Free Highland Shifter (MacCoinnich Time Travel) by Catherine Bybee Page B

Really didn’t expect to have shoved him on his ass. Call it a twitch, instinct even. She’d been well practiced at keeping men away. Thanks to the foster homes and would-be father figures early in her life, Helen’s trust in men didn’t come quickly. She’d learned that men eager to catch her attention usually disappointed her. There had been very few she wanted close.
    Simon sorely tempted her.
    Helen wanted to believe he was honorable. But he was a man. A masculine, sexy chunk of the opposite sex who didn’t compare to any man she’d had the privilege of knowing.
    I ’m never going to get to sleep with all this chatter in my head!
    Helen battered her pillow again and attempted to clear her mind of all things Simon.
    She’d just closed her eyes when a soft mewing noise forced them open. Small furry paws pounced up on the foot of her bed and reflective eyes regarded her with caution.
    “I didn ’t know Mrs. Dawson had a cat.” Helen said to her feline companion. The large midnight black cat tilted its head to the side, taking cautious steps her way as if waiting for an invitation to curl up.
    “Who are you?” Helen asked the cat while reaching over to pet the beautiful coat.
    The cat rubbed its face into her palm and purred. “You’re certainly friendly.”
    Helen scratched the cat behind the ears. “Are you a Tom or a Tammy?” She looked and smiled. “Hi, Tom. I ’m sure that’s not your name, but it will have to do. I don’t usually sleep with strangers….” Her words drifted while the cat took up residence at her side. He circled a couple of times before making himself comfortable.
    “Well, okay then.”
    The cat licked his paws and settled his head against her hip. He watched her intently, stared actually.
    At least the cat had forced Helen ’s thoughts to something other than the man sleeping in the next room. Helen stroked the cat’s back until he purred and his eyes drifted close.
    For what it was worth, the cat offered some comfort and within minutes, Helen was in a world of dreams. Dreams of Highland kilt-wearing men who seduced women like they ’d gone to school to learn the art.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    The next morning the cat was gone. By the time Helen showered and left her room, thoughts of her furry bedfellow disappeared, and Simon refilled every corner of her brain.
    It was damn unnerving. Men weren’t to be trusted, even a Druid man with a hero complex. A serious sword swinging, damsel in distress saving, follow me I know what I’m doing, hero complex. His disturbing words about being uncertain if she’d vanish out of her comfortable world and find herself thrust into his at any moment, gave her nightmares. Life-size nightmares where Simon didn’t reach her in time, and the two smelly medieval men latched on to her in the overbearing way men did to weak women.
    But she wasn ’t a weak woman. Not anymore.
    Knowledge gave her control and control gave her power.
    They were missing a piece of vital information about how she’d managed to get to the sixteenth century, and Helen was hell-bent on finding out what it was.
    In the kitchen, Simon sat with a steaming cup of coffee, his eyes half open. “You look like how I feel,” Helen said as she crossed over to the pot and poured herself some much-needed caffeine.
    “Sleep here is difficult.”
    “It has to be more comfortable than what you ’re used to.”
    “What makes you think that?”
    Helen sat across the table from him and sipped her coffee.
    “I ’d think without electricity it would be either too hot or too cold. I doubt you have duel-pained windows and insulation.”
    He nodded. “You have a point there. Yet each room has its own fireplace for warmth. In the hotter months, we keep the windows open to catch the breeze. It isn ’t as bad as you may think.”
    “That ’s what people say who live back east. Cold is cold and hot is hot. No way around it.”
    “Aye. You ’re right on that count. But the