A Highland Home A Contemporary Highland Romance Book Two (14 page)

“Do ye want rid of me? I know I’ve antagonized ye today.” His eyes locked on hers, and she could see the lingering lines of anger on his face. But there was more-though what, she didn’t know.

Their day and interactions with each other had been less than ideal, but she shook her head no. “I know you mean well, Angus.” Closing the distance between them, she slipped her arms around his waist.

He let out a weary sigh and held her close, his cheek pressed against her head as she melted against him. “I swear, love, I can’t think straight around ye. Ye leave me dizzy and yearning for ye.”

She knew what he meant. Though she kept telling herself she wasn’t interested in anything serious, he was the only thing she could think of as of late, and she couldn’t ask for a more caring or considerate guy. He was nothing like the man Stephen turned out to be, and she knew she could trust Angus to always have her back. She could count on him-and that wasn’t something she’d been able to say about many in her life.

With her heart racing, she realized she’d come to a conclusion. “I don’t think I want to take things slow, Angus-or casual.”

Chapter Twelve

“Are ye sure, love? I can wait ‘til ye’re ready.” Angus swore every muscle in his body was tense with anticipation as he waited for her answer. He didn’t want to rush her into anything, but his heart was aching for her and he wanted her something fierce.

“My mind’s made up.” She looked up at him with those green eyes and didn’t look away, the fire in them one of determination. “I want to give this a shot. Like you said, there’s no point in putting my life on hold-and if you’re going to catch flack for seeing me, then we may as well do this right.”

“Rowan…” By the gods, he didn’t think he’d be able to hold back much longer. “Are ye sure this is what ye want?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I’ve fallen for you, Angus. Hard.” She playfully poked him in the chest. “So you better not go breaking my heart.”

“Never.” Except that he now felt horrible about keeping things from her.

Worse still was that their visit with Imogen left him bothered. The woman had lied to them. Of that he had no doubt. But he had no clue why. Was she like his mother, trying to keep Rowan from finding her father to protect her? Or was it something else?

“Angus… what is it? You look distracted. I hope you’re not already regretting this.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she looked away, her smile fading.

Bloody hell, he was a fool. Pushing away any and all thoughts of guilt, he brushed her cheek to get her to look back at him and focused on her alone. Her bright red curls, the porcelain skin and playful freckles, the flecks of gold in her green eyes. “Maybe I need to prove to ye just how happy a man ye’ve made.”

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, to set a pace that wouldn’t scare the poor lass, but with his heart thundering away, and her body pressed against his, there was no hope for it. His fingers tangled in her hair, as her scent filled his head and urged him on, his lips finding hers. With instinct pushing all logical thought from his mind, he devoured her, one kiss after another, as he fisted her hair and pulled her head back so he could move from her lips to the taut length of her pearly neck.

His hand ran over her curves and down to her hips, pulling her close. Little noises escaped her lips as her body melted into his, spurring him on. Without another thought, he had her off her feet and was carrying her to his bedroom, his mouth finding hers once more.

“Dinner…” It was a breathless word spoken against his lips.

“Aye, love.” His words were mumbled against her skin and in between kisses. “I’m damn hungry, but dinner just won’t do.”

***

Angus glanced over his shoulder to watch her pad across the kitchen towards him, wearing nothing more than the shirt he’d discarded earlier that evening. He’d happily take her again-except that she made him promise to feed her.

She slipped her arms around his waist from behind while he stood by the stove, her hands and cheek hot against his skin. “I think I might start painting the gallery tomorrow. Want to join me? I promise to make it up to you afterwards.” She kissed his naked back, and then kissed it again, sending a shiver of need down his spine.

“I wish I could help ye out, love. Ye know there’s nothing I’d like more, but I’ve got patients and a few errands to run.” Like going to see Imogen-not that he could tell Rowan of his plans. Especially now that they were officially a couple, he had to try to find out why Iona didn’t want Rowan looking for her father, and if Imogen was lying, he needed to know why. He needed to know if Rowan’s father was indeed dangerous-he needed to keep her from harm.

“I could come with you, if you like. You know how useful I am around big farm animals.” 

He put the spatula down and turned to face her, holding her close and giving her a quick kiss. “You should get started on the gallery, love. I can swing by and give ye a hand when I’m done.”

As if realizing that he was keeping something from her and being less than honest, her eyes clouded over and she looked away. “I appreciate the help, but I’ve already eaten up a lot of your time. Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage.”

Now he’d gone and done it. He wanted to groan, his chest tight with the weight of his guilt. He’d never been any good at lying, and now she was misinterpreting it for disinterest.

“Och, love, ye know I’d spend every moment with ye, waking or otherwise, if it were possible. Now, let me get ye yer dinner before I burn it, and decide I’d rather find more productive ways of spending our evening.”

***

With Rowan’s loose curls flaming around her face as she slept and the memories of their night together fresh on his mind, Angus had been loath to leave come morning. He’d much rather stay in bed with her tucked by his side so he could take his time waking her in a most thorough manner. Instead he was hours away, getting ready to confront someone about their lies, and grill them on a decades-old event no one wanted to speak of.

“Mr. Macleod?” Imogen looked around for Rowan, and then stepped back. “Come in.”

“Please, Angus is fine. I’m sorry to bother ye yet again, but I really need to speak to ye.” Angus followed her into the sitting room and took a seat across from her so he could make sure to catch any signs that she may be lying. “It’s about Rowan’s father. Ye must pardon me for saying so, but I believe ye were less than honest with us the other day. I’d like to know why.”

She cocked her head back and her eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon.”

“I’ll admit, I’m a horrible liar myself. But I think it’s the reason why I’m so good at catching others at it. And truth is, I’m not here to necessarily find Rowan’s father, but what I do need to know is why Rowan’s mother refused to tell her-even on her deathbed-who her father is.”

“And how am I supposed to know? I think you should go.” She got to her feet, but he just sat back, stretched out his legs, and locked his eyes with hers.

“Tell me why no one will speak of the man-why no one has a name.” Angus saw her eyes flick to the corner, and he knew there was more to it. “So ye do know. Ye know who he is.”

“Get out!” Her cheeks turned a mottled red, her jaw clenched.

Angus stood and squared off with her. “Who is he?” He glanced in the direction her gaze had strayed, but couldn’t linger long enough to investigate the fireplace mantel with its candles, pictures and porcelain figures. “Tell me. Please. She won’t let it rest until she knows who he is.”

“Get out, or I’m calling the police.” Imogen pointed to the door, her hand shaking.

“Aye, I’m going. But if ye think she’s going to stop looking, ye’re mistaken. I’m begging ye to reconsider. She deserves to know.” Angus headed for the door. “Ye’ve got our number should ye change yer mind.”

Angus left, now sure the woman knew more than she was saying. He pounded the steering wheel. What the hell was everyone hiding? What were they scared of?

He needed more information, and he hated to admit it, but there was only one person he knew who might be able to help. Conall.

It was amazing what one was willing to do for love-and he was hopelessly and truly head over heels. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself when they had barely been dating, but after last night, there was no denying how he felt about Rowan. He loved her-and he’d do whatever it took to see her happy and whole.

He spent the long drive back to Dunmuir and Conall’s place mulling over the growing mystery. He knew his mother didn’t have any other information. She wouldn’t hold back, trusting him enough to deal with the information accordingly. However, Imogen didn’t know him and clearly didn’t trust him, but he thought there was more to it than trying to protect Rowan. He just needed to figure out what.

Conall answered the door while attempting to wrangle his pup, his eyes going wide when he saw who his visitor was. “Angus. What’s happened?”

“Can I come in?” Angus was itching to get started, but knew it’d be easy to put Conall in a mood. “I need yer help.”

Conall nodded and stepped to the side, finally letting the dog loose once the door was closed. He headed for the sitting room, leaving Angus to follow. “Is it Rowan?”

“In a way. I need ye to dig up all ye can on Imogen Murray-beyond the basic information ye gave Rowan.”

“Her mother’s roommate? Seems like ye’re all going to an awful lot of trouble.” Conall grabbed his laptop, his fingers a blur as they tapped out their random melody. “Did ye not find her at the address I gave ye?”

“We did, but she’s lying to us about something and I need to know what.” Angus absentmindedly petted the pup.

“Ye know, if ye tell me what this is really about, there’ll be a better chance I’ll be able to help ye.” Conall gave his head a shake, only looking up for a moment.

Angus let out a sigh, knowing Conall was right and dreading the indelicate matter, given who Conall’s da was. “Rowan’s looking for her father. She doesn’t have any information on the man and was hoping the roommate might help.”

Conall sat back, his eyes locked on Angus. “I’d have appreciated knowing that from the start, aye?”

“I know.” Angus held Conall’s gaze. “Will ye still help?”

He said nothing for a bit, his gaze hard, but then turned back to his laptop. “Ye’re lucky I like her-and before ye go getting yer knickers in a twist, I know ye’ve made yer claim. I’m not like that and that’s not the way I meant it.”

“Well I appreciate yer honesty-and yer help.” Angus sat back, the knots in his shoulders cramping despite the relief that washed over him. 

“Let’s see what we can find-though ye know we should be speaking to my Da.”

“I didn’t want to go digging at old wounds.” Angus tried not to think of what he’d do if he found out who Rowan’s father was. He supposed it depended on who the man was. Yet the thought of keeping it from her, no matter what the reason, had him breaking out in a cold sweat. She’d never forgive him if she found out. “Do ye think he might know?”

Conall shrugged. “Might as well find out.” He closed his laptop and stood. “Are ye coming then?”

“Damn right, I am.”

Conall called ahead to let him know they were coming, and the tea was already made and set out by the time they got there. Angus shook Gordon Stuart’s hand. “Thank ye for taking the time to see me.”

“Sit, lad.” Gordon folded his tall frame into the chair. “What can I help ye with?”

Angus looked to Conall, knowing it’d be best for him to start the conversation. “Da, ye need not discuss any of it if ye don’t want to.”

“Is it about Iona’s lass? The folks in town mentioned she’d moved into the cottage.”

“Aye, Da. She’s looking for her father and has had little luck.”

The older man nodded. “Doesn’t surprise me. Iona refused to speak of the incident.” He let out a weary sigh with a slow shake of his head, emotion tightening his voice. “And don’t judge Iona-or her daughter-for what happened back then. I knew it wasn’t meant to be-a lass like Iona wasn’t meant for a simple life in a small town.”

“Sir…” Angus hated digging at old wounds, especially when it was clear it still affected the man. He could only imagine how he’d feel if Rowan left him for another, especially if they were engaged to be married and she was carrying another’s child. “Did Iona say anything about the man? Anything at all?”

Gordon let out a deep breath and sat back in his seat. “Aye, she did. I insisted on knowing, and given our situation, she had a hard time denying me. Not that she told me his name.”

Angus went from hopeful to disappointed in a heartbeat. “What
did
she tell ye?”

“She told me she loved him and he was a good man. That was something at least-that her betrayal was for love.”  He motioned to Conall, his movements slow and weary. “Get us a drink, son. Tea’s not quite strong enough for this sort of conversation.”

Conall did as he was bid, while his father continued. “Iona said that she and the child would be well taken care of, but she’d have to leave Scotland and wouldn’t return. When I asked her why, she told me that the father of the child didn’t know she was pregnant, and she couldn’t let him find out.”

Angus sat forward in his chair. “So he doesn’t know about Rowan?” Maybe the man wasn’t a bastard after all.