A Christmas Spirit by Cindy Miles

“Here,” he said, “you can lie down and I’ll sit behind you.”
    Paige grinned, fluffed a couple of pillows midway on the sofa, giving Gabriel enough room to sit at her head without falling through her, and laid down. After he settled in behind her, she looked up at him.
    The beauty of his ghostly face, so rugged, so strongly cut, nearly made her gasp.
    “I honestly cannot believe this is all happening to me. Me , of all people,” she said, and slowly shook her head. “A few days ago I was running from you, scared out of my mind. Now? I’m all comfy and curled up beside you.” She peered at him. “Don’t you think it’s all a bit bizarre?”
    Gabriel rubbed his jaw with his hand and gave the slightest of smiles that made his dimples deepen.
    She didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of looking at those sexy marks in his cheeks.
    Then, he lowered his hand and traced the outline of her nose, her forehead, and then her lips.
    “I suppose I’m at that point where I’m fearful to ask too many questions of it, Paige MacDonald.” His finger ran over her knuckles. “I’m too afraid I may blink and find you’ve suddenly gone.”
    In the back of her mind, she’d thought of little else that day. Leaving. She didn’t want to . But she didn’t live in Scotland, after all. She wasn’t a citizen. Her job was in America.
    Along with her lonely, boring, one-bedroom apartment life.
    Besides. Gabriel didn’t own Gorloch, and while she had plenty of money saved to buy herself a place, she could only stay six months with a working visa.
    Not that Gabriel Munro had asked her to stay. Sure, he’d said he didn’t want her to ever leave, but it wasn’t the same thing.
    “Me thinks you are havin’ wicked thoughts runnin’ through that lovely head o’ yours, what with such a grumpy expression on your face.” He stroked the line of her jaw. “What are you thinkin’?”
    Paige stared straight into Gabriel Munro’s mesmerizing green eyes. And lied.
    “Nothing. I’m just taking everything in, I suppose.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m so comfortable here, I think I could fall asleep just listening to your accent.”
    A deep chuckle sounded behind her. “Shall I say aye over and over then?”
    Paige giggled. “Please. The more the merrier. And say something that has lots of r ’s in it, too.”
    Gabriel laughed, and then settled down to tell Paige tales of days gone by. Vivid stories of his youth, his wild warring days, of cattle raids and skirmishes with other clans, of his mother and father, and brothers.
    Before long, Paige’s eyes began to drift closed.
    Somehow, though, she still felt the pleasant tingling against her skin wherever Gabriel touched her. It calmed her, aroused her, and as she slipped into slumber, the thought of actually being physically touched by Gabriel Munro made her shiver.
    Just before his deep, strangely medieval accent lulled her fast asleep.
    Some time later, Paige’s eyes fluttered open. The light in the room told her that she’d slept through the night, and it was now morning. Christmas Eve day.
    It had been forever since she’d felt such excitement.
    Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and immediately searched for Gabriel. She found him perched on the windowsill, looking out. She ran a hand through her hair. “Good morning.”
    For several seconds, Gabriel said nothing. He simply sat staring out into the morning mist. His back was rigid, his shoulders pulled back sharply. His fists were tightly clenched. In his profile, she saw his jaw was set.
    And immediately, Paige felt something had changed. Something, and she’d not a clue what, had happened.
    Fear made her stomach uneasy.
    “Gabriel, is something wrong?” she asked hesitantly.
    After several long, painful moments, he turned and looked her directly in the eye. His gaze was fixed and hard, and it made Paige’s throat tighten.
    “You deceived me.”
    Paige blinked, shocked. “Excuse me?”
    “Your clan pin, Paige.” He