Free The Summons by Jo Barrett Page A

without much trouble. And he was tall, taller than her, which wasn’t always the case with her dates.
    She was no slouch when it came to height, topping out at around five-foot-seven.
    “So, uh, where and when am I dreaming?” she asked.
    2

    The Summons

    “The where, be the Highlands, the when be the year of our Lord 1745.” He lifted a thin towel then came back to the tub.
    “Wow, a couple hundred years back. Oh, wait.
    That novel, it was a historical. Of course, that explains it.”
    Must have been a really good book, although she couldn’t for the life of her remember anything else about it. The man standing beside her stole more than just her breath. Cognitive thought seemed to be a bit elusive at the moment.
    “Come, lass. Up with you, afore you catch your death.”
    “Um, close your eyes.”
    He cast her a crooked grin. “If that be your wish, but I doona think you would… dream me up ta just hold a drying cloth.”
    She stood and snatched the towel from his hands. “Leave it to me to imagine a smart-ass,” she grumbled, quickly wrapping it around her body.
    His rough fingers cupped her chin and turned her head toward his. His mouth hovered above hers.
    “And I called a woman from the future with the body and face of an angel who possesses a mouth full of sass. Things are ne’er as we think, lass.” His lips brushed hers with the faintest of touches.
    She breathed him in, letting his rumbling Scottish lilt and oh-so-seductive mouth weave a spell around her. Yet one word popped into her mind and refused to be set aside by the gentle pressure of his lips. “Called?” she murmured beneath his persuasive lips. He lifted his head from hers. “I’ve the gift ta summon.” He released her face then gripped her around the waist and lifted her from the tub. She slid along his body as he lowered her feet to the cold stone floor.
    3

    Jo Barrett

    She bit back her groan of pleasure. “I don’t understand.”
    He drew one hand up, sensuously riding along her side, across her shoulder, to her cheek while the other kept her body pinned to his. He caressed her face and looked into her eyes.
    “I summoned ya ta me, lass. Across miles, across time.”
    “Why me?” She closed her eyes a moment, cursing herself for asking such a stupid question. He was in her dream, duh! If she weren’t careful she’d ruin what looked to be a pretty interesting night.
    “I didna know ‘twas you who would come, and from so far. I’ve ne’er done the like afore.” His deep green gaze flowed over her blonde, shoulder-length hair, across her face, then down to her lips. “And you are no’ what I imagined.”
    She cocked a hand on her hip, not liking where this dream was headed. “Gee, so sorry to disappoint you.”
    He laughed softly. “’Twas no’ meant ta be an insult, lass. You are spirited and beautiful, more than I’d hoped for. A man such as meself isna oft’ so lucky.”
    “Such as you? You’re not exactly ugly, you know.
    I wouldn’t dream up an ugly lover, I don’t think,” she half muttered to herself.
    With a laugh, he scooped her off the floor and carried her to the bed. “’Tis my station, lass. It wouldna’ have won me such a beauty withou’ the help of a wee bit of magic or gold. But we are well matched, you and I. Loving you will bring me more pleasure than I e’er dreamed.”
    “Um, well, don’t you think we should get to know each other first?” she asked weakly, hating herself for even mentioning it, but it did seem a bit rash to jump into bed right away. Even if it was just a dream.
    4

    The Summons

    “I canna say if the summons will last. Time we may no’ have. But I’ll be gentle with you.” He stripped out of his kilt and homespun shirt in mere seconds and was lying beside her completely and gloriously naked.
    “I—uh—” She swallowed hard. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and she’d seen plenty in her line of work. Although he had scars here and there, his