My Seductive Highlander (28 page)

To Shanna, Christa, Chloe, and Isaac for making my heart smile when nothing else will.

My Highland Lover

My Highland Bride

My Tempting Highlander

My Seductive Highlander

Sadie's Highlander
(coming soon)

PHOTO: CHRISTA SULLIVAN

No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to them. That's
M
AEVE
G
REYSON
's mantra. When she's not working at the steel mill, Greyson's writing romances about sexy Highlanders and the women who tame them. Tucked away in a five-acre wood, Maeve listens to the wind singing through the trees and hears her characters telling their stories. Her greatest supporter is her long-suffering husband of more than thirty-five years, who's learned not to throw away sticky notes filled with strange phrases.

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by Maeve Greyson

Coming soon from Loveswept

S
COTLAND

T
ENTH
C
ENTURY

“Above all else, I charge ye with the task of keepin' yer mother safe.”

The gut-wrenching sound of splintering wood, crumbling stone, and toppling walls filled the air along with the deafening roar of the crazed horde destroying the last remaining barrier between the ravaging men of the north and the tower housing the sacred Heartstone.

“Aye, Athair.” Alec fisted the hilt of the Goddess Danu's sacred sword even tighter, thumping it against his chest before turning away from the raised altar where his father, warrior druid sworn to protect the great treasures of the goddesses, stood calling out to the divine deities for guidance and deliverance from the angry throng descending upon the keep.

“Nay, husband. I protect m'self. I've no need for coddlin'.” The object of Alec's orders, his heavily pregnant mother, stood poised in front of one of the tower's tall narrow windows, bow readied with an arrow nocked and drawn.

Sarinda took careful aim, released the missile, then tossed a satisfied smile back over one shoulder at Alec. “Ye will see to the protectin' of the Heartstone and lead yer brothers in the doin' of the same. Aye?”

“Aye, Máthair.” Alec took hold of his youngest brother's arm and turned him toward their mother. There was no use arguing with the woman. She overruled Father every time and wouldna hesitate t'take a stick to his arse even though he be fully grown. “Ross—take the shield and protect her—see that our unborn sister is kept safe as well.”

The young lad of only fourteen summers hefted the sacred shield away from its iron stand beside the altar. The ancient bronze disk shimmered with an eerie glow as soon as the lad clutched it to his chest.

Aye. Scota's shield hungers for battle as much as I.
Alec turned to his other two brothers standing by the last of the hallowed weapons flanking the blessed stone. “Grant—to yer hammer. Ramsay—to yer spear. The stone must be protected at all cost.”

Each brother took up his assigned weapon then looked to Alec for his next order.

The tower shuddered with another hit of the enemy's battering ram, tightening Alec's gut with deeper resolve. This was the worst attack he could remember in all his twenty seasons.

Before Alec had come of age, trained for this calling by his warrior druid clan, his father had led all the wars waged to protect the revered Heartstone—humanity's ancient connection to the goddess's gifts of creativity, imagination, and love—the very heartbeat of hope itself that made life worth living—or so the legends told.

Now his aged father stood at the altar, gnarled hands wafting back and forth through the strange smoke rising from the smoldering herbs he'd placed in the cauldron. Eyes closed, weathered face lifted to the oiled black irons coated with the dripping wax of three thick stubs of nearly spent candles, Emrys Danann MacDara rumbled a deep monotone chant with barely moving lips.

Metal grated against stone as Ross slammed his shield across the arrow slit just in time to block a blazing spearhead. A heavy thud then a rattling scrape against the outer wall beside the window warned that the invaders were closer to achieving entry into the altar room. Ross raised the shield higher, leaning into it as the unnerving clangs of blades clashed against it. Grant and Ramsay rushed to their youngest brother's side, flanking their mother and sheltering her behind them.

The barred door at Alec's back shook with several fast-hitting thumps. Arrow hits. Alec kent the sound well. The acrid scent of pitch and the noxious smell of smoke seeping in around the heavy oaken door burned in his nostrils, fanning the fury already raging in his veins.

This particular battle wasna goin' quite the way it should but since the men of the north had been so kind as to provide him with a healthy curtain of black smoke in which t'hide, perhaps he could change the course of this wee skirmish.

He spared one last glance back at his family as he took hold of the wide oak beam set across the door. “I go to bid our visitors a more personal welcome. Keep the Heartstone.”

“Keep the Heartstone,” his brothers and mother echoed.

And then the world exploded.

The first thing Alec became aware of was the soft shushing sound of leaves rustling somewhere above him. A refreshing breeze brushed a cool touch across his face. The thick cushion of grass on which he rested smelled fresh and sweet as he turned his head into the softness of the earth.

“He is awake, my goddesses.”

Alec forced his eyes open, immediately regretting the decision when the action triggered a thunderous pounding inside his skull. Squinting against the unusually bright beams of sunlight filtering down through the trees, he struggled to focus on the unfamiliar surroundings.

Am I dead? Did the horde kill us all? What in the name of all things holy had happened?
He scrubbed both hands across his face, doing his best to realign his addled senses. And then it hit him—by the goddesses—the Heartstone!

Panic surged through him, forcing him to his feet. He staggered sideways, grappling to steady himself against the solid trunk of a massive oak. An oak. This must be a sacred place. He frantically looked about the unknown surroundings. Máthair…Athair…brothers…the precious stone. What had happened to his family? What had happened to the stone?

A brilliant light descended down through the canopy of trees, shining into the center of the small clearing and hovering just above the ground like a star gently lowered from the sky. “We have brought ye—our faithful servants and protectors of the stone—to a place where ye will be much safer.”

The orb of light echoed as though three females spoke in unison—each of their melodic voices perfectly pitched to enhance and complement one another. “And fear not—we'll no' be a leavin' ye without proper guidance. We've chosen a fine advisor t'see ye well settled here and ensure that ye thrive. Our blessed line of druids must no' die away. Ye will prosper here. Multiply. Keep our stone safe for eternities t'come.”

The goddesses themselves. Alec dropped to his knees, bowing his head and bringing one arm up across his face. “My goddesses.”

“Aye…our brave one. Ye have pleased us well—as have yer brothers and yer parents.” The blazing star undulated with a myriad of sparkling colors, growing brighter and then dimming a bit with each word the goddesses spoke. “Yer family rests in the meadow just past the edge of this wood. They sleep upon the land we have chosen to gift ye.”

“Land?” Alec kept his head bowed. They didna need more land. They needed a new keep with thicker walls that could withstand the enemy's damn battering rams—if memory of the last battle served him. Alec quickly shuttered the thought away and bowed his head lower. One didna question the goddesses and their ways. Those who did…rarely survived the expressing of their druthers.

“Explain it to him, Dwyn. 'Tis best that young Alec hear how it shall be from his new advisor.”

Alec stole a glance up from behind his arm.
Who the hell is Dwyn?
A slight form, more of a shadow and silhouetted against the blinding light of the goddesses' star, approached him.

A deep rumbling chuckle—a full hearty sound that in no way looked as though it could come from the thin shadowy figure walking toward him—echoed through the clearing. The laughing silhouette bounced closer—still out of focus against the brilliance of the goddesses' light.

“I am Dwyn MacKay. The one who shall guide ye through the wonders of this new place and see to it that the MacDara clan does well and continues their legacy to the goddesses and humanity as the protectors of the Heartstone—the sacred stone of hope and love itself.”

“And this place is?” Alec asked, still squinting against the blinding light.

“Twenty-first-century North Carolina. Welcome to the future, m'lad.”

Forget the roller coaster. Where do I get a ticket to ride him?
Sadie Williams peered over the tops of her sunglasses, inching them lower to get an unobstructed view of the man currently flexing all his assets
. Damn. What an import. I bet he's one of Scotland's finest.

He stood in the center of the outdoor practice ring, glowering at the small group of nervous young men fidgeting in front of him. His impressive physique of totally lickable muscular perfection rippled and pulsed as he swung a monstrous sword in a wide graceful arc overhead. His dark hair was slicked back in a severe man bun, perfectly accentuating his fierce unsmiling face.

The man was beyond drool-worthy, and his modified kilt, a shorter sexier version than any Sadie had ever seen in the movies, only added fuel to his already blazing hot persona. The teasing bit of tartan hung low about his hips, its cropped length barely brushing the thickest part of his corded thighs. With his every fluid, predatory move, Sadie wished for a strong breeze to improve the already impeccable view.

“That's Alec MacDara? Mr. I Can't Be Bothered with a Meeting?”

Her sister Delia's hissed whisper, shrill and dripping with insulted disbelief, interrupted Sadie's delightful reverie. Pushing her sunglasses back up in place, Sadie nodded toward the dirt arena where Mr. Alec MacDara, CEO and part owner of Highland Life and Legends, was currently sizing up his most recent batch of applicants.

A historically kilted park employee had led them to this private training area. He'd explained that this was where mock-battle interviewees hoped their sword handling would impress Mr. MacDara enough to score them a job.

Not only renowned for its remarkable authenticity, Highland Life and Legends was also known as one of the best employers in the region. The successful Scottish historical theme park encompassed what seemed like an endless expanse of acreage along the Cape Fear River of North Carolina. The sprawling park and its owners ruled supreme in this neck of the woods.

The nearby town of Brady, North Carolina, would've disappeared off the map years ago if not for the MacDara clan's imaginative creation. The theme park based on Highland myths, beliefs, and everyday life in centuries past had been a lifeline for the past fifteen years to the small burg nestled in the rich countryside surrounding the river. Everyone wanted to be a part of Highland Life and Legends.

Alec MacDara strode up and down the line of young men, pausing now and then to squeeze a shoulder or lift one of their arms as though judging livestock at the county fair. He finally selected the smallest of the group, handed him the sword that was nearly twice the young man's size, and pointed to the center of the ring. “You. Go. Let's have a look at ye then.”

The scrawny nervous boy that would blow away if a strong wind hit him stumbled to the designated spot, visibly struggling to drag the sword along beside him. He let out a wheezing grunt, face turning a reddish purple as he strained to lift the blade into the air. The sword wobbled and swayed for a brief moment then finally dove downward, the tip plunging deep into the dirt.

The rest of the anxious wannabes waiting for their turn at the sword tittered with relieved snickering. The beanpole of a boy shot them all a resentful glare, set his jaw, then staggered backward, using his entire body to heave the massive blade from side to side.

Alec angled his way to the boy's side, clapped a hand on the lad's bony shoulder, and pried the sword out of his shaking white-knuckled fists. “The sword is no' the weapon for ye but yer mother tells me ye've a fine way with the horses. Is that true?”

“I guess so,” the still red-faced lad huffed out, staring down at the ground as though his entire world had just collapsed. “I just wanted to be one of the fighters—you know—for the girls?” He let out a despondent sigh and kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt.

“Many a fair lass waits in line to ride the fine MacDara warhorses we have stabled here.” Alec gripped the boy's shoulder and gave him a congenial shake. “I'm thinkin' they'd be most impressed by a man able to control such mighty beasts and take them for rides through our fine countryside. What say ye?”

The boy's face visibly brightened. Renewed hope straightened his back and he stood a bit taller. “Really?”

“Aye.” Alec nodded and steered him toward a gated path on the other side of the ring. “Off wi' ye now to the stables. Old Tom's expectin' ye.”

“Thanks, Mr. MacDara!” The boy bobbed his head, his lopsided grin stretching from ear to ear as he loped toward the gate.

Well, well, well. An uber-alpha Highlander with a heart of pure gold. Sadie cocked the bill of her ball cap a tad lower. Alec MacDara's kindness triggered a warm glowing sense of happy straight to her core. I could so get into researching this guy for a hot Highland screenplay.

A sharp jab in the ribs rudely interrupted the promising dialogue already flowing through her mind. “What?” she huffed out as she turned and fully focused on her sister.

“I asked you a question and your head rattling when you nod doesn't tell me a damn thing.” Delia's face—immaculately chiseled by L.A.'s best plastic surgeons—tightened into a displeased scowl that even Botox wouldn't erase. She smoothed her miniskirt with an irritated yank then hooked a finger in her plunging neckline and resettled her newly purchased cleavage to a more revealing angle. “If that's Alec MacDara, I know exactly how to handle this meeting.” She flexed her toned and professionally sculpted body like a peacock preening for a mate.

“Yes. That is Alec MacDara, CEO of Highland Life and Legends.”
And I'm sure he'll be panting at your feet in no time. His type usually can't resist you.
Sadie tapped the surface of the electronic tablet. “See? I showed you this article about him and his family the other day. Remember?”

Delia waved the tablet away, not even sparing Sadie a sideways glance. “In case you haven't noticed, I am extremely busy. You can't expect me to hear every inconsequential word that falls from your lips.” She turned and fixed Sadie with the only look she'd ever had that remotely resembled a smile. As far back as Sadie could remember, Delia had never managed a real smile or looked remotely happy. Her strained smirk always came off looking as though she smelled a stink.

Delia's simpering pout twisted up at the corners into an even more malicious curl. “You might be my sister but I hired you to handle things. Be my assistant. For your sake, I ignore your babbling—much like tuning out background noise. Now hush while I observe this fine male specimen and plan my next move to close this deal.”

Sadie locked her jaws shut. She needed this job. It was the surest bet she had at getting into the world of screenwriting.
Just gotta take it 'til I make it.
Her sister Delia had founded Realm Spinners Productions with the vast inheritance left to her when their parents had died in the crash of their private jet.

Delia also controlled Sadie's meager share of what really couldn't be termed an inheritance. The paltry amount had been more like a slap in the face. But Delia had been named guard dog to all the money in the Williamses' vast estate. All Sadie could figure was that it was a last-ditch effort by their mogul parents to not only instill some humanity in heartless Delia but also force Sadie to finally conform and stop being so—how had they always put it?—so damned embarrassingly unconventional.

Sadie really didn't hate her parents for their last act of aristocratic bullying. After all, they'd always treated her that way—and besides, she was the adopted one. The odd one. The fat little Mediterranean girl they'd taken in to prove to the world how charitable they could be.

Sadie huffed out a humorless laugh. She'd show them, show all the bullies. Succeeding and being the best screenwriter she could be would be her sweet revenge. She shook off Delia's bitchiness and hurried to jot a few memory joggers into her tablet. Alpha Highlander. Softhearted. Wounded-hero type.
I'll plot this one out tonight.

“I'm a busy man. If ye wish t'speak with me, ye'd best be about it, aye?”

The suddenly much closer proximity of that deep, rich voice with the come-hither brogue triggered a sharp inhale that effectively lodged Sadie's gum into the middle of her windpipe. Fisting one hand over her mouth, Sadie turned away, coughing and wheezing for air.
Dammit. I'm gonna die right here in front of Mr. MacSexy.

Strong hands gripped her arms then a sharp rap between her shoulder blades effectively caused the offensive wad of chewing gum to shoot out of her mouth. Sadie closed her eyes.
Oh my God, just kill me now. Delia's gonna have a shit fit and this guy's gonna think I'm an idiot.

Turning her about, the strong hands held her arms with a much gentler grip, steadying her on her feet. “Are ye all right then?” Concern filled the clearest blue eyes Sadie had ever seen.

“Fine.” Sadie bobbed her head and backed up a step with a nervous fluttering of one hand. “Just got choked on my gum. Thanks for knocking it free.” She fished a crumpled tissue out of the pocket of her jeans and scooped the sticky ball of embarrassment up from the ground. She wrapped it tightly in the tissue and shoved it back in her pocket. “Don't want anyone to step in that. Doesn't it just piss you off when you get gum stuck on your shoe?”
Sweet Jesus, shut me up now.
She was babbling like a fool.

The hint of a grin played across the man's full lips, perfectly highlighting the slightly off-centered cleft in his chin. “Aye. 'Tis rudeness itself when folk show such disregard for the land and those who walk upon it.”

Delia shoved her way in between them, extending her perfectly manicured hand and amping up her
I smell a stink
smile to its highest possible wattage. “Mr. MacDara, I'm Delia Williams and I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate your meeting with us today.”

A mask of irritated boredom immediately shuttered in place, darkening Alec's face like clouds blotting out the sun. His gaze briefly dipped to Delia's extended hand, then slowly returned to her face. He took a step back and folded his muscular arms across the endless expanse of chest that had taken on the most delicious gleam in the heat of the afternoon sun.

Sadie did her best to control the urge to lick her lips. The man looked like a well-oiled piece of sensual machinery ready for action.

“As I said, I'm a busy man.” Alec frowned down at Delia's still-extended hand. “There are two reasons why yer here today. My legal counsel advised 'twould be wise t'hear ye out.” He paused, his harsh tone softening as his focus swiveled back to Sadie. “And then there's the matter of the daily emails.”

“Daily emails?” Delia snapped as she awkwardly withdrew her hand and totally failed at saving her air of authority by propping her fingers on one hip and striking her trademark
you can't resist me
pose.

Alec then fully turned to Sadie, his scowl shifting to something more like amusement. Or was it a flicker of interest? Surely not. She had to be reading him wrong. Guys like him went for thin, leggy blonde Delias, not curvalicious chunks of fun Sadies.

“I assume yer the writer of the emails?” Alec asked, his deep brogue melting into what could only be described as a wonderfully audible caress.

“Uhm…yes, I am.” Sadie ignored Delia's irritated huff and extended her own hand. “I'm Sadie Williams. Delia's assistant…and sister. But how did you know the emails were from me, Mr. MacDara?”

“Ye may call me Alec—and the emails had a certain tone.” Alec paused and cast a dismissive glance over at Delia. “Yer messages had a way about them that fit ye. I doubt this one here could write them.”

He scooped up Sadie's extended hand, gallantly brought it to his lips, then gifted her with a genuine smile she'd remember in her dreams. “ 'Tis m'utmost pleasure t'finally meet ye, Mistress Sadie Williams.”

“Just Sadie will be fine,” she whispered, then pressed her lips tightly together and held her breath. She was torn between melting into a purring puddle of sheer bliss and laughing out loud at the strangled sound of Delia shifting into Mach 1 super-bitch hyperdrive. She knew for certain she couldn't laugh. If she did, Delia would surely fire her ass on the spot.

Clearing her throat, Sadie lightly squeezed Alec's warm calloused hand. “The pleasure is mine. And thank you for meeting with us. I hope you won't be disappointed.”

“Aye,” Alec said. “ 'Tis my hope I'll no' be disappointed either.” The way he held her hand a bit longer before reluctantly letting go made Sadie wonder if Alec was talking about something other than the business meeting.

“Mr. MacDara…uhm…Alec.” Delia sidled closer, struggling to keep her stiletto heels from getting stuck between the boards of the wood flooring of the observation landing. “You said your legal counsel found the terms of our filming contract suitable and recommended you speak with us. What do I need to do to convince you that Realm Spinners Productions should be allowed to use your lovely theme park as a filming location for our Scottish historical romance?” She leaned forward, arching her back and flaunting her cleavage so Alec would have no doubt that anything he might want was his for the taking.

“I'll thank you t'call me Mr. MacDara.” Alec turned away, picked up his sword, and shoved it into the sheath belted to his side. “And I didna say the contract was found suitable. I said counsel recommended I speak with ye.”

Without a look back, he headed across the practice arena with long powerful strides. “Follow me. The board and I have our own terms and questions—as does my lawyer.”

Sadie started to follow then looked back at Delia. Her red-faced sister was currently standing with her hands on her hips and staring after Alec as though she couldn't believe he'd just cold-shouldered her and walked away.