Stone Guardian (16 page)

Emma’s heart lifted. “That’s just perfect, Moira—”

“And be certain to ask for Flora. She’s m’sister and she’ll ensure the delivery boy doesna think he can dawdle along the way.”

Emma’s heart fell. Moira’s
sister
.
Great.
Emma was going to call Moira’s sister and ask them to deliver the biggest package of condoms the store carried. That would go over like a turd in a punch bowl. Flora would probably break her neck getting back to the phone to call and report to friendly, sweet,
old-fashioned
Moira that the lovely young doctor from the United States had somebody in her bed and they were exhausting the island’s supply of condoms.
Just great.

“Dr. Em, are ye there?”

Moira’s concerned voice broke through Emma’s internal turmoil. “I’m here, Moira.” Emma gulped in a fortifying breath, glanced again at the steaming bathroom door and covered her eyes with her free hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have that number, would you?”

Emma repeated the number over in her head while she fished a pen and notepad out of her bag. Jotting down the numbers, she heard the creak of the bathroom door and glanced up just in time to see Torin’s glistening buttocks disappear into the bedroom.

Emma swallowed hard as her lower extremities flared to white-hot attention. Yep. Moira’s sister or no Moira’s sister. She had to get those condoms—just in case Torin stayed.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The bit of meat called a
hot dog
wasn’t half bad—as long as it truly wasn’t dog. Torin eyed the pinkish chunk peeping out from the bun as he rolled the first taste around in his mouth. With a shrug, he shoved the other half of the cheese-slathered morsel into his mouth. But then again, ’twas no’ as good as a plate of roasted fowl and a chunk of freshly baked brown bread. Torin glanced toward the gleaming black box sitting on the counter. What strange things this time held. Stirring a spoon through the bowl of stew on his plate, Torin watched the steam rise from the rich soup. “What magic makes the box heat the food? Do ye release the box’s energy by twisting that silver knob?”

Emma glanced toward the microwave and shrugged. “I’m not quite sure how to explain it. It’s atomic motion stirring the molecules of the food. The faster they’re agitated, the hotter the food becomes.”

Torin stared at the food then glanced back to Emma. Her soft, full lips ripped his attention away from the strange explanation when they formed the most delicious looking pucker while she blew on her own steaming spoonful of stew. His body immediately thrummed to attention.
Lore.
He forced himself to lean back in the chair instead of pulling her across the table and revisiting the sweetness of that luscious mouth. Shaking himself out of the erotic reverie, Torin turned his attention back to his bowl. What the hell had the woman just said about something stirring the food to make it hot? “I dinna understand. There is no fire
or
magic to warm the food?”

A sympathetic smile tugged at the corner of Emma’s tempting mouth. “I don’t understand it myself, Torin. I just know when I turn the knob it works.”

That made him feel a bit better but uneasiness still stirred within him. This world had changed in so many ways. The strange silver spout in the wall that spewed either scalding hot water or an icy cold stream depending on how much the white handles twisted against the pipes. A horseless carriage that jarred a man’s body with such evil magic that the strongest warrior would retch. And now a strange box that took raw food and transformed it into steaming hotness within the blink of an eye. And all with the simple twist of a silver knob. Madness. Sheer and utter madness.

Torin didn’t belong here. He had to convince Emma to help him reseal the portal so the
Cailleach
would grant him passage to the next realm and allow him to join his clan. This place and time held nothing but confusion for him. His time in this reality had passed long ago. So much confusion. So many unknowns.

Torin stole another glance across the table, distracted for a moment from his thoughts by the tempting curve of Emma’s breasts straining against the thin material of her shirt.
And what about her?
Torin swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in his mouth. Now that he’d discovered the pleasures of her touch—and so much more, how could he bear to leave Emma behind? Torin pushed away from the table. Maybe if he turned away from the woman who’d just set his soul on fire, he could push that unpleasant question out of his mind.

“You can’t be finished. You haven’t even tried your stew.” Emma crumbled a handful of crackers into her bowl and added more shredded cheese atop the steaming chunks of meat and vegetables.

Torin waved off her words with a vague flick of his wrist. “The links of meat will do me.” Torin circled the room, glancing back at Emma as she dug into her food. She’d never leave this world, forsake her sister or abandon the place where she healed the children. He shook his head, sucking in a deep breath from between clenched teeth. He knew in his heart, she’d never relinquish this place without a fight—her loyalty was part of her charm. How could he convince her to come with him and explore the wondrous powers awaiting her discovery? How could he show her she didn’t belong in this place any more than he did?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Emma grabbed her napkin off the table and patted it across her chin. “Have I got food on my face?”

She was so innocent. Torin’s heart shifted with a tender feeling he never thought possible. “No, lass. Your face is as clean and lovely as ever.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed a bright pink and she dropped her gaze back to her bowl. Clearing her throat as she pushed the spoon in circles through her food, she kept her head lowered as she spoke. “So, why are you looking at me like that then? You look like you need to say something but you can’t figure out how to say it.”

Her words heightened Torin’s wariness. Emma might not realize the gifts she possessed but she naturally tapped into her powerful sense of perception with amazing ease. “Have ye ever wondered where ye came from, Emma? Have ye ever sought your ancestry?”

Emma rose from the table, scooped up the bowls, and hugged them against her chest. Her expression flattened into an emotionless blank as though she’d donned a mask. “No. It doesn’t matter where I came from. All that matters is where I’m headed.”

Fear.
Torin smelled it as surely as the smoldering peat fire smoking in the grate. Emma feared what she might find if she looked into the past. What else could drain the color from her freckle-dusted cheeks? “What if I could tell ye of your history? Of the wondrous gifts and discoveries awaiting ye as ye…move forward?”

Emma paused, not looking at Torin. Her knuckles whitened as she stared down at the thick ceramic bowls in her hands. The muscles in her jaw rippled as she turned and whacked the dishes against the garbage bin until globs of stew splattered into the can. Still staring down into the garbage, Emma’s voice trembled as she spoke. “What if I told you I didn’t want to know?”

“Ye do not
wish
to know the magic that lies within your reach or ye’re
afraid
to discover the power awaiting your command?” Torin edged closer. He had to make her see it was time to face her heritage. The time for running was over.

Emma turned, dropped the bowls in the sink, then flinched as the pottery shattered with a grating crash against the porcelain-coated cast iron. “Well, dammit!” Emma pounded the heels of her hands against the rim of the sink, staring down at the broken bowls. “The
magic
you speak of hasn’t helped me a damn bit or gotten me where I am today. Determination is all I need. Why do I need magic now?” Bitterness and resentment hung heavy in the air, seasoning every word she spit.

Torin understood better than Emma could ever know. His powers hadn’t protected him from unbearable pain or loss either. “You and I are not so different, Emma. Pain has filled our lives. The magic doesna shield us from sorrows along our path. It’s merely one of the threads woven into our fate.”

“My fate—my destiny is to help children, heal them the best I can. That’s the only magic I’ve got room for in my life. All I need is the magic of science.” Grabbing the garbage bin, she yanked it over beside the sink. With stiff jerking movements, Emma fished the shards of pottery out of the basin and pegged them into the can one by one.

Lore, the woman’s stubbornness reminded him of his own. Torin grabbed both her hands and bent forward until Emma raised her head and faced him. “The powers can no longer be ignored, lass. The time is past for pretending. Ye must face your true path as a guardian. I can help ye find the way. The wonders just awaiting your touch will fair set yer mind to spinning.”

Yanking her hands out of his grasp, Emma backed against the counter. “Why is this so important to you? Why are you hounding me about this, Torin? What’s in this for you?”

A sharp rap on the door caused them both to jump. Emma’s eyes widened as she looked at the door then swiveled her attention back to him.

Fear? Torin studied her expression as a dusty rose flush heightened the color of her cheeks. No. Not fear. Something else. Torin pulled his dagger from the leather sheath strapped to his leg and took a step toward the door. Whatever lay on the other side of that threshold was causing Emma a great deal of unease.

“No!” Emma grabbed his arm as she pushed past him with her handbag clutched to her chest. She pulled the front door open just enough to pull in a brown paper package while holding the door steady with her extended foot.

“Here. Thank you very much.” Emma shoved a handful of something that she’d pulled from the depths of her black bag through the narrow opening. She followed this motion with a polite smile then closed the door with a quiet bang. Turning, Emma clutched a small brown package against her chest as she leaned back against the door.

What was the lass up to now? Torin glared at the package, widened his stance and crossed both arms over his chest. A sense of dread armed his defenses. He’d been hit with so many other strange contraptions in this time; he was none too certain he was ready for another. “What does the package hold, Emma?”

Emma glanced down at the twine-wrapped bundle cradled in her arms. She caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth then raised her gaze to his. “This package?”

Embarrassment. Torin forced himself not to smile. Whatever she held in her arms was causing the lass quite a bit of discomfort. He had to know what the strange bundle held. Surely a package so verra small couldna hold anything too wicked. “Yes, Emma.
That
package.”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff?” Torin stared at her in disbelief. So, she didna wish to tell him what she had hidden beneath the brown paper?

The color heightened across Emma’s cheeks. “Yes. Stuff. My stuff.” Nodding toward the crumb-covered kitchen table, she wrapped her arms tighter around the bundle. “Are you sure you’ve had enough to eat? I can’t believe one cheese-covered hot dog is a meal for a man like you. I think I’ve got some cookies in the cupboard. How about some cookies with a tall glass of milk?”

“If ye dinna wish to tell me what your wee package holds”—Torin released the smile he’d been fighting to hold back—“all ye need do is state your wish.”

“My wish?” A befuddled expression covered Emma’s face as she tossed her purse into the chair.

“Aye.” Torin nodded. “Yer wish to keep the contents of your prize a secret.”

Waving the package in the air, Emma stomped over to the kitchen, yanked open a drawer and fished out a knife. “I guess I might as well show you. It’s not like I’m going to be able to keep them a secret forever. After all, they’re really for both of us.”

“For both of us?”

Emma didn’t bother replying, just sliced through the twine wrapped around the package and dumped several small purple-and-black boxes across the countertop. “There. Now you know.”

Torin moved forward with interest. What mysterious magic could all those little boxes hold? Strange shaped glyphs scrawled across the sides of the boxes over the out-lined image of a full-busted woman. Gingerly picking up one of the boxes, Torin hefted it in his hand. Very light. What could possibly be inside?

“They’re condoms,” Emma blurted with an exasperated huff. “This isn’t exactly how I planned to introduce you to them but I guess now is as good a time as any.”

“Condoms?” Torin frowned as he noted the tension tightening Emma’s face. He crushed the box open, scowling in confusion as several shining packets flew in all directions. “What the hell are these
condoms
for?”

“Several things, actually.” Emma drolly noted with a shrug. “Preventing pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases are the two most important uses that come to mind.”

Pregnancy. A chill washed over Torin’s body as though Emma had just doused him with ice. This woman feared childbirth too. Torin searched Emma’s expression as she gathered up the scattered packets and stuffed them in one of the other boxes. “Do ye fear childbirth, Emma?”
Hell all mighty.
What if she did? He’d never be able to touch her again. He’d be damned if he’d go through the pain of opening his soul to another woman just to lose her the way he’d lost the treacherous Eilean.

Emma’s movements slowed. Her brow creased as she stared down at the over-stuffed box in her hands and ran her thumbs along its edge. “I wouldn’t call it a
fear
of childbirth.” Her movements quickened as though when her thoughts fell into place, so did the chore at hand. She forced the box shut and stacked the colorful boxes into an orderly pile. “At this point in my life, I just don’t feel I could be a truly good mother. I’ve got too many irons in the fire.”

The tension pulling across his shoulders relaxed just a bit. “So someday.” Torin took a step closer. “Someday, when ye feel yer ready, ye might want a child of your own?”

“Of course.” Emma shrugged, giving him a peculiar look as though his words didn’t make any sense.

Torin released the breath he’d been holding as the rest of the tension faded away. Nodding toward the neatly stacked boxes, he pointed at the uppermost box. “Those tiny packets within the boxes—they hold herbs to prevent ye from getting a bairn in your womb?”