Page 8 of Shaw

In a wet suit?

She then wished, not for the first time, that she was a little smarter. Brainy people didn’t end up clueless in situations like this. If Eva were here, she’d probably already be booking a flight back to Cali on a radio she built out of stuff she had in her purse. Plus, she never would have married Mitch.

Quit thinking about Jerk-face. You’re in enough trouble right here with Gorgeous Tats.

Shaw stopped in front of an oak door with black iron hinges. “Forgive me, Caroline, but I must attend my lady now.”

“No problem.” The other woman opened the door for him, and then looked at Julianne and quickly winked. “If you need to talk with me, let Nyall know. I’m helping Jamaran patrol the bay in the afternoons.”

The interior of the room smelled of wood smoke and beeswax, and in a few strides Shaw carried her across to a large, soft bed that smelled of him. There he put her down, fussed with a pillow under her head and covered her with a wool blanket. When he finally walked away she looked through her lashes to see what he was doing. He went to a huge fireplace, where he picked up a split piece of wood, which suddenly burst into flame.

That made her freak out of playing possum.

“How the heck did you do that?” Julianne demanded, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“’Tis my mortal weakness.” He tossed the flaming chunk into the hearth and then picked up another, which also caught fire immediately. “I burn any wood I touch. ’Twillnae harm you.”

She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but even so, every time he touched one of the cut-up logs flames came out of it. So her rescuer had fire powers, fine. As hot as he was, it even made sense. She then looked at the bed, and noted that the frame had been covered in thin sheets of hammered copper. Everything else in the room was either stone, metal or some kind of pottery. He’d been setting wood on fire for a while, then.

“Okay, Chief, so, aside from the blowtorch fingers, what other powers have you got?” Julianne asked. “Can you hurl two people halfway around the world in a few seconds? Jump from the beach to the top of a cliff in a single bound? And tossing me across a room that made me faint, by the way, so don’t do that again. That must be why everyone here is afraid of you, too.”

“’Twas your doing, no’ mine. The ring you wear, ’tis bestowed on you the power so you may travel over distances great and small in but a moment.” Shaw turned his back on her. “As for me… ’Tis naught else you need ken, my lady.”

His voice went low as he said that last bit, and he reached for a long, sharp-looking knife.

Julianne nearly made it to the door before something oily and black poured through the air, turning into the man she’d rescued. She almost screamed, but when she saw his eyes she sensed that would be the same as stabbing him in the chest. Slowly she lifted her hands and backed away from him.

“That,” Shaw said, his eyes turning from black to dark gray, “’tis mine as well, only I cannae name such a boon.”

The words hung in the air, almost throbbing between them. Julianne had always been able to pick up stuff from people, especially when they tried to hide their true vibes. The chieftain hated whatever made him go dark like that. It also made it clear that everything else he’d told her was probably true, and definitely more than she could understand. Why she experienced a wave of awful pity as she looked into his eyes wouldn’t be so weird, but her breasts were still acting like it was the fourth of July and they were in charge of the fireworks, which was beyond extra.

Shaw was just as much of a mess as she was. Maybe worse.

How could she think that? Was this her going crazy? Did crazy people even know the moment they lost their minds? Maybe insane stuff seemed normal to them, in which case, she wasn‘t crazy, because this was absolutely, positively insane.

“Stand fast.” Shaw crouched down in front of her, and used the knife he’d grabbed to slice through some seaweed that had wrapped around her ankle. He then moved away from her and tossed the stuff into the fire.

Embarrassed now, Julianne imagined cartoon fire engines popping out in her cheeks to put out the burn.

“I’m sorry. Ah, look. This whole place is lit, really, and I’m glad we didn’t drown, but I can’t stay. I think there’s something wrong with part of my body. Most of my body. Like overactive nerves or something.” He turned and started walking toward her, so she kept backing up until her shoulders hit a stone wall. “Honestly, Shaw, I’m just a lifeguard. I have to get back to work now.”

“You’re no’ in your world, or your time,” he said, stopping a short distance from her. “You’ve been brought here by my sire’s—my father’s—magic. Prince Mar possessed dominion over the sea, which made him one of the most powerful Fae in the mortal realm. I swear ’tis truth, my lady.”

Julianne didn’t want to believe him, especially now that he’d mentioned magic of all things. What she really wanted to do was pull him closer, an impulse that bewildered her as much as the horrible pity that still pulsed inside her and the shooting stars that went on ricocheting inside her chest. Maybe that was because Shaw truly was the best-looking man she’d ever met, and being with him already felt like he was her OTP.

Never not oh no, no, no I can’t even. I thought Mitch was my one true pairing. If he finds out about Shaw he’ll use it against me in court.

Unless she was supposed to fall for this whole deal.

“Did my ex hire you guys to put a scare in me?” she had to ask. When he frowned, she added, “Mitchell Fumagalli? Big Italian guy? Real jerk?”

“I dinnae ken any such real jerk.” He said that slowly, as if unsure of the words. “The ring I gave you returned us together. ’Twas my sire’s—my father’s—magic.”

Shaw seemed to honestly believe in magic. This was just getting better and better.

“Why would your magical dad bring a lifeguard back in time with you? I’m not a superhero or Scottish, and I don’t belong in the twelfth century.” As soon as she said that she recalled the spooky voices she’d heard in her head just as she and Shaw had been pulled under that last time. “Wait, it’s you. I think I’m supposed to guard you.” At his bewildered look she told him what the voices had said to her.

“Why should my sire wish give me a female protector?” Shaw asked, looking as confused as she was now.