Playboy's Challenge (Highlander's Series) (5 page)

Adam just nodded and swallowed more ale.

A sudden crash brought everyone’s attention to the far side of the room. On the floor lay a few of the younger highlanders, all about Adam’s age. As far as he could tell, their bench had tipped over with them on it.

“Deidra!” Colin’s bellow echoed amid the silence.

She regally lifted her head and moved to his side away from the upset bench.

“Aye, Da? Is there something I can get for you?” she asked sweetly.

His eyes cut back to the men who were climbing to their feet. As they righted the bench, not a one of them lifted their gazes to Colin.

They’d either said or did something, and she’d given them a piece of her mind, no doubt, in classic Deidra fashion. If they knew what was good for them, they’d slink out of sight as soon as possible.

Colin cocked his head at his daughter. “Is there something amiss?”

“Nay, Da. Why do you ask?”

Tuck nodded at Colin, a grim frown on her lips.

The laird turned his steely gaze on the young highlanders. “It has been ta long since the cesspit has been mucked out, think you, wife?”

“I believe you’re right, husband.”

The shoulders of the men sagged. One rose to his feet, lifted his chin, and faced the clan laird. “We—volunteer ta the chore, m’laird.”

“I thought ye might,” Colin said, then motioned for the man to return to his meal.

Still holding in his laugh, Adam looked to Deidra, thinking he’d find her gloating, but his humor turned to dust. There was a stiffness to her shoulders, a paleness to her features, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was trembling. Somehow he knew it wasn’t from unspent rage.

It would appear there was far more to Deidra MacLean than he remembered. More to her than the gangly girl who’d gotten into just as many scrapes as he and Erin had. A girl he’d always admired, because she rarely told on them, and always took their pranks in stride with her chin high—just as it was now. And yet not once could he recall her ever looking as though she wanted to cry from one of their stunts.

He wondered what had changed in her since they were children that would allow her feelings to be hurt so easily. Or had he simply not noticed them when he was a boy?

He lifted his ale and took a hefty gulp, the truth tasting no better with drink. Apparently even when he was just a kid, he’d been no good.

****

Deidra held onto the contents of her stomach, repeatedly swallowing back the bile climbing her throat. If only her father hadn’t said anything. She’d handled the situation, the men knew not to speak to her that way again, but to have the whole of the clan watching as her father bellowed for her, then doled out his own punishment was embarrassing.

Her gaze darted to Adam sitting with Erin and Michael, a fierce scowl on his face. She supposed it was far better than having him laugh at her, which is what she would’ve expected from the cur.

Why could her da not leave well enough alone? Had she not taken care of the matter herself? Had she not made her point abundantly clear?

Her stomach heaved again, remembering Bran’s distasteful words, as they mirrored what the men had said, what they all said.

She was the last woman any man would ever want.

Perhaps they were right, perhaps she would always be alone, never have what her parents had…never know that sort of love. Never be the center of any man’s world, ne’er bounce her own babes upon her knee. Mayhap she should take the next man to offer for her as her husband.

But what if no man ever asked for her hand again?

“I’m no’ feeling well, excuse me,” she said, and darted from the room, the thought of lying next to one such as Bran was as sickening as lying alone for the rest of her days.

She made her way to the garderobe and just in time. She remained for several minutes and once finally convinced there was nothing left in her stomach, she rinsed her mouth and made her way for the solar and the peacefulness it promised. While the others ate their meal, she would sit and consider things with a clear mind and no interruptions. No pitying glances, no murmured voices behind her back, no laughter at her expense.

She splashed a bit of whiskey into a cup, then sipped it as she settled before the fire. The warmth spread through her body, easing the tenseness in her shoulders. Gazing into the flames, a smile teased the edge of her lips. If Erin had heard what the men said, he’d have been challenging each of them. He meant to protect her in all things, just as he’d thought to do that very afternoon with Adam. He was a good brother, albeit a bit lazy.

No, that was unfair. He wasn’t lazy, he was a dreamer. She often found him staring o’er the loch with a lost look on his face. He dreamed of the future, of the USA, and of the adventures he longed to have there. Ever since they’d learned of time travel when they were children, he’d longed to go, to see it all for himself. Their own mother was from there, although she never spoke of it. Deidra was certain Adam’s ears would be in tatters from his questions once Erin had a moment alone with him.

“He does have rather nice ears,” she whispered, then shook her head at such nonsensical murmurings.

Ears indeed. What did she care what his ears looked like? They functioned as any other man’s, nothing special in that. His eyes, his nose, his mouth—a sigh slipped from her lips.

Blast the man! What he looked like did not matter!

She took a hefty sip of the whiskey and stared hard into the flames. Adam Southerland was a scoundrel. The way he’d wrapped his arm around Eileen with a flirting grin, aye, he was as his father was said to have been, pure rogue.

And she was Deidra MacLean, a strong and proud woman, a woman with an opinion, a woman who refused to allow a man she could not respect anywhere near her heart.

A woman who will die an old maid
, her conscience prodded.

She kept her eyes on the fire, hoping it would burn away her pain, her fear that such a future was to be hers. She didn’t want to be alone, but refused to accept an offer from any man who did not truly want her.

Thus far they’d only wanted her dowry, and the influence to be had from marriage to the daughter of a powerful laird. Even Bran had said that much just that morn. They hoped to gain a higher station through the connection while overlooking her faults. They’d never truly wanted her—Deidra.

She got to her feet, her spine snapping straight. “And I didna want them,” she said with a snarl, then threw the cup into the flames. The flash of fire, the crash of the cup as it shattered against the hearth, mirrored her volatile mood.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what they said to tick you off so much.”

She jumped at the unexpected sound of Adam’s voice, but held her place in front of the hearth and glared at him over her shoulder.

“’Tis none of your business.”

“Didn’t think so,” he said with a shrug. “But I think a round or two in the lists with a few of them wouldn’t hurt.”

“Doona do me any favors, Adam Southerland.”

“Consider it a long overdue apology for when I snuck a garden snake into your bed.” He stepped up beside her before the hearth.

“I doona want your pity, either.”

“Pity’s got nothing to do with it. The way I see it, I owe you a lot of apologies.”

Folding her arms, she stared up at him. “Do you, now? Feelin’ a wee bit guilty, are we?”

His bright blue eyes sparkling, he moved closer. Close enough to send an inexplicable shiver along her spine.

“Come on, Deidra. I’m trying to make up for the past. Just name it, and I’ll do whatever you want.”

She tried to remember the torment she’d endured, the many things he’d done, but it all seemed so inconsequential now.

“You doona need to do anything,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides, the grudges she’d held gone. “We were babes, ’tis of no consequence now.”

She started to turn away, but he stopped her with a touch of his hand on her arm.

“It does matter.” He slid his hand to her waist and pulled her close. The fingers of his other hand danced along the side of her cheek. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice warmer than the whiskey she’d drank.

She couldn’t pull away from his touch. It was if she were frozen, unable to do anything but gaze into those mesmerizing eyes. “I—I—”

“Tell me,” he whispered, leaning closer, his warm breath teasing her lips, his chest brushing the sudden hardened tips of her breasts.

“You canna give me what I want, Adam,” she managed to say, her voice faint to her ears.

A sad smile slipped over his features, and he eased away just as her parents and Erin entered.

She took a steadying breath, as his gaze held hers. Had he been about to kiss her? Did he think that was how he could repay her his transgressions from their youth?

Forcing her gaze elsewhere, she did her best to hide her disappointment. His attentions were mere sport. ’Twas how a rogue behaved, after all. She needed to remember that when dealing with him.

Burying her feelings deep down, lest her mother take notice, she focused her attention on fetching her da a drink.

“We’ll arise early, mi lads,” Colin said. He crossed to his desk and sank into the massive chair, then granted Deidra a nod of thanks for his cup. “I’ve a need ta see how well you’ve fared with a sword after all these years, Adam.”

“I’ve kept up with it. It’s a good workout, regardless of the century,” Adam said, pouring himself a dram.

“Good, then maybe I’ll no’ pound you into the dirt,” Erin said, a wide smile on his face.

“You can try.”

“Aye,” Colin said. “As will I.” Her father looked at his work lying atop the scarred surface of his desk, then back to Adam. “You said something about buildings afore, did you no’?”

Adam took a hefty sip of his drink with a nod. “Yeah, that and engineering, with a focus on historical architecture. Why?”

“Will you care ta have a look at these, then? I would like ta hear your thoughts on them.” He held up several papers.

Deidra couldn’t contain her snort of disbelief. Ne’er could she see him as a scholar. His flirtatious nature alone proved him to be a man who sought his pleasure wherever it was to be had. That near kiss, one she was determined to put from her mind, was absolute proof.

Adam grinned at Deidra as he crossed to where Colin sat, but she merely rolled those glorious eyes. He needed to quit thinking about her and all her delicious parts. Although, not more than a moment ago, he found himself studying her lips, imagining their feel, their taste—and if not for her response, he was certain he would have been caught kissing the daylights out of her.

He took the papers Colin held and pushed thoughts of Deidra to the back of his mind. He had no choice. Her remark had not only put him in his place, but reminded him of his vow to keep his hands to himself where she was concerned. Although he honestly wanted to make up for the stuff he’d pulled as kids, he had no business thinking about her that way.

Shaking off the irritating spurt of disappointment, he perused the papers in his hands.

“A new gatehouse?” He looked up from the rough drawings, a broad smile on his face. It was really more than just a gatehouse, but an entirely new fortification of the entrance to the castle. “Expecting an attack?”

Colin’s face was grim. “One never knows,” he said, cutting a look to Tuck.

Adam glanced between his godparents, feeling the weight of their concerns. They believed they were in the past, he got that, so he guessed the realities of that time would be foremost on their minds. But seriously? Invasion?

He looked to Erin, his face a mirror image of his father’s.

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? I mean, you believe—” He looked at each of them, ending with Deidra. “You really think someone is going to attack.”

She pulled those tempting lips into a firm line. “You doona believe in the traveling. ’Tis a hard bit to swallow, but ’tis true. I know nothing of your time, ’tis no’ something I have cared to know. But I do know that you have your battles, that innocent people are hurt and killed just as they are here.”

Her gaze flickered across her family as she lifted her chin higher. “’Tis our duty to do all we can to protect the clan, to protect those that canna protect themselves.”

The strength, the determination and conviction wrapped in such womanly curves was a wonder to Adam’s eyes. She was simply magnificent.

His do-not-touch mantra echoed through his brain, but it was losing what little strength it had.

“But I doona believe you, of all men, would be of any help to us,” she said, and turned her gaze to her father. “He’s not of our world, and his schooling—” She shot him a look of such skepticism, it sat like a rock on his chest. “Teachings from his time would be of no use to us.”

The look on her face, the tone of her voice was so similar to what he’d heard time and again from his father, his grandfather, his ex-girlfriend, it turned his stomach. No use then and no use now.

He hadn’t cared all that much about being productive. He knew he would never be able to live up to their expectations, but for some reason, he wanted to show her—Deidra—that he could be an asset, be dependable, useful…worthy of her. That he could give her what she wanted.

He shook his head at the thought. Deidra wasn’t on his agenda. He had nothing to prove to her or anyone else.

Pasting on one of his practiced carefree grins, he said, “You’d be surprised at what I’m capable of, sweetheart.” The added wink had her spinning away with a huff.

He looked back to Colin, his grin falling from his face. “And after all, this is not the seventeenth century. There’s no one pounding on the gates, so my skills are sort of moot, at this point.”

Tuck chuckled as she crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of Colin’s desk. “Tell you what, kiddo. Let’s say we drop the whole time thing. Doesn’t matter if you believe or not, if it’s real or not. But you’re here for the next three months, so we may as well put you to work. Now, are you gonna help or not?”

He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess it can’t hurt to improve the front gate.”