Playboy's Challenge (Highlander's Series) (7 page)

“Are ye goin’ ta let your wee babe put you on your arse, wife?”

Colin’s shout jerked him from the red haze slowly gathering behind his eyes.

What the hell was the matter with him? Deidra could obviously take care of herself. And she’d specifically told him last night to stay out of her business.

He pushed a long, unsteady breath between his clenched teeth and focused on cooling down. It wasn’t his place to play hero, not for Deidra, not for anyone. He’d only let her down anyway, like he let everyone else down.

For several more minutes the women fought until both winded and smiling, Tuck snagged her daughter’s hand and pulled her to her feet. A round of applause echoed in the lists as they crossed to stand before him and the others.

She wasn’t only a knockout, she had some serious skills, and he admired her for it. The little girl, all arms and legs that had trailed after him and Erin was no more. She’d grown into a beautiful—deadly woman.

“Have you had your fun for the day, wife?” Colin asked, with a telling wink.

“Oh, I can think of some other fun things to do today,” Tuck said, swiping a bit of mud from her cheek.

Colin snagged her hand and pulled her from the lists into the castle, both of them wearing smiles that spoke volumes.

“Why the dirty old sod,” Adam muttered.

“Aye,” Erin said with a laugh. “’Tis their way of wooing each other. Can be a bit nauseating.”

Adam nodded. “Mine are just as bad, but without the hand-to-hand combat.”

“Theirs is a great love,” Deidra said, her voice tinted with bittersweet regret.

He supposed it wasn’t easy for her to see them like that after having been treated so poorly by that Bran guy the day before.

That was what she meant last night. That he couldn’t give her what she so obviously wanted. Love. The one emotion he refused to get involved with ever again.

“So, are you ready for more?” Erin asked, slapping him on the back, snapping him from his thoughts.

Who would want that from him? Not Deidra, that was for sure. “I don’t suppose I get to eat anytime soon,” he said.

“You eat when you’re finished,” Erin answered with a wide smile.

“You’ll starve then, because my dear brother has already broken his fast,” Deidra said. “I saw him steal inta the kitchens afore the sun rose.”

Adam chuckled. “Figures,” he said, cutting a look to his friend, then looked back at Deidra. “You know, that was pretty impressive.” He nodded toward the area where she’d worked out. “Guess you didn’t need me to step in between you and Bran after all, huh?”

Her lips pulled up into a smirk. “Nay, I didna. I can put a man on his belly if I’ve a need to.”

“Aye, that she can,” Erin agreed with a firm nod.

Adam, couldn’t resist. “Care to make a bet on that?”

Her eyes widened, and those tempting lips fell open with a faint squeak.

“Aye, see if ye can beat our wee lass,” Michael said, ambling up beside them.

“But—”

“Have her make one of her meat pies if she loses,” Erin suggested, ignoring Deidra’s sputtering. “They be a feast for the senses.”

“If?” Adam said, then looked back at Deidra. “Well, what do you say? Are you up to the challenge?”

A shaft of fear shot straight through Deidra’s heart. She couldn’t fight him. She would be far too distracted by the nearness of him, by the continuous teasing glint in his eye. The odd sensations she’d had when he’d first arrived, how he made her feel desirable, wanted. And that damnable almost kiss last eve.

No, she could not fight him and win, for although she would like to hand him his head, he made her feel very much like a woman, and reminded her of all the things she would never have.

“I’ve nothing to prove to you, Adam Sutherland,” she said, her tone firm, although she felt a quivering deep inside. “And I’ve chores to see to. I’ve—”

He stepped closer, that devilish grin upon his lips. “So you’d rather scrub dishes? Maybe that’s what you’re best at,” he taunted.

Her eyes narrowed. “I doona do dishes.”

“Then are we on?”

She bit her lip then gave a firm nod. “Verra well. And when I win, you will be the one scrubbing dishes.” She looked at Erin and poked him in the chest. “And if you think to be bettin’ against me, you’ll regret it.”

He held up both hands with a broad grin. “I would ne’er dream of such a thing. ’Twas meself that boasted of your talents, was it no’?”

She punched his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being my brother,” she said, and stomped into the center of the field.

Michael shoved a chuckling Adam toward her. “Show us what you’re made of, mon!”

Adam turned his warm gaze to her. “If you don’t want to do this, I won’t hold it against you.”

She planted her hands on her hips and scowled at him. “You’d have me forfeit? I willna’ look the fool to one and all. I am no’ afraid of you,” she said, tasting the lie on her tongue.

Perhaps her mother was right. There was something between them, something she didn’t understand, nor did she wish to.

He shrugged. “Have it your way. And just to set the matter straight, I’ve never thought you to be anything but brave. Even when we were kids.”

Her shoulders sagged and her irritation fell away, melted by the sheer pleasure of his words. He thought her brave? No man had ever said anything of the like to her before.

Her moment of thought was soundly interrupted by the lunge of his body. She barely had time to react. The battle was on.

She dodged his thrust and used his momentum against him, sending him sailing past and onto his knees. The garrison was full of laughter, all save the women. They were cheering him on, urging him to fight their mistress. It was a bit daunting to have her own sex against her, but she fought on.

They went at one another for several more minutes, when a particularly bawdy comment from one of the men seemed to spur Adam on. With his renewed energy, combined with an unusual tactic, she found herself pinned beneath him, their noses—their lips but a scant space apart.

“Looks like I win.” His voice was low and soft between panted breaths that brushed her lips.

She licked the edges to catch a taste of him, and his gaze followed the stroke of her tongue. This was worse than the night before. With the feel of him atop her she couldn’t gather her wits.

He leisurely raised his gaze to hers. “I wouldn’t be opposed to making a trade for the pies.”

She swallowed hard before forcing sound to travel up her throat. “What do you want in their stead?”

“A kiss.” He grinned. “Or two, one for each pie.”

Deidra’s heart, already racing, pounded mercilessly against her breast.

“You are daft,” she whispered, hating it was all she could think to say. She’d sworn not to like him, knew that anything between them would come to naught. ’Twas madness to even consider his proposal.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” he said, his voice rich and sweet.

“Aye! You damn fool,” her brother said, as he and Michael snatched Adam up by the arms. “You could’ve had two of her best pies. Now, why would you wish to give up such a treat for a blasted bit of smourichet? And with Deidra of all women!”

His last comment jolted her to her feet. “I’ve no’ agreed to the trade, and it’s none of your bloody business if I do!”

In a fine temper, she stormed off the field, reminding herself that Adam Sutherland was a rogue through and through.

“Kisses for pies, indeed,” she muttered. The man saw her now and always as a target for his games. His odd offer of a trade was just to rattle her wits, to tease her as he’d done so many times when they were children. So much for his plea for forgiveness.

Well he could wait until Hell froze over before she’d bake him a pie. And he’d not be claiming any kisses either!

****

Adam watched her, unable to take his eyes off her lithe form. The woman was built to perfection, had the damndest glow in her hazel eyes, and a pair of lips that would send a man straight to heaven.

Michael smacked the back of his head. “Put yer eyes back in their sockets, mon. She’s no’ a lass ta be toyed with, ye ken?”

“Right,” he said, rubbing the back his head. “Got that—a little too well.” But inside he was thanking Michael for knocking some sense into him. She was out of reach, off-limits, absolutely the do-not-touch variety.

Erin bumped his shoulder as they walked toward the hall. “Aye, she isna one to toy with. With the things you’ve done to her when we were babes, I’d wager she’d use that knife of hers she keeps strapped to her leg if you so much as suggest anything of the sort.”

Adam came to an abrupt stop. “Knife? But I didn’t see—”

“Aye, and ye willna until it be too late,” Michael said with a hearty laugh, as he strolled off across the courtyard to where his wife stood with a sweet smile on her face.

Erin slapped Adam on the back. “’Tis true. Mum taught her how to wear it, and ’tis always by her side. But mayhap she would only wound you a bit, no’ castrate you,” he said with a laugh.

Adam attempted to laugh with him, but he had the feeling Erin wasn’t kidding. He had been pretty rough on her when they were kids, and he had a million other reasons to keep his hands to himself.

So why the hell was he finding it impossible to wipe the sensation of her beneath him and more from his mind?

Chapter Six

Adam did all he could to avoid Deidra for nearly two weeks, which wasn’t all that difficult since she seemed to be avoiding him as well. But as day after day passed and a pie never materialized, he couldn’t contain his grin. A grin that Deidra did everything she could to avoid noticing from across the table.

Her gaze roamed the room, skimming over him as if he weren’t there, her cheeks a delicious pink, and he knew she wanted his kiss. His instincts, honed to perfection where women were concerned, tingled with the knowledge that she was attracted to him, but he really should ignore that little tidbit. They were childhood friends, practically family, and she was, as Michael had said,
not a lass to be toyed with
.

But what was the harm in a few kisses? As long as that was all they shared, he’d be satisfied that he’d not crossed the line or broken any of his own rules. She knew he wasn’t the kind for long term relationships, she had a keen eye. No way would she think he was the marrying type. She pretty much said so that first night. He wouldn’t—couldn’t give her what she needed.

Erin grumbled under his breath beside him about the continued lack of pie and how his old friend was addlebrained, but didn’t make their altered agreement public, which was a relief. Adam rather Colin didn’t know about the trade for kisses, not sure how the old Highlander or his aunt would take it.

As the days trudged onward, the work on the gatehouse slowly progressed while he silently made plans on when and where he’d claim his prize. Privacy was a must, he thought with a soft chuckle, just in case she decided to deck him for it. He’d never hear the end of it if anyone was witness to that.

While Colin talked of the new gate’s progress, Adam silently observed Deidra across the room. He wanted the kiss to be perfect—more than perfect, because he had a funny feeling that as desirable as she was, she’d never been kissed before. No man would have the nerve to test Colin MacLean’s temper by taking advantage of his daughter. And there was that knife of hers Erin had mentioned.

Then there were the off-hand remarks he overheard from some of the men. They’d labeled her as cold as a witch’s teat and as shrewish as any old maid. He’d been tempted a few too many times to take them to task for the comments, but something held him back. Probably Deidra’s edict that she didn’t want his help, but that hadn’t stopped him from landing a few well-placed blows in the lists on occasion.

His uncle pulled him back to the present, and he responded to his questions about the gatehouse. But the moment Deidra lifted her head, he was caught in her gaze for several seconds before she turned her attention elsewhere. Oh yeah, she wanted to be kissed, and she wanted it as badly as he did, no matter what she’d said.

Michael appeared in the doorway with a stranger. “Malcolm Macconach ta see ye, m’laird.”

The man strolled inside, his gait sure, his gaze taking in everyone in the room, especially Deidra. For some reason, that rankled.

“State your business, lad,” Colin said, not yet dismissing Michael, who hovered near the door.

Adam supposed it was for protection. In the real seventeenth century, you had to assume that all unknown visitors were not a friendly sort.

“Laird MacKenzie asks that ye meet him at Tobor Morar three days hence, m’laird,” the man said.

“And does he say why?”

“Nay, sir, only that ’tis of great import. Other clan leaders are ta meet with ye once ye cross the loch.”

Colin glanced at Tuck who nodded solemnly.

“Tell him, I will be there.”

“We will be there,” Tuck said, her voice firm.

Macconach’s gaze darted to Tuck, then with a nod looked back at Colin. “I am ta go with ye. Another is ta send back word.”

“Verra well,” Colin said. “What is your position in MacKenzie’s clan, lad?”

“My father is Aileen MacKenzie’s cousin.”

“Ah, family then.” Colin looked to Deidra then back to the visitor, an odd look in his eye. One Adam didn’t care for at all.

Erin had told him earlier that his uncle had been trying to find a proper husband for Deidra for some time, but she’d turned them all down. Then again, he couldn’t blame her if the sort of suitors she had were anything like that idiot Bran. But it looked as if this Malcolm character was a possibility.

Why that bugged the hell out of him, he didn’t care to examine. He only knew that this new guy wasn’t everything he seemed to be. The way he carried himself, how he kept looking at Deidra, and the fact his words seemed rehearsed, set off warning bells in his head.

“Deidra, see ta making our visitor comfortable, lass, and have some food prepared for him,” Colin said. “’Tis a long ride from the MacKenzie keep.”

She rose and crossed the room, her fluent grace holding Adam’s attention, and he knew it held the newcomer’s as well.