Read Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travel) for Free Online Page B

it?”
    “Excuse me?” he asked.
    Helen ran a hand over her arm as if chasing away the cold. “You know something.”
    Definitely Druid. The lass displayed a sixth sense that helped her read people. The women in his family were far better at it than the men.
    With as much dignity as one could manage when wrapped in a blanket, Simon stood and made a grand gesture of bowing. “My lady, Helen, allow me to introduce myself.”
    She held perfectly still, waiting.
    “Simon McAllister, at your service.”
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Helen laughed in his face. “Right. Dude, you are not a fourteen year old kid.”
    “True. But Simon McAllister I am.”
    “The men in the woods called you MacCoinnich.”
    “A name my stepfather honored me with when he married my mother, Elizabeth McAllister, now Elizabeth MacCoinnich.”
    “You’re not fourteen.” So far away from fourteen, in fact, Helen needed to remind herself to keep her eyes glued to his or risk licking her lips while gazing at his very manly chest.
    “You ’ve just traveled from a forest in the Highlands to your apartment in California in only minutes. Believing I am the Simon McAllister you’re searching for can’t be impossible.
    One crisis at a time. Emergencies were tumbling over themselves screaming for attention, but she could only deal with one drama at a time.
    This would be easier with wine.
    Without another word, Helen walked around the massive man in her bathroom and made a beeline for the kitchen. She found an unopened bottle of Cabernet and set it on the counter with a plop. The man watched her every move, but she didn’t bother with explanations or even conversation. Not yet.
    Scotland. They ’d both been in Scotland an hour ago.
    She rummaged through a drawer and found a corkscrew. Maybe she was dreaming. Yeah, that must be it. She was asleep. Why on earth would any dream of hers with a man draped in nothing but a throw, involve men slicing through her leg with swords? And, why the hell did it hurt so much?
    Helen struggled with the cork for a couple of seconds before it popped free from the bottle. She poured a generous portion of wine into a tall, plastic glass before lifting it to her lips for a long drink.
    She probably should have tried something stronger. Whisky. Leaning a hip along the counter, she watched the man in her apartment settle his very sexy ass on the backside of her sofa and regard her without saying a word.
    Simon?
    The boy in her picture had dark hair and blue eyes.
    Helen went ahead and allowed her gaze to settle on her guest’s face.
    Dark hair, blue eyes.
    Big deal. Half the men in this country had those characteristics.
    After another drink, Helen let her shoulders relax. She couldn ’t completely. Her body was too charged to let go of the energy of the day. Humming. She was positively humming and had been since she’d first laid eyes on this man. That same hum had sizzled when he touched her.
    Even his innocent touch while tending to her leg felt like a thousand butterfly wings brushing against her skin—similar to the buzz she ’d felt before she’d found the book in Mrs. Dawson’s library, and the same buzz that had struck when she’d first seen the picture of Simon.
    What did that say?
    If the man in front of her wasn’t Simon, what would he gain by saying he was?
    “You ’re Simon?”
    “Aye.”
    “How old are you?”
    “Thirty.”
    “Exactly how is that possible?”
    “Time travel.”
    What did she expect him to say? Falling through a rabbit hole and waking in the Land of Oz didn’t hold a candle to this conversation.
    “Time travel.”
    Simon folded his roped-with-muscle arms across his chest. His lips didn’t crack into a chiding smile. He was serious.
    “Two years ago, your time, my mother and I were whisked back in time, just as you were today. We found happiness there and decided to stay.”
    “Decided?”
    He nodded. “Yes.”
    She took another drink. Damn glass wasn’t full enough