A Druid of Her Own: An Immortal Highlander (Druid Series Book 4) by Mandy M. Roth Page B

explain. Heck, she policed the supernatural, as best as she and Maria could do, but believing the boogieman was real wasn’t something she could do. Not yet.
    She exhaled slowly. “I’m still voting for sex.”
    Kennard grinned and screamed alpha male without saying a word.
    She would have stepped back if she could have moved her legs.
    “I’m no guid for you, lass.”
    “Honestly, it’s what I’m hoping for. I need a little bad boy in my life right now.”
    “Little?” he echoed and then puffed his chest, his eyes flickering back to deep green. “I’m nae little, wench.”
    “Stop calling me a wench,” she said, touching him again. Fire seemed to dance between them as their skin connected. Her power jumped from her, and for the briefest of moments it was as if he had power coming from him. Had she dreamed up the biker man in a kilt and given him magik too?
    Perfect indeed.
    He took a large step back from her, putting space between them. It was then she noticed he was sweating more. “Lass, have you no sense? We’re on a plane with a demon and you want me to rut you.”
    “Is rutting like banging my brains out?” she asked, totally serious. “Because if that is a yes, I’m still game. More than game. Take me and rut the living hell out of me.”
    He tipped his head back, his hair going in all directions as he did. “Wench. You’ve no sense.”
    She shrugged. “I can have as much or as little sense as I want. It’s my dream. You want more sense, go dream your own dream.”
    He tipped his head and gave her a curious stare, the edges of his mouth quirking upwards. “Yer nae right in the head, are you?”
    She touched her lower lip, her gaze fixed on his groin. She wished the kilt would melt away. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough it would. It was her dream after all. Anything was possible.
    The man took hold of her arm and the heat returned. He gasped. “Yer magik?”
    It was her turn to be surprised. “W-what did you ask me?”
    Growling, he looked past her, in the direction the bad guy had been. “Are you in league with the demon?”
    “Am I in league with that snake-headed monster who has been terrorizing my dreams for years now? Uh, no.” Maggie stood her ground. “But to answer your question, yes, I’m magik.”
    “How is it yer here, lass?” he asked, his voice less harsh this time. It was evident he was trying to be patient with her, despite his obvious annoyance.
    She sighed, really liking the sound of his brogue. The man was completely yummy. “I already told you, I’m dreaming. What is your excuse for being here? Come to kiss and run again? You’re good at that.”
    His lips twitched. “I’m clearly here to save the damsel in distress. ‘Tis nae evident? For she does nae seem to believe this is no dream. Far from it.”
    She stared at his covered package again.
    He caught her chin. “Eyes, up, lass.”
    “Or kilt down,” she suggested, gaining her a double-take from him.
    His mouth fell open. “Yer a spirited one, aren’t you?”
    She didn’t answer.
    “Listen carefully to me. This is nae a dream. The events that happen here are verra real and verra dangerous. You must understand as much and believe me.”
    Confused, she shook her head. “No. This is a dream. I’ve been having them for years and the creepy guy is in all of them.”
    Kennard gritted his teeth. “He wants you for something. What?”
    It was hard to rip her gaze from him to give him an answer that she didn’t even have. When he scowled and then took hold of her elbow rather forcefully, she jerked her arm free. She folded her arms over her chest and his gaze seemed fixed on the action. “I don’t know for sure. He wants me to come with him for some reason. I’m pretty sure if I say yes and go, I’ll end up seven kinds of evil, but I wouldn’t end up dead. What I want to know is why I dreamed you up too. And better yet, why didn’t I dream you here naked? The kilt is a nice touch, but really, naked