Highlander's Challenge (8 page)

Her body stiffened as she lifted those fiery emerald eyes to his. "Touch me and you're dead meat." Gritting his teeth, he said, "I have no desire tae ravish you, you twit." No, he wanted much more. He wanted to savor every inch of her freckle-laced skin, to watch her faceted eyes spark with passion, and feel her long firm legs wrap around him and hold him tight while he slid into heaven. He growled softly as he took the shift from the bed. He'd been too long without a woman. Being attracted to this witch was proof of that. Yet barmaids and the like were, of late, not to his liking. Nor did he wish to scatter the countryside with his bastards. He would have to wait until his wedding night to relieve his discomfort, a good plan, albeit a painful one. 70

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"This goes on first." He shoved the undergarment toward her.

One reddish brow rose, as did her chin. "I knew that." The corner of his mouth twitched with the desire to grin at her blatant lie. He admired the woman's spirit, but couldn't allow his feelings to soften toward her. He knew nothing about her, other than she stirred his blood and his ire to the point of insanity.

Her head popped free of the shift and his eyes latched on to her bouncing ringlets as the glow from the hearth set fire to her hair. How on earth had he mistaken her for a lad?

"Somehow I get the feeling you're not here to play valet," she said, crossing her arms firmly beneath her breasts. He narrowed his eyes, tamping down the urge to throttle her. "You are not tae leave this room. There will be a guard posted at your door in case you've other ideas." She shook her head slowly, her jaw tight. "You can't keep me prisoner. Not indefinitely."

He leaned closer, tempting his resolve not to wrap his fingers around her pretty little neck. But to strangle her or to simply feel the softness of her skin? "I have no intention tae, but I'll not have you roaming about the castle until I know who you are and why you're here."

"I already told you."

He snorted. "You were looking for a castle that doesna exist. Which means, you're either daft or lost. I have not ruled out the first, but you dinnae seem like the kind of lass tae lose her way."

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She smirked. "Gee whiz. That almost sounded like a compliment. My heart's all a flutter." He breathed deeply, reining in his anger. "You need tae curb your tongue, woman, before you find yourself in trouble."

"And who's going to make me? You?" She snickered softly.

"I seem to remember taking you down without any trouble."

"Luck."

"Ha! You're just too proud and too stubborn to admit you were bested by a woman. Typical." She turned back to the bed and gathered up the skirt.

He snagged her arm and jerked her back around, his nose mere inches from hers. "You'll do as I say, and I'll not have any of your sass." He noted the well-toned muscle surrounding strong bone before she pulled free. And her scent, heaven save him from the soft womanly fragrance teasing his nose.

"Listen carefully, Sasquatch. I don't take orders from you or anybody else. Those days are long gone. If you don't like it, I'll be happy to leave."

"And go where? Back tae your henchmen in the wood?" He didn't know why he said it, he felt certain she wasn't in league with the MacKenzies, her confusion earlier said as much. But he couldn't seem to hold his tongue where she was concerned. Or perhaps he was trying to convince himself she was trustworthy because he wanted her. Either way, the woman was going to cause him nothing but grief. With an exasperated huff, she threw up her arms and stomped toward the fire. "I did not have anything to do with 72

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that ambush!" Spinning around, she fisted her hands on her hips. "I saved your stubborn hide and that pretty-boy friend of yours. A fact you seem to have conveniently forgotten." He used every ounce of his strength to ignore the silhouette of her shapely body clearly displayed through the shift from the firelight behind her.

"I forget nothing." But he sorely wished he could. Storming out the door, he heard her throw words at him no woman should know, much less use.

What in the name of Heaven had possessed him to confine her to the bedchamber? He wanted her out of his life and far away from Arreyder Castle. And yet, wasn't it wise to keep his enemy close where he could watch them?

Raking his fingers through his hair at his vacillation, he barked down the stairs for one of his men and gave him explicit instructions to guard their guest. He would discover her real reason for being there soon enough. She was hiding something, she had to be. Why else would she travel dressed as a man? Then again, perhaps she was running from someone. The MacKenzies? Nay, it didn't make sense. Her confusion when he'd mentioned them was too clear, or else she was a fine performer. Disgusted with the mounting questions he could not answer, he turned down the corridor toward his father's quarters. He needed to find out what had transpired since his absence. The puzzle of the she-devil would have to wait.

"Pretty-boy," he snorted softly, her words coming back to nag him. All women found Ian handsome, especially in comparison to his own rough visage. It wasn't anything new, 73

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but it rankled just the same.

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Tuck stared at the door MacLean had slammed in his wake.

"Ogre," she grumbled, having used up all her more colorful names to call him.

Yanking the skirt up over her hips, she grimaced as she brushed her fresh bruises with her knuckles. What she wouldn't give for a hot soak and a jumbo size bottle of painkillers.

She belted the skirt into place then struggled into the bodice. Although she loosely tied the laces, the stupid thing cut her air off. Apparently Elspeth's sister was a bit on the small size in the chest.

Realizing she'd have to lose the sport bra for the extra room, Tuck stripped down to nothing but her panties. She stretched and shivered from the chill still lingering in the air, then dressed in a hurry, keeping an eye on the door. She wasn't sure if her jailer would burst in again. The way he'd stared at her, cataloged every inch of skin, warmed her in ways she'd never dreamed of before. Never had she reacted so strongly to a man, but then few men had ever bothered to look at her twice.

She'd been on a few dates over the years, usually army acquaintances, but she'd never given them much thought. They were good company, they had a lot in common, but she never let things end up in bed.

As if, she thought with a small snort. They weren't really interested in getting into her pants. She was more like one of the guys to them, a buddy, a pal. But even if they did have 75

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sex on the brain, she would never ever let a man take control of her that way. She'd won her freedom, and she refused to hand it over to anyone.

Convincing herself that her sexual reaction to the ogre had been a fluke and wouldn't happen again, she finished dressing. Her ensemble complete, Tuck glanced down at her chest, amazed to see so much cleavage. "Wonderful. An antique push-up bra."

She gazed longingly at her comfortable sport bra draped over the chair, but figured breathing placed higher than general comfort, and resigned herself to her new rig. For the moment. She was not traipsing around in a dress for longer than her clothes took to dry, regardless of what the locals thought.

She quickly tied her knife sheath high on her thigh then patted down the skirt. Not bad, but if she bumped into someone they'd feel it, so she'd have to be extra careful. Lifting the tartan from the foot of the bed, she draped it over her shoulders as she'd seen Elspeth do. At least she'd be warm, with the exception of her nether draft. She looked down at her hiking boots sticking out from beneath the skirt with a smirk. They didn't exactly go with the outfit, but there she drew the line. Quaint little leather slippers in place of her boots and thick wool socks were not going to keep her feet warm.

How the villagers she'd seen with no shoes at all could stand the cold was a mystery, but then she'd been in some pretty uncomfortable situations herself over the years. A person could get used to a lot when they didn't have a choice. 76

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Trudging through mud and muck, over desert and through jungles, she'd had more than her fair share of roughing it. This was a tea party compared to some of the places she'd been. With the exception of the date.

Tuck shook her head at the thought. It just didn't make sense, and yet that ambush was like nothing she'd ever encountered. Those men weren't the kidnappers, and the landscape wasn't what it should be. Nothing was. But time travel?

Even if it was possible, why would she travel back to 1584? What was so special about that year? And why her?

Was someone guiding this kooky train she was on or had she fallen down a wet version of a rabbit hole?

Letting go of questions she couldn't answer, she focused on the facts. She had to find a way back to where she belonged, and to do that she had to escape. But go where?

That stupid fountain at Raghnall Castle was her only lead. But assuming she was actually in 1584, the darn thing didn't even exist yet. Her only option was to inspect the small field where this nightmare had started.

Moving to the door, she gently eased it open and came face-to-face with a guard. He looked at her blankly then casually crossed his arms as he took a firm stance in the doorway.

Tuck sized him up and, although he was a big one, she knew she could take him out. However, she needed to do a little recon before she made her move, and decided it wouldn't be wise to jump the gun on her escape. The castle didn't appear to be laid out exactly as it had been when she 77

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toured it with Jenny, and she was currently in the section that had been off limits. She didn't need to come up on a dead end with the ogre of the hill in pursuit. A hike through the woods in a dress didn't sound very appealing either. With a slight nod, she closed the door, then wandered over to the window and waited. Looking out over the landscape, her thoughts went back to the moments before she landed in the fountain. She'd listened to Jenny tell her fairy story then they'd tossed pennies into the fountain.

"I couldn't have wished myself here," she mumbled. No, that would be too easy, and her gut kept telling her it had something to do with that fairy story.

"Oh, if only I'd paid closer attention." But then how could she have known that Jenny's lectures would ever be of any help to her? Being tossed back in time wasn't exactly an every day occurrence.

Or was it? Had others traveled through the centuries? Was she one of a select few? If so, why her and why now? She didn't like the idea that there was an unknown agenda somewhere with her name at the top of the page. Leaning against the windowsill, she let out an exasperated breath and plopped her chin in her hand. A curl dangled in front of her eyes and she blew at it, but it only bounced back into place.

Taking her frustrations out on her hair, she ruthlessly shoved it back, trying to put it in some sort of order. But no such luck. With her cap still damp from the rinsing she'd given it, and without a hair band to pull her curls back into a stubby pigtail, she was stuck wearing it down. 78

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She hated wearing it down, and the damp air only made it curl more. She felt like Shirley Temple. One more thing to irritate her already frazzled nerves.

Crossing the room to where her jacket hung on a peg, Tuck pulled out several Gummy Bears. At least they'd survived the trip. It would've been hell to go through this wacko ride without her addiction. Once she checked on Ian, she'd do some of her Tai Chi exercises as well. She had to steady herself before she made her next move. Holding on to her sanity was a must, if she wanted to get back to her time. Her job, her future, and Jenny's life were at stake.

* * * *

Colin entered his father's chamber, bewildered to find Maighread at his side by the fire urging him to sip some concoction she no doubt had brewed. Douglas's gaunt face and weathered features struck him hard. This was not the man full of life and vigor Colin had left behind months before.

"What ails you, Da?" he said, taking the chair opposite him before the hearth.

Glazed eyes looked up from the flames. "Colin? Is that you, lad?"

"Aye. I have returned."

"Returned, you say? Were you gone? I canna seem tae remember." He rubbed his forehead where his brow creased deeply.

"You must drink," Maighread said, holding the tankard to his father's lips.

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He shook his head. "Leave me be, woman." He shoved feebly at the brew.

"He's terribly ill, Colin. You must make him drink," Maighread said.

"You need tae do as the lass tells you, Da, if you are tae get well."

The old man continued to rub his wrinkled brow. "I must think, but I canna. And I'm so tired."

"Come lie down a bit," Maighread said as she helped him to his feet. "You must rest."

He felt at a loss as to what to do. Seeing his father ill was a new and unwelcome experience. He quickly stood and helped his da into bed, closely watching his face, the old man's confusion evident by his twisted features.

"What ails him?" he asked Maighread. She adjusted the coverlet and lifted her dark eyes to his.

"Did you not get word of what's happened then?" He shook his head as he watched his father's eyes glazing over as her brew performed its magic.

"I am sorry, dear. I thought you knew," Elspeth said softly as she entered the room. She crossed to the bed and rested her small hand gently on his father's brow. "We sent word, hoping 'twould find you before you returned home."