Highlander's Challenge (18 page)

She looked down at his hand and followed the tan skin up his arm to his face. His eyes were mere slits, but they saw everything.

Confused by her feelings for this man, which seemed to be growing and changing with every passing day, she wasn't sure that spending time alone with him was wise. He lifted his lids, catching her in his steady gaze. "Please." Twice, he'd said please, not something he did on a regular basis, she was certain. With a nod, she returned to her chair. There was something different about him since that kiss. Or perhaps she'd been the one to change.

"Thank you for reading tae Elspeth. I know she takes great pleasure in it," he said.

"I enjoy doing it for her."

He nodded and looked into the fire. "Do you write as well?"

"Yes. I can write, read, add, subtract—a great many things you'd think were uncommon or impossible for a woman." His lips curled up at one corner. "Somehow, I dinnae doubt what you say. For the most part."

She relaxed back into her chair, confused by his partial admission. He must have finally resolved himself to her at least being different.

He returned his gaze to the fire. "I've had the same thoughts as you, regarding the men below and their purpose here. There is more going on, as you say, than the obvious." He paused a moment, seemingly collecting his thoughts before continuing. "I believe someone is trying tae start a war 170

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between the MacLeans and the MacKenzies tae weaken our numbers."

He agreed with her suspicions. She felt honored by it in some way. "You think they want to take over the island, is that it?" she asked.

"Aye. Arreyder stands on the crag overlooking the Sound of Mull where Loch Linne and the Firth of Lorne meet. 'Tis a most strategic position."

She nodded, clearly understanding the strategy. "No clue as to who they are?"

He stood and paced to the window. "Nay. We have lived a good many years in peace on the isle. But the men who ambushed us were MacKenzies. So I must assume they are working together." He looked at her over his shoulder, his arms folded.

"But what you don't know is whether or not I'm working with them," she said.

He nodded solemnly.

She moved closer and rested one hand on the back of the chair he'd been sitting in. "I'm no threat to you or the clan. I honestly didn't ask to be here. It just sort of happened," she said with a shrug. "Let me go, MacLean. I'm not the enemy." Although, she didn't have a clue how to get back to Jenny, she at least wanted to know she could leave when she wanted without any trouble.

He slowly dropped his hands. "I would like tae believe you, lass, but I canna chance it. If you aren't the enemy, then you must remain here until 'tis safe for you tae leave."

"I can take perfectly good care of myself." 171

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He eyed her wrist, and she decided it would be best to keep quiet on that point. It didn't hurt nearly as much as before, but she hadn't done it any good wrestling with Robby's father.

Crossing the room, he stopped before her. "Be you a friend or foe, I'm responsible for your life, just as I'm responsible for every man, woman, and child on MacLean land."

"You don't want me here, you don't trust me, and I didn't ask to be anyone's responsibility."

"I only wish tae keep you safe." He brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "I'll not find you in the wood with your pretty throat slit."

His touch was like electricity licking her skin, traveling over the most sensitive parts of her body. She wanted him to kiss her and oh so much more, although she knew it was dangerous stuff. They weren't meant for one another. She was from a different time and place, one he could never begin to understand. But that didn't stop her ever-increasing heartbeat or the flush of heat between her legs. His gaze held hers, and she knew he felt the same pull, the overwhelming desire to lose themselves in one another. He opened his hand and slipped his callused fingers into her hair at the base of her neck. Leaning into his caress, she relished the unexpected tenderness of his touch.

Then he pulled away, his fingers curled into a fist. "You may have freedom tae move about the keep, but remain inside the walls. A guard will be with you at all times." He turned and crossed to the door. "And put on some proper clothes," he tossed back over his shoulder. 172

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Her mouth snapped closed with that last order. "Tyrant," she grumbled, and turned toward the darkness out the window. She caught her reflection in the watery glass and tentatively touched her cheek, then her lips, remembering the exquisite feel of him.

"One of us has to be crazy."

The next morning, a smiling Fiona arrived after breakfast, hoping for another Tai Chi lesson. But this one was going to cost her a favor. Tuck took a few minutes to explain what she needed to the giggling girl then proceeded to demonstrate her latest lesson.

Fiona caught on quickly, but she had a bit of a temper. She was so frustrated with her skirts getting in the way of her exercises, she nearly ripped them to shreds while cursing a blue streak in a mix of Gaelic and English. Poor Michael had his hands full with this one.

She managed to save the girl's clothes by suggesting she knot them at her waist so she could move more freely. The tight bodice, however, was a different story. It had to go. Once she was set, they began again. She envied Fiona for her petite beauty and natural grace.

A choked gasp brought their heads around as they performed a slow turn, crossing one foot in front of the other.

"Just a minute, Elspeth. She's almost got it," Tuck said, as they completed the last step. "There, perfect. You're a natural, Fiona."

"I'm hopin' that means what I'm thinkin'." Tuck chuckled. "It does."

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"What are you—why is she—explain yourself," Elspeth sputtered, her hands splayed on her hips.

"I'm teaching Fiona a few exercises."

"Whatever for? She gets enough work as 'tis."

"Oh, well, uh, it's a way to relax. To unwind." Fiona sighed as she untied her skirts and laced up her bodice. "'Tis no use, Tuck. She knows things, she has the sight. We might as well tell her."

"Look, Elspeth." Tuck draped her long arm over her shoulder. "I'm just teaching her a few moves in case she ever needs to defend herself."

"Fighting is for the men," Elsepth said, puffed up like a mother hen.

"Yeah, well, I won't argue that one. Even though you're wrong," Tuck said. "But it's a rough life here. It doesn't hurt to be prepared. You never know what might happen. You're not going to squeal on us are you?"

"I dinnae know. It doesna seem proper, a young lass learning such things."

Tuck ignored the unintended dig. Elspeth wouldn't hurt a soul, but the fact remained she was a lass, and she knew how to fight. Did that make her less of a woman to these people?

To MacLean? Was that why he didn't want to kiss her again?

Geez, when would she make up her mind? First she wanted him to see her as a soldier, now as a woman. Shaking off her annoying waffling, she said, "I tell you what, Elspeth. Why don't you come back for her next lesson tomorrow morning and watch? If I do something or show her something you think isn't proper, you can shout out. Okay?" 174

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The older woman pondered it a bit, her brow crinkling.

"Verra well. I'll watch, but I'll not be having any of your nonsense. You'll stop when I say stop," she said, wagging her finger in Tuck's face.

She snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, Ma'am." Elspeth grinned wryly. "Off with you, Fiona. 'Tis time tae tend your duties."

With a wave and a wink that she'd return shortly, Fiona was gone.

"I know you care for the girl, dear," Elspeth said as she turned to her. "But mind you, be careful. I wouldna want any trouble between her and Michael, you ken?" Tuck held up her hand, and vowed, "I promise."

"Good," Elspeth said, patting her cheek. She giggled softly at Elspeth's mothering, welcoming the sensation, having never felt it before. Or at least none worth remembering. Those memories always brought back the pain.

"Now I've come tae ask a favor. I hope you dinnae mind," Elspeth said.

There wasn't much she wouldn't do for Elspeth. "Whatever you want, I'll see what I can do."

"'Tis the laird." Her usually bright face fell with her words.

"Maighread was called away last eve tae a cottage some distance from here. She'll not be returning anytime soon, and I need help tending tae Douglas. He doesna take his healing drafts well and with you being such a big bonny lass and ye have the skill, I thought ... you see, he minds Maighread, but doesna take kindly tae others."

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Tuck nodded. "Of course I'll help." She may as well make herself useful until she could figure out how to get back to her own time. A time without incredibly sexy Highlanders whose kisses were more passionate than anything she'd ever imagined.

But whose ogre-like tendencies drove her insane, she added to that thought, chiding herself for getting caught up in her stupid fantasies again.

"Thank you, lass. I'll come and fetch you after the midday meal." Elspeth toddled out, her smile once again gracing her round face.

Tuck readied herself for Fiona's return, eager to play her next card in the battle of wills between her and MacLean.

* * * *

Colin sat down at the long table in the great hall, his mind not on his meal. He should be well and tired, his body fatigued from training with the men, but he still felt restless. It was that blasted woman and that unforgettable kiss. She was seeping into his blood like a sickness. No matter how many hours he trained, no matter how cold the wind atop the battlements, he could not drive her from his mind. He absently sipped from his cup, relishing the lack of herbs and the pestering of his cousin. Glad he was she'd been called away to a birthing.

An unnatural silence fell on the hall. He lifted his head and followed the gazes of his men. All eyes were on Amelia. His mouth fell open as his anger boiled. What in bleedin'

hell was she doing wearing a kilt?

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She strode across the room to her place at the table with a slightly pale Michael trailing behind her. The only sounds were her heavy footsteps from her odd boots as she crossed the stone floor.

"You," he said lowly. "Come here." She paused and considered the matter, then casually strolled toward him, and stopped by his side. "Did you want something?"

"Sit."

Her gaze darted to the bench beside him. She lifted her foot to slide in, showing a goodly amount of bare thigh before she sat. He gripped his cup tightly, holding in his groan. She turned her head, her chin at a jaunty angle, and grinned cockily. "Happy now?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you about?"

"I'm about to have lunch."

He snarled at her comment and the growing pain in his head. "Your clothes, you taupie," he snapped. She set down her cup and glanced around the hall, taking her time to respond. "I put on some
proper
clothes." A faint snicker or two reached his ears. He turned to see the entire room either gawking or laughing behind their hands.

"Go about your business," he ordered. The sounds in the great hall returned to normal, albeit much more subdued. He'd wager every ear was turned to his discussion with this arrogant female beside him.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled. "You were tae put on woman's clothes."

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"But that's not what you said. You said proper clothes. These are the proper clothes for a soldier. Which is what I am."

He leaned in close to her ear, hating himself for noticing her tantalizing scent. "You sit here only because I wish tae save you the embarrassment of displaying your backside tae every eye in the room. Else I'd throw you over my shoulder and toss you back intae your chamber and leave you tae starve."

"Huh, like you could. But even though I am a soldier, I'm not quite as free beneath my kilt as you," she said, and stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth.

He ignored her continued bletherin' about being a soldier, determined to gain the upper hand, and leaned closer, nearly touching her ear with his lips. "Mayhap I should help you tae your chamber and find out for myself," he murmured, his voice laden with suggestion.

She choked and frantically reached for her cup, her cheeks burning brightly. He smacked her on the back a time or two, more than pleased.

Quickly regaining her composure, she shot him a glare.

"You try it and you can forget about ever having any heirs."

"Blast you, woman," he said, irritated with her quick footedness. "Go back tae your chamber and change. Wear whatever the devil you like, but doona e'er show yourself in a mon's kilt again or I will rip it from you no matter the audience."

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She swallowed another bite of her meal, took a slow sip from her cup then quietly left the great hall. He'd lost this battle, but the lass would not be so lucky the next time.

* * * *

Happily back in her comfy jeans, Tuck followed Elspeth down the hall toward the laird's room. She shuddered as the image of MacLean throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to her bed repeatedly flashed through her mind. It was definitely the stuff dreams were made of, or scathingly erotic fantasies. Either way, she was having one serious sexual meltdown, but how would it end? With a bang or a fizzle?

Elspeth paused at the chamber door, putting a halt to the irritating questions and the disturbing changes happening inside her. She had a task to perform, and she refused to let Elspeth down.

"Mind you, he can be verra stubborn, although he's weak," Elspeth said.