Claimed by a Laird

by Glenn, Laura

  Not entirely certain what he meant by those words, she concentrated instead on what she could possibly say or do to prove she wasn’t insane.

  The British currency in her wallet sprang to mind. She turned toward her purse and quickly dug through it. Eventually, she pulled out a one pound coin and a ten pound note from the Bank of Scotland and dropped the wallet back into her bag. “Here,” she said, handing the currency to him.

  As he tilted the money toward the light, Anna pointed at the date stamped on the coin to the right of Queen Elizabeth II’s head. “There. Do you see that?”

  “Two, zero, zero, eight.” His eyes darted around the coin and then to the ten pound note. “Who the hell is this fool?”

  Anna placed one hand on his forearm to steady herself as she leaned in for a closer look. Not recognizing the man with his obviously eighteenth-century powdered wig, she shrugged and struggled to keep her focus on proving her claims, and not on the rock-hard muscles twitching beneath her fingertips.

  “And this woman?” Galen asked, waving the coin at her.

  “That’s the Queen of England in my time.”

  Much to Anna’s confusion, the man proceeded to bite the coin. Speechless, she widened her eyes.

  “Typical English,” he snorted. “You have been taken, lass. This is not real silver.” He wiped the coin on his shirt and handed it to her.

  She sighed in exasperation. “Silver isn’t commonly used for coins where I’m from. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is the date.”

  His eyes shifted back and forth from the coin in her hand to the bank note in his. “Two, zero, zero, eight is the date?”

  “Yes, that’s the date this coin was made. And here is the date this was printed.” She pointed to the center of the bank note.

  “Two, zero, one, zero,” he read with a shake of his head. “And what does this say?” He pointed to the large words at the top of the note.

  “Bank of Scotland,” she slowly replied. “You can’t read that?”

  “I don’t read English, woman,” he grumbled, shoving the bank note at her. “Perhaps you can tell me what a ‘bank’ is and why the hell this is in English if it clearly says Scotland.”

  His surly attitude and what little she did know of Scotland’s history with England made her uneasy about supplying him with too much information. Considering there was no one around who would be able to contradict her, she didn’t think lying to soften the truth was such a bad idea. “English is widely spoken because of England’s efforts to colonize other parts of the world, which is why I am from a place across the ocean.”

  “Good Lord, woman, don’t tell me England will take over the whole world!”

  She laughed and patted his arm reassuringly. “No, there was a revolt and England lost control over its colonies. Many people immigrated there through the years, not just the English.”

  “And what are you? Are you English? You speak strangely.”

  As he turned those piercing gray orbs to her face, her breath caught in her throat. This guy was simply too hot for her own good. “Um, no, my parents were Scottish.”

  His continued stare and silence unnerved her and she leaned back to put some distance between them. She laughed apprehensively. “But none of that is possible, right? People don’t simply travel back in time eight hundred years, do they?”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I do not know, lass. It is the truth I would not have entertained such fantastic notions had you not appeared to me in my dreams.”

  Anna’s blood turned to ice. “I what?”

  He reached for her pendant, capturing it between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckles brushing against the tops of her breasts. “Ever since I was thrown down there, I have had dreams of you aiding my escape. Your red hair glowed almost like a halo, just like it did when you finally appeared in the flesh.”

  She shivered, partially in disbelief and partly in arousal. “Are you sure it was me?”

  “It is hard to forget the face of such a pretty lass,” he whispered.

  The heat from his touch burned across her chest, causing her stomach to tingle. She couldn’t help but imagine his roughened hand flattened against her skin as she traced his bottom lip with her tongue. A jolt of electricity shot through the junction between her thighs, drawing her abruptly out of her musings.

  Galen’s brow knitted in concentration as he stared at the pendant and then lifted his gaze to hers. His knuckles grazed her breasts again as he released his hold on her necklace. His eyes darkened as they dropped to her cleavage and he shifted his weight, pressing his hard, muscular thigh into hers.

  Anna swallowed hard, her head swimming with erotic visions she had no business entertaining. What the hell was wrong with her? The man had threatened to kill her and yet she thought of him as nothing more than walking sex. It really had been too long.

  Anxious to avoid his intense stare and the growing heat between her legs, she softly asked, “Why were you thrown down there? I mean, what does this Graham guy have against you?”

  He pulled his hand away, lightly skipping the backs of his fingers down her thigh as he cast his eyes toward the opposite wall. “It was most likely because my life could fetch a much more handsome ransom than my brother’s. Other than that, the man is cousin to the Campbell of Maree laird.”

  Anna held her breath at the sour note in his voice as she resisted the urge to melt against him. Hadn’t Neil Campbell mentioned that he worked at Maree Castle?

  “What’s wrong with the Campbells?” she quietly asked, attempting a nonchalant tone.

  “Their laird killed my father in battle about twelve years ago.”

  The blood drained from her face and she was grateful that he didn’t turn to look at her. She pulled her purse protectively against her hip. With her last name printed in bold letters upon her driver’s license and credit cards, the last thing she needed was the man with the blade finding out she, too, bore the name Campbell.

  “And they subjugated themselves to the Gowrie,” he added with a slight growl.

  Icy fingers of apprehension wrapped around Anna’s heart. James’ last name had been Gowrie. Dear Lord, could things get any worse? Not only was her mother a Graham and her father a Campbell, but she had been married to a Gowrie.

  Galen turned his gaze to hers, searching her face. She held her breath as his gray eyes blackened for a fleeting moment before the tension left his face and he leaned the back of his head against the stone wall.

  Several minutes passed as they sat motionless. Thoughts of home and her past whirled around her weary mind, battling the heat of the man next to her for attention.

  “So, tell me, lass, to what family do you belong? You had mentioned your father was Scottish.”

  “None really.” She gulped silently. “My father abandoned my mother and me when I was a baby. My mother went crazy with grief and I practically raised myself. I work as a nurse now.”

  “A nurse?”

  She tilted her head to the side as she considered how to best explain. “I take care of sick and injured people and help them to heal.”

  “So, you are a healer then?”

  Anna nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  “And you say you are from across the ocean?”

  The disbelief in his tone was not lost on her. She bowed her head in defeat and twisted the fabric of her long chocolate-brown skirt between her fingers.

  He grabbed her hands to stop her fidgeting. “Lass, I know you believe what you have told me. Your coin and my dreams are the only proof of your story. It will take some time and questions before I can fully accept your words as truth.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she replied with a bitter laugh, unable to keep the fear out of her voice.

  “Do not fret, Anna. I will not abandon you once this is over,” he whispered. “I owe you my life.”

  Surprised by his determined tone, she turned her face back to his in curiosity. Damn it all if he didn’
t actually look sincere.

  A pulsing knot formed in her throat and she shook her head. She had always prided herself on her strength and self-sufficiency. Deep down, however, she feared she was not up to the task of caring for herself in thirteenth-century Scotland, if that was indeed where she was.

  She clenched her hand until her nails bit into the tender flesh of her palm and wearily leaned the side of her face against his shoulder. It was crazy. How could she even consider trusting this man when mere moments ago he was threatening to slit her throat? She’d already had enough of frightening, violent men in her life and was lucky to have escaped with only a few bruises. Not every woman was quite so lucky.

  But there was something about this man in particular that drew her to a place both comforting and alarming. He’d been stuck in a dark, dank dungeon for days after trading his own life for that of his brother. She couldn’t think of a single person, other than Ian and her grandparents, who would sacrifice everything they had for their family. Galen was only attempting to make his way back to his clan and Anna happened to get in his way. Now that he realized she wasn’t a threat, he was willing to take her in.

  Maybe for just a little while, she could push aside her general distrust of men and let him take care of her. At least, until she could find a way out of this mess and get back home.

  Chapter Three

  “You want me to do what?” Anna whispered, stiffening in shock.

  “You need to distract him and get him to turn his back on me,” Galen explained once again as he clasped the rope he had taken from the dungeon behind his back and stared down at her.

  She raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him before peering through the ajar, wooden door leading to the defensive curtain wall of the castle complex, and the lone guard staring blankly toward the river. “And just how am I supposed to do that?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up playfully as his eyes skimmed her form.

  Anna’s cheeks burned and she tore her eyes away from his. Was he somehow picking up on her growing attraction to him and trying to use it to his advantage? She was not certain how much time they had spent sitting next to one another on the floor of the dungeon antechamber, but it had seemed like an eternity as his nearness infiltrated her every thought. By the time he had decided it was safe to attempt their escape, she was little more than a weak puddle of desire.

  “I don’t do that sort of thing,” she snapped, hoping he would only detect her anger and not her arousal at his casual perusal of her figure.

  Galen grabbed her by the arms. “We have no other choice. I will not be able to get to him before he sounds the alarm unless you keep him otherwise engaged.”

  “But I wouldn’t even know what to do,” she protested, attempting to stay focused as his face came within inches of hers. His firm grip on her arms sent little sparks flowing through her veins. “What if he doesn’t speak English?”

  “If you had ever seen yourself in a looking glass, you would know that matters not.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered as she quickly lifted her eyes to his, her skin prickling with sudden heat. Surely she had misunderstood. A man who looked like the star of some Hollywood action movie simply couldn’t be attracted to her. She was average. Just another ponytail-sporting, scrubs-wearing nurse who could barely be bothered to put on a pair of jeans to run to the grocery store. Why on earth would this charismatic warlord be attracted to her?

  He audibly blew out a breath and released her arms only to cup her face gently between his palms, forcing her to look straight into his eyes. “If I am caught, I know what my fate will be, but I cannot promise you would be so lucky. I cannot protect you if I am dead, lass.”

  Anna shivered as his words brought her back to reality. The worst-case scenario of what could happen to her darted through her head. She had only seen one brutally beaten and raped woman during her short time as an ER nurse, but the indelible memory of that woman was more than enough incentive to gain her cooperation.

  “All right,” she stated, shaking off the horrid visions. “Let’s do this.”

  He released her and she unbuttoned her forest-green wool cardigan, exposing her chocolate-brown tank top underneath, and handed her purse to Galen.

  His eyes narrowed as he peered at her. “What are you doing?”

  Her lips curved into an impish grin as she pulled the hem of her tank top down, revealing an ample portion of her cleavage, and then cupped her breasts, pushing them up and together as she adjusted them in her bra. “Exactly what you suggested. I’m going to distract him.”

  Every muscle in his body seemed to tense and his eyes turned a smoldering black in the moonlight.

  The feral scowl on his face was unnerving to say the least. Anna forced herself to take a deep breath in a desperate move to ignore the tingling in the pit of her stomach. “But you can’t kill him, okay?”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I have vowed not to harm anyone and I can’t be a part of some poor guy’s death just because he happens to work for the wrong side.”

  Galen’s face paled. “A vow? Are you a nun?” he asked, his voice tinged with cold disappointment.

  “No, I’m a nurse, remember? Let’s just get this done before I lose my nerve,” she admonished, wringing her hands.

  He rolled his eyes in exasperation, pulled her fidgeting hands apart and waved her ahead as he shrank back into the shadows of the stairwell.

  Anna peeked around the door again, spotting the young guard at the far end of the wall. Goosebumps covered her arms and she fought a shiver as she moved forward. Their whole survival depended upon how successfully she seduced some innocent man who now stood only a dozen or so feet in front of her.

  At that moment, the young man glanced in her direction and whirled to confront her. Throwing some words at her she didn’t understand, he drew his sword.

  Her heart nearly stopped, threatening to rip any away any shred of confidence she had left. She stilled and breathed deep. If that tour guide hadn’t pulled the story he had told out of his ass, then she was probably the Anna Campbell. And if that was the case, then she and Galen would make it out of this mess with their heads still intact.

  And get married.

  Anna hastily pushed the crazy thought aside before it could send her into a panic. “Excuse me,” she sweetly said, praying her voice wouldn’t crack. “But I think I’m lost.”

  The hard edges of the young man’s face softened as his lips split into a crooked grin. “Yes, you are, lass,” he replied in English with a laugh as he sheathed his sword and nodded to his right. “England is that way.”

  She put on what she hoped appeared to be a timid smile and walked toward him.

  “Are you a cousin of the laird?”

  “What?” she asked, her heart jumping as she passed and pivoted on her heel to face him so he would turn his back toward Galen.

  “Our laird’s mother has English cousins,” he explained. “But I have not seen nor heard of anyone arriving.”

  She resisted the urge twist her hands together and instead forced a serene smile onto her face. “Your laird wasn’t aware of our journey until we arrived a little while ago,” she said with a shrug.

  He stepped toward her unhurriedly, almost as if he thought she’d bolt if he moved too fast. His eyes searched her face for several moments before his mouth finally parted in a roguish grin. “You are not a cousin, are you?”

  Anna turned her face toward the river rushing below as her pulse thudded in panic. She never had been very good at lying. Even as a child, any adult within a ten-foot radius could tell when she was fibbing. Her face would always heat up, her voice would quiver and her words would tumble out like an amateur auctioneer at an estate sale. “What makes you say that?”

  The cool night air dissipated as his body heat surrounded her. She swallowed a gasp, silently willing her heart to remain steady.

  He chuckled close to her ear. “I doubt our laird would allow his cousin to
wander the castle alone and unguarded.”

  She resisted the urge to push away from him. His hungry gaze on her cleavage practically singed her skin. “You’re right,” she softly replied, twisting the words from her throat as she desperately searched her brain for any plausible explanation. Surely one of the dozens of medieval romance novels she had read years ago could provide her with something.

  “I’m a-a-maid to his cousin,” she finally said, using her best helpless female voice. “I was trying to make my way to her room, but I got all turned around. This is such a big castle.” A nervous laugh escaped her throat.

  He brushed her hair away from her shoulder. “Do not be frightened of me, little dove. I have no intention of hurting you.”

  What the hell was taking Galen so long? She resisted the urge to peer around the young man toward the door.

  He trailed one finger down her back. “It is a cold night and I would hate for you to become chilled. Let me escort you back to your chamber.”

  Anna’s stomach twisted into a fitful knot and she resisted the gasp wanting to break from her lips as he tilted his face toward hers. She took a quick, sharp breath through her nostrils as the young man’s thin, hard lips pressed her mouth. With little ceremony, he used his thumb to coax down her chin so her lips would part.

  Anger welled within her chest. Damn that MacAirth laird. If he wasn’t going to come to her rescue then she was just going to have to do it herself. She pulled her foot back in preparation to shove her knee between the young man’s legs when his head was suddenly knocked to the side.

  Anna swallowed a yelp as his body slumped against hers. She stumbled backward then exhaled in relief as Galen quickly took the man’s lifeless body from her and laid it at her feet.

  “What the hell took you so long?” she hissed.

  Galen shrugged. “I did not want to interrupt.”

  The sarcasm dripping from his voice gave away his displeasure. Flinching at the chill of his dark stare, she forced her attention to the unconscious man before her and knelt to check his pulse.

  “I did not kill him,” Galen spat, jerking her to standing by her arm.