My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3) (5 page)

BOOK: My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3)
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Mairi stood frowning at him, one of her hideous furry shoes tapping the floor. “I’m going to throw on a pair of jeans and run to the market. You don’t need to eat people food anyway. I’ll get you a big bag of dog food and be right back.” She reached down and fluttered her fingers through his ruff. “Maybe they’ll even have some chew bones. I promise I won’t be gone long.” She gave him one last pat between his ears and scampered up the staircase.

As the black and white striped slippers disappeared from view, Ronan came to a decision. As soon as Mairi was out of the house, ’twas time to release his soul and resume the form of a man. Dog food indeed.

Chapter 4

The overpowering scent of rosewater and talcum powder invaded the kitchen like a noxious cloud. The source of the smell plowed through the swinging half door with quick, clicking steps. “Merciful heavens.” The woman’s eyes widened as her gaze locked on Ronan.

Ronan rose from the floor, stretched to his full height, and rolled his shoulders, shaking free the last vestiges of flaming energy rippling across his flesh.
Much better
. ’Twas time to embrace the task at hand as a man.

“Lord ha’ mercy on all our souls.” The older woman, short of stature and painted brighter than a king’s favorite courtesan, stood with one bejeweled hand pressed to her ample bosom. Her cherry red lips puckered and twitched as her wide eyes swept an appreciative glance up and down his unclothed body. “Not that I’m offended, mind ye, but yer bare as the day ye were born. D’ye truly think it best that ye introduce yerself to our Mairi in such a way?”

“Ye must be the one Granny Sinclair said was caretaker to her granddaughters.” Ronan stepped forward, acknowledging her presence with a curt bow. “Eliza MacTavish?”

Eliza nodded as though polite naked men stood in her kitchen every day. A hint of a smile lifted one corner of her mouth as her gaze dipped back down below Ronan’s waist.

Ronan primly clasped his hands over his cock. Apparently, this woman had no shame. “Nay. I dinna ken it best to meet my future wife in such a state. I’d welcome yer help in finding some proper garments. It appears the items I brought wi’ me have gone astray.” Well, not actually astray. His parcel was still stuffed deep inside the hedge back at the hillside where he’d arrived. But he couldna verra well acquire it.

One of Eliza’s painted brows arched a bit higher. “Nia warned me yer arrival would be a bit unorthodox, but she failed to mention ye’d come as a naked shape-shifter.”

“I’m no’ a shape-shifter. I merely have wolf’s blood coursing through my veins.”

Eliza spared him a look that clearly said she thought him a liar. “Splitting hairs.” She yanked open a low cupboard wedged beneath the stair. With a huffing grunt, she worried free a cloth bundle stuffed among the shelves. “No’ a shape-shifter, eh? Then pray tell where is the wee wolfie whose toenails were a clickin’ about my kitchen but a few moments ago?” She toddled a few steps toward him then lobbed the bundle toward his chest. “And the room still smells of wet dog.”

“ ’Tis part of the curse, woman. Surely, Granny Sinclair told ye.”
Wet dog. How dare she?
Ronan caught the bag and worked his fingers up and down the strange strip of metal bits sewn into the seam of the canvas bag.
What the hell?
He palmed and squeezed the bundle, yanking at its sides. The bag felt as though it was filled with clothing but how the devil was he supposed to get inside it? “What trickery is this? Ye give me clothes but ye trap them in a sack with no opening?”

Eliza toddled over to him, all the while making a low chortling sound that greatly resembled the clucking of a nesting hen. “Gi’ me the wee bag.” She snatched the bundle from his hands and, with a swift pull, the metal seam of the bag split open. “Here. ’Tis called a zipper. The contraption cinches garments much better than laces—but take care. Whenever the wee beasties malfunction, they can be a feckin’ snarl, and gnaw into whatever gets in their path.” Her gaze dipped back down to his crotch and she softly laughed. “Mind yer finer parts, m’chieftain, whenever ye don those trews.”

Ronan backed up a step and fingered the strange thing called a zipper. He pulled the tab as Eliza had done and the seam closed.
Ingenious.
He slowly pulled it back open. What simple wonders the future held. He went to pull the zipper closed again.

Eliza smacked the top of his hand. “Ye’ve no time for that. Ye best be gettin’ yer arse in those clothes. Mairi willna be gone long and we’ve yet to decide on how best to introduce ye.”

“I’m no’ a lad to be rapped across the knuckles.” Ronan glared at her and zipped the bag shut again. He’d do as he damn well wished. The old woman best learn that straightaway.

“Then stop behavin’ like one.” Eliza shoved the bag of clothes up to his chest. “Get dressed. Now.”

Ronan plopped the bag atop the table and pawed through the contents. He pulled free a heavy pair of dark trews and a shirt made of material so slick it slipped through his hands like liquid. “How did ye come to have these clothes? They’re nay mine, but their colors match the somber shades of m’plaid.” He dipped into the bag again and came up with a fine woven plaid, rich and dark in his own colors. “And this? Explain. Now.”

“Mind yer manners. I willna be ordered about within me own house.” Eliza didn’t bother looking at him, just flipped open the lid of a shining kettle and filled it with water. “I speak to Nia often. She knew exactly what ye would need and I took care of the rest.” She clapped the lid shut, set the kettle atop what appeared to be a black iron grate, then muttered something as she twisted a knob alongside the grating. A quiet
click click click
sounded, then a ring of blue flames whooshed into existence beneath the kettle.

“Witchery.” The word escaped him with a startled hiss. Ronan sidled around to the other side of the table, all the while keeping his gaze locked on Eliza. “Mother Sinclair didna say ye were a witch.”

Eliza waved his words away as she hooked her plump fingers through the handle of an overhead cabinet and yanked the door open. “Calm down, my fine chieftain. While ’tis true I am a witch, this has nothing to do with witchcraft. ’Tis just a gas stove.” She wagged a warning finger at him as she selected several items from the cupboard. “Now get dressed. Mairi willna be long at the market.”

Ronan stepped into the trews and pulled them up his body. A bit tight. He frowned down at the coppery zipper. Eliza’s warning flashed through his mind as he ran his thumb down the rough metallic teeth. He carefully tucked his parts out of harm’s way then pulled the wee beastie closed. Ronan shook out the quicksilver tunic and pulled it on over his head. The black material stretched taut across his chest like a second skin.

“Oh my.”

Ronan glanced up. Two patches of bright pink highlighted each of Eliza’s wrinkled cheeks. “What ails ye, woman?”

Eliza licked her lips and fanned herself with one hand. “I do believe yer even more impressive dressed. If I were a few years younger…”

Ronan flexed his bare feet against the smoothness of the cold floor. He didna care o’ermuch for the hungry glint in Eliza’s eyes. Best distract the old witch. “Boots, woman. What about m’feet?”

Eliza blinked as though waking from a trance. “Boots?”

“Aye. Boots?” Ronan upended the canvas bag and shook it over the table. “There’s nary left but wool socks and the plaid.” Ronan fingered through the articles. Fine wool. Precision stitchery. Perhaps all wasna lost in the future. It appeared craftsmen had honed their skills to a remarkable level.

Eliza threw her hands in the air as though someone had goaded her with a hot brand. “Boots! I canna believe I forgot the boots.” She tapped her chin as she frowned and glanced around at all the lower cabinets lining the walls. “Where the devil did I put them? Nia sent ye a fine pair and I had to hide them from the girls.”

Eliza slowly circled the room. A knowing smile brightened her face as she rolled a cloth hamper out of a cluttered corner and revealed a pair of black boots. “Ye see? Nia thought of everything.”

Those were his best boots. His boots. The boots old Thalus had made for him with the costly hide Chieftain Gray MacKenna had sent to Draegonmare along with a pair of fine horses as thanks to Ronan for ensuring the duel with his man-at-arms Colum went as his wife’s sister Kenna wished. “How the hell did Mother Sinclair get her hands on me finest boots?”

Before Eliza could answer, a sharp thud sounded somewhere in the house. “Oh Lord. That was the front door. It has to be Mairi and we’ve nay spared a moment to work out yer introduction.”

Ronan wadded up the empty canvas bag, grabbed hold of the socks and plaid, and bounded across the room. “She left but a few moments ago. Surely, ’tisn’t the Lady Mairi.”

Eliza short-stepped to the kitchen door, glanced up and down the hallway, then hurried him toward the boots. “There’s no time to argue the point. Get yer socks and boots on and prepare yerself. Whatever I figure out t’tell Mairi, just agree with it. ’Tis our only hope. Now hurry up. We’ll take the back way to the parlor.” She pointed to a small door inset beside the swinging kitchen doors she’d come through earlier. “There. It’s the hidden hallway intended for servants long ago. Hurry now!”

Ronan yanked on the socks then shoved his feet into his boots. There. At least he was dressed. “This must go well,” he said as he opened the small door and bent to enter the damp musty passage.

“It will,” Eliza promised. She shooed him deeper into the hallway. “Now haul arse. She mustn’t find us in the kitchen. I can stall her a wee bit at the door but not long.”

Chapter 5

Mairi shoved the cloth handles of the totes back over one shoulder, twisted the knob, and bumped the door again with her hip. What the heck was the deal? It wasn’t locked. The knob turned in her hand and the latch clicked its usual
I’m open, come in
. The bright red door bounced against the threshold but remained firmly closed. The one drawback she’d found to living in Edinburgh was the way the damp weather, especially in winter, made doors swell and stick. But this was the first time the front door had ever been this difficult to open.

“Eliza!” Hooking the handle of her umbrella over the iron railing hemming in the narrow landing, Mairi pounded on the door. “Come open the door. It’s stuck or something.” Mairi took a step back and waited, straining to hear any sign of movement on the other side. The house was quiet. All she heard was the gentle clicking of the out-of-balance ceiling fan whirring in the foyer. Eliza must have gone to Lilia’s shop for the afternoon.

Mairi propped her shoulder against the door again and shoved. This time it flew open so fast, she stumbled into the hallway and bounced off the opposite wall. All the totes went flying, spewing their contents across the polished entryway tiles. The bag of dog food hit the floor so hard one of the seams split and kibble bounced in all directions.

“Dammit to hell.” Mairi dropped to her knees and started scooping up dog food. “What a freakin’ mess.”

A quiet clearing of a throat sounded from the direction of the partially closed parlor door to her right. Mairi paused from crawling around on all fours.
That sounded like Eliza.
She rolled back on her heels, balancing the tote of retrieved dog food bits atop one knee. Curiosity tweaked her senses as she watched for any indication that the door might open wider. Had Eliza actually taken one of her
benefactors
into the parlor instead of having them go directly to her private quarters on the fourth floor?

While Eliza was probably as old as Granny, some undefined age between eighty and ninety, the flamboyant matron still excelled at finding rich gentlemen to keep her in the comfortable manner she preferred.

Mairi had never actually met any of Eliza’s
benefactors
, as the older woman preferred to call them, but Eliza had let enough information slip about her method of supporting herself that Mairi couldn’t help but admire her elderly guardian. Very selective and always discreet, Eliza somehow kept her chosen gentlemen so enraptured, they happily kept her well funded and housed. Mairi didn’t judge Eliza for her means of getting by. She just silently wished she knew some of Eliza’s secrets when it came to handling men.

Casual dating was easy enough—as long as she didn’t bring them home and submit them to Eliza’s scrutiny—but actually forging a close relationship scared the living crap out of Mairi. To get close, you had to share secrets…truths. The Sinclair family secrets tended to be a little difficult for the average guy to accept. She’d made that mistake once. Mairi shuddered at the memory. She’d never forget the look of
oh my God, she’s a freakin’ loon
on Jason’s face when she’d hinted at her heritage. Mairi blinked away the uncomfortable memory as she retrieved a dented can that had rolled into a corner. She dropped the tin of dog food into the tote and rose from the floor.

“Mairi? Could ye come in here, love? I’ve someone I’d like ye t’meet.”

Scooping up the remaining totes, Mairi hooked them over one arm.
Hmm…must not be a benefactor.
“I’ll be right there.” After she fed her new friend. The longing in the poor stray’s eyes had melted her heart. The poor thing had to be starving. Eliza’s guest could wait. Her hungry new dog could not.

Mairi pushed through the swinging kitchen door and plopped her bags down on the table. A niggling of concern filled her as the clunk of the dog food cans echoed through the empty room. Her furry friend wasn’t in the kitchen. He must’ve decided to go exploring—probably searching for food.
The poor thing.

Mairi peered up the open stairwell at the back of the kitchen. “Come’ere, puppy.” She made kissing noises then strained to listen for the slightest hint the dog was anywhere near. Nothing. Nary a shuffle nor click of a single toenail. Mairi emitted a low whistle then called out again. “Where are you, buddy? Come on. I’ve got some supper for you.” She scooped up the tote containing the loose kibble and rattled it toward the stair. “Come on, big guy. It’s beef-flavored. Num-nummy.” All Mairi heard was a gust of wind rattling against the kitchen window.

The longer Mairi stood holding the bag of dog food, the lower her spirits sank. A kernel of suspicion took hold and quietly germinated at the back of her mind. The house was empty. If the dog had been in any of the rooms, Mairi felt sure her calls would’ve elicited some sort of response. If the dog wasn’t in the house, how had he gotten out? Mairi turned and glared down the hallway at the parlor door.

Eliza preferred cats to dogs, but surely she wouldn’t have turned him out while Mairi was gone. Granted, the stray was a large dog, but from everything Mairi had seen, he was gentle as a lamb.

Mairi yanked open the door leading out to the tiny patio and fenced-in yard, squinting through the heavy sheets of sleet-filled rain. The backyard was empty too. Mairi slammed the door closed and whirled back around. “Surely, she didn’t. Eliza wouldn’t do that.”

A volatile mixture of frustration, disappointment, and lack of sleep from the night before took over. In the short time she’d been around the dog, she’d become strangely attached to the animal. She felt like she’d finally found someone to love and confide in—someone who would neither judge her nor run screaming for the hills when they found out who…and what…she really was. The culmination of the dangerous mix of emotions stung her eyes with the threat of tears.
Dammit to hell.
When her anger spiked out of control she cried, and crying pissed her off even more. She dropped the sack of kibble to the floor and watched the brown chunks scatter and bounce across the tiles. This is bullshit.

Mairi charged down the hall, threw open the parlor door, and barreled into the room. Eliza had some explaining to do.

Eliza was ensconced in her favorite armchair like royalty holding court. Her ring-laden fingers fluttered with a slow bored rhythm atop the plump arms of the red sateen chair. She wrinkled her well-powdered nose as she slowly removed her rhinestone-encrusted reading glasses, folded them closed, and set them in their crystal dish on the mahogany table beside her. She didn’t speak—just folded her hands atop her rounded middle and studied Mairi with an imperious expression that shifted Mairi’s irritation into a higher gear.

“What the hell did you do with my dog?”

Eliza didn’t respond. Her lips pressed into a more pronounced line of disapproval. Without batting an overly long false eyelash, she arched a brow and inclined her head toward the other side of the room.

“What?” An annoyed huff escaped Mairi. “I’ve had just about all the bullshit I can take for one…” The rant she was about to unleash disappeared, evaporating like a mist hit full-on with the heat of the rising sun. Her mouth slightly ajar, Mairi caught her breath and swallowed the rest of her tirade as her attention locked on the target of Eliza’s gaze.

The silent man dominated the far corner of the parlor, miniaturizing all else in the room. Standing with booted legs widespread and hands clasped to the small of his back, he appeared as focused as a predator—a powerful mesmerizing hunter exuding an air of strength and primal sexuality.

Although his close-cropped hair was so blond it appeared almost white, his attire as well as his stance projected an air of darkness and mystery. Layers of muscle rippled beneath the sheen of the black shirt stretched taut across the endless expanse of the man’s chest.

And those legs…nicely accentuated by an impressive bulge below his low-slung belt—Mairi swallowed hard and rubbed her suddenly clammy palms against the sides of her own denim-clad thighs.
Dammit. Where has Edinburgh been hiding you?

Eliza softly coughed. “Please forgive my dear sweet Mairi. Her manners are usually much better than the slack-jawed mute ye see standin’ before ye.”

A warm flush of
oh shit
swept across her. Mairi had forgotten Eliza had a guest and here she was staring at the man as though she were about to trip him and beat him to the ground. “Uhm. Sorry to interrupt. Please forgive me.” Was this how Eliza selected her benefactors?
If it is…damnation, sign me up for this one.

The man barely smiled. His chin dipped with a polite nod. “ ’Tis my utmost pleasure to meet ye. I am Chieftain Ronan Sutherland.”

He extended an open hand to her, moving across the room with such strength and grace that Mairi lost the ability to connect with the world around her.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
The words echoed the man’s every step and the seductive play of his muscles that made her hands itch to touch him.

With a loud impatient huff, Eliza floundered free from the depths of her overstuffed chair and hurried to Mairi’s side. She pinched the tender skin beneath Mairi’s arm and whispered, “Get on with it, gal. Do ye wish the man t’think yer impaired?”

The sting of the pinch effectively snapped Mairi free of her trance. “Sorry.” She scrubbed the still-stinging flesh of her arm as she smiled and reached for Ronan’s hand. “I’m Mairi Sinclair. Sorry if I seem a bit off. It’s been a very stressful day.”

As soon as her fingers connected with Ronan’s calloused palm, a delicious surge of erotically charged energy greeted her. The powerful sensation raced through every nerve ending, imploring her to never leave. Mairi’s senses shifted to high alert. Every instinct urged her closer. Her soul sighed in relief
. Finally. Claim this one. Now.

Time slowed. Mairi grew more entranced as every sense sharpened. Ronan lifted her hand to his mouth and paused one long, breathtaking moment with his warm lips pressed against her skin. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she felt the hot moist tip of the man’s tongue flick against the top of her hand as though he tasted her. She was left with the distinct impression he was promising even better
tastings
to come.

And his eyes. Mairi struggled to breathe between the ever-increasing thumps of her pounding heart. His eyes shimmered like bottomless pools of mercury. Unabashed hunger and
I will have you
shone in the depths of his liquid silver gaze. Mairi blinked hard and pulled her hand back, pressing it tight against her middle.

Mairi shook herself free of the heated spell and edged a step back. Thank goodness Eliza was in the room. If Mairi had met the man without Eliza looking on…Mairi blinked hard against the sudden image of them sprawled in an erotic knot across the pillows of the love seat.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Had Eliza accidently slipped one of her benefactors’ aphrodisiacs into the wrong box of tea? Mairi made a mental note to interrogate Eliza about that possibility later. She had been getting pretty absentminded of late.

“Uhm.” Mairi raced the tip of her tongue across her lips. Lord have mercy, her mouth had gone dry and her nether regions had gone so wet they ached. “Uhm.” Mairi took another deep breath. He was going to think she was an idiot incapable of stringing together a multisyllablic set of words. Mairi mentally shook herself. “I’m very sorry. It really is nice to meet you, but like I said…”

Mairi glanced over at Eliza’s smug expression. The woman looked as though she’d just gotten away with stealing the crown jewels. The victorious gleam in her eyes worked wonders toward calming the confusion currently holding her ability to speak for ransom. Eliza’s self-satisfied expression was just the libido dousing of ice water she needed. Mairi took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and turned her full attention back to Chieftain Sutherland. “As I said earlier, it’s been a very eventful day.”

Ronan nodded politely. “Rest easy, m’lady. There is nothing to forgive.”

What an odd way with words. Very proper. Very…different. This was not one of Eliza’s perspective benefactors. This man was…something else.

The chieftain’s eyes seemed so familiar. But how could they? Mairi was certain she’d never met this man.
No way would I forget meeting you.
So how could she feel so certain she’d looked into those eyes before? Mairi shook herself free of the inner turmoil and backed another step toward the door.
I’ll figure it out later.

She forced her attention away from the enigmatic man and turned to Eliza. “I’m sorry I interrupted your visit. Could you step out in the hall for just a minute? I need to ask you a question.”

Eliza made the irritating clucking noise she always emitted whenever she had been pushed too far. “Absolutely not.” Latching onto Mairi’s arm, she turned her back toward the chieftain and held her firmly in place. “Chieftain Sutherland is no’ just my visitor.” Eliza tightened her grip on Mairi’s upper arm. “He’s my…distant relative.” Eliza bobbed her head up and down. “Yes. He’s one of m’few relatives. He’s traveled quite far to have a fine visit with us both.”

“How distant?” Mairi’s rooted seed of suspicion fully matured, sprouted accusing leaves, and threatened to bloom with full-blown distrust. What was up? Why was Eliza trying so hard? And what the hell did she mean by distant relative? Did she mean distant as in a
distant time
?

“A nephew.” Eliza fluffed the hot pink layers of taffeta zigzagging diagonally down the front of her tunic. “Of sorts.” She smoothed her hands down her ample hips and drummed her sparkling nail tips against her black sateen leggings. “The two of ye sit and chat while I prepare a fine tea for us to enjoy while we have our lovely visit.” Without waiting for Mairi’s acquiescence, Eliza’s four-inch wedge heels thumped out happy quick steps as she turned and hummed her way down the hall to the kitchen.

I am going to wring her neck.
Mairi turned back to Chieftain Sutherland just in time to catch the man trembling with silent laughter. So, he thought this situation was funny? Fine. Time to interrogate him and unravel Eliza’s obvious plot. Mairi waved him toward the monstrous wingback leather chair angled beside the bookcase, while she settled on the armrest of the love seat. “So, Eliza’s your aunt?”

BOOK: My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3)
10.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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