Prescribed for Love Read online

  Prescribed

  for Love

  A time travel romance

  by

  Mallory Moutinho

  Copyright 2012 Mallory Moutinho

  Cover Design by Kalen O’Donnell

  kalenodonnell.com

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and events used are either the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual living or dead persons, places, or occurrences is simply coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my mom, who decided the cable bill was just not worth paying, but who always had dozens (if not hundreds) of books strewn about the house.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Boston, May 11th, 2012

  “Congrats Cat! I’m so proud of you,” exclaimed Keith, while wrapping his sister in a big bear hug.

  “Thanks Keith, that means a lot—especially coming from you,” said Catriona while returning his embrace. She was a bit taken aback by her older brother’s open praise.

  Stepping back, Keith added teasingly, “Just think, it only took you six years to earn your first degree!”

  “Ha ha, very funny!” responded Cat, along with a good punch in the arm. Keith’s latter statement was much more representative of his normal behavior. “Well, it may have taken me six years to get a degree,” she countered, “But at least I’ll be doing more than playing with building blocks.”

  In actuality, both of the Dunn siblings were incredibly intelligent individuals. While Keith now worked as a structural engineer, Cat had just earned her Doctor of Pharmacy, or PharmD. The two were only separated in age by eighteen months, so they often teased each other mercilessly. They loved each other dearly, but more often than not, the sentiment was displayed through sarcasm.

  Catriona often wondered if their tough-love approach had been a result of their upbringing. The two had been raised by their aunt for as long as they could remember. The woman had never had the time to show any love or affection; she only ever seemed to have time for a swift kick or reprimand. To be fair, their aunt had been a single mother of three when a drunk driver had killed both her brother and sister-in-law. The added burden of two children had been a great stressor which had required her to take two additional part-time jobs. As Keith and Cat had aged, they had quickly become aware of the strain they caused their guardian. This cognizance had made them increasingly dependent on one another, both emotionally and financially. Keith had moved out the day he was eighteen, and then had helped Cat follow suit eighteen months later. The two had been each other’s entire family ever since.

  “Smile!” yelled Keith, interrupting Cat’s reflections with a series of quick, candid shots.

  “Keith, stop!” There was a brief pause, quickly followed by another flash of the camera. “Seriously! You know how much I hate pictures! I always look ridiculous,” Cat complained.

  “That’s not true. See, look at this one I took earlier; you look very nice here,” replied Keith as he scrolled through the camera.

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Cat yanked the camera out of her brother’s grasp. After performing her own appraisal, she raised one eyebrow and said, “Well, that is a very nice picture—but that’s not me.”

  “It’s not?” Surprised, Keith took the camera back to confirm his mistake. “No, I guess not,” muttered Keith as he took a second look. “Huh, she’s kinda cute.”

  “KEITH!”

  “What?” Seeing the expression on his sister’s face he apologized, “Oh, sorry.” Resuming his search through the pictures, Keith scrunched his eyebrows in focus, “There’s got to be at least one decent picture of you in here.” After searching for a few moments, he let out a loud guffaw, “Oh my god Cat, you gotta see this one! It’s wicked bad.”

  Cat looked over her brother’s shoulder and gasped in horror. The image before her displayed Catriona shaking the dean’s hand as she accepted her diploma. Her cap was lopsided, and she had an idiotic grin on her face. Somehow, she had even managed to have one eye more closed than the other. Add to these faults an overall constipated look and voilà—the perfect storm of terrible photos.

  “You’d better delete that!” shrieked Cat.

  “No way! This is going on Facebook. It’s priceless!”

  “So help me god, if you don’t delete that photo, I will post the picture of you passed-out wearing my blue dress!” threatened Cat. Keith’s twenty-first birthday had been one of his more memorable ones.

  Keith’s face actually began to show a little fear, “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Just try me,” threatened Cat with an evil grin.

  One hour (and one photo) later, Cat let herself into her apartment, or more accurately, her old apartment. She was excited to be moving into one outside of the city. Keith was to meet her here shortly so they could fill the bed of his truck with the first load of boxes. Checking her mailbox, she found a few bills and a large parcel. Huh, it isn’t even wrapped and the lid is askew. Some asshole probably opened it to see if it was worth stealing. This was only one of many reasons she was leaving this neighborhood. Curious to see what kind of item would be deemed unworthy of even a pawnshop, Cat immediately sat at her table to discover its contents—she did not even take the time to put down her purse. Inside the box she found a book similar in size to her nine-point-six-pound Pharmacotherapeutics textbook. However, this book did not appear to be anywhere near as up-to-date. In fact, it looked positively ancient! The cover had no title, but was decorated with surprisingly delicate Celtic scrollwork. Now Cat understood why the package had not been stolen—there was not exactly a great demand for books in this part of town. Her interest further piqued, Cat turned to a random page; the yellowed sheet contained a beautiful, yet extremely accurate, illustrated flower. Written above the picture was a brief description stating, ‘Foxglove: Useful for fluttering heartbeat or failure of the heart.’ She actually recognized the name. But the last time she checked, digoxin came in tablet or liquid form. Cat would certainly not be making the medication out of plants in the foreseeable future. Skimming further through the book, Cat learned she could supposedly use nettles to help women lactate, and yarrow for ailments ranging from hair loss to blood loss. Who on earth would have sent me this? I have absolutely no use for this. I don’t even believe in this herbal stuff.

  Cat’s puzzled thoughts were interrupted when she heard Keith park his truck outside. Crap! I haven’t even taken off my cap and gown. In her rush to get up and change, she knocked her mystery gift on the floor. When she bent to pick up the book, she reached further under the table than she realized. Cat sat back up too quickly and whacked her head against the underside of the table. She blacked out almost instantly.

>   ***

  Keith knocked on his sister’s door, but let himself in when Cat failed to answer. He reasoned she must have been delayed by the train— her particular branch of the green line never seemed to run on time. Looking around the unit, he saw Cat had managed to pack almost all of her belongings. Rather than waste time waiting for her, he started to load the truck.

  Once Keith finished filling the back, he tried calling Cat’s cell; he hung up upon hearing her voicemail. He really did not want to wait around for her—he wanted to beat the worst of the traffic. After a brief mental debate, Keith decided he could come back for Cat after rush hour. By that time, she may have even managed to finish packing. He grabbed one more box to put in the passenger seat. Sheesh, what’s in this thing? Bricks? Looking in the box, Keith saw all of his sister’s romance novels—or lady-porn, as he liked to call them. No real man expressed his emotions the way all these Fabios did. Keith had tried to argue this point with her once, but Cat had just called him an ‘emotionally-challenged dimwit incapable of relating to anything with an intellect beyond the scope of a rock.’ He then had asked is she was PMSing. Keith was still surprised he had lived through that evening.

  Making a mental note to give Cat a hard time about the books later, he carried the box into the hall and then retrieved his keys from his back pocket. As he locked the door behind him, it never even occurred to Keith that he had not needed to use a key when he first entered.

  ***

  Scotland, Duart Castle, 1412

  “Ach lassie, how are ye feeling?” asked Alasdair MacLean.

  “I am well enough,” replied his sister. He smiled sadly upon hearing her answer. Ailsa was ten years his junior, so Alasdair had always been protective of her well-being. But, just as he always tried to save her from any harm, she always tried to save him from any grief. Her reply belittling her current illness was a perfect demonstration.

  Over the past months, Alasdair had watched in dismay as his sister had grown increasingly ill. While life had not been easy since becoming laird, nothing weighed as heavily on his shoulders as watching his sister waste away. Helpless to do anything himself, Alasdair had sent for every healer within the area, but none had wrought any improvement.

  Having grown desperate, Alasdair had recently begun to take more notice of rumors among his clan. The gossip told of a witch living almost as a hermit in a hut about a half day’s ride from here. She was reported to have preternatural knowledge of the magical realm, but Alasdair had always dismissed these murmurings as nonsense. However, looking at the gaunt figure of his once robust sister, he decided it was time to take a chance.

  “Where are ye going?” asked Ailsa at his abrupt departure.

  “To see the witch.”

  ***

  Chapter 2

  Catriona opened her eyes, confused by her terrible headache. As she tried to clear the blurriness from her vision, she remembered hitting her head. Ugh, I hope Keith didn’t see that—he’ll tease me ruthlessly. Now able to focus, Cat began to scan the room to ensure her brother had not been witness to her clumsiness. However, her perusal only resulted in further confusion. Where in the hell am I? Looking around, she found herself inside an incredibly rustic hut. The building seemed to contain only the one room she currently occupied. Sure, her studio apartment had not been very spacious, but this was absurd! Everything looked to be handmade, but not in that ‘shabby-chic’ way that had been so recently popular. This place is practically medieval!

  She was prevented from further inspection when the hut’s only door swung open without warning. Catriona was completely transfixed by the appearance of an incredibly large man within the doorway. The herculean figure before her was not only well-built, but gorgeous to boot! He had a chiseled jaw and blue eyes in which a woman could drown if she gazed too long. While Cat normally preferred short hair on a man, his long, sandy-blonde hair just begged to be touched. She had to fight the urge to lick her lips as her inspection continued to the opening of his linen shirt. My goodness! The man has chesticles! Letting her eyes drift even further, she was surprised to see the man was wearing a kilt and all the appropriate accoutrements.

  Laughing to herself as she observed the man’s large sword (and the double entendre it suggested) Cat came to a conclusion. There was only one reason why a man so perfectly molded and dressed as he would be before her—she was dreaming. I must have hit my head harder than I thought!

  ***

  Since the witch was taking the time to so thoroughly inspect him, Alasdair returned the favor. He had expected a woman with her purported knowledge to be an old crone. Instead, a woman barely older than his sister sat before him. Granted, she could be using her magic to keep her visage so young.

  As the witch rose from her chair, Alasdair observed she was incredibly petite; her head would barely reach his shoulder if she were to stand next to him. Her face had a pleasant heart shape, framed with brunette locks. But, that was where the normalcy ended.

  Alasdair frowned as he took note of her attire. She was wearing one of the strangest caps he had ever seen. The dark object fit tightly on her head, but was then topped with a flat square resting on her crown; there was even an odd tassel hanging from the center. Her gown matched the ridiculous bonnet in its oddness. The garment was also black, but unlike the cap, did not conform to her body. At first, he thought its purpose must be modesty, but upon seeing an indecent amount of her shapely calves, he dismissed the notion.

  The witch’s attire worried Alasdair; he sincerely hoped the woman was not as deranged as her appearance. Lifting his head to meet her eyes, he was somewhat reassured by the keen intellect revealed within their dark depths. Determined to explore every possibility to help his sister, no matter how unlikely it may seem, he asked, “Will ye come with me? I have need of yer skills.”

  “Well, I, um,” murmured the witch, “Yes.”

  “Gather what ye need and meet me outside.”

  ***

  Cat’s first instinct had been to deny the man’s request, but then she remembered this entire scenario was just a very vivid dream. And in your dreams, if a hot, sexy, hunk of man-flesh asks you to go with him—you go—no questions asked. Quickly glancing over the various items within the hut, she wondered what she would need. She considered going out to ask the man what kind of help he required, but then thought better of it. Realistically, she would have no idea what to do with any of the items anyway.

  Cat gave the hut one last once-over to ensure she had not missed anything. She was glad she did when her eye was caught by an object on the table—it was the book she had been reading before this whole fantasy started. She snickered to herself. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have to make some nettle tea to help some poor woman lactate! Since this was the only item with which Cat had any familiarity, she picked it up and started to walk toward the door, but paused when she felt something hit her side. Nice! I even have my purse with me! Sadly, it made perfect sense she had her purse with her, even in a dream; she never left home without it. Cat always made sure she only carried the ‘absolute necessities’ in her purse. So, of course, the bright red bag was the size of a small suitcase and weighed a ton. Feeling content she could now handle anything, Cat added the book to her purse’s contents and went to meet the man outside.

  As soon as Cat came within arm’s length, he helped her onto his horse, and then mounted behind her. Without any further explanation, they began their adventure. Determined to enjoy the dream, Cat took the time to observe her surroundings as they followed a lightly used dirt path. She was awestruck by the harsh beauty of the land. She had been living in the city for so long Cat had almost forgotten how wonderful the outdoors could be. When a faint breeze blew by, she was taken aback by the wonderfully fresh aroma. Never before had Cat had such a detailed dream.

  The two continued their ride in silence as the path began to widen and grow more traveled. Still content to soak in the beauty of the scenery, Cat reclined against the man’s chest, falling i
nto an almost meditative state. But, her peaceful repose was not to last. Cat began to fidget as nature began its call. Seriously? I’m relaxing in the arms of the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and I’m dreaming about have to pee—there is something severely wrong with me! Unable to ignore the urge any longer she asked, “Can we stop for a few minutes?”

  The man nodded in consent. As soon as the horse came to a halt, Cat leapt off the mount and headed for the nearest copse of trees. I hope we don’t have too much further to ride—short dresses do not mix well with horses. The last thing I need is a dream about chafed thighs!

  ***

  Alasdair chuckled as he watched the witch run off. She was in such a hurry she did not even notice when a low-hanging branch tore off her bonnet. Personally, he hoped she forgot its existence. Her appearance grew far less absurd, and much more appealing, without it.

  Still a few more hours from his home, Alasdair led his horse over to a nearby stream. Deciding to also partake in refreshment, he reached into his pouch for a couple of oatcakes. As he took his first bite, the witch emerged from the trees and stumbled toward his location. Alasdair really could not understand why she wore such ridiculous attire. He had not noticed before that her shoes had odd points on the back. Maybe this helped with her short stature, but her gait was made difficult as the slippers sunk into the ground with each step. He wondered how she had managed to run without falling after she had first dismounted.

  Once again seeing her exposed legs, Alasdair could not help but think of the rest of the body hid by her gown. After having the witch nestled into his person for so many hours, he had become acutely aware of her equally well-shaped figure. It was almost as if her form had been contrived by magic to induce a man’s desire. Alasdair could not recall the last time a woman had raised such an immediate hunger in him.

  As the witch finished her approach, Alasdair saw hunger reflected in the witch’s eyes, but hers was of an entirely different kind. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts and offered her the second oatcake—the actual object of her hunger.