Susana and the Scot (12 page)

His heart thudded.

Dear God.

The girl was a menace.

She definitely needed a cage.

She was very much like her mother, Andrew decided. Both were intransigent and reckless and probably in need of a spanking.

Thoughts of Susana … and a spanking claimed his thoughts and he thrust them away. Obviously, there was no point in mooning after her. No point in attempting to pursue her. Not given the way she'd rebuffed him. Not given her undeniable fury with him. Not given her determination to scuttle his every effort to protect her and her people.

From here on out, he needed to focus on one thing and one thing only. His mission. He would launch into it full force, without her cooperation if need be. He and Hamish had already developed a plan and were prepared to set it into motion.

Susana would not be pleased.

He tried to pretend it didn't matter.

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

Susana leaned against a tree and stared out at the garden. It was beautiful in the rose light of sunset. She loved coming here to watch the evening fall, and after a day like today she sorely needed the simple peace. But as beautiful as it was, it didn't calm her soul.

Memories of the kiss in the smoke room and her subsequent fury kept intruding.

Damn the man, for kissing her again, for leading her back to that place where she felt alive and feminine and … vulnerable. As exhilarating and frightening and agonizing as it was … she wanted more.

She needed to make a vow to never let him get close to her again. To never let him kiss her again.

But she didn't think she could. If she was being truthful, if he so much as crooked a finger at her, she would follow.

That was the most bothersome part of all.

She'd thought she'd taken charge of her life. She'd thought she'd built a wall that protected her, but it was all a flimsy facade. All it took was a look, a wink, a smile and her defenses crumbled to dust.

Though she'd convinced herself she was over him, that he was a dim memory from her past, she'd never forgotten him. Not really. She'd never gotten over the heartbreak. The pain in her chest was a testament to that.

The worst part of it all was the knowledge that even though he was a faithless philanderer, a seducer of legions … she still wanted him. She still became a malleable lump of hungry flesh in his arms.

Since she couldn't resist him, her best bet was to avoid him.

Even that was a painful thought. Some small hidden part of her being rejoiced in the fact that he was here. That they might have a second chance. That was the foolish part of her being, she decided. Because the only second chance his presence here represented was a second chance to break her heart. It was—

“Susana…”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the deep voice behind her, intruding on her melancholy. She ignored the flicker of disappointment that it wasn't Andrew.

“Hamish.” With a sigh, she turned to greet him. Ach, he was bonny and braw. He seemed to be a nice man. Why couldn't she have met a man like him before her heart was shattered?

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jerkin and strolled toward her. The expression in his eyes gave her pause. It was far too predatory for her liking. “Lovely evening, isn't it?” He didn't seem interested in the evening in the slightest. His gaze was locked on her. To be precise, on her lips.

What was it about men and their fascination with lips?

“It's going to rain.”

He smiled. It was a charming smile, but it lacked … something.

It was probably wrong to compare him with Andrew. Though he was an extraordinarily handsome man, he would never measure up. Those sparkling eyes, not quite as intent. That grin, not cocky enough.

But then, she compared every man with Andrew on some level. She had for six years. And no man ever measured up.

“I find I like the rain.” He set his palm on the tree behind her and leaned in.

Oh, dear. He was far too close. She tipped up her chin to study him.

“I find I like you.” He tangled his fingers in her hair.

She resisted the urge to laugh. His seduction was far from subtle. “Do you?”

“Aye.” He stroked her cheek with a thumb.

“Surely you doona intend to kiss me.”

He blinked. “I do. I've been thinking about kissing you from the moment we met. Have you thought about it?”

“No,” she said truthfully. She hadn't been able to think of any other man, any other lips since she'd set eyes on Andrew.

Hamish set his palm to his chest. “You wound me, Miss Dounreay.”

She did laugh then. “I'm sure you shall survive.”

His eyes twinkled. “I love your laugh,” he whispered. His gaze intensified as he bent his head. His lips brushed hers, lingered. She allowed it, but only because he was gentle and sweet. And because he needed to realize there was no reason to continue this pursuit. When she didn't respond—whatsoever—he lifted his head and sighed. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

He offered a sheepish grin. “I thought not, but I had to try.”

“Of course.” He was a nice man, and comfortable company. She never felt
at ease
around Andrew. Around Andrew, everything was a tumult. Susana found she rather liked Hamish's tranquil companionship.

He stepped back and stared out at the sea, now painted in reds and pinks. “Aye. A lost cause from the beginning, I suppose, this seduction.”

“Is that what this was?” A simple kiss, a testing kiss?

He chuckled and raked his fingers through his red curls. “Perhaps not. But … I wanted to know.”

“Know what?”

“If there was a chance.”

Poor man. A chance? There hadn't been a chance for any man with her. Not for six years. Not since a tall, charming boy with silver locks pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

“I couldna help noticing…”

Susana didn't like the shift in Hamish's tone; it went from playful to contemplative in a heartbeat. She frowned at him. “Couldna help noticing what?”

“The way you look at him.”

Her nape prickled. “Him?”

“Andrew. Are you interested in him?”

“Nae.” The word came out of its own accord. Probably force of habit.

Hamish's eyes glinted. “And I couldna help noticing the way he looks at you.”

She stepped away and crossed her arms, ignoring the trill of excitement his words evoked. “Really?”

“Quite curious, those looks. Considering…”

“Considering what?”

“Considering the fact you both deny an interest in each other. Yet when you are together, the energy between you is palpable.”

“Nonsense.”

“I also couldna help noticing something else.” Like a playful boy, he used the tree limb as leverage to swing around and face her. “Something verra interesting.”

She stilled. “What?”

“How much your daughter resembles him. Curious that, considering you both proclaim you've never met before.”

Her heart froze. She frowned at him.

“Same smile. Same eyes. And those dimples?”

“Doona be ridiculous.”

“I've never seen hair quite that color … except in the Silver Lochlannachs.”

“Many people have blond hair.”

“Not that exact color. And then there's the odd fact that the both of you were in Perth six years ago. And your daughter is … what? Five?”

“Lots of people were in Perth six years ago. Besides … ask him. If he and I ever met, he doesna remember.”

Hamish tipped his head to the side and grinned. “Ah. Is that what it's about then?”

“What?”

“Your resentment of him?”

“I doona resent him.”

“Liar.” There was no heat in the word. “The two of you met in Perth, had some torrid affair. You found you were with child and fled home … and now, when you meet him again, he doesna even remember.”

He was far too clever. And observant. “Doona be daft.”

“Deny it if you will, but
you
know the truth.” He offered another grin. It was tinged with something that might have been sympathy. “And so do I.”

“Did you really come here to kiss me? Or to try to uncover all my secrets?”

“Both.” He winked. “I believe I've accomplished both.”

Susana sighed. She couldn't deny it. In fact, she no longer wanted to. “Are you going to tell him?”

“It's not my place.”

“Isn't it? You're his friend.”

“Aye. But it's not my place to tell him. It's yours.”

“Bluidy hell.”

“He deserves to know. It would be better coming from you. I know Andrew can be rather oblivious sometimes, but he will figure it out. At some point. It would be better if you told him first. And he does … deserve to know.”

“Does he?” She fisted her hips. “He's a faithless seducer. He flits from woman to woman. He canna remember the name of the last girl he kissed.”

Hamish laughed, threw back his head and howled. “Is that what he told you?”

“Nae. He said he remembered but couldna tell me for some strange reason.”

“He couldna tell you because it would have made you furious.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “Why?”

“Because the last woman he kissed was Lana.”

Her stomach lurched.

“Oh, doona glower so.”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because Alexander saw the kiss.” He threw out his arms. “It's likely why we are here. Exiled. It's really rather funny, if you think about it.”

She would not think about it. “I believe it proves my point. He is a faithless philanderer.”

“He isna. I know for a fact, while he's kissed many women … he hasna been in a relationship for a long time. Since…” His eyes narrowed. “Since he returned from Perth, in fact. Something happened there that changed him.”

Aye. He fell in love with Kirstie Gunn. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to know. You need to give him a chance.”

Hah!
She gave him a chance six years ago and he nearly destroyed her.

Hamish's expression firmed. “He's a good man, Susana.”

She snorted.

“He needs this.”

Something in his tone captured her attention. “He needs this?” This … what?

“He needs a chance to prove himself to his brother. He feels he owes Alexander a debt. It's been a heavy weight on his soul his whole life. He sees this opportunity as a chance to … pay him back.”

“For what?”

“For saving his life. A man has to feel like a man, Susana.”

She frowned at him.

“Take my advice. Take the time to get to know him better. You'll find he's not the man you think he is.” He turned away, and then stopped. “And Susana?”

“Aye?”

“You need to tell him the truth about Isobel.”

Ach. He was right. Damn him to hell. He was right.

A pity she didn't have the courage to do so.

She sighed as she watched Hamish make his way toward the castle.

She was tired of it all, of this battle between Andrew and herself. Or perhaps it was her inner battle she was tired of. She wasn't a fool. She knew her resistance stemmed from her fear of being used by him; her desire for just that annoyed her mightily. It created in inner turmoil that kept her awake at night.

Or perhaps that was simply hunger. For him. Spurred by the parade of memories from that enchanting affair so long ago, and the kisses they'd shared so recently.

Her logical mind advised that she avoid him like the plague, but her body wanted something else entirely.

A tantalizing thought bubbled in her brain. It wouldn't be silenced.

She leaned back and stared at the panoply of colors that was the waning day, a kernel of an idea sprouting in her head.

What if
he
wasn't the one doing the using? What if she seduced him? Took what she wanted? How would she feel about it then?

The more she thought on it, the more convinced she became that it was an excellent notion. Why should
she
not take what she wanted? He would surely give it.

She was a grown woman. With a child. Hardly a maiden. Hardly a green girl who would fall in love with a man just because he'd kissed her. Seduced her.

Surely she was stronger than that. Surely she'd been through enough to know better than that.

If she wanted to seduce a man, she could.

And as for the fear that he could take what he wanted and walk away … Well, so could she.

She could be heartless, too.

*   *   *

Andrew decided to spend the time remaining before dinner with Hamish in Magnus's study, scouring maps of the castle and outlying grounds, making note of where he'd seen weaknesses in the defenses. Alexander was counting on him. And as far as that went, Andrew had no doubt he could prove himself worthy. He was nothing if not skilled in battle strategy.

After his realization yesterday that he would be a fool to wait for any support from Susana, he'd met with Hamish and his men, including the men Alexander had previously sent to Dounreay. Using what little information they had gathered, and what he'd learned from Keir, Andrew had formed an estimation of the current defenses. It was not impressive. They had developed a preliminary plan of action and set those changes in motion. Now it was time for a deeper assessment.

As they entered the study, Hamish grinned at him; the mischief in his expression was difficult to ignore. “What?” Andrew clipped.

Hamish stroked his beard and shrugged. “Nothing.”

“I know that look. It's not nothing.”

“I just had an … interesting conversation with our hostess.”

Andrew snorted. She was hardly hospitable. And then curiosity prickled. “What did you talk about?”