Her Scottish Keep (Dream Come True Sweet Romance Book 1)

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Her Scottish Keep (Dream Come True Sweet Romance Book 1) Page 5

by Darci Balogh


  Her laughter dying down, Bridget sighed and wiped her eyes. "This is the best Not a Honeymoon ever."

  Tawnyetta turned her head sideways on her pillow so she was looking at her friend and grinned. "Good."

  Bridget smiled back then let her gaze move lazily across the room, fully relaxed and soaking in their surroundings. Something caught her attention and she pointed. "Look, look, look!" She scrambled off the bed and moved hastily to the corner of the room where the champagne they'd never touched was in a fresh bucket of ice.

  "They've re-iced the champagne!" Bridget declared with pleasure.

  "Perfecto!" Tawnyetta sat up on the bed. "Let's celebrate!"

  "Let's!" Bridget agreed.

  While Bridget opened the bottle and poured them each a glass Tawnyetta looked up the Backstreet Boys on her phone. She turned her speakers up as far as they would go and played Quit Playing Games With My Heart. Bridget giggled, her eyes sparkling as she handed Tawnyetta a flute of champagne.

  "To the best damned Not a Honeymoon in the history of Not a Honeymoons!" Tawnyetta exclaimed and they toasted. Then they danced around the room doing impressions of the Laird of Claymore's best move that was now burned forever into Tawnyetta's mind.

  Early the next morning, Christopher called and ruined everything.

  Chapter Six

  Tawnyetta slept through the sound of Bridget's cell phone ringing as well as the motion of her getting out of bed and answering it. What did finally wake her was the sound of her friend's agitated voice. Bridget was speaking in a controlled rage with a touch of a tremor, which hinted that she was trying not to cry.

  What time was it? Tawnyetta peered at the tall windows and knew it wasn't dawn yet. She had not yet grown used to the slow light of morning and lingering sunsets caused by the extra hours of daylight here in the Scottish Highlands. So it was difficult for her to guess at the time of day.

  "I'm not going to apologize," Bridget spoke harshly into the phone.

  Apologize? Tawnyetta, still groggy from waking, wondered who she was talking to.

  "And, no, I am not paying you back for taking this trip," Bridget continued.

  Christopher. Of course. Seriously? He was calling to harass the woman he cheated on about paying him back for taking their honeymoon without him? Anger bubbled up inside of her belly.

  Men. Tawnyetta was disgusted.

  As miffed as she was at the audacity of Christopher's phone call, as well as the inconvenient timing of it, she understood that Bridget needed her privacy. She threw on a pair of jeans, a black cotton t-shirt, and a light sweater. She had learned from her experience so far in the Highlands that always having a light sweater on hand was probably a good idea. Not too different from her hometown in Colorado.

  Tawnyetta made her way down the spiral staircase. Once again she thought how eerie a place like a castle could be when it wasn't quite daylight and there was nobody around. When she got to the Great Hall she wondered how early the staff actually rose in this place. She could go to the kitchen and see if the cook was there, maybe get some coffee. Or she could go for a stroll in the gardens.

  She stepped to one of the tall windows that looked out across the front of the estate and saw that a heavy mist still lurked in the dawning light. She delighted in being outside most of the time and was an avid hiker in the Rocky Mountains where she grew up, but something about these ancient grounds covered in a thick fog made her wary of being alone on this estate.

  With a sigh she turned back and decided to go for the coffee. Then she noticed the door to the weapons room and her interest was piqued.

  Stepping inside, Tawnyetta turned on a few of the standing lights instead of the giant chandeliers hanging from above. It seemed like a waste of energy to light the whole room just for her.

  Avoiding the suits of armor, because she had a lingering childlike fear that they may start moving, Tawnyetta meandered through the room admiring beautifully forged long swords, sabers, and daggers in the display cases. There was a rack of various weapons along one wall. She assumed these were used for practice instead of the antique specimens in the displays.

  Just for fun she picked up one of the svelte slicing sabers from the rack. The weight of it felt empowering in her hand. Still annoyed at Christopher, and men in general, she held it out in front of her and pointed it at one of the suits of armor across the room, slashing the air.

  That felt good.

  Maybe she could burn off some of this negative energy with a little swordplay exercise. Tawnyetta held the blade between her thighs to free her hands. She took off her light sweater and placed it on a nearby display case. Then she took hold of the saber properly and walked to the center of the marble floor in the middle of the room. She slashed the air a few more times before settling into an attack stance.

  Imagining Christopher standing in front of her with his dental hygienist, Tawnyetta lunged and stabbed the air. She grinned. Then she did it again, this time allowing herself to imagine flicking each button off of his shirt and slicing his cheek with a 'Z' like Zorro always did in the movies. Caught up in her imagination, Tawnyetta decided to play out a similar scenario with every obnoxious date she could remember and both of her ex-boyfriends.

  She lunged and attacked, retreated and parried, shuffling her feet back and forth as all of her fencing training came back to her through the movements. She threw in a few moves she'd seen in pirate movies and switched from her right to her left hand and back again, exercising both arms.

  After a short time she worked up a decent sweat in her T-shirt and jeans, but she was not deterred. She could take a bath later. Right now she was fighting with the demons from her past.

  Losing herself a little bit in the moment, Tawnyetta starting grunting hard whenever she lunged and calling out the names of each of her imaginary foes as she vanquished them.

  "Christopher!" She called out as she stabbed him in his belly and relished his stunned expression. Twirling around using both hands to slash at an oncoming ex who approached her from behind, she cried out, "Benjamin!" With two quick moves she had relinquished good old Ben of his sword and cut his hands so badly he could not fight back. "Freddy!" She yelled and stabbed with gusto at a particularly vile blind date who she suspected had tried to drug her drink. With a wide sweep of her saber she cut off Freddy's head and watched it roll across the marble floor.

  Ready for her next opponent, Tawnyetta threw her arm up and over her head in a wide arc, then whipped her body to follow, intending to bring the bade down hard and lunge towards the nearest suit of armor now that she was feeling brave. Instead, her blade came down with a loud smack on the forearm of Shaun. He was standing behind her in real life and had lifted his arm up in defense of her oncoming attack.

  Tawnyetta screamed and dropped the saber as soon as she felt it make contact with his arm. The blade clattered to the floor, the sound of it echoing through the largely empty room. She covered her mouth with both hands.

  "Oh my God!" she exclaimed.

  Shaun brought his arm down so she could see his expression, a mixture of surprise and amusement. He had been standing behind her watching her attack invisible opponents and shout out their names.

  He looked down at his intact work shirt, a thick black and green tartan print, and said, "I think I'll live."

  The shock of seeing him was quickly followed by embarrassment at the fact that he had been watching her. Her annoyance at all men came boiling up and bound together into a singular annoyance at this one man standing in her presence.

  "What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?" She leaned over to pick up her saber, her face flushed from the workout and the humiliation.

  "I heard a wee bit of racket in here," he replied. He stooped at the same time and swept the saber up before she could reach it. Then, with a smirk, he offered it to her, hilt first.

  She snatched it from his hands. "And so you just barged in? Do you always interrupt guests when they're in the middle of an activity?"
She tried to sound as important and affronted as possible.

  Shaun arched an eyebrow at her, his eyes twinkling at her outburst. "I try not to interrupt guests if I can help it."

  It wasn't quite an apology. She scowled at him.

  Ignoring her disapproving look, Shaun moved past her to the rack where she'd gotten her blade. The lamplight didn't reach everywhere in the room, so he stood partly in shadow as he looked at her then at the rack of weapons.

  "You fence?" He asked.

  She nodded, still glaring. Then she shrugged a little bit and admitted, "I was just messing around, though. Kind of a mix of everything."

  He gave her a cocky half-grin, "Yes, I gathered."

  "Shouldn't you be fixing a fountain or something?" She asked. Shaun didn't say anything, just watched her calmly like he had in the garden. And just like it had in the garden, standing under his gaze made her feel exposed. She needed to fill the emptiness so she asked, "Do you fence?"

  He nodded. "Yes, I do." His words rolled off of his tongue, making everything he said sound roguish.

  Tawnyetta watched as he bent his head and admired the weapons, running his finger along one of the saber handles. He was about 6'3" she would guess. And his dark beard, cut short against his chiseled features, accentuated his strapping good looks. Tawnyetta swallowed and focused on keeping up her glare.

  Shaun looked up at her, the light illuminating his deep blue eyes just enough she could see they were still twinkling. His grin turned to a mischievous smile that sat slightly crooked on his lips.

  "Fancy a duel?" he asked.

  She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "Excuse me?" She tried to sound haughty.

  "Would you like a partner...to practice?" He gestured towards the marble floor where she had been fighting pretend men.

  "You mean me and you? You and I?"

  Shaun glanced around the room then back at her. "I don't see anyone else here, do you?"

  His tone at once infuriated her and sent a shiver up her neck. She moved to the center of the marble floor and swished her blade a few times in front of her, making the shape of an 'X' in the air.

  Lifting one eyebrow at him, she answered, "Why not?"

  Before choosing a blade Shaun took off his heavy tartan shirt, revealing a navy blue V-neck cotton T-shirt underneath. His arms were tan and roped with muscle. She watched the thick muscles flex as he pulled a saber off of the rack and whipped it through the air a few times, warming up. He walked towards her wearing a cocky smile. She wanted to best him at sword fighting so bad she could taste it.

  He paused. "Shouldn't we be wearing face masks?"

  "We're just messing around," Tawnyetta answered, thinking that maybe she sounded tougher than she felt. "We'll go slow...and be nice," she warned.

  "I'll be nice," he answered. Then, under his breath and with a low chuckle, he added, "It's you I should be worried about."

  As he took up his position opposite her they held each other's gaze. He had amazing eyes and she had to remind herself to stay focused on the task at hand. They both took the on guard stance and moved slowly back and forth with each other. It had been a while since she had sparred with any kind of opponent, and this one was particularly intimidating in both size and intensity.

  She thrust at him and he knocked her blade to the side easily with his. He was strong that was for sure. But she was small and quick, and she had a feeling he may underestimate her abilities because she was a woman.

  He jabbed and she parried. Blades sliding against each other sounded slick and sharp in the echoing room. Morning rays of sun spilled gently down through the tall windows, creating large chunks of light across the marble floor. Tawnyetta and Shaun kept their attention completely on each other as they moved in a circle, kicking up tiny dust particles that floated through the sun's rays. As if dancing, they moved in and out of shadows, thrusting and parrying carefully at each other then backing away. Never breaking their gaze.

  Tawnyetta's arm was getting tired and she wondered how much longer she could keep this up, but she refused to quit. She didn't want him to win. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. The air between them sizzled with a kind of competitive sexual tension. Another reason she didn't want to stop.

  Her breath was coming more quickly now, partly from fatigue and partly because of the low-key excitement of their duel. She could see Shaun's chest moving up and down more rapidly, too. With each breath, a salty sheen of sweat across his exposed chest muscles glistened. Her own T-shirt clung to her back where sweat had started to trickle down the length of her spine from the exertion.

  Tawnyetta decided she couldn't keep up this pace much longer. She had to make a move. Her chance came when he swept his blade across his body and at an arc as if to bring it down on her in a cutting motion. She quickly ducked under his arm, turned in a circle so she was now standing at his side, and pointed her blade roughly at his kidney.

  Shaun's reaction was automatic and not only displayed his agility but also his skill at swordplay. He leaped up and turned midair so as he landed he was facing her again. Right as his feet touched the ground he swung his blade down into hers to knock her off balance, whipping his saber in a circle around her blade, he thrust to the side. This move broke her grip on the handle and flung her saber up into the air and down with a crash about ten feet away.

  Tawnyetta was stunned. The move brought him towards her so fast that they were now standing less than two feet from one another, breathing hard, staring into each other's eyes as the clamor of her disarmed saber echoed through the room. For a split second she imagined him tossing his saber to the floor and taking her in his arms, pulling her into his wide chest with those strong, muscled arms. She couldn't move. She just stared at him, and he at her, their breath coming rapid and shallow.

  The next moment Shaun dropped his gaze from her eyes to her empty hands then to his own hands still clutching his blade. His face softened, brows furrowed in concern.

  "Did I hurt you?" He stepped closer, the question cracked in his throat.

  Tawnyetta felt a rush of attraction. He smelled good, like fresh earth in the springtime with a hint of spices–cloves to be exact. She still couldn't move. Her heart beat fast in her chest.

  Shaun dropped his blade on the floor and grabbed her hand. His fingers and palm wrapped around hers, rough and warm. His other hand caught her waist as if he was afraid she may be about to faint and he was trying to steady her.

  His touch brought her out of shock and she pulled away, taking a half step back.

  "I'm fine," she managed.

  "Are you sure?" He didn't look convinced.

  This was inappropriate. She didn't need to be manhandled by the gardener. She was fine. She had just been a little surprised when her saber was ripped out of her hand.

  "I'm perfectly fine, thank you," she said curtly.

  Shaun's concern dissipated and he looked her up and down as if checking to see if she was bleeding or broken, ensuring she wasn't lying. Then he gave her a half nod and amusement settled back into his eyes.

  "I'm sure your wife would have something to say to me if I sliced you up on your honeymoon," he said.

  Once again a look of surprise struck her features. She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. What was he talking about?

  "My wife?" she asked.

  "The wee lass upstairs." He looked at her as if she was dense.

  Suddenly his misunderstanding became clear and she chuckled, shaking her head. "She's not my wife. We're not married."

  "You're on your honeymoon, are you not?"

  "We are on a Not a Honeymoon." Tawnyetta saw that he didn't understand. She didn't owe him an explanation, but still felt compelled to relay that she and Bridget were not a couple. "My friend, Bridget, well, her wedding was canceled at the last minute. And she already had this trip planned so I came with her instead of her husband."

  As her explanation penetrated his mind, Shaun's face shifted from confusion to
something more like embarrassment. He shook his head as if clearing cobwebs, then gave her a puzzled smile.

  "You're not married?" he asked.

  Tawnyetta shook her head 'no' and found herself blushing under his gaze. He looked at her with renewed interest and started to say something, then stopped himself. He flicked his gaze toward the wall with the rack of weapons as if searching for words. His weight shifted from one foot to the other, then he chuckled and looked back at her with a glimmer in his eyes.

  A ridiculous thrill shot through her body. His eyes on her created a visceral reaction that she could not control.

  "You don't say?" he said.

  She wasn't sure how to answer. She wasn't sure how personal she wanted to get with this man. He was attractive. Scratch that, he was gorgeous. There was no real doubt about that. But wasn't she here for Bridget? How would Bridget feel if Tawnyetta had a vacation fling with the hired help while she was suffering through a massive break up?

  Shaun opened his mouth to say something, but Tawnyetta interrupted him.

  "In fact, I should be getting back to see how she's doing."

  And without another word she stalked out of the room, forcing herself not to look back, although she knew without a doubt that Shaun was watching her leave.

  Chapter Seven

  The next night they dined in a different dining hall. The castle had three separate dining halls, and the one they had been using up to this point was the smallest of all three. New guests had checked in and this necessitated a change in dining arrangements.

  When she and Bridget first arrived there were two other couples staying in the castle, but they had left the following morning. Tawnyetta had never even seen them. Up until now she and Bridget had enjoyed full run of the castle and gardens without the possibility of running into anyone except for the staff. A party of six were now booked into the West Wing of Claymore Castle. They were a family from London. A middle-aged mother and father accompanied by their grown daughter and her husband as well as their son and his wife.

 

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