Highland Guardian

by Melissa Mayhue

  She huffed out her breath in a half laugh. “You’re impossible.”

  “That’s much better.” He pulled the car to a stop at the far side of the drive. “You were so quiet after lunch and on the drive here, I feared you were really angry with me.” He turned serious black eyes on her, holding her captive with the power of his gaze. “I’d do almost anything to avoid that, Sarah.”

  “Well, don’t think you’re off the hook yet. I do intend to repay every penny you spent on those dresses.”

  All she’d have to do is figure out a way to determine exactly how many pennies, or pounds as the case may be, he had actually spent. He’d apparently given the store clerk quite a nice tip to ensure she didn’t tell Sarah the amount of the sale. Perhaps Nessa could give her a guesstimate based on her experience with the stores.

  Of course, who paid for what and being a liberated woman was the least of her problems right now. After what she saw at lunch, she was still struggling with the concept of being a sane woman. Liberation would have to take a backseat to sanity any day.

  “Sarah? Did I lose you again, luv?” Ian was leaning across the center console, only inches from her face.

  “I’m sorry. I’m a bit distracted.”

  The slow smile, the one she’d secretly dubbed The Heart Stopper, began to work its way across his face.

  “Aye, well then, best I take advantage of that while I can.”

  In the space of a heartbeat he closed the small distance between them, his mouth brushing softly over hers. Then he pulled back from her and lifted his hand to her face, stroking his thumb across her lower lip.

  “Now we’re both a bit distracted.”

  Sarah couldn’t think, much less respond, as he climbed from the car, coming around to open her door.

  “I’m going to take Nessa’s packages from the bakery round to the back. I’ll meet you at the cottage later?”

  She nodded her agreement, not quite able to form sounds.

  “Do you want me to carry yer things up to the cottage when I come?”

  This time she shook her head and watched him grin as he balanced the stack of boxes they’d brought back, each filled with the delicate pastries Nessa had ordered for tonight.

  Her lips still tingled and she unconsciously ran a finger over them as she watched him walk around the back of the building, effortlessly carrying his load.

  There was surely something she was supposed to say to him—something about how he shouldn’t be kissing her like that. But her brain couldn’t come up with the words. Perhaps her body, traitor that it seemed to be where Ian was concerned, had placed her brain on lockdown.

  Serious brain malfunction.

  Maybe that could explain what she thought she’d seen outside the restaurant today. It wasn’t a rational explanation, by any means, but she’d tried to come up one of those all the way back from Bristol without any success.

  Either way, she was beginning to have some serious doubts about her sanity on all counts. Because it wasn’t sane to allow herself to get lost in pretending to be someone special to a man like Ian McCullough. And it was most certainly not a sane act to think she’d seen that man watching her from outside the restaurant. Especially not since she was so certain he was the same man she’d seen before. The same one who had jumped over her car during the rainstorm her first night in Scotland.

  * * *

  Sarah cut through the side yard on a path she hadn’t taken before on her way to the cottage. She was pleasantly surprised to find herself in a cozy play area.

  “Sarah! You came to visit me just like you said you would.” Will jumped up from the sandbox where he had been busily occupied. “What’s that?” He pointed at the packages she carried.

  “Dresses. Ian took me shopping.” She put the packages on a bench and seated herself.

  Will climbed up next to her, immediately claiming her hand as he sat down.

  “Don’t you like the clothing?” He snuggled close, putting one small arm around her waist, the other still holding her hand in her lap.

  “Of course I do.” She looked down to meet his intense gaze, surprised that she’d had no reaction to his touch this time. “Why would you think I didn’t?”

  “You’re unhappy.” He squeezed her hand. “I feel it. Like you can.” His head snuggled against her side.

  “What?” She felt her breath catch in her lungs.

  “I’m like you. I never met one of us before.”

  “One of us?” Her voice wavered. What was this child saying?

  The reproachful look he gave her was eerily adult. “We feel things. Things about other people. About what they’re like, what they feel.” He patted her back. “Didn’t your mommy and daddy tell you it’s okay, Sarah?” He waited, his large blue eyes fixed on hers.

  “No,” she whispered, his words hitting her like a punch to the stomach.

  “We’re special.” The little hand continued to pat her back. “It’s because of our ancestors.”

  “Our ancestors?”

  He nodded. “The Faeries. We have their blood. So we’re special.”

  “Faeries,” she repeated skeptically. “Little winged butterfly people?”

  Will giggled. “They aren’t like that at all. They might want you to think they look like that, but they really don’t. And we would see them the way they really look.” He shrugged his little shoulders. “It’s in our blood. It’s who we are.”

  Faeries. What an imagination. Still, how did he know about the feelings? She didn’t discuss that with anyone. Not anymore. Not since…

  “Will, did you hear one of the grown-ups talking about this? One of those people who are here visiting your mom and dad?” Surely Brad wouldn’t talk about that. Not after all this time.

  “No.” At her look of doubt, he continued, “Feel me, Sarah. You’ll know I’m telling you the truth. We’re the same. We’re special.” He squeezed her hand, staring at her earnestly.

  She closed her eyes, allowing the feelings to flood her. There was no question about it.

  “I believe you, Will.”

  Rising to his knees, he threw his little arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. “It’s okay, Sarah. We’re special,” he whispered.

  What was her world coming to? She felt more confused than she could ever remember. From the fright of seeing that man outside the restaurant to Ian’s kiss in the car, things were simply moving too quickly for her to grasp today. And now this oddly mature little boy with his eerily accurate knowledge of something she worked so hard to hide. It all had her almost seriously considering the imaginary Faerie ancestors living in the mind of an inventive six-year-old.

  * * *

  “Have they arrived yet?” Ian lounged on the leather sofa in Daniel’s study, holding a large glass of lemonade.

  “Only Storey. The aide, O’Dannan, is flying in separately. He’ll be here later this evening.”

  “Until you mentioned him last night, I’d no heard anything about this O’Dannan. There was no file, nothing at all on him in the intelligence we looked at.”

  “I’m aware of that. Makes him all the more interesting, doesn’t it?”

  “Aye, that it does. Along with this chairman, this Servans. There’s something about that name worrying at the back of my mind.”

  “Something more than the lack of information on him?”

  Ian nodded slowly. Something he’d seen, something he’d read. He just couldn’t place it, but it would come to him in time.

  “Have you heard of him before?”

  “I’m no sure. What about this Alexander Storey? As I recall, he’s the head man at EHN, is he no? What’s your impression of him?”

  Daniel shook his head, disappointment clear in his expression. “I don’t think he’s the one, Ian. From what I hear, some financial deal forced him to the side, putting the new chairman in the driver’s seat, though he’s rarely there.”

  “From what you hear?” Ian raised an eyebrow.

  �
�Yes. From my new top secret undercover agent.” Daniel smiled. “Nessa told me. It seems Marlena Stephenson gets very talkative with only a few mimosas under her belt.”

  “She talked about it in front of Storey’s daughter?” Ian frowned.

  “No. When Brad returned from our game this morning feeling…uh, under the weather”—Daniel rubbed at his nose, obviously hiding a grin—“Nicole had the driver take her into town shopping. I don’t suppose you ran into her?”

  “No, we dinna.”

  “And your shopping day went well?”

  “It did.” Perhaps too well. The thought of Sarah’s lips, her soft breath as he’d kissed her in the car brought a smile to his face. A kiss he shouldn’t have taken, but one he couldn’t regret. He shook his head. He had to stay focused on the matter at hand. Not on Sarah.

  “Has Tanner recovered from our wee fairway accident?”

  Danny shrugged. “I haven’t seen him all day. I suppose he’ll be at this evening’s festivities.”

  “That’s more the pity. I had rather hoped he’d be indisposed this evening and spare me his company.”

  “Spare you, or is it Sarah you’re thinking of?” Daniel leaned back, propping his feet on the small table between them.

  “His behavior toward her was quite unacceptable last evening. I simply prefer she not be upset like that.”

  “And why is that, do you suppose, Ian? Why would her being upset bother you so?” Daniel’s eyebrow had lifted in question. “Could it be you’re losing your objectivity where Sarah’s concerned?”

  “Why the bloody hell is everyone so convinced that my objectivity is suddenly endangered?” Ian abruptly stood from the sofa and stalked to the window to look out. “First Dallyn, now you.” He shook his head.

  “Perhaps because we can see what you don’t.” Daniel rose and followed his friend to the window, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I see how you look at her.”

  Ian continued to gaze out the window. From here he caught sight of Sarah and Will walking together toward the Caretaker’s Cottage. Will was carrying one of her packages, holding her hand. They stopped and she leaned down to speak to the boy, her blond curls brushing against the fair hair of the child. Ian shook his head, and closed his eyes briefly before turning from the captivating scene.

  “What exactly are you trying to say?”

  “I’m simply asking you to remember what you risk, what you stand to lose.” Daniel dropped his hand and walked back to his chair, picking up his lemonade.

  Neither man broke the silence for a few moments.

  He was well aware of what he risked, and he had no intention of failing to honor his oath. Though there were moments when he was with Sarah. Moments when he could almost imagine his life being different.

  “If you had it all to do again, Danny, would you do it differently? Do you regret yer decision to give it all up?” Ian watched his friend closely.

  “I’ve no regrets at all, Ian. I’d gladly trade the few extra powers I was given and all eternity for whatever time I might have with Nessa and Will.” His brow furrowed. “But there’s a big difference between you and me. I’m not the one who promised my dying father I’d serve as a Guardian.”

  The memory of Larkin’s death still hurt, even after all these centuries. His father, a full-blooded Fae, had been one of the last to die at the hands of the Nuadians in battle. The last battle prior to the Great Spell that prevented the Fae from fighting in the Mortal Plain.

  Ian had been there waiting when they’d brought his father into the Hall. Pain etched deeply on Larkin’s face, he’d held on long enough to reach his son. To ask—no, demand—his son’s promise to guard the Fountain of Souls and the humans living in the Mortal Plain. Only in that way, he’d said, could his death be avenged. Ian had given his oath without thought. It was, after all, his beloved father.

  “I’m pleased you’ve no regrets at yer choice. I, too, believe you made the correct decision. And yer right, Danny. There is a difference between us. But the difference is that you found yer Soulmate. Mine disna exist, so I’ve no reason to dishonor my oath.” He turned and looked out the window again. The lawn was empty.

  “How can you be so sure of that?”

  Good question. One he used to think he could answer easily. But not now. Not since he’d met Sarah.

  Twelve

  “Why have you waited until now to tell me about this?” Though he hid it well, Reynard was furious. He’d been surrounded by incompetence since the beginning of time.

  “I wanted to…I thought it would be best to make sure, Great One, not to waste your time with—”

  “And you have proof of this now?” Reynard’s question cut short the explanation. He didn’t want to listen to the man’s excuse. It was always excuses. From all of them.

  “Not exactly. But I believe she saw me.”

  Reynard breathed out an impatient huff of air, pulling the phone away from his ear, while he worked to maintain his composure. Fool.

  “Another thing. She’s with the Guardian. He hovers around her. I think…that is, I suspect it may be personal for him.”

  Now this was an interesting development.

  “Which Guardian?”

  “Ian McCullough. He guards the Portal at—”

  Reynard interrupted again. “I know which Portal he and his brother’s descendants guard.” He leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully stroking his chin. “McCullough. You’re right, Flynn. This is most interesting.”

  Flynn’s panicky laugh grated on his nerves, but he didn’t show it. Never show weakness to underlings.

  “It’s why I decided to bring this directly to you now. This is important, I thought. Too important to take back to Adira, I thought.”

  “Adira?” That caught his attention. What did his mistress have to do with any of this?

  “Yes. I brought the matter to court, but she said I shouldn’t bother you until we knew more. That I should…I should come back to her with my findings. But now…now that I believe it’s so much bigger, I knew I should come directly to you.” The man cleared his throat, betraying his nervousness in yet another manner. “Adira will be very angry with me.”

  Something potentially this big and she’d said nothing to him? What was she up to? The lovely Adira, Courtesan of Nuada, would have some explaining to do.

  “Don’t worry about Adira. I’ll deal with her.” I will most certainly deal with her. “Back to this woman. I want to know for sure whether or not she is of the blood. Do whatever it takes to verify it. The situation you describe proves nothing conclusively. I’m not impressed with what you think, Flynn, only what you know to be fact.”

  “I’ll work on that, Great One.”

  “No. You’ll do it, not work on it. Otherwise you’ll deal with me. And I assure you, I can be much more unpleasant than Adira could ever dream of being.”

  He paused to listen to the quickened breathing on the other end of the line. Obviously Flynn understood his assignment and the consequences of failure. Flynn had been a useful agent in more than one situation, but he always required the proper motivation. Reynard was more than happy to provide it.

  Flynn’s voice quavered when he spoke again. “We’ll need to decide how to deal with the Guardian. I could—”

  “No. You’ll do nothing. There’s very little you can do against a Guardian. Not in the Mortal Plain. We have no power there. I’ll need to think on this. In the meantime, you might tell them I’m bringing my…my brother, yes, my brother. That will do.”

  Ramos. He would be perfect.

  “As you wish, Great One.”

  A female Mortal descendant of the Fae blood. She would have the ability to lead him across the protected waters and through a Portal into the Realm of Faerie. Once there, he was only a thought away from the Fountain of Souls and eternal life. Once he had achieved that, his ultimate goal was within reach. Complete control of the Realm of Faerie. He’d see the High Council on their knees before him, begging for hi
s mercy.

  As they’d made him beg.

  Could Flynn be correct about this woman? Reynard wouldn’t accept any mistakes with this. Not like the last time. He’d searched too long. Although there must be many such women, they were difficult to locate. Long ago, he’d spent a lifetime in the search. And now, to have one handed to him like this? The only thing better would be to find one who was the Soulmate of a Guardian. There was nothing better than an opportunity to make a Guardian suffer.

  Unless it was the elimination of a Guardian.

  “Oh, and one more thing, Flynn.”

  “Anything, Great One.”

  “You might practice calling me Mr. Servans.”

  Thirteen

  “I can do this. I can do this.” Sarah watched herself in the mirror as she repeated the words like some deranged cheerleader.

  She would not be intimidated by that man. She’d lived through marriage to him, she could certainly live through a dinner party with him. What could he possibly do to her? Other than call her names, question her sanity and generally embarrass her. She could survive that. She’d survived it before.

  She was stronger now. No longer a dewy-eyed girl to be disappointed by what she had seen at the time as his betrayal of her. He meant nothing to her now. There was nothing he could say that could wound her anymore.

  Unless he told Ian about her. About how different she really was. About the things she felt.

  She didn’t want Ian to learn about her. Didn’t want to see him look at her as everyone always did when they heard her secrets. The disbelief, the pity, the avoidance.

  She shook her head. Brad would have no reason to do that. Surely he wouldn’t go out of his way to create a scene in front of the people he worked with or his young wife.

  Would he?

  Or had he already spoken to someone about her? A conversation that little Will had overheard?

  The child’s knowledge of her feelings still rattled her. There had to be some logical explanation. She had only to discover what it was.

  Another glance at the mirror assured her that at least she wouldn’t have to worry about being dressed inappropriately tonight. Ian had excellent taste in clothing. She wore the less formal of the two dresses he’d chosen for her, this one a snug green silky dress under a shimmery gossamer covering that flowed around her body with each movement. She was a little uncomfortable that it followed her curves quite so closely, but even she had to admit it looked pretty good.