Playboy's Challenge (Highlander's Series) (12 page)

Never a good idea, in Adam’s mind, especially in light of what had happened. And true to Colin’s style, he grabbed Tuck from behind and tossed her over his shoulder.

“Damnit, Colin! Put me down. I’m going after her and nothing you can do will stop me!”

“I’ll no’ lose both of ye in one day!” He stormed toward the castle with her kicking and screaming down threats on his head like none Adam had ever heard before.

“I’ll go,” Adam called out over her curses.

Colin swung around, Tuck still dangling over his shoulder and looked at him. “Ye doona know what yer about, lad.”

“I know more than you think,” he replied. “And you can’t toss me over your shoulder to stop me. I’m going after her whether you like it or not.”

“Something tells me we got here just in time,” a familiar voice said from behind.

Adam spun to find his parents standing behind him, dressed in clothes of the day and carrying leather packs.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?
How
did you get here?”

Tuck’s shouts ceased and all eyes turned to them.

“By the saints,” Colin hissed as Tuck struggled to get free. He finally put her on her feet. “Aye. How did ye come ta be here now? ’Tis no’ the solstice.”

Jenny looked at Tuck’s face, still red with temper. “This is how,” she said, holding up a canteen.

She quickly explained that the water wasn’t specific to the spring. That the time portal had many points, like a highway map that interconnects through time. As long as the water was gathered on the solstice it would work.

“What I would like to know, is why the guards nearly took off my head when we approached the gates,” Ian said.

Adam looked to Erin and the others. Between his parents and Colin, he’d never get out of the keep if he hesitated another moment. Enough time had been wasted already.

“I’ll let them explain,” he said. “Right now, there’s something I have to do.” He kissed his mother’s cheek, then raced past his father and Erin, to snatch up the reins of Tuck’s fresh horse.

As the sun fell low in the sky, he was riding out of the keep before anyone could stop him. But he knew they would follow, which was fine with him. He had a feeling there would be a battle before this was done, and yet he couldn’t stand by and wait for them to hash out a plan to get Deidra back.

Something had been nagging at him since he’d first discovered there was no kidnapping. Something he had a feeling would take him right to Deidra.

He rode hell bent across the island, back to the inn where they’d first asked about Macconach and the MacLeans. The innkeeper had some questions to answer.

Chapter Ten

Deidra held back her tears, she would not let him see her cry. “You’re lying.”

Macconach chuckled. “I’ve no need ta lie. I gutted him with little work, and he squealed like a pig.”

She’d known about the offer for her hand by a Campbell, and knew without so much as a second thought that he would be refused. The delicate peace between the Campbells and MacLeans had always been a trial for her da, but she knew he would not sacrifice her or any of his family in such a way.

“I wouldna’ be here, held for ransom, if my da were dead,” she said.

Macconach’s pretty face turned to her, and in the dim light he was more menacing than any scarred man she’d ever seen.

“I wasna speakin’ of Laird MacLean. His death would only bring an uprisin’ from the clan.” He poured some ale into a cup as he spoke. “And ’tis no ransom Gorin Campbell seeks. ’Tis yer wee hand he be wantin’.” He cast her a sickening grin over his shoulder.

“You mean MacLean land.”

He chuckled with a nod. “Aye, yer a right smart bitch. For no mon would wish ta take ye ta wife fer anythin’ less.” He jerked her head back and poured ale down her throat.

She spat out what she could, not knowing what sort of herbs he had mixed with it.

He jerked his hand away, ripping hair from her head. “Nay, ’tis yer lover that I speak of killin’.”

A cold foreboding settled over her heart. “I have no lover.”

He laughed. “Ye can deny it all ye want, but the mon is dead, just the same. I ken the way he watches ye, and ye him.”

“Who is dead?” she asked, her voice no longer strong.

“Adam Sutherland,” he said, his once-pleasing grin sending a sickening wave of loss surging through her.

“No.” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

“As I said, wench. I’ve no need ta lie.” He turned and refilled the cup.

“When my hands are free, Macconach, I will cut off your manroot and feed it to the dogs!”

“And if it weren’t fer the need ta keep ye in one piece, I’d cut out yer tongue, woman! Now, drink!”

Deidra spit the vile potion he’d poured into her mouth back in his face. She’d been right, and knew it for what it was as she sensed a blurring of her vision.

He lifted his hand to slap her, and she braced for the blow, but it was the least she deserved. Adam was dead because of her. He’d been nothing but a friend to her and her family, and yet he was not a part of her world.

No, he couldn’t be dead. She would know, in her heart, if it were true, would she not? Because she loved Adam. She’d known it was inevitable. He’d been a part of her life, her heart, for so very long.

She clamped her lids closed at the thought of never seeing his devilish grin or taunting wink again. His wit, his charm—his kisses, all gone.

The blow came and she never uttered a sound.

****

Adam hid his horse in the woods nearby, then stole up to the inn, using the night shadows for cover. He looked in the stable and saw what had been bothering him. The innkeeper had said there was no one at the inn when they’d asked about travelers, that all his rooms were empty. Only Colin and his small group had been there and gone. But the horses in the stable, the sort no innkeeper would own, told a different story. War horses were an expensive commodity.

Adam couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been, but then his and Erin’s only thoughts at the time were to find Colin and Tuck. There was no reason not to believe the innkeeper.

His gaze lifted to the main building. He had to get inside undetected. He had to know who the innkeeper was hiding—either voluntarily or against his will. Either way, the old man would sound the alarm.

Examining the structure, he decided his best option was to start at the top. Guards would be watching the road and the yard before the inn, not the roofline.

He grinned, thinking back on one particular girlfriend. She’d actually been born into a circus family and had acquired an unusual set of skills—both in and out of the bedroom. So when she dared him to learn to walk a tight rope, he couldn’t resist a challenge from such a beautiful and very agile woman.

As he scrambled up onto the stable roof, he never dreamed how handy the skill would be some day. Keeping to the shadows, he carefully walked the roof line to where it joined with the main building. A curtain fluttered on the main floor, and he held his breath a moment before continuing, then continued until he was at the top.

He paused with a hiss as he pressed his back, cold with sweat and the chilly night air, to the wall. His ears sought out the slightest sound of voices beyond the small window beside him, but all was still. He braced himself with a deep breath, not knowing what he would find inside, and squeezed through the window into the attic.

The darkness engulfed him as he eased across the room to the narrow staircase. He paused at the top and listened. Nothing. His steps had not been heard, there was no one sounding the alarm.

He continued on and made his way down the narrow staircase. Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he watched and waited once again, but this time for some sign, something to tell him where Deidra was being held.

It wasn’t long before Macconach emerged from a room down the hall. Adam had to stifle the urge to leap from the shadows and go straight for the man’s throat, but instead pressed deeper into the darkened corner of the stairwell.

Macconach went down the center stairs and was met by a voice from below.

“So how does the bitch take ta yer gentle handlin’, Macconach?” Several jolts of laughter echoed up the stairs as he descended out of sight.

Adam’s gaze shot to the room he’d come out of. It had to be where Deidra was being kept, and he prayed that sarcastic crack about gentle handling proved false.

His breath, trapped in his lungs, he eased from his hiding place and made his way down the hall. Pausing before the room Macconach had left, he listened for any sound from inside, but there was nothing. He lifted the latch and slipped into the room with only the faint squeak of the door to alert anyone to his presence. But he heard no change in the noise coming from below.

With a relieved breath, he turned away from the door and caught sight of Deidra, tied to a bed, her cheek red from an apparent blow, and a faint glistening of tears on her cheeks.

Macconach was a dead man.

****

A soft shuffling caught Deidra’s ear, pulling her from her thoughts, from the pain, and the faint cloudiness edging her mind. She refused to let Macconach know that some of what he’d mixed in the ale had made it down her throat. She could not, would not let him win.

“Back so soon?” she said, her voice not as firm as she would like. And she feared her tears had slipped away, but her tone was cold enough to give the illusion of strength.

A hand suddenly clamped over her lips, and she thrashed beneath the pressure. It couldn’t be Macconach. He would have gagged her if he were afraid someone would hear her. She prayed as she struggled that her future had not taken an even darker turn than the one he planned.

“Shh, Dee. It’s me, Adam.”

She fell still, fearing her broken heart and muddled brain were playing tricks on her. Or mayhap he was a ghost, for it would serve her right to be haunted by him for the rest of her days. ’Twas the least she deserved for bringing about his end.

“I’ve got to get you out of here. There’s half a dozen of them at least.” The ghost untied her hands and feet, and yet she could not bring herself to move, to think, to dare to hope it was truly Adam.

“Deidra?” He slipped his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“You’re—you’re no’ a ghost? You’re no’ dead?” she asked, her voice broken and raw from the tears that begged to fall.

He chuckled lowly. “No, baby. I’m no ghost.” His thumb rubbed over her cheek and she winced as it brushed a tender spot. “That son-of-a-bitch,” he said with a snarl. “I’ll kill him. After I beat the hell out of him. But first we’ve got to get you out of here.”

Adam pulled her to her feet, but had to catch her as she swayed. “Dee?”

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

“Maybe I should rescue you more often,” he teased.

“He said he killed you,” she whispered roughly.

He chuckled. “And you were worried about me?”

She tilted her head back and tried to focus on him. “Aye. More than you know.” Her eyelids sagged and she pressed her face to his chest as a shiver quaked through her body.

Adam held on to her as fear surged through him. “Deidra, what’s wrong? What did he do to you?”

She took a deep breath then lifted her head. “Herbs in the drink. I didna’ take much, but I couldna’ spit it all out.” She shook her head as if to clear it, and forced her eyes wide. “I will be fine.”

“I hope so, because we have one hell of an escape to make.”

Satisfied with her firm nod, he took her hand and led her to the door. As he reached for the latch, she placed her hand atop his and stilled.

“Wait, there is one more thing I must do,” she said.

“What?”

“This.” She pressed her lips to his in a fevered kiss. One he couldn’t help but return.

Wrapping his arms around her, he clasped her to his chest as wave after wave of desire surged through his body. But this was not the time or place, and she was still under the influence of the drug. He eased his lips from hers, their heavy breaths mingling in the musty air.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I don’t think now is the best time,” he said.

“Aye.” She pulled her arms from around his neck and took hold of his hand. “Later would be best.”

The look in her eyes accompanied with that remark, had him thinking what he shouldn’t be thinking. Not now, not ever, but it remained at the edge of his mind as they silently made their way out of the room and down the hall to the attic.

“Okay, this is the hard part,” he said, coming to the small window. “We’ve got to cross the roof line to the stables.

He looked back at her over his shoulder. Her eyes widened, but were filled with determination. She bent over and tied up her skirts the way she did for a workout in the lists, and he knew they’d be okay. Although she seemed to still be unsteady, Deidra could handle just about anything.

“I’ll go first.” He climbed out onto the roof, then helped her through the window to join him. “So far, so good.”

Holding tight to her hand, he led her across the rooftop, hoping like hell she wouldn’t have a sudden dizzy spell form that drug. “The trick is to not look down.”

“You act as this is no’ the first time you’ve done something like this,” she whispered.

He smiled at her over his shoulder. “You don’t really want to know. Believe me.”

She opened her mouth, no doubt ready with some smart remark, when a door opened below, leading to the courtyard.

After a moment’s hesitation, they eased down into a crouch, and her grip on his hand tightened. The voices below were muffled, but he could make out most of the words. Macconach was sending someone to inform Gorin of his success, and to meet at the ruins in two days.

Adam and Deidra exchanged glances, each knowing exactly what the other was thinking. The MacLeans would be there as well, ready and waiting.

Silence returned to the courtyard, and they resumed their dangerous trek across the roof. After only one slip, a close call that had sent Adam’s heart to his throat, they were soon on the ground, and running for the woods.