Highlander’s Curse

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Authors: Melissa Mayhue
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the mysterious Scot she’d dragged home after their last Girls’ Night Out in Denver. She’d told her about the dreams, too.
    “Is he still in your bed? Still making love to you?”
    “Not by the end of this one.” She probably shouldn’t have shared that, in the dreams, Colin was always in bed. Not that it took much effort for her to rationally explain that part away. It was likely only because the first time she’d ever seen him, he
had
been in her bed. What she couldn’t rationally dismiss was that the bed and the room she saw in her dreams were definitely not hers. In fact, they looked like something straight out of a museum re-creation. “And, anyway, I told you, we don’t ever actually
make love
in the dream, it’s more like—”
    “Oh, excuse me,” Casey interrupted. “Wild foreplay, then. You and I both know where those dreams are leading, girl. If you ever finish one out, you
will
be making love, trust me.”
    Not at all true. She’d just gotten much closer to finishing one and she’d ended up in the mother of all nightmares.
    “I’m telling you, it’s that wish we made,” Casey insisted. “I don’t know how, but that has to be it. You ended up with a naked Mr. Perfect in your bed and the day I got home, Sam and I set the date for a Christmas wedding so you’d be back in time and then Lauren called just yesterday to say her doctor confirmed she’s pregnant. I know it’s crazy, Abby, but I’m convinced this guy is haunting your dreams because he’s the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life. You wished for him, you got him, and then you let him slip through yourfingers. Now you’ve got to go hunt him down, girl. There’s no question about it. He’s The One.”
    “No way,” Abby muttered halfheartedly, all the while remembering how the lights had gone that crazy green color when they’d made their wishes that night. “Besides, I wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for him.”
    Unless she contacted her ex-professor in Boulder, but there was no way she was going to humiliate herself like that again. It had been bad enough calling the woman up the last time to ask her to come get her cousin. Professor Navarro probably already thought she was some sleezy barfly psycho. What would she think if she got a second call? Hey, remember me? The one who had your naked cousin in my house? Um . . . speaking of Colin, could you tell me where to find him?
    Not happening.
    “Not a single idea where to look for him,” she repeated insistently.
    “Yes you do. Didn’t you say he told you where he lived in Scotland? Think, girl! You’re right there. I mean, the whole country probably isn’t much bigger than Colorado. Hunt him down. Go see him. You have to do this, Abby. It’s like fate or something. It’s way bigger than you. Besides, you want to be able to sleep again, don’t you?”
    Abby caught herself nodding along as her friend spoke, knowing from the roiling in her stomach she’d already made her decision. Fool that she was, she was going to do it.
    “Okay, fine. I’ll Google him as soon as we get off the phone.”
    “Then we’re off the phone now. You call me as soon as you meet up with him again, you hear? I want to know absolutely everything! Now, go.”
    “Bye, Casey. Thanks.”
    Her words echoed back from the dead line, her friend already having disconnected.
    “All-righty, then,” she attempted to reassure herself, crawling out of her bed and padding across the uneven floorboards to the old end table she used as a desk in this little room.
    Not that she’d dream of complaining about her accommodations. She knew how lucky she was the dig organizers had found this wonderful old bed-and-breakfast so close to their dig site. Swan House fairly resonated with history. And having access to a wireless internet connection, even as unreliable as it sometimes was, was a rare and unexpected blessing.
    “Dun Ard,” she murmured, her fingers flying over the keys.
    To her

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