Never would Ronan Matheson allow Kyla to remain beyond his touch, not for another day. Over eight-hundred years in the future, he sat inside Tavish Matheson’s medical rooms on the second floor of Ivanson Castle, the doctor a fellow kinsman he now considered a good friend. With the finishing touches almost complete to his face, he awaited the final transformation in his disguise.
The day before one of the lasses at the keep had trimmed his shoulder length hair to within a spiky inch from his scalp. She’d slapped on a thick black paste, let it sit for a while then told him to wash it out. He’d bent over a basin of flowing water, rinsed his hair then when he’d lifted his head and caught his reflection in one of the massive looking glasses of this time, his golden locks were gone. Midnight-black hair reigned. Miraculous.
This morn he’d even shaved his thick beard away, one he’d had for a good number of years, since the day it had first grown in at six and ten. He stroked over his jaw, the unusual smoothness of his shaven skin grating on him. “’Tis like I’m a lad again, Tavish.”
“You’ll get used to being without the beard, and it might pay for you not to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror just yet, particularly if you’re having trouble adjusting to the changes. I’ve been able to knock a good decade off by removing every single wrinkle you had.” Tavish set his instruments down on the tray and pushed back on his padded stool with its wheels that rolled across the white tiled flooring.
Everything in Tavish’s medical room was white, from the white-sheeted bed he sat on in the center of the room to the white painted walls, cupboard doors, and curtaining. The stainless steel benchtop was all that broke the clean color apart, and what an incredible benchtop it was. So finely crafted, and within those cupboards, well, Tavish had brought out so many new and astounding things that had aided him in his full healing this past month. Truly incredible.
This twenty-first century and all he’d discovered within it had both surprised and enthralled him. Although a recent trip into the village in one of their fast-moving wagons had near halted his heart from beating. An SUV Tavish had called it. Fully enclosed, the wagon of steel had sent them careening along a road of black tar with fierce speed. When he’d pressed a button and the window of sheer glass had rolled down, he’d half heaved over the side to find out where it had gone. Tavish had chuckled and hauled him back in.
Aye, if he could survive a journey in one of those speedy conveyances, he could certainly survive the change to his appearance. He nodded at his clansman. “I’d like to see what you’ve done. Make certain all is well.”
“As you wish.” Tavish pulled off his gloves, riffled through a drawer and pulled out a compact, flipped the cover open and exposed a looking glass tucked safely away inside. “I can’t imagine anyone who met you at Carron Castle during your captivity will ever be able to identify you now. You’ve healed well this past month, your injuries all but gone, even the whip marks on your back.”
“Och, hell.” He almost dropped the compact. His lips looked as if bees had stung them, repeatedly, an enticing look on a lass for sure, but not on a hardened warrior. Every wrinkle he’d had around his eyes and forehead had vanished. It had taken him years to gather those marks of age. Gaping, he muttered, “What have you done, Tavish?”
“I’ve used Botox where needed. What it does is weakens the facial muscles so the wrinkles disappear, although it’s temporary, the effects lasting about three to four months. I’ve also added some filler to your lips, and a touch to your cheekbones as well.”
“Oh my.” Annella walked in, her mouth wide open. “Is that you, Ronan?”
“Aye, scamp.”
“You look”—she arched a brow as she wandered around him—“different. Very different.”
“Will Duncan MacKenzie or his warriors see the real me through this disguise?” His younger sister would tell him the truth. She always had.
“Even I hardly recognize the real you.” She stopped in front of him, cupped his cheeks and gently ran her fingers back and forth along his jaw. “Your skin is as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I had no idea you could look so very handsome. No more beard for you.”