latharn snorted as he leaned closer to the walls of his cell. “Those things are hideous. I wouldn’t use them to feed the swine.”
    Fiona emerged from the chaos of the stockroom, pushing her damp hair back from her face. She nodded at Brodie’s results with the sparkling panes. She shoved up her sleeves and bent to pull the plates from their bubble wrap and stack them on the shelves. She paused with a plate held in midair as a flickering purple light cast a haze across her apron.
    “Did ye notice your cousin over there appears to be more active these days since we’ve placed him in the shop?” Fiona nodded toward Latharn on the high shelf behind the counter, where he stood inside the glowing glass sphere perched on a hand-carved wooden stand.
    A surge of pride swelled through Latharn’s chest. Ah yes, there was a job well done indeed. It had taken him quite a while to guide Brodie to Fiona. The hardest part was getting the hardheaded fool to propose. A few subconscious suggestions here and there and now the lad had finally settled down. Little did Brodie know that Latharn had scared away all his other girlfriends. Latharn didn’t like those modern girls. Brodie needed a woman who loved tradition and would watch over him. Fiona was all of that. Latharn had watched her. He had chosen her for his descendent. Everyone needed a little guidance now and then.
    Tossing the rag on the counter, Brodie studied the pulsating globe. “Aye, I’ve noticed. I wonder if we’ll be the generation to see Cousin Latharn released from his wee crystal tomb.”
    Latharn tensed at Brodie’s words. There would be no wondering about this subject. Nessa was on her way to Scotland right now. He had brought her this close. Latharn would not consider the fact that Nessa would draw this close to him and then fail to break the curse.
    Fiona stretched and lifted the violet ball from the shelf. She eased it to the counter between them for its daily polishing.
    “Can ye imagine being imprisoned for nearly six hundred years inside a