Dangerous Highlander ds-1

by Donna Grant

  She glanced at the pillow next to her and frowned. After they had made love, she had expected him to come to her in between his turns keeping watch. It bothered her a great deal that he hadn’t. She should have told him she didn’t care that he was immortal and she wasn’t. She wanted to spend her time with him, however short that time was. Had he changed his mind? Regretted what they had done?

  Her stomach clenched nervously. Or worse, did Lucan now believe she was a drough and want nothing to do with her? She wasn’t a drough, and she would prove it to him.

  How?

  She didn’t know. She didn’t even know anything of Druids and their sects, much less how to assure Lucan she wasn’t evil. But good or evil, Deirdre wanted her.

  Galen said you could battle her.

  Cara sat up and let the covers fall to her waist. It would take great magic to battle Deirdre. For a Druid who had studied magic all her life, it might seem like a simple idea, but for Cara, it was impossible.

  She didn’t know the first thing about being a Druid or about magic. Battling Deirdre was out of the question.

  And the tingling of your fingers?

  Cara threw off the covers and pulled her nightgown over her head. She bathed with the bowl of cold water that had been left for her, then dressed for the day. When she walked to the great hall she found Fallon sharpening spears and other weapons.

  “Good morn, Cara,” he said when he caught sight of her.

  She paused on her way to the kitchen to say, “Good morn.” Once in the kitchen Cara rummaged around and found that someone, most likely Quinn, had taken several things from the village homes. She found flour and yeast to make bread.

  It was while she was kneading the dough she glanced up to find Lucan standing in the doorway watching her.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “Aye.”

  He moved into the kitchen to stand across the table from her. His sea green eyes were warm as they raked over her body. “I remember coming in here as a lad and watching Cook make bread.”

  Cara smiled. “I imagine she gave you a slice as soon as it came out of the oven.”

  “Oh, aye. Even at such a young age women were susceptible to my charms.”

  She paused. He was handsome, but when he smiled, he was devastating. “I love it when you smile.”

  He walked around the table and pulled her against him. She tried to keep her hands that were full of flour away from him, but he didn’t seem to care.

  “Ask me,” he demanded in a rough voice.

  “Ask you what?”

  “Ask me why I didna come to you last night.”

  Cara looked away. She didn’t want him to know how much she had wanted his arms around her.

  He gave her a little shake. “Ask me, Cara.”

  “All right.” She forced her gaze to his. “Why didn’t you come to me last night?”

  “Because I knew if I did I would take you again, and your body needs time to heal. It took everything I had not to go to you.”

  Of all the reasons she imagined he would come up with, her welfare hadn’t been one of them. “You could have just held me.”

  “Nay,” he said with a small shake of his head. “It’s not enough. I need you in ways that leave me baffled. I couldn’t chance hurting you.”

  “Even if I wanted you again?”

  He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. “Och, lass, you’re killing me.”

  Cara moaned into his mouth as he kissed her. The tight feeling in her chest disappeared at Lucan’s words. He hadn’t changed his mind. He had only been thinking of her.

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him as he ground his hard arousal against her. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t.”

  “And the bread will ruin,” she said between kisses.

  Lucan ended their kiss. “You thought I didn’t want you.”

  Cara thought about lying, but she realized to do so now would alter their relationship. They had been honest with each other from the beginning. “Aye. I did.”

  “I told you yesterday you were mine.”

  “Even though you found out I’m descended from droughs?”

  “You’re descended from Druids, Cara. There’s a difference. Your ancestors chose to be droughs. You don’t have to make that choice.”

  But in the back of her mind, Cara knew that she would have to make a choice.

  “When you finish here, come out to the bailey. I would like to have you practice more with the weapons.”

  She laughed as he slapped her on the bottom when he walked past. She turned and shook her head. “My same argument stands. Mortal weapons won’t do me any good against magic.”

  “You never know,” he called over his shoulder.

  Cara watched him until he disappeared into the great hall. Her smile never wavered as she finished with the bread and set it to rise.

  She rinsed her hands and had started toward the great hall when the garden caught her eye. With one look at the plants, her fingers began that now familiar tingle. Herbs still grew in the weeds; at least the ones that hadn’t been choked out were still growing. With a little care, they could return.

  Cara walked out of the kitchen and knelt in the garden. As soon as her hands touched the plants, a warm, contented feeling stole over her. She began to pull the thick, mature weeds out of the ground. It felt good to get her hands in the soil, even when the dirt got under her fingernails. There was something natural and right about it. She didn’t question her feeling, only followed it.

  She paused in her task only long enough to put the bread in the oven, and then she was back in the garden. By the time noon came, the garden was half-weeded and the smell of fresh-baked bread filled the air.

  With a slap of her hands together, she dusted them off and rose to rinse them. She turned to find Lucan leaning against the castle watching her much as he had done earlier in the kitchen.

  “I couldn’t let the bread burn,” she said when he raised his brows.

  “Nay, I suppose you couldn’t. And the garden?”

  She glanced at the ground, happy to see many of the herbs were still in place. “I couldn’t stand around doing nothing.”

  “I didn’t think the herbs still survived.”

  She shrugged. “They may not. Most were overtaken by weeds, but I’ve given them a fighting chance now.”

  “Hm,” he said, and held out his hand. “Fallon and Quinn are waiting.”

  Cara didn’t miss the curious glance he gave the garden. She gathered the bread and took it into the great hall, where even Quinn smiled when he saw the fresh bread. The brothers eagerly cut into the bread, but Cara found her attention returning again and again to the garden.

  And when she began to wonder if she could slip away unnoticed to return to the herbs, she knew something had changed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Keep your sword up,” Lucan told Cara. Her arms were tiring and her lips were pinched, but he couldn’t let up on his instructions. There was so much she needed to know, and so little time to learn it.

  Fallon and Quinn had taken turns with him instructing her. Cara didn’t complain once, though he knew she didn’t see the need in it.

  “Watch my eyes,” he reminded her. He lunged, and the end of his wooden sword hit her between her breasts. “You weren’t watching.”

  She sighed and took a step back as she lowered her sword. “You had years of training, Lucan. I can only learn so much in a few days.”

  “But you’ve done well considering,” Fallon said.

  Lucan noticed Fallon had left his wine in the castle. For the past few hours, Fallon had drunk nothing but water. Lucan couldn’t recall the last time Fallon had gone so long without his wine.

  Quinn sat beside Fallon on the steps. “It’s her skirts. They hamper her.”

  Lucan nodded. “There’s nothing to be done about it, though.”

  “I could wear breeches as you do,” she said.

  Lucan ch
oked on his spit. As he coughed, he imagined what she would look like walking around the castle with breeches molding to her body. He would like nothing more than to see that, but he didn’t want anyone else to see.

  “Nay,” he said when he stopped coughing. “No breeches for you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Any other suggestions?”

  “Stay near one of us,” Quinn said.

  “Easier said than done,” she retorted. “It’s not that I don’t want to learn. It’s that I don’t think I can.”

  “Aye, you can,” Lucan said. “You’ve come a long way already. Before, you could barely hold the sword. With a tap of my blade against yours I could knock your weapon out of your hand. Now, you hold it with a firm grip.”

  Fallon nodded. “And you’re quick despite your skirts.”

  “The Warriors will use their strength,” Lucan said. “They will try to overpower you, but with your swiftness, you can keep away from them.”

  Her head cocked to the side. “You have such faith in me.”

  “You’re learning from a MacLeod. Of course I have faith in you.”

  She laughed, the sound music to his ears. When was the last time the bailey had heard laughter? By the looks on his brothers’ faces, they were thinking the same thing.

  “All right,” Cara said, and lifted her sword and dagger. “Let us continue.”

  “This time, don’t engage me. Stay out of my reach. Only use your weapons to deflect mine if I get close.”

  “Remember,” Fallon said. “The Warriors and wyrran will be striking out with their claws.”

  Lucan nodded. “I want to get her used to evading the sword first.”

  Cara’s stance had widened, her knees slightly bent as she stared into his eyes. He was more than impressed with how much she had learned in the short time she had trained. At first, he had done it merely to give her the idea that she could defend herself. They had all known she didn’t stand a chance against a Warrior.

  But the more time Lucan watched her, the more he realized she stood a very good chance of keeping a Warrior or wyrran off her until he or his brothers could get to her.

  He circled her, her steps matching his. He lunged forward and smiled when she spun out of his reach, her dagger touching his arm. Had she not put the flat of the blade against him, she would have sliced him open.

  “Very good,” Quinn called, approval in his voice. “He’ll be expecting that from now on, though.”

  Lucan feinted to his right, then moved toward her on the left. She didn’t realize his ploy until it was too late, but instead of being caught, she ducked and rolled out of his reach. When she came to her feet, her dagger touched the back of his knee.

  Fallon clapped. “Impressive, Cara. You would have made a great MacLeod warrior.”

  Lucan couldn’t agree more. She had the spirit of the Highlands inside her. That would be an advantage to her. He faced her and gave her a small nod. She beamed but readied herself lest he catch her unawares.

  He gave her little time to prepare as he fell on one knee and swept his sword at her ankles. She jumped in time to avoid being hit, and before Lucan could stand, her sword was at his throat.

  “Either you’re moving slowly to give me time or . . . ,” she trailed off.

  He saw the wariness in her mahogany eyes. “Or what? It comes natural to you?”

  “I’m a woman.”

  He grinned. “I’ve noticed.”

  She looked at the weapons in her hands. “Women don’t battle, Lucan.”

  “Why not?” Quinn said. “Maybe if I had taught Elspeth she could have gotten our son away.”

  “I wasn’t moving at my normal speed,” Lucan said. “But I wasn’t moving slow, either.”

  He took her hand and guided her to the steps. Fallon held out a jug of water to Cara. She drank her fill and handed it to Lucan.

  “They didn’t attack last night,” Cara said.

  Lucan met his brothers’ gazes. “Nay.”

  Which meant Deirdre was taking more time to gather her forces. Deirdre was nothing if not intelligent. She wouldn’t react until she had everything in place. She wasn’t going to give up so easily on Cara, either, and if Deirdre could capture the Mac Leods at the same time, it would be an added benefit.

  “What does it mean?” Cara asked.

  “Trouble,” Quinn answered. “It means trouble, Cara.”

  Her dark gaze met Lucan’s. “You know what we need to do.”

  He knew exactly what she wanted. “We doona know if we can trust Galen.”

  “And you won’t until you talk to him. How much time do we have before Deirdre strikes?”

  Fallon shrugged. “She could attack at any time.”

  Cara lifted her brows. “Just talk to Galen.”

  “Maybe she’s right,” Quinn said. “We can hold our own against Deirdre’s army, but the more Warriors we have on our side the better.”

  “You said he knew of more Warriors, right?” Fallon asked.

  Lucan shrugged. “So he said.”

  “What choice do we have? We need to find out.”

  Lucan still wasn’t convinced. If they let Galen inside their castle, he could easily take Cara away the moment Lucan’s back was turned.

  “You want to keep Cara safe, don’t you?” Quinn asked.

  Lucan clenched his jaw. “You know I do.”

  “Then we need to talk to Galen.”

  Lucan blew out a breath. “Fine. I’ll go find him first thing in the morning.” When they started to argue he pointed to the sun. “We don’t have time now. The sun will set in a few hours.”

  With his speed he could find Galen and return before dark, and his brothers knew it.

  Cara stood and wiped strands of hair from her face. “I’m going to wash up and get supper ready.”

  He watched her walk into the castle. As soon as the door closed behind her Fallon rose to his feet.

  “We cannot wait, Lucan. You know this.”

  Quinn glared at him. “You’re always the one telling us we need to see what we are and adjust. Look around you, Lucan. We need to adjust to what’s coming.”

  “I know,” he admitted.

  “It’s not easy, is it?” Fallon asked.

  Lucan frowned. “What?”

  “Making decisions that affect someone you care about.”

  “I’ve been making decisions for you and Quinn for three hundred years.”

  “Aye.” Quinn nodded. “But we aren’t the woman you want to claim as your own, which is folly in itself.”

  Lucan didn’t want to hear why he and Cara couldn’t be together. He knew the arguments since he had used them on himself without success.

  “First things first,” Fallon said. “We get Galen. Now.”

  Lucan shifted his gaze to his older brother. For just a moment he sounded like the Fallon of old, the Fallon before their clan was butchered. “Are you ordering me, Brother?”

  Fallon nodded. “I am the eldest.”

  Lucan had wanted Fallon to accept his role as head of their family for a long time. He had thought it would never happen, so had resigned himself to being in charge. Now that Fallon had stepped forward, Lucan found he didn’t care for it.

  “If you want to win against Deirdre, we have to take chances,” Quinn said. “We’ll all keep an eye on Galen. That I vow, Lucan.”

  He ran a hand down his face. There was no use in arguing. If he didn’t go, Quinn would. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  “Godspeed,” Fallon said.

  “Don’t let Cara out of your sight,” Lucan told them.

  At the nods of his brothers, he turned on his heel and ran out of the bailey. As he passed the gate house he lamented the fact that they didn’t have a gate. Not that it would keep the Warriors out, but to keep anyone else from coming inside.

  * * *

  Quinn sighed as Lucan’s long strides took him out of the bailey. “Lucan was always wary of people, but it has gotten worse over the
years.”

  “We’ve all gotten worse over the years, little brother.”

  “Have you seen the way he looks at Cara?”

  Fallon chuckled. “That would be difficult to miss.”

  “Aren’t you worried?” Quinn couldn’t believe Fallon was so calm about it.

  “There is nothing you can say that will change Lucan’s mind. He tried to stay away from her and failed. Surely you remember what it was to desire a woman. We’ve been here alone without a woman for too many years. I’m not surprised that Cara has awoken something inside him.”

  Quinn shook his head. “It will only cause him more heartache. Cara is mortal. We’re immortal. There is no hope for them.”

  “Right now Lucan is happy. Doona take that away from him.”

  “It will destroy him,” Quinn argued, feeling the anger rise inside him. “You know this. He survived so much, but if he falls in love with Cara and loses her . . . we’ll lose Lucan.”

  Fallon closed his eyes and nodded. “I know, but how can I tell him to stay away from her?” He lifted his lids and his gaze settled on Quinn. “I would no more warn you away from a woman, either. We live in Hell. Why not take a bit of joy that comes our way, since it is so few and far between?”

  “You know as well as I that Lucan holds us together.”

  “Then when the time comes, we’ll be the ones that hold him together.”

  Quinn stared at his older brother, seeing their father in Fallon’s dark green gaze.

  “Do you not think we can?” Fallon asked.

  Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t mean to pry, but you know what it is to lose a wife, Quinn. If anyone could be there for Lucan, it’s you.”

  “It may be a moot point.” He didn’t want to talk about Elspeth and his marriage. He wouldn’t. “Deirdre could come tonight and take Cara. I don’t think it matters what we do. He’s going to lose Cara to that evil bitch.”

  Fallon crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Quinn took the stairs two at a time to the top. “Since you’re the one who sent Lucan to get Galen, you’re the one that gets to tell Cara he’s gone.”

  “She’s the one that wanted Galen to come. She’ll understand.”