She didn’t find that quite as comforting as she might have, had her own wishes been a bit purer.

He’d just put an ancient Celtic artifact in her hands and called it hers.

Her fingers curled possessively around the hilt of the dagger. She should object strenuously. Or at least, protest politely. And she was going to, anytime now.

She waited. Anytime now.

Sighing dismally, she acknowledged that some things just weren’t humanly possible—not even Martha Stewart could fold fitted sheets.

Oh, Grandda, why didn’t you ever tell me Scotsmen were so fascinating? He knows just how to get to me.

She almost thought she heard Evan MacGregor’s soft laughter. As if he’d answered her from somewhere beyond the stars, You wouldn’t be satisfied with less, Chloe. You’ve got your share of wild blood in you too.

Did she? Was that why, lately, she’d been waking up in the middle of the night, full of energy that desperately needed an outlet? Why, despite how well her job was going (she knew she was going to be promoted soon), she’d been growing increasingly restless? For months now, a small but insistent voice inside her had been murmuring, “Is this all there is of my life?”

The Gaulish Ghost was offering her a bribe, a payoff of sorts. Be a “good lass” and leave with a prize. Her very own Celtic artifact.

In exchange for her silence and cooperation.

Chloe was having an ethical crisis.

Fortunately, it was brief.

She stooped to pick up the forgotten sword and return it to the study. “I could use some clothes that fit,” she grumbled as she passed behind him.

Had his back not been to her, had she seen the smile that curved his lips, she would have shivered from head to toe.

“Dageus, darling, I miss you, I need you. I’m dying without you.” Pause. “Call me. It’s Katherine.”

The answering machine clicked off.

A moment later Dageus appeared. Their gazes collided as he turned down the volume on the answering machine.

“Dageus, darling,” Chloe cooed, feeling inexplicably irritable. There she’d been, paging delicately through the Midhe Codex and feeling strangely content while he rattled about domestically in the kitchen, cooking for her, when Katherine had interrupted.

He flashed her an entirely-too-devastating smile and shrugged. “I’m a man, lass.” Then went back to the kitchen.

Leaving Chloe to mutter beneath her breath. Just why she cared she had no idea. But it irritated her.

“Were you born in Scotland?” Chloe asked later, pushing her plate back with a sigh. Another fabulous dinner: Aberdeen Angus steak with mushrooms in wine sauce, young red potatoes with chives, salad and crusty bread spread with honey-butter. And wine, though he was sipping Macallan, fine single-malt scotch.

“Aye. The Highlands. Near Inverness. And you?”

“Indianapolis. But my parents died when I was four, so I went to live in Kansas with my grandda.”

“That must have been difficult.”

It had been horrible. They’d refused to let her see her parents’ bodies, which, though now she understood, at the time she hadn’t. She’d thought someone had stolen them and wouldn’t give them back. Hadn’t believed they could just not be anymore. But eventually she’d healed. She knew it had shaped her in ways people with parents would never understand, but she’d been lucky. She’d had someone who’d rescued her, and Chloe believed one should always count one’s blessings.