How to Marry a Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  He had not journeyed far when Dugan stopped and looked back at the trail. Images of the luscious redhead were going to haunt him, especially at night. It would be months before he had a good night of sleep again if he did not at least speak to her and confirm that she was indeed married. If he was lucky and she was not, she just might be what he was looking for, someone unknown, far enough away that they could not be clingy, and best of all, someone who could make these drudging trips to the border worth it.

  And so Dugan had returned.

  This time, however, he had made his presence known and only pretended to be unaware of her just to see what she would do. A married woman would most assuredly have immediately called out and shooed him away, making it clear that he was not wanted. But his ruadh had done the opposite. She had scrambled to hide behind a rock and then boldly stared at him. Such a reaction could mean she was an innocent, afraid of being caught, but in Dugan’s experience, a woman that beautiful did not get to her age without having caved to some man’s charm and flattery, not to mention her own basic primal desires, at some point.

  Her stare had been almost hungry in nature and his resulting arousal had forced him to seek the cold waters of the loch for relief. He was beginning to realize that his brilliant plan had not accounted for the next several days where her image would plague him each time he closed his eyes. Cole’s wife, Ellenor, would immediately recognize his distraction and she, with her inhuman sense of knowing when his distress pertained to a woman, would hound him until he admitted all. He desperately needed to learn something off-putting about the woman if he was going to have any control of his thoughts, let alone remain sane. She was beautiful, but was she dim in the mind? Perhaps she was a shrew who thought her beauty entitled her to any whim she might have? If either was the case, he could easily dismiss her mentally, despite the physical attraction.

  Dugan had slowly made his way over the large boulder she hid behind, wondering what the woman would do or say when she realized he blocked her path to the shore. The water’s temperature was bearable, but one needed to keep moving to stay warm. The place where she had escaped behind did not offer much room to maneuver, especially if her goal was to remain hidden. Soon, his ruadh would need to get out of the cold waters and into the sun. How she handled her predicament would tell him if she was a prude, a harridan, or by some miracle an unwed, willing partner open for an afternoon of pleasure. Just the possibility of the latter had him painfully hard again, despite the bitter temperature of the water.

  “That you have decided to hide behind this large rock does not compel me to leave. In fact, it does just the opposite,” Dugan called out, hoping the cold water would not stop this already refreshing conversation prematurely.

  “I don’t even know you, and yet I am not surprised by your conceited comment.”

  “Maybe you are hiding as part of a bold ploy to get my attention?” Dugan prodded, grinning with enjoyment. “Women like to play such games to attract a man’s interest. And you, aithinne, have definitely got me intrigued.”

  Adanel moistened her lips and dragged in a breath of air. It had been a long time since her temper had caused someone to call her a firebrand. Then again, it had been a long time since she had said or done anything deserving of the title to anyone, let alone a man. Every word she spoke in public was carefully chosen and stated, for showing passion was dangerous. It got one noticed, and that was the last thing she wanted to be at home. But Adanel was not at home at the present and neither was the man she was speaking to a Mackbaythe. Both facts were incredibly freeing and Adanel suddenly felt like a piece of her that had long been dormant out of a sense of survival had suddenly awoken after a long sleep.

  “What a quandary,” she said with an overly exerted sigh. “I mean I could emphatically denounce your assertion, but we both know that would only serve to encourage you.”

  Dugan let go a short laugh of pleasure. “It’s as if you have known me for years.”

  Adanel had to bite her bottom lip to keep from joining him in his laughter. The man was definitely arrogant and needed no encouragement. Somehow that, too, was freeing. “Nay. I don’t know you . . . but I have met men like you. You may be surprised to learn that as a soldier, you are not that original.”

  Dugan crossed his arms. “Hmmm. You openly tease me, so I think I will agree to play your little game.”

  Adanel’s eyes grew large, realizing what she had just started. The Mackbaythes were a small clan, but strategically located on one of the best natural seaports in north-west Scotland. She practically lived on the docks and had been surrounded by a variety of bawdy men all her life. One thing they had in common—their lust of women. Adanel knew she should stop and demand his retreat, and yet she just could not bring herself to do so. At least not yet.

  “You are correct. I am a soldier, but I can assure you that I am far from commonplace.”

  Adanel loudly clucked her tongue. “I wouldn’t say you were commonplace, for you are unusually handsome. But then again, your fetching face only makes you even more predictable. Therefore, my initial assessment stands. I find you to be . . . well, banal.”

  Dugan grinned. Ellenor, and sometimes Donald’s wife, Brighid, would tease him, but no other female had ever even tried. That this redheaded beauty thought to do so, despite being less than ten feet away without a stitch on her, was creating incredible warmth in places on his body that should have been shrinking from the coolness of the water. He could not remember the last time he had been so attracted to a woman. With every word spoken, her allure was growing, not dissipating. “I may be many things, but when it comes to women, I can be quite spontaneous.”

  This time it was Adanel who laughed. “If you weren’t so pleasing to look at, I suspect you would be very lonesome. Then again, maybe you will surprise me and prove how unpredictable you are by being a gentleman and leave so that I can get dressed? I need but five minutes and then you can have the loch and its waters completely to yourself.”

  “I’d rather be predictable than be honorable,” Dugan huffed, and a couple of seconds later added with a smile, “Then again, what kind of man would leave a woman all alone without anyone nearby? What if you were to suddenly get in trouble and needed a strong arm to save you?”

  Adanel rested her forehead on the rock. She would be tempted to continue verbally sparring with him if she were dressed and looking him in the eye. But she wasn’t, and though no longer freezing, she was exposed and uncomfortable and getting more so by the minute standing ankle deep in the cold water. “I have been coming here every week for over a year, so I am sure I will have no need of your heroism.”

  Dugan could hear that she was starting to get tired and knew she was about to cave. He was not sure why he wanted her to swim by him so much, and he would retreat if she answered his next question in the affirmative. “Does your husband know you’re here?”

  “Does your wife know you’re here?” Adanel returned, her tone laced with sarcasm.

  “I’m not married.”

  “I’m not surprised,” she groused.

  “Does your father know you’re here or are you intentionally avoiding helping out on the farm?” Dugan pressed, hoping to learn a bit more about her personality as well as if she was indeed married.

  “Clever,” Adanel responded. “My father has not cared about my affairs for years,” she said, hoping the lack of a definitive answer would nettle the man.

  “And if I were to talk to him, would he agree?”

  Adanel rolled her eyes. It was encouraging that he assumed she was either a daughter or a wife of a local McTiernay farmer. It was not a leap for him to make those assumptions, but Adanel had no intentions of correcting either of them. She also had no intentions of letting this conversation continue. The last thing she needed was for him to discover exactly who her father was.

  “Can you please leave?”

  “Aye, when I’m done,” Dugan answered, swirling his arms and causing ripples along the wate
r’s surface. “I find this loch rather refreshing today.”

  Adanel took in a deep, steadying breath. It was rare she lost her temper and yet she was seconds away from unleashing years of pent-up anger. “Then can you finish over where your horse is?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “Aye, I could but I don’t want to. I like it here. I think it’s warmer.”

  Adanel cursed under her breath. Arguing with a three-year-old was more productive. “It’s far sunnier over there,” she said, and began to study the rock face in front of her once again. If she could just find a couple of places she could grab a hold of, she could pull herself up and over. Unfortunately, she also needed to continue and distract him long enough by keeping him talking. “Here there are boulders and shade, making the water colder.”

  “You would think, but I was just over there. I am definitely feeling far warmer on this side.”

  Adanel rolled her eyes. In other circumstances, she might have found him amusing, but being only ankle-deep in the water was no longer keeping the cold at bay. “I don’t think you understand. I don’t want you here.”

  “Ah, but I think you do. Remember, I saw you spying on me.”

  “I’ve seen better,” Adanel mumbled, finding a good place for her hands.

  “Liar.”

  “Boor,” she huffed.

  “Ouch. I have manners. I could have come around but I have not out of respect for your privacy.”

  “I doubt there is one woman outside of your mother you hold in high regard.”

  “Not true. I have no liking of my mother, and there are a couple of women who have my respect.”

  “Two? Don’t they feel lucky,” Adanel said gruffly, and then began to pull herself up onto the smaller boulder.

  “Ah, but they don’t look at me the way you did.”

  Adanel took a deep breath to keep from grunting from the exertion. “That’s because they know you.”

  “Now, who’s being predictable?”

  “Women actually don’t like arrogant men.”

  “It’s not arrogance to know when a woman appreciates what she sees.”

  “Well, I looked my fill already and now I just want to get out of this loch.”

  “I’m not stopping you. You can swim to the shore anytime you please.”

  “I have no doubt that you are quite familiar with a woman’s body. Why do you need to see one more?”

  Dugan did not know how to respond. Because the truth was that from what he had glimpsed, her body was not like any other. “Fine, I promise to keep my eyes closed.”

  “Now who’s the liar?” Adanel asked as her foot searched for anything she could use as leverage to push up.

  “On my word as a gentleman.”

  “If you were truly a gentleman, you would have left.”

  “Only a happily married man would have left a beautiful naked woman alone.”

  “Why am I not shocked to learn that you are unwed?” Adanel muttered under her breath.

  “I’m not married because I choose not to be. What is your excuse?”

  “My father,” she answered simply, concentrating on the rock in front of her. “And how is it that you are not married? You certainly look and sound old enough to be a husband, and I cannot imagine you are in want for eager partners.”

  “I have yet to fall in love.”

  Adanel went a little higher and then stopped. “I have a feeling you don’t believe in the concept.”

  “Not true,” Dugan professed with such sincerity, Adanel believed him. “I’ve seen true love and the happiness it brings.”

  “So what is wrong then?” Adanel asked, looking for anything that she could grip. One more push and she would be atop the boulder. It was far mossier than she had realized, making the surface frustratingly slick. “Why are you not blissfully wed to the woman of your dreams making little soldiers who go around and antagonize women bathing peacefully in lochs?”

  Dugan heard the sarcasm and considered her question. “Maybe it is you who doesn’t believe in the concept.”

  “Not at all,” Adanel denied. “I’ve been deeply in love. Daniel was everything I ever wanted in a man and he was just as crazy about me.”

  An unexpected jolt of jealousy raced through Dugan. He did not like hearing about how much she loved another man or how her affections were returned. Then, he realized she had said was. “What happened?”

  Dugan waited several seconds in silence for an answer and was about to end this ruse and check on her when he heard a hard thud and then a splash.

  He spun around and watched in horror as her limp body sank beneath the surface.

  * * *

  Adanel slowly lifted her eyelids, trying to remember what happened, where she was, and why she was on warm, soft grass when her last memory was of being cold.

  She blinked, but it was bright, so she squeezed her eyes shut. She instinctively tried to lift her hand to block the sun, but her arm was obstructed. The soft touch of a hardened thumb caressing her cheek made her eyes pop back open. This time she saw not the sun, but the McTiernay soldier from the loch.

  “Your eyes,” she whispered. “I thought they would be green, not blue.”

  Dugan smiled, relief flooding his veins. When he had heard the sound of her head hitting the rock just before she plunged in the water, his heart had stopped. He had dived in and pulled her out almost immediately, but she had lain limp in his arms and had remained unconscious long after he had gotten her to shore. Her breathing had not been labored, so she had not inhaled much water, and he could not find any blood on her scalp from her fall, but that was not always telling. One never knew about head injuries until the person woke up . . . if they ever did.

  And then she had started shaking from the cold. Goose bumps had covered her skin and a wave of guilt overcame him for keeping her out in the cold waters for so long. He had reacted instinctively and draped his body over hers with the sole purpose of warming her as quickly as possible. But now that she was awake, he was the one getting warm and any moment she would realize it.

  “And your eyes are also a surprise,” he stated. “Large, brown, and so warm and inviting. A true contrast to your fiery hair, aithinne.”

  Adanel smiled at the compliment. She had never liked her eyes. Long black lashes framed them, which on any other woman would have been an asset. To Adanel, it made her already large eyes even larger. As to their color, it was a dull and commonplace dark brown—her only Mackbaythe feature. Otherwise, she could have passed for her mother and had more than once given a seaman who had just docked a scare, making him think that he had seen her mother’s ghost.

  Those who knew her mother used to say that Adanel was like her in spirit as well as looks. She wished she could remember, but she had been eight when her mother died and the few memories she had of her were mostly connected to a feeling of being safe, happy, and loved.

  Her mother had been twenty-six when she had left this world for the next. The same age Adanel was now. And based on rumors and tidbits she had heard over the years when people did not think she was listening, her mother had been just as miserable as she was. But at least she had two children to love and who had adored her. Adanel had nothing and would continue to have nothing if she did not find a way to escape her father.

  “Are you all right? When you fell and did not wake right away I was afraid you might be seriously hurt.”

  Adanel’s brows furrowed in confusion and then she remembered. She once again tried to lift her hand to touch where her head and the rock collided to see if it was swollen, for it did hurt, but her arm was still blocked. She tried to yank it free and looked down, suddenly realizing that he was practically lying on top of her.

  “You . . . you’re naked!” Her eyes once more darted down and then back up. “I’m naked!”

  Her announcement was greeted with a smile, but instead of triumphant arrogance like she would have expected, his eyes reflected only concern and relief. “Aye,” he affirmed, s
moothing some of her hair off her face. “You were shaking from the cold, and my body heat was the fastest way to get you warm.”

  Adanel wiggled until Dugan shifted so that she could use her hands. She placed them on his chest and gave a halfhearted push. It was hard to encourage him to move away when her body longed for not less of his touch, but more. She had only seen his chest under his léine, but now, actually feeling him, she realized she had misjudged just how wide and muscular he was. And that his chest was lightly covered with crisp brown hair, which only made his touch even more compelling.

  Keeping one leg draped across hers in an effort to keep her from rising, Dugan propped himself on one elbow and reached down to grab her fingers in his large hand. Her elusive, womanly scent was stretching his control. “Aithinne, I’m already finding keeping you warm the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. You keep wiggling that way, and I won’t be just keeping you warm.”

  Adanel swallowed, realizing what the hard thing was pressed against her hip . . . and it was getting harder. She knew she should feel mortified, and maybe she would have if she and Daniel had never been together intimately. But whatever the reason, nothing—not her nudity, the situation, or his arousal—made her want to pull away.

  Just the opposite. She wanted more.

  It had been so long since she had attracted the eye of a man. Even longer since she had desired one in return. And right or wrong, she wanted this Highlander. It did not matter that he was a McTiernay and she was a Mackbaythe. It did not matter that they had not even exchanged names. In some ways, that lack of knowledge only increased her desire.

  Adanel wanted neither a husband nor even a beau, and yet debating with this soldier had created a spark of womanly awareness in her that was growing in intensity. She wanted more of that feeling. She wanted to be reminded of what it felt like to be a woman, to be desired and pleasured . . . to feel alive.