Playboy's Challenge (Highlander's Series) (3 page)

A shout, more like a roar echoed from the open door, and the three of them looked up to find Amelia Tucker MacLean, the lady of the clan MacLean, or Aunt Tuck to Adam, standing at the top of the steps, her arms akimbo, with fierce hot fury spiraling around her flaming red hair edged with gray.

It was a beautiful and yet terrifying sight. Adam had to consciously close his mouth, the picture before him was beyond amazing. Two strong, powerful women, like bookends in their stance and stature, only their coloring was different. No man stood a chance when caught between them.

Colin MacLean appeared behind his wife, a scowl on his burly face. His hair had streaks of gray as well, but he was still a man you thought twice about before going up against.

“You be lucky, Bran. I’ve a mind ta take your head for your lies, but I doona care ta upset my wee wife any more than she be already.”

The pathetic man lifted his head, and Adam clearly saw a good deal more damage to the man’s face than what he’d received from the fall.

“Then again, with what she has wrought on you herself, perhaps you no’ be so lucky after all,” Colin said with a humorless chuckle. “Deidra, do you wish ta decide his fate? ’Tis your name he has cast aspersions on, lass.”

Sadness crept over her features for a mere second, and yet long enough for Adam to wonder about her true feelings in all this.

“Let him spread his dirty lies to all and sundry. ’Tis of no consequence to me.” She kicked dirt into his face, then spun on her heels and stormed off around the corner to disappear into the garden.

Colin and Tuck exchanged a concerned look before dealing with Bran. “Leave the isle, Bran, and ne’er return,” Colin said. “You’ll no’ be welcome here again.”

As the man staggered to his feet, Amelia met him at the foot of the stairs. “If I hear that you’ve so much as said one word against my daughter again, I will kill you,” she said, her voice a chilling calm. “Make no mistake about that, Bran. I will kill you ever so slowly, then leave your body to rot where the scavengers will pick your bones clean.”

With a pale-faced nod, the man backed away, bumped into Erin who shoved him hard toward the gate, then took off running as if the hounds were on his heels.

After a moment’s pause, Adam turned with a smile to his aunt and uncle and asked, “Is it always this boring around here?”

“Smart ass,” Aunt Tuck said, and hugged him hard. “It’s good to see you, kiddo.”

“You too, Aunt Tuck.”

She pulled back, cupped his face with a smile for a moment then said, “You fellas head inside. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

He watched her disappear after Deidra, then nearly lost consciousness with the powerful hug from his uncle Colin.

Chapter Three

Deidra bit down hard on her bottom lip, determined to keep tears of frustration from sliding down her cheeks. That was what they were, surely. They couldn’t be caused by hurt feelings. She had a tough skin, as her father often said. But today, she feared there may be something more behind them.

Aye, she was mortified by Bran’s pathetic proposal and then his reprehensible behavior afterward, but ’twas not all that different than other marriage proposals she’d received over the last few years.

“Nay, ’twas his presence, to be sure,” she muttered, letting her fingers drift over the hedge lining the path as she idly strolled through the garden. She didn’t usually have an audience, but this particular observer made it all the more difficult.

Although Adam had grown into a fine-looking man, he was still a plague from her youth, and to have suffered such humiliation before a former foe was humiliating.

When he’d appeared by the brook, she knew deep in her heart that the handsome man was none other than Adam Southerland. Her uncle Ian was a dashing figure with his blonde hair, aristocratic looks, and blue eyes, and ’twas no surprise those traits had been passed to his son. Although Adam’s hair was more akin to light brown than blonde, he had inherited much of his father’s looks, especially those flashing blue eyes.

She sat upon the stone bench and looked over the garden before her, a shameful grin upon her lips. The way he spoke, his flirting remarks, his touch before he’d discovered her identity was a slight boon to her pride.

When she was but a girl, she had suffered his many pranks, had wished him ill on more occasions than she could count. And although she was no longer the child he’d teased, but a woman fully grown and apparently not at all distasteful to his eye, he would torment her still.

“There you are,” her mother said, taking a seat beside her. “How are you holdin’ up?”

Deidra covered her recent ponderings with a bright smile. “I am okay,” she said, using one of her mother’s words.

“Uh-huh. So today’s snafu isn’t buggin’ you?”

“No’ awfully, no.”

Her mother patted her hand with a heavy sigh. “I know it’s hard, Dee. I was rejected by men all of my life. Until I met your father,” she added with a smile.

Her back stiffened. “I doona want Bran. He is a loud-mouthed braggart with less wit than a sheep.”

Tuck eyed her knowingly. “I wasn’t talking about Bran, baby.”

Deidra dropped her gaze to her lap and smoothed her skirts. “The ones before are of no matter either. I wanted none of them.”

Her mother let out a sigh and rose, pulling a leaf from a nearby bush. “No matter how hard a parent tries, there are things we can’t change.”

She dropped the leaf and turned back to her. “I’ve watched you grow into a beautiful, strong woman. I’m proud of you, Deidra. But I’ve also watched you guard your heart from anyone that dares to get too close.” A bittersweet smile touched her lips. “You’re just like your dad and me. Or like we were, a long time ago.”

Deidra cocked her head with a faint grin. “I doona see how that is a bad thing.”

Tuck chuckled. “No, not in some ways, but in matters of the heart, I’m afraid we are too much alike.” She glanced to the sky, then looked back to Deidra with a misty look about her eyes.

“When I met your father, I had no place in my heart for anyone. I’d built up a line of defense the likes of which no one has ever seen in any war. But somehow, he found a way around my perimeter.” She snorted and shook her head. “He hadn’t meant to, but he made me fall in love with him.”

“And he fell in love with you,” Deidra said, her voice barely a whisper, afraid she might choke on the words. Words she feared would never apply to her.

Tuck nodded. “Yep, that took him by surprise. He thought he was supposed to be strong, to not let his feelings show. And he was supposed to marry someone else, someone your grandpa chose.”

“Aye, so you’ve said before.”

Her mother leaned down and squeezed her shoulder with a smile. “I guess what I’m trying to say, baby, is that there’s nothing wrong with holding out for the right guy. Just make sure you’re guarding your heart for the right reasons. No one is ever what they seem on the outside, especially men.”

She grinned up at her mother. “Are you saying that Bran is no’ an arse?”

Tuck laughed and started down the walk. “Nope, I think you called that one dead on.” She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “But Adam isn’t the boy you once knew, and you’re not the same little girl.”

She winked and disappeared into the castle leaving Deidra staring after her with her mouth hanging open.

Adam Sutherland? She nearly choked on the laugh that burst from her throat. The only feelings she had for that scoundrel were hostile. He was certainly a handsome man, aye, but to suffer any true attraction to him? Ludicrous.

Shaking her head, she rose from the stone bench. That had to be the most outrageous, preposterous, insane notion her unconventional mother had ever had.

She went into the castle to help prepare for their visitor. Although he was an old nemesis, she would not dishonor her clan with bad manners. But he’d best behave himself, for as her mother said, she was no longer the child he once knew.

****

“Well my lad, how come you ta be in our part of the world?” Colin asked, slapping Adam on the back. He guided him into the castle, his hand on his shoulder with Erin on his other side.

He still couldn’t get over seeing them, or Deidra. Man, what a change a few years had made to the skinny little girl he remembered.

“Did your parents no’ come with you?” Colin asked, pulling him from dangerous thoughts about his daughter.

“No, it’s just me. Dad and I haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye lately, and Mom, well, she’s pretty ticked at me too, I guess. Probably why she pushed me into a fountain last night,” he shamefully added.

His uncle paused on the top step to the second floor. “Pushed you, ye say?”

He chuckled, thinking of his petite and dainty mother. “Yeah, can you believe it? Thing is, though, I’ve no clue how I got here. After she pushed me, next thing I know, I’m sitting in the field beyond the spring—wet.” He motioned to his sad tux.

Colin rubbed his chin with an odd sort of gleam in his eye and a quick glance to Erin. “Interesting bit, that. Interesting.” His smile lifted and he returned his hand to Adam’s shoulder. “Well, we’ll talk more of it later. First let’s get you inta some dry clothes, then have a drink ta welcome you properly.”

They continued on toward the bedchambers, but Adam couldn’t help feeling like he was missing something. Maybe Colin and his mother had somehow cooked up a scheme to get him here after she pushed him into the fountain. She was pretty upset, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been sent to stay with his godparents as some sort of punishment. Like a kid being sent to his room. If he remembered correctly, the island was sparsely populated and everyone was into doing things the old way. And getting off the chunk of rock wasn’t easy—was it?

Hell, he couldn’t even remember how they travelled to the castle when he was a kid, or even which isle it was. All he could recall was Scotland, a boat, and that they travelled at night. Sometimes, he would wake up, lifting his head from his father’s shoulder, but he always fell back to sleep by the time they’d arrived.

His only clear memory was of waking up in the room his godparents kept ready for him. So how had they managed to do it this time? He hadn’t hit his head and lost consciousness, nor had he been drunk enough to pass out. It just didn’t make sense.

“Here be your auld chamber,” Colin said. “We’ll wait for you in the solar, lad.”

“But Da—” Erin started to say.

“In the solar,” Colin repeated, cutting off his son and shoving him from the room.

Yep, something was definitely up, and the sooner Adam got changed, the sooner he’d get some answers.

Finding a homespun shirt and some breeches, likely some of his father’s old clothes, he changed out of his tux, then went to join Colin and the rest of the family in the solar for some answers. And he wouldn’t mind another look at Deidra. She may be strictly hands-off, but his eyes would certainly enjoy the view.

He made his way down the familiar corridors, brushing the stone walls with the tips of his fingers. He’d always loved this old castle. It was what prompted him to be an architect and a historian of ancient structures. But his studies would have led him nowhere, his grandfather had said more than once.

The old man had wanted him to go into science, to work for him in medical research like his mother had done before he was born. So he took enough classes to get a minor degree, hoping to pacify the old guy and went to work for him once he got out of college.

It didn’t take long, however, to realize it wasn’t for him. After a year of working in labs, he’d had all he could take and quit. His grandfather was pretty pissed about that, said he was disappointed in him, which wasn’t anything new. Disappointing people was what he did best, after all.

But this…he paused in front of the large wooden door of the solar, admiring the craftsmanship. He never thought he would end up where his first passion began. Not that he’d made any plans after getting sacked, but it felt right somehow, being here, with these old friends, in this ancient place.

With a smile on his face, he entered the solar. His gaze found Deidra instantly. Shame he couldn’t pursue that particular passion, but even after gaining supreme playboy status, he still had a few rules.

No fraternizing with family friends, and no intimate relationships with women of the must-marry variety. He would look but not touch, because Deidra fell into both of his no-way-no-how categories.

“There you are,” Aunt Tuck said. “I was beginning to wonder if you got lost.” She came over and hugged him again. “It’s so good to see you.” She gave him a good once-over while clasping his shoulders. “You got your father’s build, but your mother’s eyes. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you got double doses of their stubbornness,” she said with a laugh.

Snagging him by the arm, she tugged him to a chair and put him in it. His aunt was never one for subtleties. Although she had streaks of gray in her hair, she was a woman not to be taken lightly. Her time in the army and her rough-around-the-edges nature made her incredibly strong, physically and mentally, and those traits hadn’t waned over the years. Bran’s bloodied face was testament to that.

“So, before we get into the how and why you’re here, tell me about your parents. How are they, what have they been doing and so on? We haven’t seen them in a few years.” She took a seat beside her husband and slid her hand into his.

They were a unique pair, both big, gruff, determined people, but the way they looked at each other was not unlike the way his own parents did. It was sort of annoying, come to think of it, but he shook it off and focused on filling them in on what his folks were up to.

While Adam spoke, Deidra moved about the room, handing him and her family each a cup of ale. She had trouble concentrating on his words. His melodic voice rang against the stone walls.

She pursed her lips in annoyance. Melodic indeed. Had she forgotten his teasing, the pranks she’d suffered at his hands?

As he took the offered cup from her hand, their fingers brushed and a tingle raced up her arm. His gaze shot to hers, and her breath caught in her throat. Had he felt something similar?