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[mymelodyheart]

Just dropping this message on all of Mel's SM account. Since my last post on Mel's health, unfortunately, she took a turn for the worse but good news peeps - she's coming home tomorrow!!!!!!

Thank you all for the prayers and messages. She's read them all and she's grateful for all of them.

Love Jason xo (melody's husband)

[mymelodyheart]

Hi!!! This is Jason. I'm Melody's husband and I'm here to let you know, Mel is well and she's ordered me to tell you 🤪 that it's my fault she hasn't posted. It's the truth to a certain extent because I've banned my wife from writing until I've seen improvement in her health. The good news is -although her fingers are still stiff to type, her arm's spasms are becoming infrequent, she can now walk without assistance and she's gained a bit of weight. I tried editing chapter 14 last night for her but we ended up disagreeing about her Jamie character. So I resolved to leave it and let her do it herself. A few more days and I think she'll be brand new again. She sends her love to her readers and thank you for your understanding!!

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 13 ~Changes, Surprises and Whammies~

Previously in Seeing Green ...

Jesus Christ, this cannae be happening!  Feeling bewildered at her outburst, he stared at her flushed face trying to discern what lurked behind those amber eyes. She was usually the level headed and calm one between them, and seeing her react like this over a lass was a novelty. This was way too unreasonable behaviour coming from her, even if hormone changes had something to do with it. 

Slowly realisation dawned on him, and it was clear as day, and he couldn't help but grin like a pillock. 

"What's so funny?" she hissed.

"Ye're jealous."

Sputtering, she tried to twist her arm out of his grasp. "I beg your pardon?"

"My beautiful Sassenach is jealous. I cannae believe it."

"No, I'm not!"

"Aye, ye are. Admit it!"

"You've no idea how close you are to getting your balls ripped off!"

Jamie crowded her space, not giving Claire any room to escape. She tried to sidestep him, but he merely walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. 

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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  Claire leaned her head against the window as Jamie drove them out of Broch Mordha, taking the main road that led them out of the village and past the open fields. It was a perfect Saturday morning drive, the countryside green and lush, mottled with a kaleidoscopic array of wildflowers against the rollercoaster of hills and troughs sprawling as far as the eyes could see. She had no idea where they were heading to, only that Jamie had suggested some fresh air and a wee trek out into the open.

Earlier that morning, Jenny had barged in on them while having breakfast, stressed, looking out of sorts and almost close to tears. She'd revealed that a heavy storm was forecast this coming Thursday and projected to last throughout their wedding weekend with torrential rain, gale-force winds and flood alerts across the country. It had been a shock to hear the news, but Jamie and Claire had been more concerned about Jenny as she'd fallen back onto the chair, defeated after all the hard work she'd put into their wedding. 

After they'd consoled Jenny and urged her to go back home so they could discuss privately how to sort out the mess, Jamie had suggested going out for a drive. Looking now at the scenery before her, it was hard to imagine there was a raging storm coming their way.

When Jamie pulled into a layby, Claire glanced at him. "Why are we stopping?"

His hand reached out and squeezed hers. "Ye're quiet. Ye havenae said much since we left home."

She gave him a small smile. "I've just been thinking."

"I understand the weather forecast is upsetting, but ..."

"No." Claire shook her head, stopping him mid-sentence. "I'm not upset." She stared straight ahead and looked at the view of the mountain before her. The hues and cast were breathtaking, a fusion of emeralds, greys, and purples, offset by the sky's cloudless blue. If her mum was still alive, this would be the scene she'd want to recreate. Shifting in her seat to look at him, she sighed. "After the highs and lows of this past year and what happened in London, the weather upsetting our wedding plans seem rather inconsequential, don't you think? This ..." she pointed out with a sweep of her hand, "...and you beside me is everything I could ever ask for. Honestly, I'm alright."

His head dropped back onto the headrest as he let out a relieved if not awkward laughter. "I thought ye'd be upset."

Claire thought back at how distressed Jenny had looked when she'd announced the bad news. She'd felt ungrateful that it hadn't bothered her as much, but Claire and Jamie hadn't been the ones who pushed for a lavish wedding. But still ... "I'm more concerned about Jenny. She's invested so much time and a lot of herself into planning."

"Ach, dinnae fash about it," he said, glancing at her. "She'll be back to her old self before ye know it. We can still go ahead with the wedding without the guests ...just family or reschedule. Whatever ye want. Either way, Jenny would be more than happy to take over the rein, and if anyone can improvise on such short notice, it would be her. She loves doing stuff like that, and it's what makes her happy."

"I know that," she said quietly. Smiling, she placed a hand over Jamie's. "But let's not talk about it for the time being. Whatever muddle lies ahead, we'll sort it out when it comes. It's a lovely day, so let's make the most of it. Unless the reason you took me out here is that so I can have a proper meltdown because of the sudden turn of events." She chuckled softly, wagging a finger at him. "Sorry matey, I have to disappoint you on that one ...not happening."

He grinned at her. "Actually, I wanted to show ye something," he said, restarting the engine. "I thought showing it to ye ahead of time should cheer ye up, but since we're here already, I still want ye to have a look at it and tell me what ye think."

She huffed out a breath. "If you're taking me to Invergarry Castle to tell me all about Clan MacDonell of Glengarry and the Raven's Rock, I've seen it all before with Annalise and know all about the history."

Jamie ignored her remarks. "Do me a favour and close yer eyes for me, Sassenach," he instructed, easing the Landrover back into the road. "I have a surprise for ye. Where we're going is better than all the castles in this area." He paused for a couple of seconds as if second-guessing himself. "Weel, at least I think so, anyway."

Claire snorted. "You know I don't like surprises."

"I know," he murmured. "But I'd like to see the expression on yer face when ye first open yer eyes and see my surprise. I have a very strong feeling ye're gonnae like it." He peered at her and gave her that look he often used when he wanted something. A perfect balance of boyish charm and gentle persuasion. "Please? Can ye do as ye're told for once?"

"Fine!" she replied, hiding a small smile. "But I think I've had enough surprises this year to last me a lifetime."

He blew out an exasperated breath. "Ye're a fine one to talk, lass. I mean, how many times have ye done something that made my heart stop. For example ...ye took a chance on me ... a highly complicated man, nearly got yersel' killed by a psychopath and just look at ye now; ye're sitting there calmly while our wedding plans are about to fall apart. I honestly thought ye were going to be upset."

She laughed out loud. "Admit it, Jamie. You wouldn't want to change anything that happened this past year, even the misguided things we do for love and the highs and lows."

He pulled a face as they reached a T junction. "I wouldnae either, but it would do me a world of good right now if ye would take pity on my heart and do as ye're told." He took a left turn and then growled, "Now close ye're eyes, woman, we're almost there."

Smiling, Claire did as she was told.

..........

Claire felt the vehicle pull off the main road and then into a stop. She squirmed in her seat, itching to get out. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"No!" Jamie replied as he got out of the vehicle. "Stay put."

When her door opened, he unbuckled her seatbelt, scooped her into his arms with minimal effort and carried her out. "Now?" she squeaked.

"Patience, Sassenach, and keep yer eyes close," he muttered as he gently eased her onto the ground. The wind shifted, and she caught a whiff of fragrant flowers, freshly mowed grass and a faint scent of charcoal burning in a barbecue from afar. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him, and as her back met his front, he whispered in a warm minty breath against her ear, "Ye may look now."

Inhaling deeply, her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze settled on a grey stone house. She skimmed the expanse of the area and saw the property was detached from fields by a hip-level purple beech hedge, bordering a front garden filled with a stunning display of summer flowers, established shrubs, and spectacular views over Loch Oich and rolling hills. A grey nameplate hung next to the black wrought iron gate, with Fox's House inscribed in white lettering. Confused, Claire glanced up at Jamie. "Whose house is this?"

He didn't answer her question. "Can ye see us living here?"

Claire's heart skipped a beat as her eyes rested once more on the stone house. She'd pushed property hunting to the back of her to-do list, at least until they were back from their honeymoon, and she hadn't anticipated Jamie would actively search for one with everything happening in their lives lately. "It's for sale?" she asked even though she already knew the answer.

He smiled. "Let's just say my parents know the person who used to live here, and they've already moved to a smaller property."

She stepped away from Jamie to take in her surroundings and noticed the neighbouring houses were much further away. A carpet of wildflowers covered the nearby fields, and a walking trail forked out into the woods, the lake and linked to a path that led to the village of Broch Mordha, making it ideal for hiking trips. There was plenty of privacy and land, and the property looked big enough for a big family.

"When can we take a look at the insides?" she asked, whirling around to face him, excitement taking hold of her.

Jamie flashed her an amused grin. "How about now?"

"You have the keys?"

"No, but I've been told where they keep the spare one."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she said impatiently.

Not waiting for a reply, Claire went ahead and pushed the wrought iron gate open and made her way to the wooden front door. Taking a deep breath, she waited for Jamie to find the spare key. As soon as he opened the entrance, she braced herself and stepped in.

She was greeted by an impressive panelled staircase painted in duck egg blue, drifting upwards and splitting into dual landings. To her left and right were pocket wooden doors that she presumed led to the reception, drawing room or study, but her attention was captured where the end of the hallway flowed. She followed the route that led her into a vast, rustic kitchen and dining area flooded with natural light coming from the sash and case windows with shutters painted in white. It had views to the rear garden and the woods beyond and could be accessed with the panelled glassed double doors. The room was quintessentially the hub of the home, with generous space, a wide range set into an exposed stone wall recess, butler sink, plentiful storage with handcrafted cabinetry and a massive oak dining table that sat eight. Off the kitchen was even a boot room, ideal for coats, wellingtons and a rain-soaked dog, and in the dining area, there's a log burner set into an original period timber and limestone fireplace. It was hardly en vogue, but every detail was so her and Jamie.

"I love it," Claire whispered, running a hand over the polished wooden countertops as she envisioned Jamie making his signature stews during the cold winter nights while she sat by the fireplace and read a book.

Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and chuckled. "I'm glad ye like it so far because if ye didnae, there's something in this house that will make ye change yer mind."

She tipped her head to the side to give Jamie's lips access to her neck. "Is that so?"

She felt him smile against that sensitive spot just below her ear. "This house comes with an annexed studio. It has fabulous views to inspire ye when ye start writing again. Ye can access it from a secret panel door that used to be a butler's pantry near the staircase."

"Shall we take a look then?"

Jamie took her hand and guided her back to the hallway to inspect the other quarters and every nook and cranny. The bright interior had a homely feel loaded with original fixtures, mouldings and oak timber flooring, exuding warmth and charm. Though the property was a period home, it had been lovingly restored to accommodate mod cons, and even the wood panelling had been introduced to the twenty-first century with dusty blue colours, perfect for hanging her mother's paintings. The first two rooms on either side of the front hallway could be made into a living area, study or perhaps a playroom when their baby was old enough, each space boasting an impressive fireplace. Charming as it looked, her mind began to scramble for ideas on how to babyproofed the rooms. 

As if reading her thoughts, Jamie stared at the hearth and frowned. "It doesnae look very safe for our baby, does it?"

She placed a hand on his back and rubbed it in circular motions. "We can always ask your ma how to babyproof it," she suggested, not wanting him to be put off by some minor details. She already loved the house and was already mentally decorating the space. "Almost every room in Lallybroch has a fireplace, mind? I'm sure Ellen has a trick or two up her sleeve."

"Aye, that's true. It would be a shame to board up such a lovely looking fireplace."

Claire ignored Jamie's ghastly alternative and gazed out of the bay window. She saw the herbaceous borders and trees hugging the lawn and the interspersed shrubs and plants at the far end. There was plenty of room for a child to run about and play and perhaps, if she had time, grow their own vegetables and herbs. 

Excitement, chased by dreams of the future, bloomed in her chest. This right here was an ideal family home, with or without the annexed studio, but ... She bit her lip and turned to face Jamie. "We need to sell the Oxford house as soon as possible if we're going to afford this," she blurted. "I, ah, haven't really been pushing the sale with all the stuff going on. But on the one hand, we could always put Southlodge up as collateral for a bank loan."

He walked over to her and smiled, kissing her forehead before pulling her into the warmth of his body. "What do ye take me for, Sassenach?" he murmured, tapping her on the nose with his index finger. "Ye think I havenae considered the finances before taking ye here?"

"What do ye mean?"

"We do not need to sell yer parents house to have this."

"But how? This property must cost a fortune."

"No' as much as a studio in London."

"Jamie!"

Jamie sighed. "Look, Sassenach. Between yer uncle's monetary wedding gift, money ma and da put aside for me and my savings, I have everything covered."

"I've got savings too, and John gave me an advance for my book. It's not much considering the cost of living in London these past years and all the travelling expenses. I'm not even sure how well my book will fare. But there's also money put aside for me by my parents, and the sale of Southlodge should ease ..."

Jamie ran the pad of his thumb along her lower lip, a tactic he always used to shush her up whenever she rambled. She sighed at his touch and swayed closer, extracting a smile of satisfaction to light his face. "I said I've got it covered," he said, winking at her.

"Unbelievable," she chided softly, awarding him with a smack on his arm.

"So ye really like this house?" he asked, running feather-light kisses on her neck. "Ye can imagine us living here? Making this our family home?"

Claire sucked in a breath, unable to concentrate, the stubbles on his jaw causing havoc with the skin on her collarbone. "Mmm? I thought I made that clear enough already."

"Tell me again," he murmured, his hands travelling down over her hips to squeeze the cheeks of her bum. "I want to hear ye say it."

"Very well then ..." Her breath hitched as he nibbled her earlobe. "I love this house, alright? What's there not to love? It's solid, it's beautiful, and it has loads of room for us to grow as a family, and I can see us living here and making it our home. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Pleased to hear ye say that, Sassenach." He pulled back to look at her. "It would have been a disaster if ye didnae like it."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "And why would that be?"

"Because this house is already officially ours."

She stilled, unsure if she understood correctly. "Wot?" 

A slow grin spread across his face, seemingly proud of himself. "Ye heard me right the first time. I bought the house."

She stiffened. "This is not funny, Jamie. You better be joking."

He looked perplexed, his smile waning, replaced by a deep frown. "It isn't meant to be funny. Do I look like I was joking?"

Her jaw dropped as she looked at him with incredulity. "Are you serious?" She took a step back and crossed her arms across her chest. "You bought a house without consulting me?" She threw her hands in the air, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Jesus, Jamie! What were you thinking, and what makes you think that's alright? What would you have done then if I'd said I didn't like this house?"

"But ye like the house," Jamie said defensively. "Ye said so yersel'!" He reached out for her, but she dodged his touch. "Come on, Sassenach, dinnae be like this ..."

Incensed, she shook her head at him. "Oh no, you don't get to say that..."

"Hear me out first." When she involuntarily moved another step back, he sighed. "Please?"

She glared at him. "I don't know what you can possibly say that will make me feel okay about this."

He rubbed his face with his hand. "Alright, I think I handled this all wrong."

"You think?" she fumed. "You said we're a team, Jamie! Weren't you the one who was constantly drumming that into me? Buying something as important as a family home without my input is not what I would call teamwork. Teamwork means united action and effort, and that includes decision making. There was no collaborated decision in this, irrelevant of whether I'm happy about this house or not."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he walked over to the fireplace and stood there, the muscles on his back appearing strained and tensed that Claire almost regretted snapping at him. After a while, what seemed like an eternity, Jamie let out a heavy sigh. "Ye're right," he said in a quiet voice. He spun around and closed their distance and just about stopped himself from reaching out to her. "I should have told ye. I'm so sorry."

She stared at the ceiling blinking back tears of mixed emotions she'd been having since the start of her pregnancy as she acknowledged her own overreaction. It had been a morning full of surprises, and with a wedding that could potentially be rescheduled, the last thing she wanted was to fight Jamie. He'd acted on his instinct when he'd seen this beautiful house, and if she was honest with herself, she probably would have done the same. This, where they were standing now, was a perfect haven she hadn't realised she'd been dreaming of, and attempting to see it from Jamie's point of view, it would have been almost a crime to let such an opportunity pass them by. His transgression had been to take that chance, and how many times had she taken uncalculated risks and driven Jamie bonkers because of it? After the bad news they'd received from Jenny, he'd only wanted to cheer her up by bringing her here which meant, their new home had been perhaps intended to be a wedding surprise. 

This time, biting her tongue about impetuous decisions, she let out a few calming shaky breaths and stared at him square in the eyes. "Look, I'm sorry too for snapping your head off. I-I ..." She shrugged. "I was just taken aback by your action. It was so unlike you, and I was caught off guard and maybe felt a little hoodwinked."

"I didnae mean to ..."

"I know."

Before she knew what was happening, he caught her chin in a firm grip and brought their mouths together as she reached and grasped his neck. Their lips met in a reconciliatory kiss, warm and familiar, quelling the annoyance she'd felt only a while ago. They forgave each other without words, their touches and kisses speaking for themselves until their need to surface for air broke the moment.

"Sassenach ..." Jamie spoke first as she attempted to even out her breaths. "It's true what ye said that my actions were out of character, but ..."

Claire placed a hand on his chest and shook her head. "No, Jamie, it's alright. It's done now. Let's move on, okay? I've had my rant, and it'll serve us no purpose going over it again."

"I have something to show ye though, so ye'll understand," he explained, caressing her cheek with a finger. "Allow me?"

Giving him a small smile, she nodded, letting him lead her back out to the hallway and steer her towards what looked like a simple decorative panel wall next to the kitchen entrance. 

He pressed his hand on the surface, and the facade clicked open. When Jamie flicked on the light from the inside and Claire stepped in, she realised there was another set of stairs in front of her. It was only a short climb up to the next level, and when she reached the top, followed by Jamie close behind, there was a door that opened to a spacious natural light illuminated studio. Her quick inspection of the room revealed its own entrance from the garden, a kitchenette, a log burner, and a double glass door that opened to a small balcony, the back half of the floor including walk-in storage and a bathroom.

"It's a perfect place for my work," she remarked, feeling somewhat chastened now that she'd seen the studio. "And it's part of the house."

Jamie walked over to the desk against a wall and pointed at the canvas painting. "See this?" 

Claire glanced at the artwork she'd overlooked. "What about it?"

"Your ma painted this."

"My mum?" She walked over to take a closer look. It was a painting of the rolling hills and fields outside, and though charming, it lacked symmetry, the shadows were all wrong, and there was something crude about the style. She looked at the signed initials at the bottom right and found out it was indeed her mum's work. Her mother must have been very young when she painted it because there was something amateurish about the artwork. "She stayed here before?" she asked, facing him.

Jamie nodded. "My decision to make an offer on this house in such rash fashion had to do with the story I heard about this annexed studio." He gazed at the artwork and smiled. "The owner, Reverend Wakefield, kent my family well. So when I mentioned our upcoming wedding and told him how this house would make an ideal home for a family, he asked who the lucky bride was. So I told him yer name, and lo and behold, he began making the connection and telling me the story of yer ma's and da's courtship. He said he offered yer ma to stay here in this very room after he'd heard she needed a place for the summer, but all the bed and breakfast rooms in the village had already been fully booked. So she stayed here and not very long after she moved in, yer da started to come and visit while she painted in the garden. And because this studio wasn't really for lets, but the good ol' reverend was kind enough to offer her a place to stay, she'd left this painting here as a thank you gift. After hearing that story, I knew I had to buy this property. I've never believed in coincidences, but I believe in fate, and I think we're meant to live here. Do ye see now where I'm coming from?"

Of course, it all made sense to Claire. Jamie hadn't bought the house on a whim. He'd bought it not only because it would be a perfect home for a family but also because he knew this house would make her feel closer to her mother.

"Well, it would be a lovely tale to tell our bairns one day," she said softly, giving him an apologetic smile for her earlier surly mood.

Taking her hand in his, he twined their fingers together and kissed her tenderly. "When our baby or other babies we may have, are old enough to understand, I want them to know of yer parents." He pressed his forehead against hers, his warmth and his heady masculine scent flooding her senses. "Yer da's presence has always been real to me, Sassenach. So real that I want to keep the memories of yer parents alive. And what a better way to do that than raise our weans right here where yer parents' love story began."

Tears burned her eyes as she thought back to the day when Jamie had proposed on her parents' bench against the backdrop of the Isle of Harris. She swore she'd felt their presence then. Jamie was right. Even though it sounded silly and superstitious, it seemed like her parents had always had a hand in helping her and Jamie find their way to one another or giving them a nudge in the right direction. Indeed what better way to keep their memories alive than by living right here where it had all began for them.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she sighed, sharing breath and understanding. "I couldn't agree more, Jamie. I honestly couldn't agree more."

..........

"Right, go take a shower," Claire ordered as soon as Jamie opened the door to the cottage. "I'll go and take care of Adso and Rollo's dinner."

He grinned. "Are we celebrating tonight?"

"Something like that," she mumbled as she put her bag and sunglasses on the table and made her way towards the pantry.

"Alright, but leave Adso's litter box. I'll handle it."

"Fine!" she called out. "Put on something nice. No flannel shirts and no dilly-dallying!"

Huh? what's wrong with flannel shirts? 

Jamie frowned and wondered what the rush was. He'd never taken more than ten minutes to get ready for a night out. If anything, Claire should be the one having a shower first since it usually took her longer to get dressed. Shrugging, he left it at that and after dealing with the kitty litter box, he headed straight to the bathroom, stripping his clothes off and dropping them into the laundry basket.

Stepping under the shower, he turned the water to lukewarm and thought of their day earlier as he lathered shower gel over his body. After leaving Fox's House, they'd gone for a walk by the lake before feasting on a light lunch of roasted vegetable bruschettas at a waterside restaurant. It should have been a perfect afternoon if it hadn't been for Claire's phone constantly going off in the middle of their' future planning and salvaging their wedding' conversation. He'd wanted to suggest turning the damn thing off but had refrained himself, knowing her mood swings were unpredictable, and he'd already had one strike to his name when he'd mentioned buying the house without consulting her. In hindsight, he understood now why it had annoyed her, but he would probably have done it again in a heartbeat, although perhaps, a little differently.

When he turned off the shower, he was surprised to hear deep voices coming from the front of the cottage and Claire laughing out loud. He recognised his father's and Willie's and wondered what they were doing here. Quickly drying himself, he forwent taking a shave and put on a dark blue dress shirt Claire had bought and pair of black jeans. Jamie hoped their visitors weren't planning on staying too long. Tonight was his and Claire's date night, and though he'd planned a night in of movies and cuddles on the sofa, Claire wanted to go out, and right now, she needed to get ready and not entertain guests.

He walked out of the bedroom and straight to the kitchen and saw not only his father and brother but also Tom, Murtagh, Ian, Quentin and judging by a few more bodies standing about in their rear garden, there were some of his shinty mates too. They were all dressed up and reeked of perfumes and aftershave.

"What the hell?" He glanced at Claire, trying to find some answers, but she only smiled and shrugged.

"Are ye ready, lad?" Ian asked, downing what looked like a shot of whisky and slamming it on the countertop.

"Ready for what?"

Willie got up from a stool and laughed. "Yer stag party."

"My what?" Jamie glared at all of them. "I never asked for a stag party."

"Ye didnae have to," Willie responded, dropping a heavy arm on Jamie's shoulder. "As yer best man, it's my duty to give ye one."

"B-but the wedding might need to be rescheduled because of the storm."

"Aye, true," Tom piped in. "But nae need for yer stag-do to be rescheduled. It's perfectly warm and dry out there ...perfect for a night out."

Jamie looked at his father for some sort of support. "Da?"

Brian raised both his hands, telling Jamie there's no point in resisting.

He swallowed hard, racking his brain for some excuse. "I-ah, Claire's pregnant, and I should be here taking care of her needs. She shouldn't be alone and ..."

"We're here!" Mary shouted from the front room, followed by a cacophony of excited female voices. "Where's our hen?"

Jamie groaned and turned to Claire. "Ye're going on a hen party in yer condition?"

"What condition, bràthair?" Jenny walked into the kitchen and began pulling Claire's hand. "She's pregnant, not ill."

"B-but ..."

Claire came up to him and kissed him on the lips. "Have fun tonight," she whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Tomorrow? What the fuck? 

Jamie stared at Claire. He couldn't believe what was happening. He'd been blindsided, and he had a strong feeling that she'd known all along. "Sassenach ..."

She placed a hand on his cheek. "You're not the only one with a surprise, my love."

"But, I thought ..."

Annalise popped up from behind Jenny. "Don't worry, Jamie. She's in good hands, and we'll be taking good care of her. Your ma and aunt will be coming in chaperone capacity."

That wasn't reassuring enough for Jamie when he thought he heard Geillis' shrill laughter in the background. That lass spelt trouble, and he wouldn't put it past her to have a few risqué ideas for Claire's hen night.

Before he could pull Claire to his side and think of how to haul her over his shoulders and escape this incursion, Murtagh pushed a flask against him. "Here, lad, take a nip and loosen up. It's just a night out, so stop acting like a fanny."

Seeing Claire had already been whisked away, he begrudgingly popped open the top of the flask and downed a healthy measure to the cheers of the menfolk present. "Jesus," he muttered. "This isnae looking good at all."

..........

Jamie's party rolled into Inverness early evening after their hired minibus had dropped them off at the town centre, and they'd checked into their hotel. He irritatedly tugged the collar of his shirt, thinking what a bunch of wankers they looked like with their stag deer caps complete with antlers. The group were loud and tipsy after drinking from Murtagh's multiple flasks, and people stared at them as they made their way down the street. When they finally stopped in front of a bustling looking establishment, the bouncer at Hootananny Pub was already looking rather anxiously at them.

"Hiya, mate," Brian greeted the burly man at the door. "We have a reservation. Fraser's the name."

Jamie pulled back his cap to reveal his face and nodded. "We're the stag party," he added by way of explanation, pointing at the antlers.

"Is that right?" the big man said, looking at their headgears warily. "Did ye buy all 12 for a buck?"

Ian laughed out loud, slapping his thigh. "Hah, a buck, get it?"

Everyone ignored Jenny's husband, and Murtagh didn't seem to notice as he rocked back and forth on his heels, clearly inebriated. "I paid thirty-six quid for them lot, thank ye very much," he corrected the bouncer in slurred speech, not quite comprehending that the big bloke was taking the piss. "The antlers' hats aren't cheap and are made from fine quality felt. In fact ... they're British made!"

"They dinnae look anything like antlers," the bouncer said dryly. "If anything, they look like offshoots and limp ones at that too."

"Hey!" Quentin shouted from behind, making his way to the front. "That's no way to treat your clients!"

The big man narrowed his gaze. "Aren't ye a bit too old for stag parties?"

Quentin puffed out his chest. "Listen to me, son! I may be a lot older than you, but you have no idea what these hands can do." He clenched and unclenched them to make a point. "Insult my mates again, and I'll string a fiddle with your dick and make you play it while I dance."

"Why ye ..."

Willie stepped in between the red-faced bouncer and Quentin. "Aye, aye, that's enough," he interrupted calmly. "We're no' here to cause trouble. We're here to have some good food, a few drinks and enjoy the entertainment. So, are ye letting us in or no'?"

The beefy man rolled his head and straightened himself, expanding his wingspan in a blatant attempt to intimidate. "Just so that ye know, we're a fine establishment here, and we dinnae care for drunken behaviour," he said bluntly, pointing the finger at all of them. "Disorderly conduct will no' be tolerated. And …" He hesitated for a bit. "... no strippers will be allowed in case ye've ordered one for yer stag party."

Jamie let out a massive sigh of relief. "Ach, thank fuck for that!" 

"Ye lot got that?' hollered Brian to their group. "No bloody drunkenness behaviour!" 

"In other words, no bloody good time for anyone," muttered Ian.

"Them's the rules, take it or leave it!" the bouncer said resolutely before opening the door and letting them in.

..........

A sirloin steak, three pints of lager and several shots later, Jamie was ready to call it a night. The evening was still young, but the rest of the stag party looked like they were just warming up. Murtagh was already up on stage playing the accordion with the band while four lassies on the dancefloor were enthusiastically performing the Highland jig to the crowd's cheers.

When Jamie heard Tom order another round of shots, he winced inwardly. In more ways than one, he already felt well and truly wasted, and it was definitely going to be hard work to get out of his own stag party, considering how his family and friends were all having a grand time, and he was the celebrant. He was just wondering what Claire's bridal party was up to when his phone on the table lit up and started to buzz.

Willie, who was sat next to Jamie, noticed it too, and he frowned when he read it was a text from their mother.

Jamie swiped the screen, expecting some photos or videos of the lasses. Instead, there was a text message.

I'm so sorry to ruin your party, but Annalise has just been arrested.

What the hell? Jamie showed the text to Willie, who nearly shot off from his seat. Mentally shaking off the alcohol-induced fog in his head, Jamie immediately placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Calm down, aye? Ma is still typing."

"We should call them," Willie insisted, already getting up and jerking a thumb at the exit. "It will be tomorrow by the time ma is done texting us what happened."

Jamie nodded and excused themselves from their table while Willie quickly took off. When he finally made it outside, Willie was already on the phone to their ma. He signalled his brother to put her on the speaker. 

"Ma, start right at the beginning. What happened?" Jamie pressed gently.

"Right," Ellen began. "We're at the Holistic Centre for some pampering. It was our idea for Claire's bridal shower, and Yi Tien Cho was kind enough to have it open for us all evening. So when the police saw lights here at the centre, they stopped by to check, thinking someone may have broken in. We were just about to start facial treatment when they walked into the room. Unfortunately, Annalise had one too much glass of champagne to drink and thought the police were strippers ordered for Claire. I don't know what she said to them, but she's handcuffed at the moment ..."

Ellen stopped midsentence when screams and yells erupted in the background and sounds of what seemed like glasses shattering onto the floor. Jamie and Willie looked at each other.

"Ma?" Willie burst. "What's happening?"

"Oh, dear ..." Ellen hiccuped.

"Jesus, ma, tell us what happened!" Jamie shouted. "We can hear everything!" 

"Claire's just been arrested too."

"What?" Jamie and Willie responded simultaneously.

"Please dinnae tell me she's been drinking," Jamie said worriedly.

"No! The silly lass jumped on one of the police's back when they attempted to take Annalise away," Ellen floundered. "Look, lads, I have to go and do something about the lassies. Dinnae fash. Yer aunt and I will sort this mess out. And I'm pretty sure Yi Tien Cho will help. "

What the hell was Claire thinking, jumping on someone's back in her condition? 

When the line went dead, Jamie looked at his brother, who was just as shocked. Willie pointed at a taxi rank, and without a word, they made a run for the lone parked cab before the revellers from a nightclub that just walked out could jump in.

  Dear Readers,

Well, this took ages to update as life and health got in the way, so I had to step back for a while and rest more than usual. Actually, the title in the chapter reflects what's going on with me at the moment. But all is good, and I'm grateful that I can deliver another chapter to you wonderful readers.

As you can see, trouble is never far away from our favourite characters but fear not as they are surrounded by people they love even if they're a bit bonkers and misguided at times. I hope you've enjoyed this instalment, and I'm looking forward to your feedback. Before I go, thank you for the well wishes in my blog and the comments - it’s always something I look forward to and makes me smile. Mind to keep those good vibes rolling whatever life throws at you. Much love. X

[mymelodyheart]

Hey, guys, I just got back from the hospital. I will be posting an update soon. Very tired, so I will not be answering any anons. Keep the good vibes rolling and be nice and stay safe. X

[mymelodyheart]

    Our House (Official Video)

[mymelodyheart]

My commenter on AO3 saw I've posted this here on my blog, and she wishes that I show you her response. Click here if you want to read her reply. If you want to add comments, please be respectful. We all have opinions, and more often, they clash. Let's just all be mindful of that. Thank you. X

Something I Want To Share ...

Here is a comment I received on AO3. I am sharing this with you not because I want to bash the commenter here online for their opinion, but I would like to know if anyone else was offended by my portrayal of Yi Tien Cho’s character in my last chapter. Below is the comment I received and my answer. Thank you for taking the time to read. (PS Whatever your thoughts and opinion are, they are always welcome)

Keep reading

[mymelodyheart]

Something I Want To Share ...

Here is a comment I received on AO3. I am sharing this with you not because I want to bash the commenter here online for their opinion, but I would like to know if anyone else was offended by my portrayal of Yi Tien Cho's character in my last chapter. Below is the comment I received and my answer. Thank you for taking the time to read. (PS Whatever your thoughts and opinion are, they are always welcome)

Comment

I am so disappointed and upset at how you portrayed Yi Tien Cho and massage therapists. What you wrote is plain racist.

Your description of Yi Tien Cho, his practice ("Oriental" Holistic Centre), services offered by him (reflexology and foot fetish? You should have ditched this canon reference as this was extremely racist), massage therapists described as exotic and extremely attractive, massage therapistsexually propositioning Jamie and making advances when he declines (why would you do this? Why would you reinforce the stereotype that Asian woman are sex workers?) - all of this is extremely racist.

You are perpetuating the stereotypes against Asians. None of this is funny. I bet you wrote this thinking it's funny to have a character like Yi Tien Cho and have things lost in translation or Jamie running away from a sex worker. It is not.

Based on your description of Broch Mordha the village seems white (Asian massage therapists are referred as exotic in your story). So the only Asian people in this village are either sex workers or Yi Tien Cho?

What you wrote is extremely upsetting given it was just six months ago where Asian women working at Atlanta spas were murdered because of harmful stereotypes like this.

Do you know how often Asian women get mistaken for sex workers? Every time I travel despite showing my itinerary, return tickets, my business card, I still get questioned by immigration about my travel because they think a young Asian woman travelling alone is a sex worker?

I can't believe out of 27 comments no one commented on how problematic this is. They all just laughed at how funny it was to see Jamie running away from the massage therapist and how funny/weird Yi Tien Cho is. I'm so disappointed and angry. Asians are real people with feelings and stop using Asians for cheap laughs.

My Reply

My grandmother is Asian and if anyone understands racism is me. Though I'm multiracial, it is very apparent to anyone who can see I am part Asian. Because of it, I have been ridiculed, made fun of, bullied, and often than not, I've felt at a disadvantage growing up and in all aspects of my career. 

Though this is painful and disturbing to see, my grandmother always told me, the diatribe I got had nothing to do with me or how I looked. It had more to do with ignorance, upbringing and narrowmindedness of the people who'd been tyrannising me or, in later years, racial profiling me. She taught me compassion for these people because they didn't know any better or didn't have the opportunity, like her, to travel and widen their horizons. And so, I embraced these beliefs.

When I decided to introduce Yi Tien Cho into my story, I thought of the stories my grandmother told me when she first came to Britain. She was old school, a traditionalist and imparted a lot of her culture, her innate (Eastern) healing acumen and her ways to the people of her host country. Some welcomed it. But at most, she was made fun of behind her back, but she took all that in a stride. She, too, found the West's culture strange, funny and hilarious and often dissed their ways, to the annoyance of her (white) husband, who she called stinky because he didn't bathe every day, citing the always cold and damp weather of London. Though my granddad didn't like that being pointed out to him,  he took it as a playful dig and nothing more. 

Now, I've been dubbed exotic now and again, with my olive skin, chinky eyes as the Brits usually called it and long curly dark hair. I saw no malice in it because, for me, it's just a word and words could mean a lot of things depending on how it's delivered. Probably some meant it offensive. But that's not on me. That's on them.  Throughout my life, I've embraced my gran's advice, and I've learned not to take a lot of things personally. As my gran used to say, You are not what people think you are. They are what they think you are. And to add to that, a quote I've seen floating around on social media, Taking offence where none is offered, should be a trigger to self-reflection. 

I know deep in my soul I am not inciting racism or hatred or any of the sort. Therefore I will not apologise for how this story triggered anger in you because I'm not responsible for how you understand.

PS I married a half-black man, and we have a ginger afro son. My child had also been made fun of because of his multi-ethnicity features. But I've passed on my gran's words, and he, too, have learned to accept people's shortcomings with compassion.

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 12 ~Seeing Green~

Previously in What's Brewing Claire?

He took Claire's hand in his, and she turned his way and smiled. Her face looked pale, but there was an aura of tranquillity radiating from her that told him she was happy and content. Though her plate was full of food, it remained untouched, and if anyone had noticed, no one said anything. "How are ye feeling, Sassenach?"

She took a huge deep breath, held it in for a few seconds and then relaxed. "I'm fine," she sighed. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

He knew she was valiantly fighting back the sickness that must be creating havoc in her body but was too stubborn to give in to it. "Shall we tell them about the surprise so you can finally have a rest?" he suggested in a low voice, so no one would hear. "It cannae be comfortable sitting here when ye feel so unwell."

She shook her head as she gulped in more air. "I want to wait for uncle Lamb. He'll be here soon."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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  *WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL & LANGUAGE CONTENT*

  Claire woke up to a soft knock and opened her eyes to see Ellen's head popped out from behind the door. 

"Hullo dear, may I come in?" The older woman smiled, the distinguished lines of her face shining with classical beauty and strength, even more striking with her copper hair tied back in a simple chignon. 

Claire let out an involuntary groan as she looked around and noticed the bedroom in disarray and the untouched food Jamie had prepared for her this morning on the bedside table. She felt embarrassed. She'd been suffering from severe morning sickness ever since that afternoon tea party she'd hosted that she hadn't been able to leave bed for the last couple of days. Though nibbling peppermint leaves and ginger helped staved nausea, it hadn't been enough to help keep any food down in her tummy.

"Ach, Claire, ye poor thing," Ellen sighed as she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Claire made an attempt to get up, but Ellen shook her head. "Dinnae try to get up just yet, pet. First, we talk. I want to see what I can do to help ye out of this misery."

"I'm sorry about the mess," she croaked, sinking back into her pillow.

Ellen brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and smiled. "Dinnae fash about it. Jamie is worried sick. He said ye wouldnae let him stay at home to take care of ye."

"No wonder. Jamie kept checking up on me every minute, and it was driving me insane, so I made him go to work so I can suffer in peace." Claire laughed at her feeble attempt to make a joke.

Ellen patted her hand. "He's worried ye havenae eaten at all these past few days. That's no' good for the baby, dear. We have to try to get some food into ye."

"I can't stomach any food, but I've been keeping myself hydrated." Claire pointed at the mug of herbal tea and a couple of bottles of mineral water she had nearby. "I think the baby is a picky eater."

"Weel, I believe the problem is that Jamie hasn't been giving ye the right food, and I'm here to sort that out."

"You don't have to do that," Claire almost wailed out loud, not wanting to impose. "How about you write down what I need, and I'll sort it out myself."

Ellen tutted and shook her head. "I figured ye might say that. Ye're just as stubborn as my offsprings, if not more, when it comes to getting help. So ..." She clapped her hands on her thighs. "Brian is out and about doing errands, and since I have nought to do until later this afternoon, I thought I'd make myself useful here." Standing up, she placed her hands over her hips and looked Claire over as if trying to determine what task to tackle first. "First, I need ye to get up and take a shower," she ordered. "Yer bedsheets need changing, and that top ye have on looks it could do with a wash."

"But ..."

"Nae buts, young lady. Chop, chop ...up ye go."

Claire tilted her chin in defiance and was about to protest some more when something made her stop. She noticed the stern expression on Ellen's face and had a brief glimpse of what it would have been like to grow up with a mother. Realising there was no room for argument when the Fraser matriarch made up her mind and set her foot down, Claire clamped her mouth shut. Though Ellen was the gentlest and kindest soul, unfortunately, she could also be like a dog with a bone whenever it suited her. Too weak to argue, Claire got up in a huff and stomped off to the bathroom.

When she was done taking a shower, dried herself off thoroughly and put on a fresh nightshirt, she opened the bathroom door to find Ellen fluffing her pillow. 

Ellen patted the bed. "Now that ye're all nice and fresh again, ye can rest a wee bit more while I sort out some food," she announced, pulling back the sheets.

Suddenly feeling exhausted all over again, Claire could only nod her head and crawl back under the covers. The moment her head landed on the pillow, she fell once more into a restless sleep.

Somewhere at the back of her mind, she knew Ellen was buzzing around the cottage, cleaning up and cooking up a storm in the kitchen. A couple of times when Ellen had woken her up to make her sip soda water mixed with grapefruit juice, Claire had attempted to send her home, which had been, of course, a futile endeavour. She had to admit, though, it felt good having someone else there with a mother's touch to take care of her. Jamie had always done a great job tending to her needs, but the way he constantly worried, hovered about, and over-fussed drove her crazy. Ellen knew exactly what to do and never had to ask every few seconds if she was alright. It was as if she had everything under control. But Claire wasn't surprised at all. After raising three children, running a large manor and managing rental cottages on the side, taking care of a sickly pregnant woman had to be child's play for Ellen.

Sometime near early afternoon, she woke up to Ellen walking into the bedroom with a tray of food. Her stomach grumbled for the first time in days when she caught a whiff of chicken broth. She immediately sat up and fixed the pillows behind her back.

"Ah, nice to see some colour back in yer cheeks," Ellen observed, placing the bed tray over Claire's lap. "Now, let's get some food into ye. This should do ye a world of good."

Claire looked down at the bowl of clear broth and a plate of saltines. She waited for the wave of nausea to hit her, but when none came, she relaxed and smiled. "Thank you so much. It smells wonderful." 

"Ye're welcome, dear. I've taken out the wee bits in the broth to start ye off and get yer tummy used to eating again," Ellen explained, grabbing the empty mug and bottles from the bedside table. 

Claire hummed happily as she slurped the broth from her spoon. "Mmm ...this is so good. Jamie has made me all sorts of food, even my favourites, but I can't seem to keep them down."

"The trick is to eat bland food, and wee meals spread throughout the day. And always keep saltine crackers with ye and nibble on it once in a while. It has sodium bicarbonate that should soothe the tummy acids."

"I should have taken the time to read about morning sickness and what food to eat," Claire said in between bites of the cracker. "I hope this will do the trick. Otherwise, I have to get a doctor to put me on an IV drip if I don't get any nutrients into my body. At least, that's what Jamie told me."

Ellen nodded. "Aye, in a worst-case scenario, that's what would happen. But I have another thing in mind that should also help with the pregnancy illness. It helped a lot of the pregnant women folk around here."

Claire's curiosity was piqued. "Oh, what's that?"

"Have ye heard of Yi Tien Cho?"

"Yi Tien, what?"

Ellen chuckled. "Not what! Who! You probably have heard of him by another name. The folks around here call him Mr Willoughby."

Claire nearly choked. "The bloke with feet fetish?"

Ellen waved a hand in dismissal. "Mr Willoughby is a reflexologist, among many other things. That's probably where the feet fetish rumours come from. He runs a wellness centre and practices traditional Eastern medicine. Actually, I find his methods quite effective when it comes to treating many ailments." She leaned over and kissed Claire on the forehead. "Finish yer broth. We'll talk about it some more over a mug of herbal tea out in the garden so ye can have some fresh air about ye. And if ye're well enough, I'll take ye there later for some therapy."

Claire watched Ellen leave the room. She wasn't going to argue because already she was feeling so much better. She was willing to try anything once if it would help her get back on her feet. There were still so many things to do before the wedding. The sooner she was up and about running, the better.

..........

Jamie tugged a fresh shirt on and gathered his things. He was leaving work early even though he knew Claire would be miffed with him for coming home so soon to check on her. It couldn't be helped when there was always that worry about her and their baby slinking into his mind, distracting him while operating heavy machinery. Willie had already warned him that it wouldn't bode well for any of them if he had an accident for not concentrating. So Jamie had decided to call it a day.

He was about to slide into his vehicle when he heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel.

"Ah, there ye are, son! I've been looking everywhere for ye."

Jamie spun on his feet and saw his father walking towards him. "Da! What are ye doing here?"

Brian smiled, the lines on the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jamie had to pause for a bit to take in his father's likeness to his older brother in mannerisms and carriage. If his father hadn't spoken, Jamie would have thought it was Willie approaching at first glance. 

"I heard ye're done for the day. Fancy humouring yer auld man for a quick pint before ye head for home?"

Jamie ran a hand through his sweat-damped hair. "I'd love to, da, but I need to check on Claire."

Brian clapped Jamie on the back. "Yer ma has everything under control. In fact, Claire has eaten already and hasn't thrown up."

"Oh?" Jamie was surprised. He'd tried everything to make Claire eat, even preparing her favourite food, but she'd pushed everything away. He'd already thought about taking her to the hospital to get her into IV fluids and vitamin supplements. "How'd she managed to get her to eat?"

"Ach, ye ken well all about yer ma's trusted chicken broth. It has always done wonders whatever the ailment. If it's good enough for her bairns, then it's good enough for Claire."

Jamie suddenly perked up at the thought of Claire feeling better again. "Weel, all the more, I should head home." He felt like a selfish bastard for putting his needs before anything or anyone else's, but the ache in his balls from desperately wanting Claire couldn't be ignored. "I'm sorry, da. Maybe another time?"

Brian shrugged. "Up to ye, son, but ye'll be going to an empty cottage."

"And why is that?"

"Yer ma took Claire to that Oriental Holistic centre for some sort of wellness therapy that's supposed to help her with morning sickness. That's why I'm here asking ye out for a pint." Brian pulled out a flyer from his pocket and handed it to Jamie. "Ye ken Mr Willoughby, aye? He runs the place."

"Aye, Yi Tien Cho. Nice fella but always seems to be in a hurry to talk," Jamie replied. He read the advertising on a piece of paper and was astounded at the number of health programmes on offer. "They sure provide a lot of services in this wellness centre. Aromatherapy, ear candling, hypnotherapy, reflexology, to name a few." Then he laughed. "They even have Ayurvedic Kamasutra consultation as part of their sex therapy session. Now that's a first here in Broch Mordha."

Brian grinned. "Isnae Kamasutra all about the art of erotic."

"Aye, something like that. I think it's a Sanskrit text with some ancient Hindu teaching about sexuality and complex sexual positions."

"I cannae imagine Mr Willoughby giving lessons in Kamasutra," Brian said, shaking his head in amusement. "But dinnae fash, Claire and yer ma are no' there for Kamasutra consultation. They're there for ladies' afternoon."

Ladies' afternoon? Jamie flipped the other side of the piece of paper and went through the part he'd already read. "Ladies afternoon ye say?"

"Aye," Brian replied. "Yer ma likes to attend ladies' afternoon once a month. It's a creative activity group, and it's called art therapy or something like that. She says it suppose to expand her creative growth and promote stress relief and all that mumbo jumbo. She must have probably thought it would benefit Claire as well."

Jamie balled the piece of paper in his hand after he'd finished reading what the Ladies' afternoon entailed. He stared at his father in disbelief. 

"What? Why are ye staring at me like that for?"

"Christ, da! Have ye any idea what this ladies' afternoon is?"

This time Brian frowned. "What do ye mean?"

"Ye send yer wife ...m-my ma ...to a place where she could paint a bollock naked man? What the bloody hell has that to do with wellness and holistic?"

"What?"

Jamie glared at his father. "Aye, I thought so. Right this very minute, ma and Claire are staring at and painting a naked model's tadger. How could ye have not known?"

"Let me see that flyer," Brian demanded, holding out his hand.

Jamie uncrumpled the piece of paper and handed it back to his father. 

Brian skimmed through the flyer, and the more he read about what the Ladies' afternoon was all about, the bigger his eyes became. "Painting a nude man, if you tackle it, is a very fascinating subject, especially for a woman," Brian read the last bit out loud before throwing the flyer away in disgust, his face suddenly turning a dangerous shade of colour red. "I dinnae ken about ye, son, but I'm off to get my wife out of there."

"Aye, me too," Jamie agreed, sliding into his vehicle. "Ye take yer own car. Claire and I'll need our privacy on the way back home."

Brian nodded. "I'll meet ye there at the entrance."

"See ye in ten." 

Fuming, Jamie reversed his four-wheel drive and followed his father's car. He'd already decided there, and then there was no way was he going to allow Claire to stare at another man's naked bits. If she wanted to paint a naked man, by all means, but it would have to be his naked body and his cock. This was one argument he definitely wasn't planning on backing down from, come hell or high water.

..........

"...I was found early to have skill in composition ...to make the images of my brush resemble the ideas that dance like cranes within my mind. I became known as the fung-wong, a bird of fire ..." Yi Tien Cho delivered as he paced the small circular stage, mesmerisingly waving a stick in the air. The Chinese immigrant might be tiny in frame and stature, but his presence commanded the room with confidence and aplomb as he briefly spoke of an earlier time in his life.

Ellen looked at Claire and smiled conspiratorially. "Ye enjoying yersel'?"

Claire nodded and smiled back, feeling a million times better, her morning sickness almost a distant memory. She was only half-listening to Yi Tien Cho, more focused on the subject of their painting and the technique she wanted to use. Her mother's hobby had been painting, and Claire wanted to create something that would honour that memory. She glanced at the art supplies around her and realised she could use any medium she wanted and wouldn't be restricted to limited methods.

She loosened her shoulders and stared at the blank canvas before her, trying to summon memories of her mother. She took a deep breath, the air subtly smelling of burning incense stick as soft oriental music played in the background, helping her relax and focus. Even the voice of Yi Tien Cho was beginning to calm her, taking her to that place in her mind where creativity could spread its wings and take flight.

"Before picking up a brush, the most important thing to ask yourself is, 'What do I wish to convey?'" Yi Tien Cho emphasised. "Your answers will determine how you proceed and what you need to focus on the subject. So that said, we can continue to ..."

Unexpectedly there was a loud bang as the double doors flew wide open, hitting the walls and making Claire, Ellen and the rest of the group jumped up from their seats. To everyone's astonishment, two very annoyed Fraser males stood in the doorway, their faces red and eyes scanning the room.

"Ellen MacKenzie Fraser!" Brian bellowed.

A litany of colourful words came from Jamie the moment his eyes landed on Claire, making her and Ellen winced.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" she muttered, grabbing Ellen's hand. "What's gotten into them two?"

"Heaven knows, but I'll be smacking their addled heads any second now if they continue with this nonsense."

"Ahh, good afternoon, Mr Jamie, Mr Brian," Yi Tien Cho greeted, seemingly unfazed by the disturbance. "It is ladies' afternoon, but you are both more than welcome to join us now that you are here. We have empty seats here in front if you will take your place. And perhaps a cup of tea first to improve the flow of your chi?"

"There's nothing wrong with my chi!" Brian barked. "I'm here to take my wife home."

Yi Tien Cho smiled and nodded before turning his attention to Jamie. "And how about you, Mr Jamie?"

Jamie shook his head stiffly. "I'm sorry, but the only naked man my fiancée will be painting today is me."

Ellen gasped as the room erupted into a mixture of hoots and catcalls.

"W-what the hell are you on about?" Claire stammered, ignoring the howls and jests.

Jamie and Brian glanced at the stage and then stared at each other, unsure what to do or say next.

"Brian!" Ellen snapped, jolting her husband to look at her.

"Jamie?" Claire questioned more calmly than Ellen.

"I ...ah ... dinnae like the idea of ye looking at another man's..." Jamie shrugged, his eyes darting to the audience as if, for the first time, he just realised there was a roomful of people watching and listening.

"Another man's wot?" Claire looked back at the stage where the subject for today's painting stood, then back once more at Jamie. Then it suddenly hit her. "Are you trying to tell me you're bleeding jealous of a clay statue replica of Michaelangelo's David?" She blew out a breath in exasperation. "Jesus, Jamie, I was planning on painting the upper body because from where I'm sat, my view of the statue's cock is virtually nil."

Yi Tien Cho cleared his throat. "Umm ...Ms Claire, may I remind you, in this room, we call the male's genitalia phallus."

Claire glared at Yi Tien Cho, but before she could say anything, Ellen had already stormed off in the direction of the doorway.

"Now listen to me, ye giant clowns," Ellen began, waving a paintbrush at Jamie's and Brian's faces to the delight of their audience. "The both of ye are gonnae go home like good husbands and let us be to spend an afternoon of relaxation. Because if not ..." She tapped the brush on her husband's chest. "I willnae be coming home. And as for ye ..." She pointed at Jamie. "I'll come and stay in yer cottage for the night."

Jamie didn't need telling twice as he grabbed his father's shoulder and started to pull him away until they were out of sight. After Ellen shut the door, she turned around and smiled with glee. "So, where were we then?"

Grinning, Yi Tien Cho clapped his hands. "Alright, Mr Gordon. You may come in now," he shouted against his cupped hand.

To Claire's shock and the loud appreciative whoops in the room, a handsome man in his mid-thirties confidently walked onto the stage and dropped the sheets covering his body. The spotlight highlighted the carved muscles under his oiled skin, and the nude coloured briefs hugged the crucial bits, leaving the rest of his flesh proud and exposed. 

Claire watched in fascination as Gordon posed into his position, still wondering how this session could be considered remedial. But already, she could hear the sharp scratching sound on canvases as some began to make rough outlines for their painting while Ellen worked on which angle of their subject to capture most.

Claire leaned towards Ellen and spoke through the side of her mouth. "And how is painting a semi-naked man supposed to be therapeutic and help my morning sickness?"

Ellen smiled without looking at her. "Ye'll see."

With no choice but to go with the flow, Claire allowed the pull of the paintbrush to take over. For a while, she forgot everything else, engrossed with the lines and planes of the subject. She never painted like her mother, but occasionally, she dabbled with creating something with colours. This, though, was different. She'd never painted an animate object, least of all a half-naked man. The voyeur inside her broke free, and she had permission to trespass another person's privacy safely from a distance. She pushed the barriers away and forced herself out of her comfort zone to capture the perfect essence, and when she was done, she realised she was the only one left painting, and most had gathered behind her. 

Her audience complimented her as Ellen nudged her shoulder. "Ye've done a fabulous job. I didnae ken ye paint so well."

Claire plonked her paintbrush into a jar of water and sat back to look at her finished work. "My mum used to paint. I still have most of her stuff. I feel painting brings me closer to her."

"So ...how do you feel?"

"I feel good ..." Claire grinned, slumping into her seat. "...and so far, no nausea."

Her audience dispersed, and Yi Tien Cho appeared from nowhere. "Aah, very good to know, Ms Claire. I'm thrilled that this session has proven helpful to your condition."

Claire tilted her head back and looked back and forth between Ellen and Yi Tien Cho, still unsure how the sitting had helped her morning sickness. "But how can we be sure it's not the chicken broth I had earlier that helped with the morning sickness?"

"The chicken broth isnae an instant cure," Ellen pointed out. "The fact that ye havenae touched yer saltines since lunchtime and ye're no' feeling ill means the painting therapy worked."

"But how?"

Yi Tien Cho tapped the air with an index finger. "That, Ms Claire, was an example of mind over matter."

"Mind over matter?" Claire repeated, looking at him warily.

"Yes, it kind of works like meditation," he explained. "When ye're painting or doing something creative, you don't have an option but to disregard everything around you and use the right side of your brain ..." He tapped the side of his head. "...moreso when it's challenging and complex as painting a human form. You see, your right brain is the one that helps you relax and cultivate present moment awareness. When you are in that state, every aspect of you is calm and the hormones in harmony. And when everything is balanced within you ..." He clapped his hands in the air. "Voilà! Nausea gone!"

"As simple as that?" Claire queried, looking at him in fascination.

He scratched the top of his head. "It doesn't always work for everyone, but when that happens, we use other forms of therapies better suited for the individual's needs."

"Interesting," Ellen murmured, tapping her chin. "Maybe Brian and Jamie could use some of the therapies on offer here to exorcise their crabbiness."

Yi Tien Cho chuckled. "Already sorted, Ms Ellen. When you chased them away, my assistant caught up with them and offered them a Thai massage to help them relax. Both of you should come home to very pliant and obliging partners."

"How'd yer assistant persuaded them to have the massage?" Ellen asked curiously. "Dinnae ken about Jamie, but Brian is funny about strangers touching him."

Yi Tien Cho smiled broadly. "No need. The masseuses aren't only competent, but they're also extremely attractive and, how should I say ....exotic. Now which man could refuse ..."

Claire's head snapped up. "Come again?"

Yi Tien Cho's eyes widened as he realised his error. "It's not what you think," he said, raising both his hands, his one eye ticking uncontrollably. "Mr Brian and Mr Jamie remained fully clothed while the masseuse stretched them into poses until they found their release."

Release? Ellen and Claire looked at each other, and without missing a beat, they both started grabbing their things, muttering excuses about making dinner. Yi Tien Cho could only look on with dismay, wondering what he'd done wrong. But Claire's mind kept replaying a mental image of a gorgeous foreign lass touching Jamie as he reached his Nirvana. No bloody way is that happening!

Just as they were about to exit the room, Yi Tien Cho shouted after them. "I think my explanation was lost in translation. What I meant by release is, relieving them of muscle tension and pressure. I would suggest practising breathing exercises before you see your partners. Very highly recommended!"

..........

Jamie was just unwrapping the assorted dim sum he'd ordered twenty minutes ago from a takeaway when Claire walked into the cottage. The colours on her cheeks were back, and she looked radiant in her baby blue dungaree dress, if not a wee bit flustered.

"You're home," she breathed.

"Why shouldnae I be?" he asked, straightening to his full height.

She didn't answer the question; instead, she discarded her jean jacket and dropped it on the sofa along with her oversized bag and proceeded to scratch Rollo's ear.

Jamie ignored the agitation whipping in his belly that had been there since he'd arrived home. After his mother had shooed him and his father away from Claire's painting therapy, they'd ended up having a Thai massage. It had all happened in a blur. One minute he and Brian had been arguing whether to hang around and wait for Ellen and Claire. And then the next, they had been ushered into a massage room. Free of charge, one of the staff had said. 

The massage had been overall good, but throughout the session, he'd been thinking about how happy he was to see Claire feeling better and the plans he had in store for them. Unfortunately, thinking of the plans had resulted in embarrassing himself by getting a full-blown erection. The masseuse had taken this as a sign of interest, and she'd tried to proposition him. Realising the misunderstanding, he'd jumped to his feet and left the massage room in a hurry. He'd almost tripped in the process, trying to get as far away from the girl's advances as possible.

As he'd driven back home, he'd hovered between two choices. Tell Claire about what had happened or keep it to himself. Having heard horror stories about hormonal women in their pregnancy, it was hard to make a decision, but his conscience seemed hell-bent on pushing him to confess. Nothing had happened, and he'd done nothing wrong, but that masseuse might start talking, and he knew what village gossips were like. If the rumours reached Claire, he was sure it would end up being a whole different story, and a misunderstanding could ensue. 

He quickly downed the whisky he'd poured himself earlier in one go, the action catching Claire's eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him, asking without words what that was all about.

Jamie slowly put the tumbler down on the table. "Just fancied a wee bit of drink before dinner," he said, walking over to her and giving her a lingering kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry for barging in yer therapy earlier. Even if it hadnae been a statue ye were painting, I should have known better than to behave the way I did. I guess I was jealous of the thought of ye looking at another man's dick."

"The subject wasn't a statue at all," she replied after a moment. "We painted a half-naked man, and I actually enjoyed it." When he frowned, she quickly shook her head and smiled. "Not at ogling another man's body but the satisfaction of creating an artwork." She tipped her head up to look at him. "How about you? Did you enjoy your massage?"

"How'd ye know about that?" he asked almost defensively.

"Yi Tien Cho might have mentioned it."

Jamie felt his face heat up. He had to tell her. He'd told her he didn't want her keeping secrets from him, and it was just right he was forthright with her too. He swallowed hard and hoped he was doing the right thing. "I ...ah, how shall I say this? I ...sort of embarrassed myself. But it didnae have anything to ..."

She let out a sharp intake of breath, stopping him mid-sentence. "The masseuse was that good, is that it?" Jamie thought he saw a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, but it was gone before he could decipher it any further. "So, did you find her pretty?" she asked, the question catching him off guard.

"Aye, she was ..." he said truthfully. "But it had nought to do with ..."

She pushed him away with both hands and marched towards the bedroom.

He groaned inwardly. "Sassenach! It wasnae like that!" he appealed, walking behind her. 

"Was it not? Seems pretty straightforward case to me," she grumbled, flicking on the lights to the room.

"It's not what ye think."

"Since when did you become an expert on what I think?"

"Sassenach, please let me explain ..."

She plonked herself on the edge of the bed and glared at him, frantically tugging off her sandals and kicking them off. "What's there to explain? The masseuse was good at what she does, she's attractive, and your body reacted. Pretty male standard stuff, I would say." She shot to her feet and stormed past him. "There's nothing more to talk about!"

Jesus Christ, this cannae be happening! He took two long strides and grabbed her arm before she reached the bathroom and spun her to face him. Feeling bewildered at her outburst, he stared at her flushed face trying to discern what lurked behind those amber eyes. She was usually the level headed and calm one between them, and seeing her react like this over a lass was a novelty. He'd prepared himself for the eventuality of a gamut of mood swings that usually accompanied pregnancy, but this was different. This was way too unreasonable behaviour coming from her, even if hormone changes had something to do with it. 

Slowly realisation dawned on him, and it was clear as day, and he couldn't help but grin like a pillock. 

"What's so funny?" she hissed.

"Ye're jealous."

Sputtering, she tried to twist her arm out of his grasp. "I beg your pardon?"

"My beautiful Sassenach is jealous. I cannae believe it."

"No, I'm not!"

"Aye, ye are. Admit it!"

"You've no idea how close you are to getting your balls ripped off!"

Jamie crowded her space, not giving Claire any room to escape. She tried to sidestep him, but he merely walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. 

He tipped her face up with a finger under her chin and shook his head. "I dinnae ken whether to be amused or annoyed with ye right now. Ye're jumping to conclusions without giving me the time of day to explain. By now, it should be very clear to ye that ye're the only woman who could stir things inside me, turn my world upside down and slip that sense of rightness back into place ...right in here." He thumped his chest to make a point. "If ye'd allowed me to talk, then ye would have known that the hard-on I was walking around with had to do with thoughts of ye. The masseuse assumed I was reacting to her touch, and when she propositioned me, I was out of there before she could even finish her sentence."

Claire's eyes narrowed, studying his face closely as if judging the sincerity of his confession. In a way, Jamie was glad he'd told her, and he was hoping they could move on from this and enjoy the rest of their evening. If she needed space, he'd give her that, but he wouldn't allow her to think the worse, especially when her emotions were all over the place.

"So, you didn't stay?" she asked.

He feathered kisses across her forehead, then down along her cheek. "Ye have nothing to be jealous of, mo chridhe," he whispered. "Ye ken well ye rule my entire universe." He felt her body relaxed, her soft breaths fanning his neck, making his cock throb in his jeans. "Ye shine so bright, I couldnae look at another woman even if I wanted to."

He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her bottom lip, hovering there as he spoke. "Ye ken I'm a jealous man when it comes to ye, even if ye give me no reason to feel that way. It's horrible and all-consuming to be in that state, and I dinnae ever want ye for even a single moment to feel even a smidgen of it." He brushed his lips over hers, stopping at the corner of her mouth, kissing it gently. "So I'm so sorry ye had to feel that way."

She took a deep breath and puffed it out, her breasts swelling at the mere action. "And I'm sorry for doubting you."

He traced his finger over a nipple, his heart aching at the sight of her looking so excruciatingly beautiful. "Ye never really doubted me," he managed.

She playfully tugged the hem of his shirt. "No. I didn't. I just didn't like the thought of another woman touching you," she admitted.

"I thought I'd feel dead chuffed hearing ye say that. But I dinnae. All I ever wanted for ye is to feel secure in my love."

"I do," she whispered. "Even when we're bickering or when we're having our worst moments."

Jamie inhaled deeply to pacify the urgency pressing against his jeans. He wanted her badly, but he didn't want to rush her, thinking of their baby and her recovery from her morning sickness. If it had been all up to him, he would have taken her by now against the wall. He ignored the weight of his arousal and attempted to smile, the command not quite reaching his mouth. "Would ye like something to eat first? I've ordered takeaway, but if ye prefer the broth ma made, I can quickly reheat it up for ye."

Claire's hands slipped around his neck and tugged him closer, her soft lips pressing against his jawline. "I'm hungry for you. You think you can deal with that first?" 

Reeling from her bold challenge, her request hung in the air as he lifted her against him, his mouth greedily delving between her supple cleavage. His need roared in his head like a powerful hurricane wind, and amid the lustful haze, his heart expanded with love, threatening to choke him out of air. 

He hoisted Claire higher, and she banded her legs around his middle as he resumed feasting on the soft mounds of her breasts until a faint moan passed her lips. "God, ye have nae idea how I've missed this," he muttered against her heated skin, his teeth tugging at the neckline so he could lick her nipple. "Tell me again, this is really what ye want, and the baby will be alright with what we're about to do."

"I want you now, Jamie," she whimpered. "And the baby will be fine."

Jamie groaned, powerless to stop his hand from slipping under her dress and running along the soft curves of her thighs. He walked them to bed while Claire attempted to rip his shirt off. "Ah sweet, Jesus, ye want this as much as I do."

She answered by arching her back with a frustrated soft grunt and pressing her centre against his aching cock, making him even more impatient to bury himself inside her.

Gently, Jamie deposited her down in the centre of the bed, his pulse wildly racing at the sight of her breasts straining against her dress. They struggled together, laughing in between as they pulled the dress and her knickers off her body before divesting his own clothes in record time. When her eyes landed on his hand, stroking his erection from root to head, she bit her lower lip in anticipation, making him groan out loud. He'd gone nearly a week not having her, and he could only hope he could hold on a little while longer, her needs always in the forefront of his mind. His desperation must have been apparent on his face because her arms impatiently reached out for him.

He leaned over and kissed the hollow of her neck, his fingers travelling over her belly to stroke the wet folds between her legs. Her thighs instantaneously parted, and her hips lifted to meet his hand. "Ach, ye're so ready for me, Sassenach." He rubbed her sensitive nub, watching as she flung her head sideways and gasped. "This was all I could think of while waiting for ye to come home." He lowered himself to the floor and hooked her leg over his shoulder. Parting her with his fingers, he dipped his head for a quick taste, and she almost undid him with her throaty sigh. With concerted effort, he drew his gaze up from the juncture of her thighs, forcing her to look at him. "I want ye to watch me, Sassenach, so ye'll see how much I want ye."

Too impatient to wait for her response, he tongued her nub with circular motions before open-mouthed sucking her core. Her body jerked upward, writhing and flailing uncontrollably that he had to place a hand on her belly to keep her still. Her voice was raspy, from imploring him to keep going to mumbling disjointed words to chanting his name over and over again. Too drunk and high on the taste of her, her screams of release only registered dimly as impatient fingers tugged his head, breaking through the sensual trance. 

"Please, Jamie, I need you now."

Overcome with his own need, he kissed her nub one last time before rising over her body and shoving her legs wider. Without an ounce of finesse, he roared in satisfaction as he drove the entire length of his cock inside her with one rough thrust, muffling her scream with a deep kiss. "Aaah, Christ," he breathed against her panting lips. "This is how it's always gonnae be with us, isn't it?" His body shook as he pulled out and sank into her tight heat repeatedly, tamping down the urge to take her hard. "Only ye can make me feel like this. Only ye."

He braced himself on his elbows and began rolling his hips, thrusting into her in controlled and deliberate measures. He desperately wanted his own release, but at the same time, he wanted this moment to last, always mindful of her condition. When her eyelids dropped, he touched their foreheads together, prompting her to focus on him. The union of their bodies and the connection he felt on a soul level were so primordial and deeply ingrained, it made him feel exposed and raw, and he wanted her to see and feel all of it. So that there would never be a doubt in her mind again who he belonged to.

"My eyes see only ye, Sassenach," he whispered, kissing her eyelids, his lower body driving his rigid length into her wet heat. "My lips kiss only yers, and my heart sits on the palm of yer hand to do as ye wish with it." He caressed the side of her throat with his mouth and inhaled her sweet fragrance. "Yer hands are the only hands my body will rouse to. I am yers as ye are mine. Always remember that." His orgasm was inexorable, hovering over him, ready to spill his seed, but he held on to the strained tether of his self-control. She'd begun to shake and convulse around him, her thighs gripping around his waist. It felt like she was marking him and embedding herself in him with every contraction of her inner walls.

"And you're my first and my last." 

His head spun, but he reminded himself not to thrust any harder like a rutting beast, but the needy part of him only cared about hammering his cock into her to assuage the building ache. He wanted to be gentle and savour the moment, but his body wouldn't allow it. 

As if reading his concerns, her thighs opened wide to take him deeper. Planting kisses along his neck and collarbone, she circled her hips and dug her fingernails into his bottom, urging him to move faster and harder.

"Fuck, Sassenach, I dinnae want to hurt the baby nor ye," he gritted.

"You won't," she whispered, kneading his stiff muscles on his shoulder. "I promise."

Jamie lifted his head to search her eyes. But one look at her parted lips, face suffused with pleasure, his control finally snapped.

She gasped out loud when he began to pick up his pace, pounding into her as he let out a strangled groan, his own breathing becoming more laboured with each thrust. Her hands flew around his neck, and her legs curled once more around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back as she moaned. 

"Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled. "I cannae stop now." 

The bed creaked, and the headboard banged against the wall, the dull thump mingling with her cries as she came apart beneath him. The sight of her riding out her orgasm against his cock and the feel of her damp skin made it impossible to hold back any longer. He shattered into her with a loud roar and came with such ferocity, he thought his heart stopped. Wanting to extract every last ounce of pleasure, he fused his lips with hers with an animalistic sounding groan, their tongues tangling as they slowly regained their breathing under control. Sated, he dropped his head into her neck, muttering her name over and over, his hips continuing to pump even after the shudderings passed.

Claire blew out a shaky breath in his ear. 

"Ye alright, Sassenach?"

"Oh, God, we should do that more often."

"That good, aye?" 

"Uh-huh."

He moved off her to roll on his side and grinned. "I agree. I'm all for having more sex."

"I meant to say we should more often take breaks from sex. It will make our lovemaking more intense."

What? He pulled back to study her expression. "Ye're bloody joking, right?"

"A few days tops!"

"Nae fucking way!"

Claire's body shook with silent laughter.

"Ye think this is a laughing matter now?"

She covered her face with her hand to hide her smile, telling him she was only teasing. 

"Christ! Ye think that was my best performance, and I cannae top that, is that what ye're trying to say?" Taking Claire by surprise, Jamie rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, so she was on top of him. Using one hand, he placed his thickening arousal against her core, making her gasp. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Ach, Sassenach. We were just getting warmed up." He lifted her hips and slid his cock inside her, effectively putting an end to her laughter.

Dear Readers,

I'm sorry I didn't post any updates last week. I had a few problems with my arm spasm, and it was hard to type when it came out in full force. Harder also to write a sex scene when your limb is shaking all over the place. Anyway, I'm not telling you this because I want a pity party. Just letting you know what happened.

So that said, I'd like to thank you all for your patience and your continued readership. It makes me happy to know there are you lot reading my stories, and I want you to know I appreciate that. 

I hope you're well, keeping safe and healthy. Keep the good vibes rolling, guys! Because the world needs more of that more than ever. X

[mymelodyheart]

Just wanted to let you know I spent my morning rereading Starting Over ❤️❤️❤️ It is one of my favorites ❤️❤️❤️

Ah, thank you❤️. It seems ages ago I wrote Starting Over. I went through it a few weeks ago and saw a lot of mistakes. Maybe one day, I'll edit it from start to finish, starting with my first ever fic. I'm so glad you enjoyed it enough to reread it. It's heartwarming to get messages like this, and sometimes I still can't believe that there are people out there who like to read what I have to write. Thank you so much for your kind words. It means a lot, and I truly appreciate it. X

[mymelodyheart]

Hey, guys! I'm running behind with my update this week because of these damn arm spasms. Again!  It's calmed down now, but I will be resting tonight and resume writing this weekend. I'm on the four thousand words mark, so hopefully, it will be published soon. Oh! ...and also, I will be introducing a new character in my next chapter. If you want to have a wee guess, this character first appeared in the book Voyager and on the TV series season three of Outlander. Sorry, I can't say which episode because that would be too easy. Happy guessing! X

[mymelodyheart]

Anyone remember this poem Sam tweeted years ago? He tweeted Kim Moore’s poem with the caption I love this on September 29th, 2015. I thought I’d share it with you guys after I came across it in my Outlander folder. Enjoy!

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 11 ~What’s Brewing Claire?~

picture credit

 Previously in Stramash ...

Jamie pulled back to look at her face and tipped her chin up to survey the cut on her lips. "He did this?"

She could only nod as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jamie turned the gun in his hand and marched towards the door, shouting at the police ushering Jack out to wait. Before Claire could scream for him to stop, he brought his forehead down on Jack's nose in a head butt before handing the weapon to a nearby officer. The sound of cartilage crunching echoed in the tiny room, making Claire wince. Jack fell onto his knees with a loud thud, holding his bleeding nose, shouting improprieties muffled by his hands.

"Now, that was uncalled for, Fraser," an officer clucked, but his grin and the amusement in his eyes implied he wasn't too bothered over Jack's injury. "Now go and get some rest. I'll handle the paperwork and delay the statement for tomorrow morning. You both have done enough to save the day."

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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  Jamie studied Claire. She lay relaxed on the examination table, going through her phone and reading messages. She looked untroubled and seemed to have recovered from the ordeal this past weekend. The only tell-tale sign left of that hellish night was the tiny scab on her lower lip and bruising on her right cheek where Jack Randall had struck her. She was whole and safe, and yet here he was, having trouble letting go of that incident.

When he'd helplessly watched Jack shoved a gun against her neck and dragged her away from his sight, he'd felt the full gravity of her vulnerability and his inadequacy to secure her safety. But how Claire had handled the situation was nothing short of mind-blowing, albeit heart-stopping. She'd kept her presence of mind, aptly keeping Geneva talking while the tech specialist monitored the audio listening device. The moment they'd identified the voice on the phone, the administration in Broadmoor had been immediately alerted to make sure Geneva didn't go anywhere until the police arrived.

Geneva and Jack were in jail now, awaiting trial and most likely would stay there for a very long time. He really needed to stop fixating on what could have gone wrong and focus on the matter at hand, like their baby's condition and Claire's health.

He puffed out a breath and sprung onto his feet. "Ye comfy, Sassenach?"

"I'm good," she replied, without looking up from her phone screen.

"Ye ken, we can cancel the baby reveal for another day."

"I know, but I prepared so much food already."

They were having his family and closest friends over for afternoon tea to share the news of their baby. Claire had insisted on a celebration to invalidate the ordeal Geneva had put them through, determined not to allow recent events to cast a shadow over their upcoming nuptials. Jamie had thought it was too soon, but Claire had pressed that the sooner they moved forward from the incident, the better. 

So last night, she'd spent the entire evening preparing shortcrust pastries, scones batter and making Victorian sponge cake. Apparently, she'd taken some lessons in baking and cooking from Mrs Fitz so that she could host parties like Jenny and his ma. It was as if her work, all the travelling she'd been doing, preparing for the wedding and recovering from trauma wasn't enough. She also needed to put up a brave front.

Though the doctor had given Claire an all-clear in London after a routine checkup, Jamie had insisted on another examination when she'd complain of spotting last night. He hadn't a clue what that had meant, but the concerned look on her face was enough for him to push her for another doctor's appointment. To his relief, she'd hardly put up a fight, and he'd immediately arranged a consultation with a private practice to speed things along since the NHS hospitals were notorious for long waits.

"I just want ye to be certain, Sassenach. That's all. I dinnae want this tea party putting a strain on ye."

Claire put her phone down and glanced up at him. "I'm pregnant, Jamie, not incapacitated. I know you're worried about the spotting, but I'm quite certain pregnant women gets them sometimes. I don't feel ill, but here we are, taking precautions."

Sighing, he moved to her side and took her hand in his. "It's just that I'm bothered about that bruise behind yer back. It looks vicious. I ken bruising looks a lot worse than it is, but I cannae help but wonder if the baby has been harmed when ye banged yer behind on those shelving units after Jack pushed ye. I'm concerned about any delayed complications. Or if the doctor in London overlooked something."

She squeezed his hand. "Your worries are valid, Jamie. The odds of miscarriage or complications might be highest in the first trimester, but I haven't had any issues." She shrugged. "Oh, well, except for the tiny spotting last night. I'm sure everything's fine. Try not to worry."

Easier said than done, Jamie thought. How could Claire sit there looking so calm?  Now that she's pregnant, the world was suddenly full of threats: unpasteurised juice and dairy, soft cheeses that she loved so much, fish high in mercury, saunas and hot tubs, secondhand smoke, changing Adso's litterbox. Not to mention aunt Jocasta's bloody stories of baby-abducting fairies. He really needed to stop reading too much pregnancy information; otherwise, he'd go insane.

Claire gave him a look that said she could tell he was overthinking things.

He promptly kissed her on the lips. "Aye, I guess ye're right," he conceded. "I'm sorry for over-reacting."

The door suddenly opened, and in walked a friendly-looking middle-aged female doctor. "Hello, Claire! Dr Fiona Innes. How are we feeling today?"

"I'm good, just a bit nervous about the spotting," Claire breathed. 

"Understandably." Then the doctor turned to Jamie. "And ye're..."

"James Fraser. The one who got her up the duff," he replied, taking the doctor's outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake. 

"Jamie!" Claire gasped, her face crimsoning profusely.

The doctor laughed. "Hah! I like that! A good sense of humour will get ye through anything." She dragged the ultrasound monitor closer to the exam table and pulled up a stool. "So, let's get started so we can put both yer mind at ease, shall we?" She proceeded to put gloves on and prepare the probe that Jamie had the unfortunate luck of knowing already what it was for. "Now, Claire, I want ye to lie back and place yer feet in the stirrups." 

Claire did as she was told while Jamie helped her ease down. He winced when he heard the sound of latex snapping over the probe. He looked away and took Claire's hand in his.

"Is this your first ultrasound visit, Mr Fraser?"

He glanced over his shoulder, thinking the doctor must have noticed the strain on his face. "Aye and no."

Dr Innes arched an eyebrow.

Jamie pointed at the probe and tried not to grimace. "I've seen a doctor used that thing on her when she was hospitalised a few weeks ago. I hadn't known what was going on then, so I walked away and let them get on with it."

"I see." The doctor refocused her attention back to Claire. "Now relax for me and big deep breaths," Dr Innes advised as she put lubricating gel on the blunt tip of the probe. "This will be a tad bit uncomfortable."

Claire shut her eyes and took a deep breath while Jamie whispered all sorts of nonsense in her ear. When her grip clenched into a tight vice, he pressed his lips on the top of her head.

A few seconds passed, and that's when he heard it. He stilled. It was loud, clear and steady. The unmistakable sound of a heartbeat coming from the monitor. It was their baby's. He let out a sharp exhale, realising he'd discovered something powerful in the tiny, vulnerable life form growing in Claire's womb.

His ma once said that the heartbeat was the first music that a child heard and that every bairn was born knowing the rhythm of their mother's song. To Jamie, this was the sound of their child's soul, the unspoken words already speaking volumes. It was as if it was saying, I'm alive and well, can you hear me?

"Weel, that sounds like a strong and healthy heartbeat there," Dr Innes remarked. "See right there?" Jamie and Claire stirred in their positions to take a better look at where the doctor was pointing. "That's yer baby."

Releasing Claire's hand, Jamie stepped closer to the monitor and tipped his head to the side, adjusting his eyes to discern the grainy image on the monitor. When he finally figured out the shape, mixed emotions began to bombard him in all directions. He felt the complexity of love at seeing a piece of himself and Claire on the screen, inspiring fierce protective instinct to kindle within him. Words like elation, joy and sobering responsibility were too meagre terms and did not give justice in describing how visceral all his emotions were.

"T-that ..." Jamie pointed an index finger at the image, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Is that a ..."

"It's not what ye think, Mr Fraser. That's the foot," Dr Innes responded briskly. She shifted the probe at a different angle to capture another image. "As far as I can see, everything seems to be in perfect working order. I can safely say ye have a healthy, strong baby, so ye can both rest easy."

Jamie continued to stare at the monitor, still trying to wrap the idea of impending fatherhood around his head. "The baby is no' missing any parts, is it?"

"The baby has everything it should have at this stage of the pregnancy," the doctor replied, amused. "Though I think we'll need another few weeks to be able to tell the gender."

"Thank you so much, doctor," Claire said gratefully, pushing herself upright. "We were worried about the spotting and thought it might have had to do with the stress and trauma of what happened last weekend. It was mad, really. I nearly got abducted and had a gun pointed at me."

The doctor threw the probe's latex into the waste and began peeling off her gloves, seemingly unaffected by what Claire had just revealed, making Jamie think physicians were used to hearing such stories. The doctor gave them both an understanding look. "Having a gun pointed at ye is quite jarring, so I understand why ye're both concerned. So how are ye coping mentally?" 

"I try not to dwell on it and carry on as usual," Claire shrugged. "So far, I'm dealing with it fine."

The doctor looked at Claire curiously, her expression full of empathy. "Sometimes ignoring it isn't as cut and dried as you think. Try and get some counselling. Ye're going to deal enough with all the hormones impacting yer physiological, physical and mental well being. This is the time to be enjoying this exciting time in yer life, so counselling is just taking a precautionary step to ensure you are in a good place and prepared for what the next few months will throw at ye."

Jamie locked eyes with Claire, and a silent agreement passed between them. They both understood the impact of a traumatising experience, and he wanted to take the doctor's advice on board. 

"I'll make sure she and the baby are well taken care of," he reassured the doctor, patting Claire's thigh.

"I'm sure ye will," the doctor smiled, pressing buttons on the monitor.

"Let's just hope he won't go over the top," Claire added. "He has a tendency to do that."

The doctor pulled out copies of ultrasound images from the printer and glanced up at Jamie. "I can understand the need to protect, but just bear in mind, us women are more resilient and stronger than we look," she pointed out. "And pregnant women aren't as frail as society perceives them to be."

Jamie laughed. "There's no question about that. After all, my wife-to-be here achieved what twenty-four specialist firearms officers could not."

"Oh?" Dr Innes looked surprised. "And what was that?"

"She single-handedly took down a maximum-security prisoner escapee, helped led the police to his psychopathic accomplice and in the process saved an innocent mistakenly imprisoned," Jamie explained. "I ken it was a foolish move with her being pregnant and all ..."

"It might have been foolish, but I happen to believe Claire's response is inherent in all mothers and mothers-to-be, and it's something almost impossible for the human brain to override." 

"Och, aye?"

"It's called maternal instinct, Mr Fraser, and it's as old as life itself." Dr Innes got up and handed him an envelope containing the ultrasound images. "So woe to anyone who dares a mother-to-be or new mother harm because they're utterly more ferocious than any man wielding a gun when it comes to defending their nest." She looked between him and Claire and smiled. "Anyway, congratulations to you both on your coming parenthood." Then she faced Jamie and patted him on the shoulder. "And as for ye, congratulations on yer newly acquired bodyguard. Ye can sleep well tonight." 

..........

Jamie walked in and placed the last of their shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. "Is there anything else ye need, Sassenach, before I go?"

Claire felt him approach and busied herself, placing apples in a large bowl and then lemons in another. "Umm ...I think I have everything I need." She felt his eyes boring into her back but tried her best not to get distracted. "Shall I make a sandwich to take with you?"

"No, I'm no' hungry."

"Oh, alright ...I guess I shall see you later then."

"I have a few minutes to spare. Want to talk?"

"Talk about what?"

"What ye're feeling. Ye haven't said much all morning ...since we left the clinic. And ye hardly talked to me while we went food shopping."

She took out a knife and honing steel from a drawer and went through the motion of sharpening the blade. "Oh ...I guess I must have been preoccupied with my mental to-do list. That's all."

A long silence ensued, and after what felt like an eternity, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Sassenach, can ye stop what ye're doing for a minute and look at me?"

Hot tears suddenly settled behind her eyes, but she fiercely blinked them back and breathed deeply, swallowing down conflicting emotions and refusing to let them fall. She didn't want to be the type of woman who cried at the littlest and inconsequential thing. She'd never been a crier before, and she wasn't about to become one if she could help it.

"I'm busy, Jamie."

"Please."

Bracing herself, she placed down her utensils and faced him. "What is it?"

"This ..." Jamie waved his hand at the shopping bags on the counter. "I ken what this is. Ye havenae sat still ever since we came back from our trip. Ye've decluttered our bedroom and cleaned out all the kitchen cupboards. And now an afternoon tea party? I ken what ye're doing. Ye're keeping yersel' busy to forget what happened in London instead of talking about it."

"No." She shook her head. "It's not that."

Jamie impatiently rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "Weel, what is up with ye then?"

"Hormones."

"Hormones," Jamie echoed. "Why did you no' just say so?"

She felt her face heat up. "I don't know. Maybe I didn't know it at the time. Or perhaps, because it all seems so silly that I'm getting all worked up for nothing."

Jamie stepped closer and braced her cheeks with both hands, a calloused thumb tenderly swiping her lower lip. "Listen to me very carefully. Whatever ye're feeling or going through, hormonal or not, is never silly. Everything ye have to say is important to me. Trust me on that. I always want to know if something is bothering ye and be able to help ye fix it. Yer body is going through many changes, and it's normal yer emotions are all over the place. So no more self-deprecating thoughts about yer feelings. Am I making myself clear?"

She pursed her lips and nodded, tamping down the urge to cry.

"Very well then, tell me what's going through that mind of yers. At least we can clear the air between us before I go, and my whole family comes and start noticing that something isnae right. Today is supposed to be a celebration of our baby. I dinnae want anything to ruin this day in as much as I think we should delay this for another time."

"Fine." She shut her eyes to search for the right words, but no matter how she formulated them in her head, it didn't sound right. Saying it out loud would only make her appear pathetic. But there was no way around it once Jamie set his mind in extracting something from her. 

"Sassenach?"

Her eyes flew open. "Yes?"

"Yer face is getting redder by the second. I'm beginning to worry."

"Very well, if you must know ..." She blew out a breath. "You haven't touched me since that night in London, that's what," she blurted out. "I feel like you're avoiding me. Every time it was time for us to go to bed, you always had some excuse, like you haven't walked the dog or you need to check the emails." Unable to hold it back any longer, she suddenly burst out crying. "I know it's hormones talking, and I'm acting silly. But I can't help but feel the way I feel because I'm hormonal and horny. That's why I'm keeping myself busy, so I will not overthink things. Because if I did, I'd start believing you don't want me anymore, even if logic says it's not true. Happy now?"

He blinked rapidly as if his brain was short-circuiting. 

"Yeah, just the reaction I knew I was going to get. See what I mean when I said I was acting silly?"

"No," he groaned out loud. "Sweet baby Jesus! Ye cannae say things like horny  when I have to go."

Claire slapped Jamie on the chest. "Jamie! You wanted to know what was wrong! Now that I've said it, you can't blame me for it!"

"Cancel the tea party, and I'll tell Willie I'll be late!"

"No!"

"Why no'?"

"Because!"

With a deep groan, he grabbed her neck from behind and gave her a hard kiss. There was nothing tender or playful about it, just a desperate act of trying to get his fill. He let out a frustrated moan as his tongue swept in her mouth, and a hand cupped her breast, his arousal hard and thick against her belly, letting her know how much he wanted her. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both gasping for air. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing harshly into her face. "How could ye think, even in yer hormonal state, I dinnae want ye any more? Damn it, Sassenach, I've been aching for ye these past few days."

"Then why didn't you touch me?" 

He shook his head as he attempted to even his breath. "That night in London, after I took ye back to the hotel, I wanted to bury myself deep inside ye so I could remind myself that ye're really alive and back in my arms. But when I saw that bruising behind yer back and knowing what ye've just been through in yer pregnant state, I thought if I took ye right there and then, I might cause ye irreparable damage, physically and psychologically. I wanted to make sure ye're properly healed first and that our baby was safe. God, all those nights I was away from our bed, I've been doing push-ups to release all those pent-up frustrations of not being able to make love to ye."

"So you did want me all along ..."

He tapped her nose. "Aye, ye silly goose."

"Oh Jamie," she sighed. "You still don't get it, do you?" She placed a hand against his face and smiled for the first time that morning. 

"Get what?" he asked, looking suddenly confused.

"You should know by now, lovemaking is the best stress reliever. I thought you knew that." 

"Weel ..."

"Remember the times when you were all worked up and conflicted, and how much better you felt after sex?" When he nodded, she pressed on. "Whenever you and I have sex, whether it's fast, hard, long or a quickie, it always came from a place of love. And we've talked about this before ...love heals. The most wonderful thing about our lovemaking, it puts us in that intimate space where we can better connect, heal, open us to those hard conversations, helping us in the process to find closure and release. If sex worked for you to ease your stress, why should it be any different for me? I needed you most after that horrendous night, Jamie. I needed your body to ground me. But I understand now why you didn't touch me that night."

Jamie stared at the ceiling and sighed before looking at her with a mixture of wonderment and torment. He let out a pained laugh. "Weel, right now, I'm under a lot of stress and pressure." He took her hand and placed it on his bulging arousal to make a point. "How about we continue this in the bedroom and let off some steam? I'm stressed, and ye're horny. Ideal combo! Ye can use my body anyway ye want."

Claire clucked her tongue and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Oh, no, you don't, you sneaky, Scot! You're running late as it is." She placed both hands on his chest and began pushing him out of the kitchen. "How about you let me get on with food preparation, and you finish what you need to do so you can come home as soon as you can in time for the tea party?" she proposed.

"How about my stress levels?" he grumbled.

"Your stress levels are fine!" She turned him around and smacked him on the bum. "Now go. Mrs Fitz will be here any minute to bring the Battenberg cake I ordered."

At the mention of Mrs Fitz, Jamie didn't need any more prodding. He gave her another quick kiss and left the cottage, muttering something about getting a new house before slamming the door behind him.

..........

The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed by quick, and something in Claire lightened even though she was a nervous wreck hosting her first traditional English tea party.

She looked at the kitchen counter laden with several tiered plates displaying the delicacies she'd meticulously prepared. She was ready, and everything looked perfect. 

She'd made four different tea sandwiches to be on the safe side: pear and stilton, cucumber and cream cheese, egg salad, and smoked salmon and dill. And then there were scones, lemon curd tartlets, fruit tarts, and shortbread and Linzer cookies she was looking forward to gorge on. On the other end of the counter were Mrs Fitz's Battenberg cake and Claire's pièce de résistance, Victoria's sponge filled with jam, berries and double cream. Her teabox was neatly packed with Darjeeling, Earl Grey, and Assam, and the pitchers of lavender and elderflower lemonade were cooling nicely in the fridge. 

Perfection!

She was about to wash the sink when she heard a rap on the window. She looked up and saw Jenny waving at her. Letting her in through the kitchen back door, she was surprised to see her carrying a stack of real estate pamphlets and magazines with its pages tabbed with colourful sticky notes.

"Jen! What's all that?"

Jenny shrugged. "Weel, after what happened to ye in London and with everything going on at the moment, I thought I'd make yer life easier." She plonked down her load on a nearby stool and picked up a magazine, leafing through the pages. "I heard from Willie ye and Jamie are looking for a bigger place. So I decided to grab all these. It has listings of every available property for sale in the surrounding area. Ma and I saved the pages we thought ye and Jamie might like."

"Oh, Jen!" Claire gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Jenny waved a hand. "Think nothing of it!"

Feeling emotional, Claire gave Jenny a big hug. "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much." When she finally broke away from their embrace, she noticed deep furrows on Jenny's forehead. "Jen? What's wrong?"

Jenny's usually brilliant blue eyes suddenly looked serious as they landed on the bruising on her cheek. "Does that still hurt?" 

Claire touched her cheek. "Oh, this? No, not at all. It looks worse than it is. Poor Jamie getting all these weird looks when we're out and about. He was even accused by some granny of being an abuser. I can understand why but I had to step in and explain to the old dear."

Jenny wrung her hands and gave her a small smile. "Actually, I -I came early because I wanted to talk with ye. Just us two."

"Oh, do you want a drink first?" Claire offered, jerking a thumb in the direction of the fridge. "I have some lemonade ..."

"No! Please! I need to get this out before anything else."

Claire nodded. "Alright then, I'm all ears."

"I-I want to apologise for ..." Jenny's chin crumpled, seemingly attempting to blink back her tears. " ...for what happened to ye in London."

"Wot? Oh, Jen! Why are you apologising? That wasn't your fault."

Jenny raised a hand, which told Claire to let her talk. "It was in some ways my fault, Claire. Geneva was my friend, and I tried to push Jamie and her together. I shouldn't have told her last year there was a vacancy in the village, and then she wouldn't have come back and pursued her interest in my brother. I honestly had no idea she was capable of such horrid deeds. If I'd known, I wouldn't have taken her into my circle of friends and family."

Claire shook her head. "No one could have known, and no one knew. Even her work colleagues and peers were shocked when they found out what she's done. She's a master manipulator, Jen, and she probably manipulated you too under the guise of friendship."

"Still ..." Jenny insisted. "If it wasn't for my meddling ..."

"Stop right there!" Claire wagged a finger at Jenny. "We've locked horns on the subject before and moved on from that already. Alright? Past is past. We all make mistakes. The most important thing is we learn from it. So no more mention of Geneva."

This time Jenny's smile reached her eyes. "Fine! Just dinnae tell Jamie we talked about this."

"Whyever not?"

"Jamie has given everyone in the family strict orders, not to mention about London today."

"Really?"

Jenny nodded. "He didn't want to ruin today's celebration rehashing what happened. Unfortunately, I had to in order for me to apologise, but enough of that now." She clapped her hands. "So, how about that drink. I'm parched." She whirled around and stopped, her eyes widening when she saw the spread Claire had prepared. Walking over to the kitchen counter, she took in everything with a smile. "Goodness, did ye make all these?"

Claire smiled with pride. "I did. Except for the Battenberg cake. Mrs Fitz made it."

"Ye said, ye didnae know how to bake," Jenny said almost begrudgingly. 

"Now I do, thanks to the wifey Bootcamp I attended, also known as Mrs Fitz's kitchen."

"These all look scrumptious. It's been ages since I had a proper English afternoon tea." Jenny glanced up at her and grinned. "So, what are we celebrating?"

Claire nearly blurted out the baby news, but she quickly caught herself. Sliding an arm around her soon-to-be sister-in-law, she walked Jenny to the end of the counter to show her the sponge cake. "Today, we're celebrating love, friends and family."

Jenny poked a finger into the clotted cream and licked. "I like the sound of that. That'll always be a perfect excuse for a celebration or a proper afternoon tea party."

Claire smiled. "I couldn't agree more, Jen. I couldn't agree more."

..........

Jamie came home from work and noticed all the sandwiches, tarts and cakes laid out on the kitchen counter. He was mildly astonished that Claire had been able to prepare so much in the nick of time. He glanced out the window and spied her and Jenny in the garden, busily arranging tablecloths on the long wooden table. Looking at his watch, he realised he had about fifteen minutes to get ready before their friends and family started arriving. 

But first things first.

Stepping out into the backyard, he snuck behind Claire and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a soft kiss on her neck. "Mmm, ye smell of berries, lemon and lavender," he whispered, running his lips on her bare skin and ignoring Jenny's mumbling about getting a room.

Claire turned in his hold and smiled up at him. "And you reek, mister. You won't be served tea smelling like that."

"Fancy a shower with me then?" he suggested, feeling mischievous. "Jen's here to look out for guests."

"Nice try, but I had a shower already, and Jen is our guest today." 

He leaned down and nibbled her earlobe, making her squeal.

"Jamie, you're going to get my dress dirty. Oh, fiddlesticks ..." She suddenly stilled mid-laughter and made a face, her hand covering her nose. "Urgh ...what's that smell?"

Jamie let her go and took a whiff of his shirt. "Oh, it's just a bit of wood stain I was working with. It'll come off in a wash."

Her face suddenly turned pale. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick. Tell Jen I'll be right back ...and you ...you go have a shower before your parents arrive." With that, she spun around and ran back to the cottage.

Stunned, he watched her disappearing form and whistled under his breath. "What just happened?" he muttered, even though he knew the answer had to do with the dreaded pregnancy sickness. She'd been doing so well so far he almost thought morning sickness was nothing but a myth, even though Claire had revealed, she couldn't stand the smell of aniseed, star anise, fennel, and liquorice.

"Maybe, she's pregnant and suffering from sickness?" Jenny replied, walking past him with an armful of wildflowers to put into the empty vases dotted on the wooden table.

He hadn't realised Jenny had returned from wherever she'd disappeared to. He needed to be careful not to reveal their baby news too soon, or the surprise would be ruined. Jenny was simply someone who couldn't keep a secret. 

"Ach, I should have known chemical smells always make her nauseous," he explained, not wanting to give too much away to his perceptive sister.

Jenny twitched her lips from side to side as she trimmed the bouquet's stems with pruning shears. "Aye, that will be right!" she smirked.

He glared at his sister. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged and gave him a knowing look. "Nothing! Now go have a shower, and I'll take care of things here until Claire feels better."

Jamie was about to say more when he heard the sound of a car parking in the driveway. As Jenny made a move to take a look, he quickly made a beeline back to the cottage before anyone saw him, hoping Claire had already recovered from her bout of sickness.

..........

Jamie leaned back on his chair and glanced around. It was a perfect summer late afternoon, and everyone seemed to be having a great time and enjoying the food Claire had prepared. The sun warmed his face and bathed the garden in dazzling light, making the different shades of green and the profusion of wildflowers more vibrant and alive. The chatter was lively, and funnily enough, no one complained about the lack of alcohol which was highly unusual for a gathering in Scotland. But, he suspected his godfather must have a flask of whisky or something similar tucked away somewhere as he was getting louder and more boisterous as time went by.

He took Claire's hand in his, and she turned his way and smiled. Her face looked pale, but there was an aura of tranquillity radiating from her that told him she was happy and content. Though her plate was full of food, it remained untouched, and if anyone had noticed, no one said anything. "How are ye feeling, Sassenach?"

She took a huge deep breath, held it in for a few seconds and then relaxed. "I'm fine," she sighed. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

He knew she was valiantly fighting back the sickness that must be creating havoc in her body but was too stubborn to give in to it. "Shall we tell them about the surprise so you can finally have a rest?" he suggested in a low voice, so no one would hear. "It cannae be comfortable sitting here when ye feel so unwell."

She shook her head as she gulped in more air. "I want to wait for uncle Lamb. He'll be here soon."

Quentin's plane from Athens should have arrived four hours ago but was delayed because of some mechanical issues. Jamie hoped for Claire's sake Quentin was on his way and wasn't dilly-dallying somewhere, like planning a grand entrance. Jamie kissed her cheek, hoping to sweet talk her to giving up this charade of wellness. "I'm pretty sure ye're uncle will understand once he finds out about yer condition."

"I know," Claire murmured. "But I want today to be perfect and complete. I want to see uncle Lamb's face when we announce it."

"But it's already perfect."

"Not without uncle Lamb."

Jamie prayed for patience and tamped down the urge to haul this beautiful but infuriating woman in his arms and carry her to bed. He squeezed her hand and yielded to her request, knowing this get-together was important to her. "Whatever ye say, Sassenach. Just let me know if ye need anything."

"I will," she replied between sharp intakes of breath.

Jamie decided not to press anymore. He knew this was one battle he couldn't win without creating a scene in front of their friends and family. But if Claire thought she was pulling this act off, Jamie was convinced, his perceptive family had already caught on with what was passing. Claire was a terrible actress, and she couldn't even lie to save her life.

Fortunately, their intimate tea party was animated and loud, and it diverted the attention from Claire. Directly opposite them, Tom and Willie were discussing the merits of owning a mini campervan for spontaneous weekend trips around the Highlands. On one end of the table, Murtagh passionately ranted and raved to Brian and uncle Duncan about the Tories and how SNP was the solution to Scotland's political future. Next to Claire, Annalise showed Ellen and aunt Jocasta how to work the Instagram app while Jenny, Mary and Geillis cackled over some celebrity gossip they've probably read somewhere. Grannie Annie had meanwhile fallen asleep in her seat with Adso in her lap and Rollo at her feet. At the far end of the garden, Finlay, Geillis' boyfriend and Ian were having a go at playing badminton but kept hitting the shuttlecock over the hedge to both their frustration. 

Though Jamie was happy the tea party had gone as planned, he couldn't relax, too worried about Claire predicament. If it got to the stage where Claire lost any more colour to her face, he was sure no one would be able to blame him for whatever course of action he would take next.

"Right, does anyone want some fresh cuppa?" Claire suddenly announced, getting up from her seat.

Annalise immediately jumped to her feet. "I can do that."

Willie got up too. "I'll put the kettle on."

"I'll clear up the empty dishes," Geillis offered, already grabbing an empty tiered plate stand. "We dinnae want this stunning antique piece being knocked over, now do we?"

Ellen reached over to Claire from her seat and patted her hand. "Everything was lovely, dear. I couldnae decide which was my favourite. And that lavender lemonade was refreshing."

"Aye," Murtagh piped in as he got up and sat directly opposite Claire. "I bet it will taste even better with gin or vodka."

Brian frowned at Murtagh. "The lavender lemonade tastes good as it is. There's nae need to spoil it with alcohol. Besides, it's good for ye to give yer poor liver a wee break. If ye're no' careful, yer gene pool will soon have a swim-up bar."

"I dinnae drink that much," Murtagh grumbled. 

"Aye ye do," Aunt Jocasta pointed out. "Dinnae think for one minute I didnae notice ye've been spiking yer tea."

Before Murtagh could retort, Geillis came back in time with a steaming mug and placed it in front of Claire.

"Ooh, what's this?" Claire asked, looking into her drink.

"It's ginger and turmeric tea," Geillis declared. "It's good for ye. I brought it with me from Glasgow. It's organic, and thought ye might like it."

Jamie couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew ginger tea or any form of ginger were effective in reducing nausea. Claire probably knew too because her eyes lit up and gave Geillis an appreciative nod. If he wasn't a hundred per cent certain earlier, everyone knew about Claire's condition, now he's more convinced than ever they were playing along. Jamie appreciated the gesture, but this had gone on too far. Where the bloody hell is Quentin?

"I'm back!" boomed a voice, waking grannie Annie up. It was as if Jamie's thoughts had conjured Claire's uncle from thin air, and there he was making a grand entrance as Jamie had expected. "I hope there are some leftovers. I'm famished."

Claire laughed, twisting around on her seat to watch her uncle approaching. Ellen got up and started plating some food for Quentin.

"There's plenty of leftovers," Annalise assured as she placed another platter of sandwiches on the table. "Claire made enough for the entire village."

Quentin gave Claire a quick kiss on the forehead before greeting the rest of the party, who'd gathered back around the table. "Sorry for the delay," he apologised, finally taking a seat next to Claire. "Our plane was stuck on the tarmac without any air conditioning. We had no choice but to sit there and stew in the heat while the engineers fixed the plane."

"Well, I'm glad you're here now," Claire said, looking adoringly at her uncle. 

Quentin stared at the bruising on her cheek. "I don't like the look of that. It looks ..."

Sounds of several throats clearing ensued, a signal to Quentin not to pursue the London topic any further.

"Very well," Quentin nodded in understanding. "I'm glad too that I'm here."

Claire smiled. "Alrighty, so now that everyone's here, Jamie and I have an announcement to ..."

"Hold that thought, sweetheart," Quentin interrupted as he bent down to retrieve the holdall he'd placed at his feet. "I brought a souvenir."

Jamie bit his tongue at the interruption.  

"I hope it's not another ceramic plate," Claire groaned, unaware of Jamie's frustration.

"No. I got something better." Quentin waggled his bushy eyebrows as he unzipped his bag and proceeded to rummage through its contents. "Wait for it! Wait for it!" Suddenly he yanked out a bottle and held it up for everyone to see. "I got Ouzo!" he announced with satisfaction.

"Yesss, ya beauty!" Murtagh cheered happily, banging a hand on the table. "I love Ouzo."

Aunt Jocasta scowled at Murtagh. "Ye like anything alcoholic. Ye'll drink Listerine if it was placed in front of ye."

"What's Ouzo?" Claire asked as she stared curiously at the offering. "I mean, I've heard of it before, but I've forgotten what it is."

Jamie was about to fill in the information and tell her she wouldn't be able to stand the smell of it when Quentin expertly uncapped the bottle and held it under Claire's nose. Oblivious to Jamie's hitch of breath, Claire pressed her nose closer to the opening of the bottle to take a better whiff. Ah, shite!

"It's an anise flavoured liquor," Quentin described. "Mostly served as an aperitif in Greece.."

Jamie watched in awe as Claire's head jerked back and her face contorted when her senses registered the smell, and a low, gurgling sound came from deep down in her belly. He winced, half expecting any moment now a horrific scene of projectile vomiting, and the recipient would be none other than his godfather sat opposite her. But Claire jumped to her feet, startling everyone, and her hand immediately clapped over her mouth, golden eyes bright and tearing up. Quick thinking Jenny, grabbed a sprig of mint she'd put in the vase, macerated it in her hands and offered it to Claire. Everyone gasped and watched in fascination as Claire took the green leaves and stuffed her mouth with them, and began to chew, jaws working overtime, reminding Jamie of a cow feeding in the fields. Nobody said a word, waiting for the next scene to unfold or for someone to offer an explanation.

Swallowing audibly, Claire finally untensed and slumped back down to a loud hearty burp. And as if nothing had happened, she calmly drank a good measure of her ginger tea, put the mug down and then smiled. "Sorry about that. So where were we again?"

Eyes bulging almost out of his head, Quentin sputtered before he managed to string a coherent sentence together. "W-What the bloody hell was that? Was that some kind of weird side effects from what happened in London that I have no idea of?"

Claire looked at Jamie, looking suddenly exhausted. "Can you please tell them?"

"Tell me what?" Quentin bristled.

Jamie dropped his head on his folded arms resting on the table and allowed it to bounce once. Twice. Thrice. God must have taken pity of him because when he glanced up, everyone shouted in chorus. "Claire and Jamie are having a baby!"

   Dear Readers,

Thank you all for the response and feedback I received for my previous chapter. I know it got a bit crazy; therefore, today's update is more subdued to allow everyone's breathing to go back to normal.  Nevertheless, I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much I've enjoyed writing it for you.

Anyway, I hope you're all keeping safe and taking care of yourself and mostly taking the time to enjoy the last days of summer. Keep up the good vibes and be well. X

[mymelodyheart]

This me when a certain ANON vehemently and repeatedly begged me to turn the angst down a notch. And this is me too when I'm on over five thousand words mark, and I haven't a clue how to end it. And this is me also when my hubby asked when am I publishing the second part of the Wonderwall series. Moreover, this is me earlier when the gardener next door decided to use the blasted blower in the middle of the day while I was writing. So my lovely readers, how's your day going so far?

[mymelodyheart]

    Tea to the English is really a picnic indoors.

 - Alice Walker

[mymelodyheart]

I started reading wonderwall series a few days ago. the first part began with a hallmark feel to it and after finishing the latest update I can't help but think its becoming a mystery/thriller/action. I like the way you write the stories but maybe you should try sticking to one genre?

Hi Anon! The first part of Wonderwall series was intended to be a stand-alone and one-off. My friend suggested that I expand more on the story, which I did.; hence, Miles Between Us and Save The Date came about. How the theme of the plot and each chapter turns out depends on my whim. When I get these ideas, and I happen to like them, I incorporate them into my writing. Now, if this was a paid publish work, more thought on the adherence to the genre would have gone to it. As it is, I write as a hobby. Anyway, thank you for reading and commenting, and I hope you're having a great summer. X

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 10 ~Stramash~

Previously in London Watch

"We haven't been formally introduced yet."

"Oh!" She looked at his hand and then his face. She really needed to go, or Jamie would start to worry. This had gone on for far too long. A quick, no-fuss introduction, and then she would be out of there. She took his hand and smiled. "I'm Claire, Claire Beauchamp. Listen, I have to ..."

"Claire, lovely Claire. I've been waiting for so long to make your acquaintance. Alex talks so highly of you."

She paused, her hand still in his, and suddenly, it dawned on her why he looked so familiar. "Are you related to Alex by any chance?"

"That I am," he said, chuckling as he brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. With a glint in his eyes, he smiled. "Alex is my brother. My name is Jonathan Randall. But you may call me Jack." He let go of her hand and took a step back. "Now that we're no longer strangers, would you like to dance with me?" he asked with a flourished swing of his arm.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  Jamie had been trying to call Taz for the last ten minutes, but every single time he'd attempted, the line had been engaged. The longer he waited, the heavier the sense of apprehension that had settled in the pit of his gut became. He tried not to let anxiety get the better of him, but he knew something was up. Taz hadn't sent that text demanding to call immediately for nothing. 

 He strayed over to the far corner of the foyer and tapped Taz's number once more, and this time, his call was immediately answered.

"I got your text. What's up? Anything new?" Jamie asked rapidly before holding his breath.

"Jamie? Hang on a sec. I have a few pieces of info coming in that would be of interest to ye."

By the time Taz came back on the line, Jamie's patience had almost exhausted, and it resonated in the strain in his voice. "There's someone new in Mary's invitation list. Is that what this is about?"

"Yes. The link is with yer main suspect."

Jamie restlessly paced back and forth like a caged animal. "Alex Randall. I figured that out. Is Alex involved?" In as much he didn't like the bastard, he hoped Alex wasn't involved.

"No. We've tapped his phone. Just dinnae mention it to him because it's illegal. Where is yer fianceé? Is she safe?"

"Yes, she's safe. She's in a roomful of people sat with a group of friends. A trusted mate is with her."

"Good." Taz dragged in a sharp intake of air. "Now, listen very carefully. Alex Randall's original plus one was scrapped off the invite list and replaced with his older brother's name. It's supposed to be Frank Randall, a university professor. I managed to get CCTV footage of all attendees and ..."

"You said it's supposed to be Frank Randall," Jamie interrupted, his internal processing data working in overdrive. "Who came with Alex then?"

Taz cleared his throat. "Let me finish. Frank Randall has a twin, and his name is Jonathon, also known as Jack, among his closest. According to copies of records coming in, Jonathon is locked up in Broadmoor. That's..."

"...the high-security psychiatric hospital in Crowthorne, "Jamie finished for Taz. 

"The very one. Now listen up," Taz hedged. "This is where it gets sticky. Alex's mother has been over to Frank's apartment earlier to drop off some food using a spare key entrusted to her. She's been worried about Frank not returning her calls and thought he wasn't taking care of himself. Apparently, the mother and Alex haven't seen Frank for months. Listening to our phone monitoring device, we found out Alex reached out and invited Frank to come as his plus one, and they were supposed to meet at the party. According to my source, Frank has arrived and is there somewhere at the Hawkins' party. He arrived not too long ago. The problem now is that the mother discovered something that made her think the wrong brother was incarcerated in the psychiatric hospital, and Jack is walking around using Frank's identity. Frank's apartment walls are plastered with Claire's photos, paintings and printed out pictures from Alex's social media account. The whole place is in disarray, and according to the mother, only Jack painted in the family."

"Alright, back up for a minute." Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to piece together the information overload. "So what ye're trying to tell me is we're dealing with an evil twin, is that right?"

"Aye. That is correct."

"So it's no' Frank who's really here, it's... what's his name again?"

"We assume it's, Jack and it's looking more that way as more intel are pouring in."

"Alright, carry on."

"To cut a long story short, the mother immediately alerted the police after she's discovered more stuff that led her to confirm her suspicions, like emails from the dean revealing Frank's absences from work."

"Jesus! Mistakingly incarcerating the wrong brother ... that's a bloody schoolboy error. Surely fingerprints ..."

"Jamie, never mind that. We've contacted Broadmoor, and they truly believe they have Jack ensconced behind secured doors, but I know otherwise. Now, this is what you are dealing with. There's a dangerous psychopath and a pathological liar in yer midst, and he's after Claire. He probably knows her from reading Alex's not-so-private social media account. How he managed to put his brother in Broadmoor is another day's story. This Jack is cunning and very impulsive. Dinnae be fooled by his looks. He's not all there, and he's off his rocker. I've alerted the police too and given them a low-down on most of everything I got, and Alex has been made aware by his mother."

Jamie looked up in time to see a group of police wearing tactical kits filling the foyer. "What the fuck, Taz? Specialist firearms officers? Really?"

"I might have neglected to tell ye that Jonathon Jack Randall is a former Royal Marine officer. He was second in command in Royal Marines 30 Commando, and his last deployment was in Helmand province. So there's a danger Jack might be armed and wouldn't hesitate using it. Mind too, he's also proficient with hand to hand combat."

Jamie rubbed a hand on his face. "Christ!"

"One of the officers arriving is my brother-in-law. His name is Jordie. I already told him to get hold of ye. Now go and find yer lass."

"Fuck!" Jamie turned off his phone as he rushed towards the venue entrance, but the crowd had thickened with more guests arriving and some police hovering at the door. He hoped this Jack hadn't found Claire because he wasn't too sure what he was capable of at this moment and if she was hurt ...

"Jamie!"

Jamie's head snapped to the right, and he saw Alex shoving bodies out of the way and walking towards him. 

"Where the bloody hell have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you? Claire's in ..."

"I've already been informed about yer brother," Jamie cut him off impatiently, tugging his elbow. "And ye're coming with me to fix this. Ye ken another way into the hall?"

Alex snatched back his arm and glared at Jamie. "I do. But watch yourself, Fraser. I'm not the bad guy here. I'm here to help, so be nice."

Jamie's hands curled into tight fists as a fresh dose of anger rose within him, making him wish he had a target to vent, preferably Alex's gob. He leaned over to him and snarled right into his face, not caring if he was Claire's friend. "The fact that ye're still standing on yer feet means I've been nice so far. I've no' time to observe social niceties with ye, ye fancy baws. If ye cannae stand the heat, get the fuck out of my face."

Alex's pupils widened in surprise as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Don't know what Claire sees in you, but point taken, mate." He spun on his feet before Jamie could say another word. "Follow me ...this way."

..........

Jack's unexpected tight grip on her fingers startled Claire, causing her to tear her gaze away from the squad of policemen entering the room and tip her head back to look at him. The way he held her as they swayed to the music suddenly made her uncomfortable, and when a hand riding just above her waist pulled her even closer than it was appropriate, a hitch of breath escaped her lips before she could stop it.

He looked at her questioningly. "Anything wrong?"

She bit her lower lip, casting a glance once more over at the entrance, where policemen were beginning to split up and move in different directions. She attempted a smile to disguise her concern. She wished she could spot Jamie and wondered where he was and what the police were doing here. It was hard to tell with all the bodies moving, coming and going.

"Police officers have just entered the room," she replied.

Jack spun her around and glanced over at the entrance. When he brought her back against him, his face hardly registered any surprise. "Maybe they were called in because of some public disorderly conduct. You know, typical London weekend scene."

She frowned. "But they're not your normal police from the streets." She paused as she caught a glimpse of one officer leaning over the bar, talking to the bartender. "They're all carrying guns. They're from the tactical unit."

He let out an impatient snort. "SFOs are more prevalent nowadays than you think," he contended, his fingers digging painfully into her back. "If the news is anything to go by, there have been loads of threats from terrorists' attacks recently." 

"In Fitzrovia? This is hardly a place for a terrorist attack. Don't you think the threat would be more likely to be centred around Westminster? 

He looked down at her and frowned. "Just relax. I'm sure the law enforcement have it all handled."

Claire did relax as soon as she saw a police officer purposely heading in their direction. Maybe they'd all be told to disperse the floor, and it was probably a good thing too since Jack's odd demeanour was beginning to unnerve her as she was finding it harder to believe he was Alex's brother. Either way, this was her way out, and hopefully, she'd get to Jamie before he noticed she'd wandered off.

When the police stopped about a foot away from them and locked eyes with her, the next few seconds suddenly became a blur. One second, Jack was dancing with her, and the next, yanked away, almost knocking her off-balance. It all progressed so quickly, Claire barely had time to grasp what was happening.

"You are under arrest on suspicion of personating for purposes of bail and Section 136 of the Mental Health Act. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which ..."

Suddenly, in one swift movement, Jack tugged his arm free with extraordinary speed and force and grabbed the gun holstered to the police's thigh. Someone screamed, but Claire could only stand there frozen on the spot and wait for the scene to unfold. In that instant, the music ended, the crowd around them stopped dancing, and everything was suspended. Unexpectedly, the police lurched forward with a growl, seemingly with no thought for his own safety. But Jack expertly flipped the gun in his hand and pointed it straight at the man, who immediately halted mid-action, raising both hands in the air.

Another law enforcer stepped out from nowhere, drawing his gun, but Jack's hand shot out and grabbed Claire's arm, hauling her in front of him and pressing the cold metal of the gun's barrel against her neck. Ice formed in her veins, and a silent scream caught in her throat. She realised then, Jack was a man who knew what he was doing. A man who'd handled a gun before and had anticipated every move. He was cornered in a roomful of people and dozens of armed police, and she was his only bargaining chip. If she made a move, he wouldn't hesitate to shoot her. Why is he doing this? He'd seen the police earlier and yet hadn't made any attempt to escape. He could have slipped away unnoticed, hiding in the shadows of the semi-darkened room, and everyone would have been none the wiser. Unless ...

That's when it occurred to her, making the hair on her body stand. Jack had been her stalker these last months. How could she had not realised this? Claire recalled the signed note and almost let out a groan. Love J. She'd been complacent after she'd confided in Jamie, revelling in the news of her pregnancy and unwittingly letting her guard down. 

She fought the rising panic as she watched the second police put the gun down and placed both hands behind his head, and the crowd slowly backed away. She hadn't anticipated this. Hadn't formulated a plan of what she would do when faced with the man who'd spawned fears and nightmares over the past few months. Her only modus operandi had been to be on guard.

Behind her, Jack's breath was even and warm against her ear. "Don't try to do anything funny," he whispered as he started to walk them backwards, pulling her with him in the direction of the back of the room. Despite the oppressive dread she was feeling, she knew better than to struggle, afraid she might startle him to do something unexpected. As they reversed through a door, her eyes frantically scanned the room and just before she was dragged further in, she saw Jamie watching with horror on his face. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying and hoping the demons she'd slain inside his head hadn't roared back to life.

...........

Jamie continued to stare at the closed door where the mad man had pulled Claire in. His sense of awareness narrowed down to her, and their unborn child as his surroundings became warped and people's voices distorted. He tried to breathe, but the air jammed into a knot in his throat. 

What the fuck just happened? 

He'd prepared for all eventualities except Claire being taken captive by a certified madman. Now, his meticulously outlined plan was blowing up in his face. His worst nightmare had come true, but this time, he knew there was no waking up from it, and the stakes were much higher. When Claire had confided about her supposed secret admirer, he'd done all the right things and taken the matter seriously. He'd arranged for her safety. He had intel with the most sophisticated means, SFO officers were swarming the place, and he'd had training with UK's elite force that should have made it straightforward to protect Claire and catch a lone male. So how the fuck did it all go wrong? 

Harsh lights suddenly illuminated the room, and the sound of sirens became more pronounced, snapping the present back into focus. He needed to pull himself together, or he could lose Claire and their baby. Inwardly shaking himself, he erected a wall around his emotions and centred himself. He couldn't just stand there and do nothing. He'd been trained in counter-terrorism, hostage rescue, and covert reconnaissance, and all those years of hard work had prepared him for situations like this even though he was now a civilian. He had to do something and act fast.

He spun in a circle in the middle of the floor and examined the almost empty room. Tom and Mary were giving their statements to the police and Alex speaking to another officer. 

Jamie was about to go over to Tom and Mary when he made eye contact with one of the uniformed men approaching him. "James Fraser?"

"Aye?"

"I'm Jordie, Taz's brother-in-law. OIC." He tossed Jamie a bulletproof vest. "22nd SAS regiment, I heard?"

"Ye're no' supposed to say that out loud," Jamie pointed out as he jerkily put on the vest. "It wasn't that long ago I took part in a secret mission."

"Right, right. Sorry, I forgot you lot are a secretive bunch." Jordie handed him a balaclava. "Here, wear this too before the press sees you. Taz said you would probably want to take part in the operation. We don't have an official clearance for you to join in this rescue. But we don't have time for that. As far as the rest of the team is concerned, you're from the plainclothes division. CID."

Jamie looked around before pulling down the mask over his head. Most of the crowd had been ushered out, and no one was paying attention to them. "So, what's the plan?"

"You're the Elite's force hostage rescue expert. You tell me what you have in mind."

"Right. Brief me with the visuals. I already know we're dealing with a male with a handgun."

"All exits and entrances, including lifts, are sealed. We have a blueprint of the floor. The room where the hostage was taken is a dry goods storage area with one small window with bars. Upon entry, at twelve hundred, a swing door leads to the staff's canteen. At nine hundred is the kitchen. The kitchen is being evacuated as we speak, and five SFO are posted on the other kitchen's entrance. Unfortunately, I can't give you any firearms. That's above my jurisdiction. I'm already putting my neck out on the chopping block by letting you in. But I can give you this." Jordie subtly slid him a Fairbairn–Sykes double-edged knife, and Jamie slipped it at the back of his jeans without question. "Taz said, you've been in a far worse situation, so this should be a walk in the park for you. But just to put your mind at ease, we've assigned a marksman."

Jamie let out a humourless laugh. "Marksman? Waste of bloody time. We're no' only dealing with a calculated mad man, but he's a former Royal marine. He already knows all yer moves and has most probably covered the window, scant might it be."

"Fuck! Why was I not told this? The only brief I got was a man familiar with firearms." Jordie ran an impatient hand through his hair before composing himself. "So, what else do you need?"

"I want everyone to hold their position but keep their distance. By distance, I mean keep your men scarce. We're dealing with a highly intelligent, dangerous and mentally unstable man. I want everyone clear that the perpetrator cannot, under any circumstances, feel threatened, or we'd be risking the life of ..." Jamie swallowed hard but kept his emotions in check. "...my fianceé and our baby. Keep Alex Randall nearby. We'll probably need him. If ye can get hold of the mother, even better."

"What's the MOE?"

"As I already said, the perpetrator knows already your next course of action. That's what happens when ye bloody lot follow everything by the textbook. But what he willnae anticipate is me. So I'm going in alone."

"No fucking way!" Jordie hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "I can't let a civilian go in there alone and risk their neck."

"Yes, way, and I'm no' ordinary civilian, and ye ken that. Look, there's no time for discussing the insufficiencies of my decision." Jamie pulled out his phone from his pocket and handed it to Jordie. "Keep that for me. Dinnae want the perp seeing my phone's network" He fixed his bulletproof vest, patting it in places, trying his best to hide his impatience. He was itching to get moving, but he couldn't show any weakness or emotions even though fury permeated his veins at the thought of his woman scared. This was his last card to play to get his hands on the man who'd inspired fear in Claire. He took a deep fortifying breath to ease the growing frustration. "Just make sure ambulance vehicles are on standby, and no press gets hold of the rescuer's identity. No' even my fianceé's colleagues. If anything happens to me, your first priority is to keep my fianceé alive and safe."

Jordie eyed Jamie warily and hesitated. It was apparent there were more than caution tape unfurling in his head, most probably weighing all the consequences of any decision he was about to make. Jamie knew the officer was having second thoughts, and no one could blame the man. Too many things were at stake, and any wrong judgement could land a lot of people in hot water. An unknown length of time passed before Jordie resignedly let out a heavy sigh. "Make it swift, Fraser and may God be with you."

Keeping his face impassive, Jamie gave Jordie a haphazard Royal Air Force salute. "Lima Charlie, mate."

..........

Jack whirled Claire around and grabbed her jaws, his other hand caressing her cheek with the gun barrel. She braced herself so she wouldn't recoil. "I'm in a lousy position right now, and I'm mighty pissed off about it. I can't help but wonder how the police knew where to find me. Care to enlighten me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Claire replied through clenched teeth.

He glanced up at the ceiling as if appealing for patience to some unseen force. "Oh, I very much doubt that, my beauty. You cannot undervalue your importance when someone went through all the trouble for all this fanfare." He studied her face for a lengthy time. "Let's see ...what type of person would have been able to foresee my actions tonight and launch firearms police force, no less, to gatecrash this party?" He rolled his lower lip in, in reflection. "Whoever did this for you, I'm very impressed with their resourcefulness. Do you think they'll barge in here if I made you scream?"

Claire somehow tamped down the dread threatening to overwhelm her. "I'm surprised as you are when I saw the police arrived. I swear to God, I had no idea they were coming for you. I didn't even know you were Alex's brother until you told me." It's true she was as astounded as Jack, and she would have never dreamed in her lifetime that her safety would warrant armed response units. Only one person could have set such action in motion, and that was Jamie. But no way she was going to reveal that.

Jack laughed as if enchanted with her. "I truly like you. Sharp, quick wit. You're someone who speaks their mind even if it shook. A fiery spirit indeed. I think I'm going to enjoy breaking you."

She twisted from his hold and managed to take a step back. "You don't want to do anything you'll regret later, Jack, because you'll never be able to get away with it. You can end this now before it's too late. I'll tell the police there was no harm done."

He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned that she took another step backwards, his eyes lasciviously raking her body. "I'd rather take my chances. I can't help but think spending some time with you might prove highly interesting. And very pleasurable." His hand reached out to cup her breast. "Now, if only you would cooperate ..."

Disgusted, she smacked his hand away and spat on his shiny black shoe. "Never in your life, you revolting pig."

All evidence of humour dissolved from his eyes. His right hand holding the gun reared back and struck Claire across the face with such remarkable force, she toppled backwards. She felt the prick of a cut on her lips from where his knuckles had connected with her face. 

She edged backwards, got on her feet and tried to run. She managed only a couple of steps before Jack wrapped a strong arm around her waist and shoved her against the shelves packed with service paraphernalia. Claire gasped as her back met the metal shelving unit, and pain shot along her spine. It was a fruitless endeavour trying to run in her high-heels. She'd only end up spraining her ankle or, worse, breaking her neck. 

Without warning, he grabbed the top of her hair, tugging her head back until tears formed in her eyes. He pushed her down on a wooden chair so violently she nearly fell off. He aimed the gun at her face and shook his head at her. "Try that once more, and I promise you, you'll never see daylight again," he said calmly, taking out his phone from his pocket with his free hand and dialling a number. "Now sit nice. There's someone I would like you to meet."

She squeezed her eyes shut as a new sort of fear settled in her belly. She hoped the person Jack was calling wasn't Jamie. She wouldn't be able to bear the horror nor panic in his voice. It was bad enough she felt tremendous guilt for bringing this situation upon herself and their unborn baby.

"Hello, darling!" she heard Jack say in casual greeting. "Want to see what I have for you?"

"What the hell, Jack?" replied an agitated familiar female voice on the phone speaker. "You shouldn't be calling me on this phone. Do you wish to be locked up again after jumping through hoops to get you free?"

Claire's eyes immediately flew wide open. She knew that voice. Where have I heard that voice before? Southeast England, accent, probably Cockney?

Jack's laugh was almost indulgent. "And here I thought you'd be pleased." He turned the phone screen in Claire's direction. "Say hello, Claire."

She focused her eyes to get a good look at who was speaking. Instantly recognising who it was, a shiver snaked down her back. They'd only met once and very briefly, but it was enough for Claire to identify the woman on the screen. It was Jamie's former psychotherapist. "G-Geneva? Oh, my God." She swallowed her alarm back and schooled her features. "What's the meaning of this?"

Geneva's eyes widened, and for a moment, panic and regret flashed in her eyes before they quickly switched to an icy cold glare. The corner of her lips curled, baring her teeth. "The meaning of this is exactly what it says on the tin," she snapped. "You're fucking screwed."

Claire was at a loss for words. "B-but why? What have I ever done to you?"

Geneva's eyes narrowed at her. "Why?" she scoffed. "You know why, bitch. You took what belonged to me. You should have never come back to Broch Mordha. Now you and Jamie will know what it feels like to have their heart torn into tiny pieces."

Claire's heart felt like it was going to implode as she strived to understand what was happening. "Did Alex set you up for this?"

Geneva let out an almost maniacal laugh. "Oh, Alex have no idea and never will. You see, it's not that difficult to find out what you've been up to. Your social media account may not reveal much about your life, bar those stupid cat and dog photos you seem to like posting, but your friends love to overshare. Let's see ...in a year, you managed to steal my man, get yourself engaged, live the life that should have been mine, and now you're about to publish your book while I'm stuck in Broadmoor working with loonies in a psychiatric ward."

"Hey!" Jack interjected. "Who are you calling a loon?"

Geneva ignored him. "When Jack here was sentenced for psychiatric evaluation for an indefinite period in Broadmoor, and I was assigned to work with him, I realised what a small world we live in when I found out his brother was none other than your editor, Alex. You see, Jack proved invaluable because not only is he ingenious, but he'd been obsessing about you ever since pictures of you started popping up in Alex's circle of friends' social media accounts. I noticed Jack would paint you for hours in his solitary confinement, probably daydreaming in the process what he would do if he ever gets his hands on you. So imagine my delight when I found out Jack have a twin brother, Frank, who occasionally came to visit. I knew Jack wanted out, and I wanted my revenge. So we devised a plan to switch Frank in Jack's place, and in return, Jack gets to have you."

"You evil witch!" she gasped. "What have you done to Frank?"

Geneva sneered. "Oh, don't worry about Frank. He's away with the fairies and high as a kite with a cocktail of drugs administered to him. No one will ever know I did the switch. If ever though, the unfortunate circumstances will be put down to administrative error, and if Frank talks, it will be taken as a rambling of a mad man off his nuts."

"Alex would eventually visit, and he would be able to tell that it's Frank you're holding in confinement. If anyone's screwed, it's you."

Geneva's harsh laugh cut Claire off. "You think I haven't thought of that? Come on! Give me some credit. I deal with the brightest minds in my line of work, even if some intellect borders insanity. The difference between me and society is that I'm not judgemental and respect the inner workings of a brain, even of those who'd been diagnosed as having personality disorders. I've picked up a trick or two overtime while having those loonies eat out of the palm of my hand. It's amazing what you can discover if you delve deep into people's psychological disorder and use it to your advantage."

Claire's stomach lurched. She felt like throwing up. She gripped the sides of the chair until her hands hurt, hoping the pain would take her mind off the queasiness. She was dealing with two sick individuals devoid of emotions and knew the moment she showed weakness, they would feed off her fear. Now was not the time to break down. She needed to be clever to survive this. And if she's going to get killed, she wasn't going down without a fight.

Though it hurt her lips where Jack had struck her, Claire forced a smile and stared at Geneva. "Dr Geneva Dunsany," she said loud and clear. "You think you're so bloody clever and above the law with all your degrees, academic rank and your ability to manipulate. But you see, you were so smug and eager to rub my face on shit, you failed to ask Jack Randall here the predicament he's in right now. Here's a piece of advice. The first rule to getting away with crime, you don't go shooting your mouth off without making sure you're a hundred per cent in the clear. Are you even aware that I'm being held captive in a room surrounded by armed police? I bet not. And guess what? There's probably some fancy listening device monitoring our conversation as we speak. And having said that, the police are probably on their way to pay you a visit. What do you think of that, you nasty piece of work? Still, feeling clever?"

Geneva screeched. "Jack! What the fuck is she talking about?"

Jack snatched the phone away before Claire could say something more. "She's just dramatic, darling. I have everything under control, so calm the fuck down."

"Your life is over, Geneva!" Claire taunted, shouting to be heard.

"Get rid of her! Now!" Geneva ordered sharply. "The bitch knows I'm involved. We cannot risk anyone finding out what we've done. If you don't, you'll be back here in Broadmoor, and my life is over."

"Oh, but I'm not done with her yet," Jack reasoned coolly. "I have this wonderful plan ..."

"Listen to me, you freak," Geneva screamed. "If what's she saying is true about the police, you're dead meat. Her fiancé was a patient of mine, and he's a former SAS soldier. I bet it was him who'd orchestrated the police."

"What?" Jack's head snapped in Claire's direction. "Is that true?"

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Her blood turned from cold to boiling at Geneva's reference of Jamie. She might not have a clue what to do next, but she couldn't allow these evil sorts to harm him. If she did nothing, it would be all over. The spectre of what would transpire would hang over Jamie's head like a ghost, and he would never be the same again. She had to do something. She had armed police outside. If only ...

Her eyes urgently scanned the nearby shelf and landed on an iron griddle pan. Looking at its size, she knew it would be heavy, but there weren't any other options for weapons, and she only had a small window of opportunity.

"What are you doing still standing there?" Geneva shrieked. "Kill her now!"

It's now or never. Claire jolted into action and dived for the handle of the griddle. Using all the strength she could muster, she swung the heavy iron and threw it in Jack's direction, praying it would hit her target. When his gun clattered onto the floor, her survival instinct roared to life as she descended on the weapon and grabbed the grip. 

Jack shot forward to seize it from her, but she dug her high heels into his groin, extracting a vicious obscenity from his mouth and propelling her on her back at the loss of leverage.

She quickly scampered to her feet, shakily pointing the gun at him. She couldn't deny the satisfaction Jack's roar of pain gave her as he clutched his genitals. For the first time, she allowed tears to fall. 

"Get the fuck up, you fucking wanker!" she shouted at the man who'd made her helpless these past months. "I said get the fuck up!"

Gradually Jack rose to his feet, slowly lifting his hands in the air and keeping his eyes on the gun. "Now there, my lovely. You don't want to hurt yourself with that," he cooed, taking a cautious step forward.

"Don't move, you piece of shit or I'll blow your cock off."

Jack stopped, and his head swivelled to the left as the door to the adjacent room opened. 

"Sassenach!"

Claire didn't take her eyes off Jack. "Stay out of this, Jamie. This is my fight!" she sobbed without looking at Jamie. "I'm going to do the world a huge fucking favour and get rid of this bellend."

"Wait! No! Sassenach, please, listen to me. It's over. Ye're safe now. Hand me the gun."

Three uniformed men walked in behind Jamie, but she kept her gun trained at Jack. She heard Jamie saying, "I got this," to one of the officers, but she took no notice.

She angrily wiped the tears from her face with one hand and shook her head. "Oh no! The world is not safe with people like him. A prison cell is too good for him. He has to go."

"What are you waiting for?" Jack jeered. "Pull the trigger, and we can be roomies at Broadmoor." 

"Shut up! Jack!" Jamie shot before refocusing his attention back to her. "Sassenach, please, dinnae listen to him. Listen to me ... don't do this. He is not worth your anger. It is not your job to get rid of him. It is mine, so don't take that away from me."

She continued to stare at Jack. He looked like a statue frozen in his evil ways. She had the upper hand, and yet his smirk said, "you'll never prevail." It was almost enough to make her believe it. But not quite. She tightened her hold on the gun as she felt a wave of all-consuming anger rising. 

"Sassenach, look at me. Dinnae do this to yersel'. I know what it feels like to take another life. I've been there and done that. Dinnae give in to the darkness. Hand me the gun, and I'll take care of him for ye."

"I'm sorry, Jamie, but he threatened to kill me. And you know what that means? That means he threatened to kill our baby too. Where would that have left you if he managed to do just that, huh? Back to square one? He can't treat a human being the way he treated me, terrorising me like a hunted animal and expect no consequences. It's my responsibility to make the world a safer place for our baby." She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and cocked the gun. This was it. She had the power to eradicate one less evil in their midst, and once she pulled the trigger, there'd be no more wondering when he'd show up to threaten her. Or her family.

She steeled herself as she raised the gun, aiming for the spot between Jack's eyes. Never again, you filthy son of a whore! Suddenly Jamie stepped in front of her as the police sprang forward and knocked Jack onto the floor. Her hands began to shake as Jamie slowly reached out to take the gun from her.

"It's alright, mo chridhe, I'm here now," Jamie hushed. "Ye're safe, and no one's harming our baby."

She burst into uncontrollable tears. Gasping for breath, her arms finally went slack as she was crushed against Jamie's chest in a fierce embrace. Somehow, just being held by him healed her of all the shock and horror she'd endured. It was as if he was absorbing her trauma into his own body, calming and cleansing her of all the negative feelings she'd felt for Geneva and Jack. She took huge gulps of breaths as she greedily inhaled his scent, knowing her emotions were all over the place. She'd stifled her fear to deal with the precarious situation, but now that the threat was gone, she didn't feel tethered to reality. If it weren't for Jamie, she felt like she might drift away.

Jamie pulled back to look at her face and tipped her chin up to survey the cut on her lips. "He did this?"

She could only nod as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jamie turned the gun in his hand and marched towards the door, shouting at the police ushering Jack out to wait. Before Claire could scream for him to stop, he brought his forehead down on Jack's nose in a head butt before handing the weapon to a nearby officer. The sound of cartilage crunching echoed in the tiny room, making Claire wince. Jack fell onto his knees with a loud thud, holding his bleeding nose, shouting improprieties muffled by his hands.

"Now, that was uncalled for, Fraser," an officer clucked, but his grin and the amusement in his eyes implied he wasn't too bothered over Jack's injury. "Now go and get some rest. I'll handle the paperwork and delay the statement for tomorrow morning. You both have done enough to save the day."

Nodding, Jamie returned to Claire's side and scooped her effortlessly into his arms. She automatically curled against his hard chest as someone placed a blanket over their heads, and Jamie carried her out of the room. An officer led them through a backdoor and into a waiting police vehicle. Once in the car, Jamie pulled Claire into his lap and buried his face into her neck, not letting go until they arrived safely at their hotel.

  Dear Readers,

I'm going to make this short since I'm ready for bed and need to get up early. I really pushed to publish this today because I have loads of things going on this weekend. I must admit it was a bit of a struggle since I don't have betas, and my head is ready to fall off my neck, but hey, it's up and done, and I hope you've enjoyed this (kind of) action pack chapter. But before I sign off, thank you all for your feedback from the previous instalment, and I'm looking forward to all your comments when I wake up tomorrow. For now, be well and safe, my friends. X

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 9 ~London Watch~

Previously in Three Hearts ...

Jamie woke up to find Claire still fast asleep, and her arm draped across his middle. The trip, their long discussion and lovemaking must have worn her out. He knew he'd pushed too hard to get her to talk, but it was the only way to get as much information about the stalker as he could from his stubborn woman. It might have amounted to nothing but the fact that she'd open up about her fears was a huge step. 

Careful not to rouse Claire, he slid out of bed, put on some clothes and made his way to the living area. He had a plan that required to be set in motion before he made dinner, and Claire woke up. As a former soldier for SAS, he'd been trained to always anticipate an attack. This might not be in the war zone and the stalker, just some harmless man who had a crush on Claire, but this was one encounter he wanted to be prepared for. With their trip to London coming soon, he had to do something.

Grabbing his suitcase, he pulled out his laptop and set to work. 

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 Jamie inspected the turnout gathering around the foyer and wished he and Claire were somewhere else a little bit less crowded, having their own intimate dinner. Mary Hawkins' book release announcement and after-party were supposed to be the turning point in Claire's as well as Tom's writing career. He knew the bigwigs of the literary and entertainment world teemed the venue, and Claire and Tom were there to be seen to help endorse their soon to be released books and put Dreamcatcher Publishing company once more into the spotlight.

He handed the cloakroom attendant Claire's shawl and guided her through the crowd. Placing a possessive hand on the small of her back, he leaned down and brushed his lips against her ear. "You followed John's advice way too literally, Sassenach," he whispered. "When he said ye needed to be seen, he didnae mean ye have to catch every bloke's attention in the room in that dress."

Her rouged lips broke into a wide smile as her hand smoothed over her tummy, a subconscious act she'd been doing a lot ever since she'd found out she was pregnant. The simple red off the shoulder pencil dress that went down past her knees would have been understated and modest if the soft material didn't showcase every curve of her body to perfection, revealing just the right amount of cleavage enough to tantalise. Her feet were encased in delicate strappy four-inch heels making her legs look a mile long, and her hair fastened high on her head, with wisps of tendrils spilling around her ears and caressing the back of her neck. Her creamy skin glowed against the fabric of the dress, and her eyes shone with anticipation.

She turned to face him and glanced up to meet his gaze. "I wore this dress for you," she said, letting out a soft exhalation of breath. 

"Did ye now? For a moment there, I wasnae so sure," he teased.

"I can't allow you to have wandering eyes." Her hands coasted over his chest and rested on his shoulders. "And as for you, my love, you don't even need to try. You always look dashing in whatever you choose to wear."

Jamie looked down at his own attire. He'd opted to wear a black dress shirt underneath his blazer and dark jeans for the occasion, forgoing to adhere to formal wear protocol of suits and ties. "Not too shabby for ye?"

She shook her head as she appraised him. "Not at all. In fact, you look ruggedly handsome. Kind of sexy when you break the rules. It suits you and no pun intended."

He couldn't help but grin. "Handsome, eh? Didnae think ye'd noticed with all the menfolk here all primped up, smelling like they'd bathed in cologne and strutting around like peacocks.

"Oh, I definitely noticed." She smiled. "And so did a lot of lassies."

He kept his gaze on her, not interested in finding out whether she was stroking his ego or not. "Ye ken well, I only have eyes for ye."

"And so do I." She hooked her arm to his and patted his forearm. "So shall we then?"

Jamie led Claire through the gilded double doors that opened into a massive open space and instantly noticed Claire's friends, former work colleagues, and John Grey assembled in a group. Wanting to dodge the bedlam of greetings, introductions and small talks for as long as possible, he steered Claire towards the bar, where he ordered her a virgin mojito and a single malt for himself. 

A five-piece band played a lively tempo in the background, enticing guests to fill the dancefloor as waiters in their elegant black and white uniform enthusiastically served Champagne, canapés and hors d'oeuvres. As he scanned the room, he was momentarily blinded by the ostentatious display of men in their designer suits and women in an array of shimmering silks and satins. Everyone seemed perfectly done up, from their sun-kissed skin, refined dialogue to their artificial smile.

Jamie realised a handful of celebrities and TV network moguls were in attendance, and some were rubbing elbows with Mary Hawkins. He wasn't surprised. After all, she'd had several bestselling novels under her belt and had a massive worldwide following. He wondered how many production companies had approached her to discuss making her books into a movie or TV series. Apparently, Mary had been offered several attractive propositions in the past, but she was careful to settle. She'd heard far too many accounts of books making it into movies or TV series and ambitious screenwriters deviating from the author's storyline. Though Mary understood changes were necessary for film adaptations, she didn't want her work ripped apart just for the sake of ratings. If her books were going to be made into a film, it had to be mainly on her own terms.

He watched Claire as she sipped her nonalcoholic cocktail and surveyed the room with wide eyes. So far, she seemed at ease and didn't seem perturbed, probably too awestruck with all the hype going on around her. He ought to relax too and enjoy their evening. He'd done what he needed to do, albeit over the top, and Claire was safe. 

Before they'd left Broch Mordha, Jamie had enlisted the help of his former SAS comrade, turned private investigator, Taran MacQuarrie, also known as Taz. Taz was based in London and had strong affiliations to Scotland Yard and MI6, making him the best option for the job. So when Jamie had received the report of the background check on all employees of Dreamcatcher and the guests invited to Mary's book press release after-party, he'd been relieved to find out everyone had come up clean, including his main suspect, Alex Randall.

But why did it felt wrong to be here? They might be in a roomful of polished people, but it didn't mean there weren't any characters with unsavoury intentions in their midst. Once again, Jamie dispelled his dark thoughts and tried to relax.

"Ye ken we dinnae have to stay long if it all gets too much." 

Claire glanced at him looking surprised, her glass suspended halfway to her lips. "We just got here." Her expression suddenly turned worried. "Are you alright?"

He hurried to explain. "Oh, aye, of course. It's just that, aah ..." He did his best to look composed as more guests arrived. "I was just thinking about your condition and the baby."

Her face spread into a slow smile as she put her drink down at the bar counter. "Aww, look at you ...having a midwife crisis."

Jamie shoved his hands in his pockets. "Very funny. So ...when are we telling our family and friends about our baby?"

"Well, since I'm not showing yet, and if you don't mind, I want to keep this for ourselves a little bit longer." She lit up when something caught Claire's attention over his shoulder. "I'm fairly certain Mary wouldn't want me stealing her thunder tonight, even if your intention is only to let everyone know I'm yours. Especially Alex. And speaking of the devil, he is coming our way, and I would appreciate it a lot if you could be nicer to him."

Biting his tongue, Jamie turned to see Alex Randall heading in their direction. Automatically, he slid a protective arm around Claire's bare shoulders and stiffly nodded in acknowledgement.

"Jamie!" Alex greeted, playfully letting out a low whistle of approval at the sight of Claire. Alex Randall had been an editor at Dreamcatcher long before Claire joined the publishing company and was well-liked by his peers for his laid back manner and over the top chipper disposition. Too bad Claire liked the smug-looking bastard too.

"Alex," Jamie responded.

"Aah, the epitome of Lady in Red." Alex took Claire's hand and twirled her around before giving her a kiss on both cheeks. "Look what you've done. I now have that mental soundtrack playing in my head. I have a very bad feeling it won't stop unless we dance to it later. So what do you think? Want to help out this poor chap when you have a moment? That's, of course, if Jamie wouldn't mind."

Claire let out a hearty belly laugh. Though it wasn't one of those measured smiles or soft giggles he'd often seen in women flirting, he didn't know whether to be bothered by her delight at Alex's smooth line or captured by her open beauty. One thing for sure, he didn't like it one bit that Alex had made her laugh.

"Very slick, Alex. Very slick, indeed," she gasped, wiping a tear at the corner of her eye. 

Jamie couldn't help but scowl, but Alex just chuckled, a flash of mischief crossing his face. "Just wanted to grab the opportunity to hang out with the most beautiful woman in the room while I still can. Reading the looks you're getting, I have a feeling every bloke present here would love the chance to dance with you. I thought I'd join the queue while I still can."

Claire made an unladylike snort. "Typical smooth operator reasoning."

Alex grinned but stopped when he saw Jamie's expression. "And I'm also reading Jamie's look as not too please by the attention you're getting."

If Jamie hadn't known for a fact that Alex was seeing someone from a piece of information he'd retrieved from Taz, he wouldn't have tolerated the editor's blatant flirting with his fianceé.

Jamie's hand slid around Claire's waist once more and brought her back against his side as Alex watched the gesture with barely hidden amusement. Jamie tamped down the urge to throttle Alex and kept his face neutral. "So, are ye here on yer own? Or do ye have a plus one ye're no' being attentive to?" Jamie asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Ah, yes, I had a date. But alas!" Alex dramatically clutched his chest before winking at Claire. "She had to postpone last minute because of some work-related emergency, so I had no choice but to bring a mardy plus one to accompany me."

"Oh!" Claire's face pulled into a disappointed look. "That's a shame, Alex. I would have loved to meet her. So who did you bring with you instead?"

Alex's phone rang, and his hand immediately shot to the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He gave Claire an apologetic look. "Got to take this. See you around?"

"Of course." Claire motioned for him to go. "We'll catch up later."

Alex nodded to Jamie and directed a smile to Claire. "Yeah, catch up later," he echoed, squeezing her arm before disappearing into the crowd.

"See what I meant about yer editor being handsy?"

Claire sighed and turned to face him, a mixture of amusement and disapproval carving out her features. He bet she wished Alex's date had made an appearance if only to prove a point. But that wouldn't have mattered. The stalker could be in their vicinity, and every man who looked at Claire with even the slightest interest made them a suspect in Jamie's mind. He wondered who Alex had brought with him as he made a mental note to find out this one detail he hadn't accounted for.

She squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the present. "Alex didn't mean anything by it, Jamie. He's sweet to all the women in the office, and he's a natural-born flirt. He is what he is. He's probably using the same line he used on me on another girl as we speak."

He frowned at her casual explanation. "I doubt it," was all he could say as another group made their way to the bar, making him more vigilant, if not on edge. It looked like every debonair erudite had come tonight, and every one of them knew Claire by name. But his jealousy was secondary to Claire's safety, even if it was a spinning ball of spikes rattling around in his stomach. He shielded Claire with his body as more people jostled to get her and the bartenders' attention. When his phone buzzed in his breast pocket, he subtly snuck it out to read the screen and found there's a text message from Taz.

Ah, shite!

Jamie looked around and was relieved to see Tom heading their way. 

"Who was that on the phone?" Claire asked as Jamie motioned for Tom to hurry over.

He glanced down at her upturned face. He didn't have the presence of mind to make up some excuse. He had to call Taz and find out if there was something important he needed to know. Inwardly flinching, he lied through his teeth. "It's work-related, I think. I have to make a call just to check, and I need ye to stay put. Tom is on his way."

Her lips curved into a smile. "I'll be here."

Tom slapped Jamie on the back when he finally reached them. "There ye both are. Mary was looking for ye ..."

Jamie steered Tom and cleared his throat. "Listen, pal," he said in a low voice, not wanting Claire to hear. "I have an important phone call to make. Can ye please keep an eye on, Claire? I shan't take long."

Tom cast a worried look between Jamie and Claire. "Everything alright?"

Jamie waved a hand in dismissal, hating how he felt about leaving Claire in a roomful of people he didn't know. "Aye, aye. I just dinnae want her on her own ...ye ken, with the stalker and all that."

Tom nodded his understanding. "Nae bother. I'll take her over to our seats." He pointed at where Mary was sat, next to John Grey. "It's table number five, near the stage."

"Got it!" Satisfied Claire was in good hands, Jamie gave her a quick kiss before leaving her side, hoping Taz's message wasn't any form of bad news.

...........

Bored with the political chatter, Claire's eyes roamed and landed on what looked like a gallery in the other end of the room. Curiosity piqued, she leaned over to Tom, who was sat next to her and placed a hand on his arm to get his attention. 

Tom smiled. "Ye need a drink?"

She shook her head and pointed in the direction of the gallery. "I'm just going to stroll over there. I think there are some paintings on display."

Tom's brows furrowed as he shifted in his seat. "I think ye should wait for Jamie. He's really worried about ye wondering about, especially with the stalker at large. He'll be here any minute."

She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. "I appreciate all the fuss, but look, you have a good view of the adjacent room, and it's not that far ... twenty-five yards, give or take?"

Tom pursed his lips. "I'll go with ye."

"No!" Claire finished her drink and dabbed her lips with a napkin. "I'm not among strangers. I know most of the people here. Besides, Mary's glass looks like it needs topping up. It's her evening, so fuss over her."

Resignation tinged his voice. "I cannae stop ye, can I? I swear to God, I'm gonnae get the brunt of this when Jamie comes back, and he finds ye've wandered off."

Claire laughed out loud. "Don't be so dramatic. You can't lose me with my red dress. I stick out like a sore thumb in a sea of blacks. I'll be easy to spot." She quickly excused herself from the table before Tom could stop her and stood up. 

Humming under her breath to the strains of Elton John's "Can You Feel The Love Tonight," she made her way through the maze of tables, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement at familiar faces. Her steps carried her past the dancefloor and straight into the brightly lit room filled with contemporary paintings and modern sculptures. Claire held her breath as she itched to take a closer look and examine the stories behind each artwork.

Her attention immediately latched onto the abstract interpretation of the famous skyline on the River Thames, titled The London Eye by Night. She smiled as she admired the earthy texture and harmonious colours the artist used, evoking memories from her time in London and of her mother's love of painting.

"Ah, maybe I should turn into a painting to get your attention."

She whirled around. A man sauntered in, his eyes filled with a mixture of something dark and playful humour. His chocolate brown hair was long and neatly tied back in a low ponytail, giving him the look of a rockstar who beguiled women to be part of his groupies. He was clean-shaven with thin lips and a nose that dominated his angular features. Dressed in all black and well-buffed leather shoes, he presented a smooth, confident air just by standing, appearing much younger than his cultured voice. Though he looked familiar, Claire couldn't place him in any of her circles or associates.

"Are you an artist?" She turned her back and renewed her examination of the painting, tipping her head to the side. "I don't mean to stereotype, but I've always envisioned male painters having long hair."

The heels of his shoes clicked against the floor as he moved. He stopped a few feet away from her to look at the Canary Wharf canvas. "Yes, I'm an artist. As for my hair, I grew it out of rebellion. My father thought long hair was unbecoming." 

"Still?"

"No. Nowadays, I forget it's growing. Over the years, it's grown on me, and I'm used to it."

She smiled to herself. "Are any of these here in exhibition yours?" 

"No," he replied. "My work is, let's say ...too vulgar for the mass' tastes."

"Pornographic?"

"Pornographic is a paltry word to describe my work. I paint people's darkest sexual fantasies ...particular fetishes that border the lines of risks, consent and reason."

An awkward silence settled as Claire tried to discern if he was teasing or not. 

She glanced over his way and saw a hint of madness gleamed in his dark eyes, but she put it down to the eccentricity that most creative artists have. She sensed he was the type of person who liked to shock people and have fun with their reactions. Laughter bubbled to her lips as she turned to face him.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You don't believe me?"

She shook her head, still laughing. "I do believe you, but I have a feeling you are making fun of me."

He bowed his head theatrically and placed a hand on his chest. "Ah, you wound me and my fragile heart."

"And you played with my delicate sensibilities," she teased.

"I suppose you're right, and I apologise."

"Nothing to apologise. I was teasing as well."

His face broke into a smile that could only be described as bordering deranged. 

He cleared his throat. "Actually, you'd be the perfect muse for my work ..." Stroking his jaw, he looked her up and down, openly scrutinising her. "The colour blood red suits you, you know that. It shows off your porcelain skin to perfection. I can think of countless ways how I would paint you in that dress."

Claire tried not to be offended, rationalising he was only studying her with a keen artist's eyes. "This dress would hardly inspire a fetish art masterpiece."

A slow smile curled his lips. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. Ever heard of autoerotic asphyxiation?"

A disturbing image flashed through Claire's mind. "Something akin to depriving someone or yourself of oxygen?"

"Actually, it's the practice of sexual self-stimulation while causing oneself to experience asphyxia. For some, it heightens the sexual experience. There are many methods to induce this, for example, strangulation, neck or chest compression, suffocation, or inhaling chemicals." He cocked his head as if in contemplation. "If you would allow me, I'd paint you in that dress, your hands cuffed above head, your lipstick smeared, and your face covered in cellophane."

She let out a high-pitch nervous laugh. "I'm not quite sure whether to be flattered or not, but I don't think my fiancé would be too thrilled with the idea of me modelling a sexual fantasy."

He feigned disheartenment. "Ah, you're engaged! That's a pity."

She raised her hand to show off her engagement ring, ignoring the unease settling in her stomach as he stepped closer to take a closer look. "I thought you already noticed," she pointed out, annoyed at herself when her voice squeaked, making her confidence for her safety waver a bit.

"Perhaps. To be perfectly honest, I pay no heed to such things. Nowadays, women put them on to deter attention." He leaned in ever so slightly, and she caught a whiff of his expensive perfume, making her mildly nauseous. 

She took stock of her surrounding. They were alone in the gallery room, and she could see Mary's party in full swing through the doorless entrance and wondered if Jamie was back yet. She forced a smile as she looked past his shoulder, her thoughts distracting her a second too long. She wasn't prepared when he stuck a hand out in front of her, almost making her jump.

"We haven't been formally introduced yet."

"Oh!" She looked at his hand and then his face. She really needed to go, or Jamie would start to worry. This had gone on for far too long. A quick, no-fuss introduction, and then she would be out of there. She took his hand and smiled. "I'm Claire, Claire Beauchamp. Listen, I have to ..."

"Claire, lovely Claire. I've been waiting for so long to make your acquaintance. Alex talks so highly of you."

She paused, her hand still in his, and suddenly, it dawned on her why he looked so familiar. "Are you related to Alex by any chance?"

"That I am," he said, chuckling as he brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. With a glint in his eyes, he smiled. "Alex is my brother. My name is Jonathan Randall. But you may call me Jack." He let go of her hand and took a step back. "Now that we're no longer strangers, would you like to dance with me?" he asked with a flourished swing of his arm.

A wave of relief washed over her. Jack was no longer a stranger. Though he was an odd character, this was Alex's brother. A quick whirl on the dancefloor was harmless, and they'd be surrounded by her friends and acquaintances.

Grateful for the chance to finally escape the gallery, Claire didn't dwell on the aftermath of Jamie finding out she'd wandered off. Nodding, she took Jack's hand once more and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor, where several bodies danced to a love ballad. Finding an open space, he pulled her into his arms as her eyes landed on the main entrance, and she wondered why several police officers were walking in and scouring the room.

  Dear Readers,

I was supposed to publish my update yesterday but got stuck with the ending. So I took a whole day off from writing, and I'm glad I did because it has definitely done wonders. The moment I sat back in front of my computer, my writing started to flow again despite the bloody blower making a racket outside.

Well, after that palaver with the writer's block, I hope you're pleased to finally make Alex and Jack Randall's acquaintance. It only took about nine chapters before I was able to bring them up. I thought they'd come up sooner.

Anyway, they're here now and would love to hear what you thought of the latest instalment. Thank you all for reading and your feedback, as always, and I'm looking forward to your comments. Take care, and hope you're all having an enjoyable, safe, healthy summer. X