My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3) (10 page)

“Here, lass. Hold the cloth to yer face whilst I carry ye to the bed.”

Mairi’s eyes popped open to find Ronan’s concerned gaze. Her stomach churned a warning gurgle. Mairi snatched the wet cloth from Ronan and pressed it hard against her mouth. “Please go get Eliza,” she mumbled around the rag as she turned away.
I will not puke. I will not puke.
Her stomach rolled with a nauseating slosh, gearing up for round two.

“I dinna wish to leave ye like this. I worry for ye.”

Mairi pressed the cloth against her pounding temple and gripped the toilet bowl even tighter. “Please. Get. Eliza.” She shuddered back to her previously hunched position over the toilet, praying he’d go. “Please leave,” she groaned, her voice echoing hollow and urgent against the acoustics of the porcelain bowl.

“Aye, lass.” Footsteps hurried away. “I’m verra sorry.”

Mairi closed her eyes and pressed her face to her forearm, tensing until she finally heard the sound she’d been waiting for. The bathroom door quietly closing with a gentle click.

Finally. She was alone and could sing the song of the porcelain bowl in peace.

“Eat yer parritch and scones. Mairi should be down soon. She’s never been one to sleep away the day.” Eliza plopped a steaming bowl of oats in front of him. Melted butter and cream pooled in mouthwatering swirls atop the cooked grains. Another plate followed, piled high with two crusty scones, nicely golden and steaming hot as well. “Honey’s in the crock on the table. Ye’ll find more butter in yon white dish.”

Ronan stirred a spoon through the parritch, breathing in the rich nutty aroma. “Mistress Mairi may keep to her bed today. The stew didna set well with her. She was quite ill last night.”

“I doubt that the ratatouille had ought to do wi’ dear Mairi’s illness.” Eliza filled another bowl with the cooked oats and settled at the kitchen table with Ronan. “Our wee Mistress Mairi is no’ accustomed to heavy imbibing. She rarely drinks anything stronger than a bit of tea or that noxious coffee she loves.”

Ronan thought back to the previous night.
Aye.
Mistress Mairi had enjoyed several glasses of Rhenish and not a few glasses of Port. He shoveled in another hearty spoonful of parritch. They’d both emptied several glasses. It had been far easier to drink than talk. Irritation soured in his gut. How the hell could he woo the woman when he couldna think of a damn thing to say to her?

Eliza waved her spoon through the air as though it were a wand. “The two of ye merely need to relax and be open. Be honest with each other. The both of ye fret o’erly much.”

Ronan rose from the table as Mairi slowly wandered into the room.
Lore a’mighty.
His heart went out to her at her sallow appearance.
Aye.
His poor lady suffered with the bastardly feel of the day after a night spent in the cups.

“Mistress?” Ronan held out his hand.

Mairi squinted past the hand clapped across her forehead. “What?” She bit out the word as though daring Ronan to speak rashly.

“I would help ye to the table.” Ronan eased a bit closer and smiled his friendliest smile. Poor lass. Her head must be poundin’. He turned to Eliza. “Have ye no’ willow bark tea for the lady?”

Mairi waved him away and stumbled across the room to the other end of the kitchen. She kept her hand clapped over one eye as she popped open a cabinet door and pawed through the strange white bottles squatting on the shelf. “Where’s the ibuprofen, Eliza?”

Eliza pointed her spoon to a higher shelf. “Second shelf, beside the peppermint oil.”

Mairi backed up a pace, straining to see the next shelf up without letting go of her head.

“Here, lass.” Ronan pushed forward. “Allow me to help ye.” He scooped a fat white bottle off the second shelf along with a tall slender bottle made of amber glass. He held both out to her.

“Those are Eliza’s calcium tablets and her cod liver oil. Please…” Mairi snatched the items out of his hand and plunked them down on the counter. “Please just go sit down. I’ve got this.”

Eliza hooked his elbow and pulled him back to the table. “Mind my advice. Dinna poke the bear afore the bear has had her coffee.” Arching a brow higher as Mairi hissed out a string of profanity under her breath, Eliza pointed Ronan back to his chair. “Save yer hide, lad. Sit and let the bear come to ye of its own free will.”

Mairi jerked around, her red-rimmed eyes squinting into strained slits against the bright kitchen light hanging over the table. “I can hear every word you’re saying. I’ve got a hangover. I have not gone deaf.”

Ronan scrubbed a hand across his face, taking care to hide his smile. If Mairi thought he laughed at her expense, she’d kill him. Spotting a bottle of Rhenish sitting atop the counter, he plucked a cup from the hooks under the counter and poured a bit of the wine. “Here, lass. Hair o’ the dog. Have a wee splash. ’Twill make ye feel better.”

Mairi glared at him through the tangle of curls dangling across her forehead as she thumbed open a bottle and shook several of the small brown pills into her palm. She smacked the bottle atop the cabinet, briefly cringing against the sharp noise. She tossed the pills in her mouth, snatched the cup from Ronan’s outstretched hand, and upended it.

Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she gently placed the cup in the sink. “Sorry to be such a bitch. I’m going back to bed for a while.”

“Oh no.” Eliza rose from the table, wagging a finely manicured nail in the air. “Lilia forgot her laptop and she needs ye to bring it to the shop. Hie up to yer room and get on some clothes. Yer sister needs her wee computer to update her inventory.” She turned and beamed her brightest red-lipped smile at Ronan. “Chieftain Sutherland will be happy to come wi’ ye. I’m certain he’d love to see Lilia’s shop.”

Perhaps a stroll in the crisp morning air would do his lady a world of good. Ronan nodded in agreement. “Aye, Mistress Mairi. I’d be happy to accompany ye.”

“Stop calling me Mistress Mairi. It reminds me of that stupid-ass nursery rhyme.”

What the hell was the woman talking about? “Forgive me, Mist…Mairi.” Ronan bit back the words and huffed out an exasperated breath. He had to get Mairi back to his time. Perhaps there he could properly woo her. He didna care overly much for this era. He needed the surety of his own world about him. He looked to Eliza for help.

“Mairi!” Eliza grabbed hold of Mairi’s arm and firmly scooted her toward the staircase. “Shame on ye for such rudeness toward a guest. Hie yer arse up those stairs and when ye come back down, bring a bit of civility wi’ ye.”

Mairi yanked her arm free of Eliza’s grasp, whipped her hair out of her eyes, and glared across the room at Ronan. “Sorry,” she hissed out in a venomous tone that suggested otherwise.

Ronan acknowledged the forced apology with a brief nod.

As the hard thudding of Mairi’s stomping feet progressed up the stairs, Eliza turned back to Ronan. “Let that be a lesson to ye. Ply the woman with liquor at night and face a snarling banshee the next morn.”

“The woman plied herself. I had naught to do with it.” Ronan scooped his plaid from the hook beside the door and shrugged his colors about his body. “A bit of fresh air as we walk to Mistress Lilia’s shop shall do our fair beastie a world of good.”

“Walk?” Eliza snorted out an amused huff as she gathered the dishes from the table. “Ye’ll no’ convince Mairi to walk. ’Tis over three city blocks to Lilia’s shop and the season has gifted us with a bite to the air this fine morn.”

Dread tightened its claws in his gut. “Horses, then?” He prayed the old woman would agree. It had to be horses. The only other possibility struck fear into his soul.

“Oh no, m’fine brave chieftain,” Eliza said with a pointed glance at the door leading to the garage. “Yon chariot awaits. Perhaps a wee ride in the horseless carriage will goad yer wooing into the proper gear. Ye no’ have forever to win Mairi, ye ken?”

“On the contrary, old woman. I have all the time in the world. I’m immortal. Remember?” Ronan opened the garage door and peered down at the great shining beast squatting beside the stair.

“Yer Mairi is no’ immortal.” Eliza held out a square black bag to him. “ ’Tis the laptop. Dinna drop it.” She nodded her approval as Ronan clutched it gingerly against his chest. “And time grows short for the curse to be broken and the evil darkness to be permanently sealed away in its final level of hell.”

At the mention of the unnamed evil, Ronan’s blood ran cold. “Father had the witch put to death. Graham oft told me of the day he watched the wicked one held beneath the waters.”

“Pure evil is never truly destroyed as long as its incantations—its curses—remain strong and active.” Eliza’s face had grown decidedly pale beneath her carefully rouged cheeks. “It can be contained only for a while—and then great care must be taken because it finds allies anywhere it’s held. And it will wait. Patiently.” Eliza’s clasped hands tightened in front of her. “As long as the curse remains intact, the darkness knows it can rise again.”

“Rise again?” Ronan repeated the words, inwardly cringing against the possibility.

“Aye.” Eliza nodded slowly, glancing toward the stair as Mairi stomped her way back down. “We’ve no’ much time, my chieftain. On with it now, afore it’s too late for us all.”

Pounding headache reduced to a dull roar, Mairi pulled her sunglasses out of the tiny purse slung over her shoulder and shoved them on her face.
Of all days for Lilia to forget her stupid laptop.
Mairi pushed past Ronan and stomped down the garage steps. The only upside to having to go to the shop was that Ollie’s Grind was along the way. A double shot of the coffee shop’s strongest expresso would go a long way toward making her feel human again. She yanked open the car door and slid behind the wheel. Starting the engine, Mairi leaned forward and glanced up at the landing by the door. Ronan still stood there, staring at the car as though it were a ticking bomb.

“If you’re coming with me, come on.” Ronan didn’t move. Was it possible he couldn’t hear her over the engine? Mairi huffed out an exasperated breath, hit the button to slide down the passenger-side window and leaned closer to that side of the car. “What are you waiting for? You’ve got the laptop. Come on!”

Ronan jerked as though she’d shot him. He glanced down at the square black bag clenched between his hands then slowly pulled his gaze back to the car. The man still didn’t move a muscle. Just stood there with an
oh HELL no
look on his face.

Mairi impatiently tapped her thumbs against the steering wheel. Had she really been that big of a bitch this morning? Was he afraid to get in the car because he didn’t want to experience the brunt of her hangover fury again? She rewound the morning in her mind, cringing at the memory of how she’d behaved in front of this man she barely knew. The man who hadn’t run away when she’d drank her way to puking level. He’d stayed at her side and seemed genuinely concerned for her welfare. He’d even gone so far as to wet a cloth with cold water and press it against the back of her neck while she tried to recover.

Mairi leaned her head on the headrest. No wonder he was afraid to be trapped in a car with her. Look how snarky she’d been after he’d treated her so kindly. Mairi switched the engine off and got out of the car. She pulled her sunglasses off and hung them by the earpiece into the vee neckline of her sweater. She wanted him to be able to see her eyes when she apologized—genuinely apologized this time.

Stopping just one step below him, Mairi held out her hand. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch. Come on. I promise it’s safe to ride with me now.”

Ronan stared down at her hand. He cleared his throat and nodded as he took hold of it and gently squeezed. “Ye were nay a bi…unkind.” The hint of a smile pulled at one corner of his mouth as he stepped down beside her and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. “Ye were unwell. That is all.”

Mairi’s heart double-skipped with a faster beat, whether from Ronan’s kind words, the huskiness of his voice, or the warmth of his touch, she didn’t know nor really care. All she knew for certain was life seemed a lot more worth the effort whenever he was around. “You’re very kind. And I’m still sorry for the way I behaved.” She tugged on his hand. “Now come on. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee on the way to Lilia’s.”

Ronan followed her down the steps but pulled to a stop when they drew even with the car.

“What’s wrong?” Mairi opened the passenger-side door then slid the laptop bag off Ronan’s shoulder and placed it in the backseat.

Ronan stared at the car and backed up a step. The poor man looked as though he feared the car was some strange monster about to swallow him alive. “I dinna…” Ronan’s voice trailed off into a husky cough. He ran his tongue across his lips and shook his head. “I dinna…ride…well.”

Mairi noted the pallor around Ronan’s mouth. Poor man. He definitely seemed a bit green around the gills. “Oh, motion sickness. I understand completely. My sister Kenna heaves at the drop of a hat no matter what kind of vehicle she rides in.”

“Aye.” Ronan abruptly bobbed his head up and down in agreement. “Aye. Sickness. Terrible heavin’ whenever I ride.”

Mairi pulled the keys from her pocket and held them out to Ronan. “Here. You drive, then. That always helped Kenna.”

Ronan jumped back a step, holding both hands up in the air as though Mairi was attempting to hand him a snake. “Nay. I canna drive that beast. I canna do it.”

Damn. What a reaction.
Mairi glanced into the auto, her gaze landing on the gearshift situated between the two front seats. “It’s not a five speed. It’s an automatic.” Maybe that’s what scared him, and if it was, she didn’t really blame him. She didn’t like that whole-foot-on-the-clutch-then-shift-the-gear stuff either. “I know it kind of looks like a five speed, but it’s not. I promise.” She jangled the keys toward him.

Ronan backed up another step with a quick shake of his head. “Nay. I cannot.”

It was times like this that Kenna’s little trick of walking into minds would come in really handy. Mairi studied Ronan, assessing him as best she could. Rapid breathing. Pale skin. Vein throbbing in his neck. The man was about to panic himself into a stroke.

Mairi shrugged, silencing the rattling keys as she drew them away. She owed him. He’d been more than patient with her when she’d heaved her donation to the porcelain altar. “It’s okay. Calm down. I’ll drive. If you feel sick, simply let me know in time to stop so you can toss your cookies on the side of the road.”

“Toss my cookies,” Ronan slowly repeated.

“Barf.” Mairi bounced around the car and slid behind the wheel.

Ronan bent and looked at her through the open passenger door. “Barf?”

This was getting ridiculous and she was running out of terms for vomiting. “Just get in.” She patted the seat beside her. “I’ll take it slow and easy. I promise.”

Ronan’s gaze darted about the car’s interior as he slid into the seat so slowly it seemed almost painful. Knuckles white, each of his hands tensed into fists uneasily balanced atop his thighs. He lifted his chin and stared straight ahead as he spoke. “Get on with it, then. I am ready.”

“Uhm…” Mairi bit her lip. The man was terrified beyond reason. She glanced across him at the still wide-open car door then shook her head.
Nah. I better just shut it for him.
She slid out of the car and jogged around to Ronan’s side. Before shutting the door, she yanked the shoulder harness across his chest and clicked it into place. “Gotta keep you safe.” She patted his chest then closed the door. Poor man. How in the world did he ever get anywhere he needed to go?

Mairi slid back into her seat and started the engine. Ronan’s eyes widened and his hands clutched at his knees. “I promise I’ll go slow. You’ll be fine.” Mairi studied Ronan closer; cold sharp fingers of suspicion pricked her awareness like so many needles. An uneasy certainty settled across her mind. “You’ve never been in a car before, have you?”

Ronan eased in a deep breath then jerked himself back against the seat. “I’ve never been in a car…this small.”

Damn, I wish I could read your mind.
His excuse seemed plausible enough. Maybe she was being oversensitive to any particular weirdness because of her lingering hangover. “I’m a very safe driver. I promise.” She punched the button to the garage door, and watched in the rearview mirror as it slowly opened.

As she backed down the driveway and into the street, she could’ve sworn Ronan hissed something in a language she didn’t quite understand. A glance over at his wide-eyed expression confirmed it. The man was muttering a constant stream of words under his breath as he stared straight ahead.

“Are you Catholic?” Mairi paused at the intersection.

“Catholic?” Ronan’s knuckles popped in rapid succession as she took off and the car merged into Edinburgh’s busy morning traffic.

“Yeah.” Mairi nodded as she turned the wheel to the right and switched lanes. “It sounded like you were reciting a rosary or something when I backed out of the driveway.” Traffic was heavier than usual. So much for the nice quiet ride she’d promised him. The best she could do was get him there as quickly as possible.

Ronan sank deeper into the seat as Mairi pressed harder on the gas pedal and zipped down a side street. Elbows locked, he flattened his hands against the dash, bared his teeth, and closed his eyes. “Must the bastard move so rapidly?”

“Sorry.” Mairi slowed the vehicle as much as she dared in the heavy traffic. Better forget about a stop for coffee. He’d have a heart attack if she took him through the traffic at Ollie’s. “We’re almost there. You’re not getting sick are you?”

Ronan didn’t speak, just jerked his head from side to side.

“See? We’re here.” Mairi punched a button on the remote clipped to the visor. A gate comprised of glossy black ironwork obediently swung aside long enough for her to pull the car into the alley. As soon as she shut off the engine, the gate of bars slowly slid shut behind the car.

Ronan yanked at the strap across his chest, jerking frantically at the mechanism holding it in place. “I would be free of this beast. Release me at once.” The small car rocked as he thrashed back and forth.

“Ronan—stop!” Mairi shook his arm, leaning toward him to cup her other hand along his jaw. “It’s okay. I’ll get you loose. You’ve got to calm down.”

Eyes wild and strangely dark, Ronan forced his hands away from the seatbelt. A low deep growl rumbled from him as he turned his face aside, jerking away from her touch.

Mairi released the mechanism and tossed the shoulder strap aside. She had to get him out of here. His behavior worried her. She feared he was about to have some sort of seizure. She hopped out of the car and ran around to his side, yanking the door wide open. “Ronan. Breathe deep. Fresh air. Come on. We’ll walk around on the back patio for a bit and get you some fresh air.”

“What’s going on?” Lilia called from the doorway. “Is he all right?”

Ronan rolled out of the car, crouching beside the vehicle as he shuddered in deep heaving breaths. Mairi knelt beside him, laying a hand against his shoulder. The man was burning up. How could an attack of motion sickness fill him with fever?

“Dinna touch me,” Ronan growled out, shying away from her hand. “Leave me…for a bit.” His words were strained as though it took all his strength to say them. “Allow me…time…to recover.”

Mairi slowly rose and backed away. Poor man. He didn’t want her to witness him being ill. She understood completely. “I’m going to go inside. I’ll have Lilia fix some chamomile tea. Just come inside whenever you’re ready. Okay?”

Ronan held up a hand and waved her away while keeping his face turned away from her.

Mairi hurried up the stone steps to the patio, shooing Lilia back inside. “I think he’s sick and it’s about to kill his pride for us to see him that way. Come on. He’ll come find us when he’s better.”

It took every ounce of control he’d ever known to keep his wolf from taking over. Ronan sucked in great gasps of air, straining against the inner beast fighting to emerge. The unnerving ride in the wicked car had nearly pushed him too far.
Lore a’ mighty.
What would Mairi have done if he’d shifted right before her eyes?

Frigid air. Razor-sharp stones biting into his hands. Every physical sensation anchored him, gave him strength against the overwhelming urge to stretch into a loping run then throw back his head and howl.

A sharp wind scurried a tangle of twigs past him, spoke to him in hushed tones, feeding him energy from the land. Ronan finally pushed himself to his feet, staggered uneven steps forward, then flexed his chest and shoulders against the burn to drop to all fours and run.

Ronan tucked his chin to his chest, closed his eyes, and opened his mind to every thought and memory related to Mairi.
My lass will keep me human. My lass will sate my wolf.
He breathed in the warm sweet scent of her still lingering in the air. He envisioned the way her eyes crinkled at the corners whenever she smiled. Her voice. The honey of her soft mouth and the feel of her arms holding him close. Ronan sucked in a deep breath, relaxing as the raging beast inside him gradually lulled and crept back into dormancy.

Slowly straightening with the support of the brick building at his back, Ronan opened his eyes. It was over. His wolf had finally quieted back into the dark recesses of his soul. He scrubbed a hand across his face.
Lore a’mighty. I need whisky.
He wound his way up the stone steps and pushed through the door.

A high-pitched yapping cloud of fur bounced around his feet, barely warning him before the little dog grabbed hold of his trews and started growling. Ronan nudged the snarling ball of fury to one side, wrinkling his nose as he walked deeper into the softly lit shop.

Warm scents of cinnamon and cloves ushered him into the room lit with flickering candles and softly glowing globes of golden light suspended above waist-high counters littered with colored jars and neatly wrapped bundles.

Ronan made his way around the islands of spices and oils strategically scattered about the high-ceilinged spacious shop. “Mairi?” His voice echoed over the soft music floating through the void as the heels of his boots clicked against the honey-colored wood floor.

“We’re back here.” Mairi pushed through a beaded curtain sparkling iridescent in the soft lighting. “Are you feeling better? We’ve got some weak tea ready that’s guaranteed to settle your stomach.”

Weak tea? He didna need a weak tea. He needed a healthy dram of whisky. Ronan swiped his damp palms down the rough seams of his jeans then rubbed his hands together. “Aye. I am much better than before.” Still dragging the little dog attached to the hem of one leg, Ronan made his way back to the privacy of the room set off behind a beaded curtain.

“Buzz!” Lilia hurried forward, scooped one hand under the little dog, and disengaged his teeth from Ronan’s pant leg. She lifted the snarling little fur ball to eye level and shook a finger in his face. “We don’t latch onto friends or family. Remember?” The pup’s tiny pointed ears drooped as he bowed his head and whined. Lilia’s stern expression immediately softened and she cuddled him under her chin.

“Buzz?” Mairi cast a sideways glance at the dog tucked against Lilia’s neck as she took Ronan by the hand and led him to a small table situated in the corner of the room.