by MacKay, Cali
And then she pushed him away, her breath coming in heavy as she moved away from him. “I can’t do this, Iain.”
“Cat, please… don’t do this.” His heart fell into a slow shatter. “Stay.”
She was already heading for the door. “I won’t go to the inn, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s got to stop. Goodnight, Iain.”
“As ye wish, love.” He let out a ragged sigh laden with hurt and unfulfilled desire. “As ye wish.”
***
Come morning, Iain awoke to Duncan’s incessant barking, a sure sign that Iain’s bad mood would only worsen. Pushing Cat from his mind, he followed the commotion to the library and found his brother and James sitting on the sofa across from the paintings. “What the hell are ye doing here? After the shite ye pulled the other night, neither of ye are welcome here.”
“It’s my home as much as it’s yers, Iain.” Malcolm stood and faced him, a look of smug arrogance on his face.
“Ye eejit. Yer big mouth had nationalists traipsing through the home with weapons.” He fisted his brother’s shirt. “They hit Cat over the head hard enough to render her unconscious. So don’t go telling me that ye have a right to be here—ye lost that privilege when ye gambled yerself into a hole. Da’s left the house to me. Ye have no claim here, Malcolm.”
His brother shrugged out of Iain’s grasp. “That’s where ye’d be wrong. The house is only yers once Da passes, and until then ye’ve no more claim on it than I. We’re here to find the Highlander’s Hope, and if ye think ye’re going to stop us, then you can guess again.”
He tried his best to mask any acknowledgement of the necklace. “Ye’re daft. Cat may be a historian, but she’s only here for one reason, and that’s me. You and yer friends have ruined what was supposed to be a romantic holiday.”
James tilted his head towards Cat’s laptop, and let out a laugh that made Iain want to punch him. “I know Cat, and trust me when I tell you, the girl is here for the necklace. She is nothing if not meticulous in her documentation, even if she doesn’t refer to the Highlander’s Hope by name.”
“That’s password-protected.” Iain’s temper rose.
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” James laughed, looking smug.
It was a hunch, and Iain went with it, his temper flaring. “Ye’ve had remote access to her computer, haven’t ye? Set it up the last time ye got yer hands on it.”
There were plenty of programs out there that allowed external users remote control—and if you didn’t know what to look for, you’d never know. All one needed was access to the computer just once to download the program, and James had the opportunity when he and Cat had been dating.
James looked so smug, it made Iain want to plant a fist in his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’d be careful about making any accusations. I could take you to court for slander.”
“Go for it.” Furious, Iain would love a fight.
“Is it true, James?” Cat walked into the room, her hair disheveled, and her eyes ablaze as she zeroed in on her ex. She then laughed, shaking her head—but only a fool would take it for humor. “I can’t believe it.”
When she lunged for James, murder in her eyes, Iain grabbed her with an arm around her waist, trying to keep his grip on her as she struggled to kill the bastard. “He’s not worth it, love.”
“No, he’s not.”
Iain spun at the unfamiliar voice, dread filling him at the sight of three armed men, and in the lead, the same nationalist they’d dealt with before. Malcolm must have left the door unlocked—or let them in. “What do ye want? If ye’re looking for the Hope, we don’t have it, nor did we have it at any point. I don’t want trouble.”
Putting Cat down, he shifted her behind him to try and keep her safe. He didn’t know how serious these men were about using their weapons, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to take a chance.
It was his brother who stepped forward. “What the hell are ye doing, MacTavish? Ye were only supposed to help us find the Hope. This was not part of the deal.”
“We have no deal, MacCraigh, so I suggest ye sit down and shut yer gob.” He waved his gun towards them. “The rest of ye, too—except for the lass. She’s coming with me.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I’ll be fine.” Cat tried desperately to reassure Iain as one of the men shoved a gun at him. She’d never been more frightened, but knew she needed to keep a level head. If she could find out what they wanted, she might be able to get rid of them.
MacTavish grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the door and out of the room, Iain’s shouts fading as they moved down the hall and into the sitting room. MacTavish pushed her into a seat and stood across from her, his gun pointed right at her.
“This is simple, really. I want the necklace, and if ye don’t already have it, then you’re going to find it. Are we clear?” What was clear by his tone was that he was damn serious about finding the Hope.
“Just one problem—it might not even be here. And even if it is, I’m sure it’s well hidden. It could take us forever to find it.” It was nothing but the truth, even if she felt their recent discovery of the tunnel and hidden chamber could indeed hold the Hope. “Historians and archaeologists spend years looking for these types of finds—lifetimes even—and usually come up empty-handed. What are you going to do? Hold us at gunpoint while we grow old and grey?”
He let out a bark of a laugh. “Nae, lass. I’ll have shot all of ye long before that, starting with yer lad. So I suggest ye get a move on. I’ve no doubt that, properly motivated, ye’ll make good use of yer time.”
“Trust me when I tell you, he’s not my lad or anything more than a pain in my ass.” She didn’t want MacTavish thinking they could hurt Iain to get to her. It was doubtful it would work, but it was still worth a try.
“That may well be the case, but either way, I don’t think ye’d want him bleeding out on the carpet.”
“You know, I fully support the Nationalist movement, but you’re really starting to tick me off.”
He shook his head with a chuckle one would never expect to come from such a man. “Ye’ve got a bit of fire to ye. I can see why he likes ye. Now let’s not ruin things for him by making me shoot one of ye. It’d be a pity. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, and tend to root for true love.”
“Fine. Wouldn’t want you getting all twitchy with that trigger finger. But I’m telling you now—it’s not true love.” She crossed her arms, annoyed, knowing there was nothing she could do but go hunting for the Hope.
“If ye say so, lassie.”
She tried to think of a way to find help. Should she tell MacTavish of the tunnel and lead them to the necklace or try to delay them in the hope someone would come to their aid? Angus would be turning up before long, and if she could get back to Iain, then together, they might stand a fighting chance.
“There is something we recently noticed and I think it could lead to the necklace, but we’ve yet to check it out fully, and frankly, Iain’s the one that knows the area. All the trees and caves look the same to me, and I don’t have a clue where to find any of the landmarks being referenced. And keep in mind that these are just stabs in the dark. We could still be way off base.”
He looked at her for a long moment as if mulling things over and then called out. “Bring me Iain MacCraigh.”
A moment later, Iain was shoved into the room. He immediately crossed to her side. “Are ye all right?”
Cat nodded, but MacTavish was having none of it. “Neither of ye will be doing well if we don’t find the necklace, so I suggest we start moving before I lose patience. And let me make myself clear—if either of ye try something daft, it’ll be the other one who’ll pay the consequences.”
As dangerous as these guys seemed, she had to try to send out a call for help. They might not get the chance once they were out in the woods. “Just one thing—we’re both barefoot, since you caught us as we were getting up. If you want us to make it throug
h those woods anytime this century, then I suggest letting us get our shoes, and frankly, I wouldn’t mind a bit more clothing, since I’m still in my pj’s.”
“Only if ye make it quick.” MacTavish glared at her as he waved his gun in the direction of the door. “Come on, then.”
She headed for the door with Iain trailing at her side, their eyes locked on each other. She knew he might try to get help, but she doubted MacTavish would leave Iain alone, whereas she might be able to ask for some privacy. Her cell phone was upstairs, in addition to one of the home phones. If she could get away long enough to put a call in to the police, they might get out of the ordeal unscathed.
“You first.” MacTavish stood at the door to her room and motioned her in. “The door stays open. Try anything, and I shoot the lad.”
“Do I not get any privacy?”
“If ye want privacy, then I suggest ye stay in night-clothes. Now either get changed or let’s get moving.”
Frustrated, Cat grabbed clothes and, using the blanket off her bed for privacy, got dressed, knowing there’d be no chance of her making a call with him standing right there. She did, however, pick the jeans she was wearing the night before, knowing her cell phone was still tucked away in the pocket, and chose a sweater long enough to mask the bulge. If he didn’t search her, then maybe she could find a moment to make a call. Iain was next to get dressed, and before long, they were out the door and heading for the trails. MacTavish had come prepared not only with a gun, but with rope and a pack of supplies and equipment.
The morning air was bitterly cold and a heavy mist fell upon them, shrouding them like a wet blanket, sucking every bit of her warmth and energy. Her jacket worked to keep her mostly dry, but there was little getting around the wet that clung to her skin and clothes, the damp wheedling its way to her very core.
Iain kept shooting her glances, his gaze intense as if trying to reassure her that things would work out. MacTavish trailed behind them, his gun never wavering, even as they started the climb up the hill with Iain leading the way.
They were heading to the tunnels, the mist changing to a bone-chilling rain. Cat wondered if Iain might lead them elsewhere to try and save the Hope from falling into MacTavish’s hands, but evidently not. She supposed it was necessary, and in the end the necklace might not be there at all. In their predicament, she didn’t know whether to hope for it to be found or for it to remain tucked away safe.
Cat’s mind kept racing, jumping from one thought to another. She was desperate to find a way to get rid of MacTavish so they’d be safe, but her mind also kept straying to Iain and the words he’d spoken the night before. How could he possibly ask her to marry him? He couldn’t be serious. Iain MacCraigh—married? The tabloids would have a field day—Scotland’s most eligible bachelor proposing marriage after mere weeks. The gossip alone would have Iain backtracking faster than a politician on a campaign-time promise.
It’d be insane to marry him. And yet…
When exactly she’d fallen in love with him, she couldn’t say, despite her best efforts to keep things casual between them. With a glance in Iain’s direction, she took him in—the dark stubble across his strong jaw, his dark disheveled locks wet with rain, and those piercing blue eyes that made her pulse flutter. And now, with a gun at their back, she might not ever get to tell him that she loved him. He might never know how she truly felt about him.
The climb grew steep, and despite her missteps, MacTavish and Iain managed the climb with little difficulty. When Iain tried to give her a hand, MacTavish growled at him to keep his distance.
Iain stopped where he was, holding onto a branch for support. “If ye’re not going to let me help her, then at least let her go ahead of us, so I can help her if she falls.”
“I’ll manage, Iain.” They both ignored her.
“How much farther?”
“Just ahead, but it’s a steep climb from here to the cave’s entrance.” With jaw tight, Iain stood his ground, his eyes locked on MacTavish—but first he’d given her a quick glance.
It made her wonder if he was up to something. And if he was going to try something, when would he attempt it? The climb was indeed steep. Would it be a push down the hill with the hope of escape? Or wait until the darkness of the tunnels masked their movements.
“Very well—let her take the lead. But try anything and I’ll put a bullet through ye. Are we clear?”
“Aye. We are.” Iain turned away from MacTavish and gave her a small nod to tell her to continue on her way. “Be careful, love. It’ll get steeper just before the entrance.”
With the rain refusing to let up, Cat worked her way up the muddy slope, more often than not on all fours, grasping at whatever she could for a secure hold. She was nearly there. Pushing past the branches that partially obscured the opening from view, she pulled herself in. It seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up, when Iain would make it into the dark tunnel before MacTavish. She looked around for a branch to use as weapon, but there was little to be found.
Iain scrambled in and rushed to her side. “Get as far back as ye can. Go!”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me. Go, Cat. Now.”
She did as he asked, her pulse thundering as the adrenaline and fear kicked in. Yet why was it she suddenly wanted to tell him everything she’d kept bottled up inside? Why was it she desperately wanted to tell him that she loved him?
MacTavish started to climb into the tunnel when Iain tackled him, grabbing for the gun as a shot ricocheted off the rock wall, deafening in the small space. Cat held her breath as they struggled, each lurch driving them closer to the edge. Iain pounded MacTavish’s hand against the rock face, knocking the gun away. Getting free of MacTavish’s hold, Iain pushed him towards the edge, but the old man was still quick and strong, and before he went over the steep drop, he grabbed Iain.
And they were gone.
Panic sucked the breath from her lungs as she rushed over, hoping there was something there to break Iain’s fall. A cry escaped her lips, not wanting to believe what she saw. He looked broken and mangled, his leg impaled on a broken branch. Slipping her way down the hill while grabbing at branches to slow her descent, she scooted towards them as fast as she could, hoping Iain was still alive. MacTavish seemed to have broken some of Iain’s fall, catching the brunt of the injuries from the rocks below.
“Iain. Talk to me.” She touched his cheek, hoping he’d come to. She glanced at his leg, wondering if she should remove the branch sticking through his leg, but worried she might cause the bleeding to increase. “Iain, please.”
He was breathing. That was something, but she wasn’t sure of what internal injuries he may have sustained. She tried her cell phone, but there was no reception.
“Cat…”
Relief flooded over her. “Bloody hell, Iain. You shouldn’t have done it. Damn the necklace. You could have been killed.”
“MacTavish?” His face tightened with pain as he tried to turn towards the reason they were in this mess.
She shifted over and checked the man’s pulse, before taking a closer look. “I think he’s dead. I’m afraid his head hit a rock. Your leg…”
“Best if we leave it. Call Angus. I don’t want him stumbling onto the group at the house.” He coughed and wheezed, making her heart lurch with worry.
“I have no reception. Maybe if I head back towards the house.” The thought of leaving him in the condition he was in had her stomach knots.
“Call him and then call the police.” He reached up to touch her face. “Don’t look so worried, love. I’ll manage.”
“Damn it, Iain. I love you.”
“Aye, lass. I know—and I love ye also. With all my heart.” He coughed, the sound of it wet and rattling in his lungs. “Go, love. I’ll manage ‘til ye get back. And once ye do, I hope ye know I’ll be marrying ye.”
She blinked back her tears and kissed him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
***
Cat watched as Iain was taken away on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. She had desperately wanted to go with him, but there was no room in the vehicle and the police still needed to speak to her. They’d already arrested the men who’d come with MacTavish, but there was still James and Malcolm to deal with. Malcolm might get off easy, depending on his involvement. But James? Well, he’d messed with the wrong girl for the last time.
Once inside, Cat answered their questions as best she could, itching to get to Iain’s side. The cop she was dealing with was the same one who’d taken a statement from them after MacTavish first showed up, so he already knew of their previous troubles.
“I’ll call when I have more information. I’m afraid I’ll need you to stay in town until this is sorted.” He got to his feet and flipped closed his notebook.
“There’s one more thing.” She went into the library, grabbed her laptop, and handed it to the police. “I’m sure you’ll find the evidence you need. James may not have had anything to do with the men that were here, but he did hack into my computer with the purpose of stealing my research.”
James, dealing with another officer, overheard her. “You wouldn’t dare press charges.” He went red in the face, stammering in his fury—as if Cat cared a flying whoop.
“Wouldn’t I?”
The cop who’d taken her laptop turned a steely gaze on James. “I think it best you come with us to the station. I’m going to have some more questions for you.”
With everyone else gone, Cat turned to Angus, her defenses finally crumbling as she fought back tears, overwhelmed with worry about Iain. “I don’t know where the hospital is.”
Angus put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick hug. “I’ll take ye to him.”
“You saw him—will he be ok?”
“I think so, lass.”
Chapter Twenty
Having dug through the dirt wall blocking the metal gate from view, Iain and Angus now worked on cutting through the bolt. It had taken Iain several weeks to heal, and during that time Cat had refused to go back to the tunnel without him. With his leg finally allowing him to climb, they’d returned to see if they’d finally found the Highlander’s Hope.