Helen grimaced and finished the contents of her glass.

“I’ll find you an extra blanket.”

* * * *

A mild headache greeted Helen in the early morning hours. When she rolled over in her own bed, not the one costing her over a hundred dollars a day in Scotland, she couldn’t deny the events of the previous day.

If the wound on her leg hadn’t reminded her of medieval men and their massive broadswords, the huge doorstop of a man lying on her living room couch did. With a few words of warning not to answer the door, Helen slipped out of her apartment to find some clothes for Simon.

His naked chest was a distraction. And for all she knew, he was a married man. Off limits. Not that she should be thinking about whether or not he had a main squeeze back in a castle somewhere—not considering the craziness her life had turned into during the past forty-eight hours. Still, she wondered.

****

A pair of sweats, an extra large t-shirt, and a pair of shoes later, Helen arrived back in her apartment to find Simon dipping into some of the junk food in her pantry.

“Here.” She thrust the clothes toward him. “I should ask you why you ended up naked, but my mind can’t take a whole lot more.”

A strange smile inched over his lips. His brow lifted in what Helen thought was admiration.

Simon snagged a potato chip and tossed it in his mouth before turning toward her bathroom. “I’ll change.”

They continued to talk through the thin walls of her apartment. “Any theories yet as to how I ended up in the sixteenth century?” She asked questions to avoid thinking of him dressing.

“The magic must have been very powerful for you to have traveled without any aid.”

“Magic?”

“What else do you think powers time travel?”

Helen fluffed the pillow on the couch and went around tidying the room, a nervous habit she developed since childhood. “I don’t know, a fairy Godmother,” she whispered to herself.

“What was that, lass?”

“Nothing. I just don’t believe in magic.”

“Now you’re lying to yourself.”

Simon stepped from the bathroom in the ridiculous clothes. They didn’t suit him at all. The size of the shirt was a complete miss. It stretched across his chest and highlighted every muscle beneath. Not bad, too small, but not bad.

The baggy pants were too big. A shopping trip including his participation, would be necessary. Even so, he’d turn plenty of heads dressed the way he was.

“You’re calling me a liar?”

“I said you’re lying to yourself. You believe in magic, or at the very least, power beyond the average person’s mind. You traveled all the way to Scotland because of a feeling.” Simon picked up the bag of chips and tucked his frame into a chair.

“That’s not magic, it’s intuition.”

He glanced at a chip in his hand and waved it in the air. “I’ve missed these.”

The silly grin reached all the way to his eyes, reminding her of the picture she had of him as a kid. “You really are him.”

She slid down on the couch and stared.

“I am,” he said around the chip as it made its way into his mouth. “Magic is very real, Helen. Not many people believe it exists because most people can’t access it.”

“But I can?”

He nodded. “It’s in your heritage.”

“I wouldn’t know squat about my heritage. I’m an orphan.”

Simon stopped chewing and placed his hand over hers. “I’m sorry.”

Her hand heated under his, and she quickly pulled away. “It’s nothing new. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“Family is most important where I’m from.”

Focus, Helen. The man needs to get back to his wife. “I’ll bet yours is missing you already.”

“Painfully, I’m sure.”

“And I’m responsible for you being separated from them. I’m sorry.”

Simon waved his hand in the air. “I’m not holding you responsible. But I do think you hold the key to my return. Tell me every detail that led you to Scotland.”

She settled into the couch and explained what she could. “A few months ago I came across a pair of candlesticks at the auction house I work for. I’m a photographer,” she explained. “Something about them….”

Oh, boy, she wanted to say “called to me” but didn’t want to sound like a crack pot “I wanted to know more about them.” That sounded better.

“And?”

“Apparently, your mother was involved with their original sale. The paperwork regarding the transaction had her name all over it. It was then I learned of your disappearance.”

“And my mother’s.”

“Yeah, but it was you I felt a need to find.”

Simon leaned forward, staring into her eyes. His eyes were soft eyes when he was relaxed, but she remembered how they’d turned hard during battle.

“Anyway. I told a friend of mine about what I’d discovered, and it was her that led me to the book.”

“The book?”

“The one with your picture in it, a picture of you as an adult wearing a kilt. At least, I think it’s you.”

“Where is this book?”

“In my backpack tied to your horse.”

Simon blinked a few times and looked away. “That’s good.”

“Good? Thousands of dollars worth of camera equipment, and the book that probably has the answers to how we get you home, are stuck in your century, and we’re here. How is that good?”

“Kong will return to the Keep, and my family will find your pack. They’ll know I’m safe. ’Tis a good thing. They may even be able to travel here and help me return.”

Helen’s jaw dropped. “They can do that?”

“It’s not been tried in some time, but aye, they can.”

“Then we don’t have to do anything. We can just wait for them to come and get you.”

“I don’t think so, lass.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said, but consider this. You had a compelling need to find me and you did. You defied everything I know of time travel to do so. My family may be able to come and get me, as you say, but until we know exactly how you traveled and are able to prevent you from doing it again, ’tis best I stay by your side to keep you safe. There are immense powers at work here.”

Helen unfolded from the couch and started to pace. “Keep me safe? Why would you think I’m not safe?”