A grin played on his lips but he didn’t let it show. “I’ve fought among men in your time. Some throw off their kilts in battle to save the plaid.”

“Some do. But I’ve only seen such things from afar. Or my nephews, but…well…”

“Amber?” He said her name softly, repeated it until she looked directly at him.

Embarrassment filled her eyes.

“I’ll close my eyes.”

She smiled then, and the effect hit him in the gut and spread heat lower. This was the look he wanted to see from her the moment he’d noticed her portrait on the wall of MacCoinnich Keep. The haunting expression in that painting dissipated with a smile…one that reached her eyes.

“I’ll close my eyes, too.” The relief in her voice was comical.

“I’m not shy, m’lady. Look all you want. Consider me a live human anatomy lesson.”

Her eyes grew wider. When he laughed, she grinned.

“You’re teasing me.”

He winked. “Maybe a little.”

They scooted off the bed together and walked around the room while she gathered a change of clothing. She passed over her multitude of dresses and skirts and chose a pair of jeans and a pull over shirt to change into. Using the bathroom proved a little difficult as they both held a foot or ankle while the other used the facilities.

As he promised, Kincaid kept his eyes shut while she dressed and, although he’d given her permission to look, she turned her face away and squeezed her eyes closed when his own needs called.

“I have never shared a bathroom with a man.”

“They don’t have bathrooms in your time,” he reminded her.

“Don’t be so sure. Lizzy, Simon’s mother, was determined to have water piped in. There’s a hidden closet in each wing with a primitive toilet.”

She picked up a brush and attempted to pull it through her hair. “This is difficult with one hand,” she told him.

He came up behind her and lifted her shirt until the skin of her waist was exposed. He placed his palm against her and freed her hand. Amber smiled at him in the mirror and quickly brushed her hair before pulling the bulk of it back in a tie.

He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm when they left the bedroom for the first time. All the while Kincaid felt a smile, a grin…or full-on happiness swimming inside of him. He couldn’t help but wonder if those were Amber’s emotions or his. Because he couldn’t remember a time in his life when he felt this at ease.

****

Selma shoved her hand into the bag of chips, flipped the channel on the TV, and plopped her feet up on Jake’s coffee table. She checked the time on the clock ticking on the mantel of his fireplace and knew he’d be home soon. He’d probably grumble about her letting herself in, but he’d get over it. She took great pleasure in pushing Jake’s buttons. The man was too uptight for his own good. He’d have an early heart attack at this rate. Selma made it a personal goal to get the man to lighten up and take himself less seriously.

Besides, she didn’t have any friends in LA and she didn’t want to eat dinner alone again. She could have made her way to Mrs. Dawson’s home, but with Amber’s health in such a dire state, she didn’t think that option was the best.

The sound of Jake’s car pulling into the driveway prompted her to turn up the mindless show she was watching, and dig into the bag again.

As expected, Jake stepped around the corner with his service side arm pointed toward her, saw her and dropped the muzzle of the gun to the floor. “What the…”

Unaffected, she placed both hands in the air and pulled a breathy voice from deep within her and said, “Please don’t shoot, officer.”

He growled and holstered his gun. “Breaking into a cop’s house isn’t smart, Matilda.”

His pet name was growing on her.

“I didn’t break in.”

“Oh, I don’t remember giving you a key.” He stepped around the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and switched the set off.

She waved a chip in his direction as she spoke. “I have my witchy ways. No need to break anything to get in here.” She popped the chip in her mouth and made more noise than necessary before swallowing it.

He tugged off his belt that held all his cop toys and laid it on the table. “You know, I think I liked it better when you lived a thousand miles away.” There was no heat in his words.

“Your life was boring before you met me.”

“I’m a cop. My life is never boring.”

“Predictable then.”

She knew his friendship pool was shallow and that Todd, his partner who now lived several hundred years back in time, was his best friend, almost like a brother.

He spread his legs in a typical officer pose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here, Selma?”

She swept her feet from the coffee table, tossed the bag of chips in their place, and started toward the kitchen. “I thought I’d disturb your boring, predictable evening and convince you to join me for dinner.”

He followed her into his kitchen. “Why would we do that? We don’t like each other, remember?”

“Call it an exercise in patience…or better yet, we can attempt to remove the stick you have up your ass. Compromise is good for you.”

“Compromise is important when two people give a rat-shit about each other. We don’t fall into that category. And I don’t have a stick up my ass.”

She opened up his nearly empty refrigerator and poked her head inside. “Yes you do. Geez, Jake, your cardiologist must love you.” She removed a brown box with leftover pizza and tossed it on the counter.

“Hey, that’s still good.”

She opened the lid, grabbed a rock-hard slice of pepperoni and sausage, and tapped it against the counter with a solid thud. “I’ve had week old bagels that were fresher than this.” She dug back into the science experiment Jake called a refrigerator and took out two beers. “Open these,” she told him as she thrust them in his direction. “I’ll figure out if there’s anything salvageable in here.”

Jake grabbed the beer before they dropped to the floor. “You know how to cook?”

She found a head of lettuce that looked workable and a couple of potatoes. “And I don’t even need my cauldron.” In the freezer she found a couple of chicken br**sts…I can work with this.

Jake leaned a hip against the counter and twisted off the caps on the beer. He handed one to her and tilted his back for a drink.