Notorious in a Kilt

by Anna Durand

  Part of me—the remnants of that stupid, silly college girl who'd adored this man—urged me to let him in. A few minutes, nothing more. Hear him out, send him on his way.

  Maybe I should confront my past, so I could lay it to rest once and for all.

  I swung the door open, stepping aside and waving an arm. "Get in here and say whatever it is you think you need to say. I'll listen, but you will leave once you're done."

  He ambled into the house, hat in hand, and dropped his duffel bag on the wood floor.

  I shut the door, feeling like the dumbest supposedly mature woman on earth.

  "What I have to say," he told me, "is simple. I never should've let you go without a fight, and I won't make that mistake again. I've come to win you back, Rae."

  Chapter Two

  Iain

  I watched Rae's jaw drop as she shook her head slowly. Aye, I'd shocked the poor lass. Considering how long I'd waited to find her, I couldn't blame Rae for thinking I was daft. All those years ago, I had never intended to seduce her. For ten months, I'd done nothing except talk to her, spend time with her—and not once had I held her hand, much less kissed her. Until that night. We had, well, fallen into each other's arms.

  No, not fallen. We slid gradually down that slippery slope, the professor and the undergraduate, convincing ourselves we were friends until, on the night that changed everything, we'd given in to our real feelings for each other.

  I couldn't resist drinking in her appearance one more time. She was bonnier than ever, her body more mature and with new curves that enhanced her sensual beauty. I loved her breasts, her voluptuous hips, that sun-kissed skin. Her hair that had once hung midway down her back now bounced just above her shoulders, the red tones in the auburn color more fiery than ever. Her dark-blue eyes sparkled in the rays of sunset streaming through the open door to her home. She wore blue jeans that looked well worn by work, not by stone washing or some other trendy process. Her long-sleeve denim shirt hung open to reveal the yellow T-shirt beneath it. Black boots made of rubber and fabric, and splattered with mud, covered her feet.

  We stood inside a short hallway, and I couldn't see what awaited deeper inside the house.

  An odd smell wafted past me now and again, something familiar I couldn't quite place. It reminded me of my uncle's farm. He'd fertilized his garden with manure. Well, if Rae worked with livestock, she might well get a bit of shit on her boots.

  When I'd walked up the driveway, the first thing I'd seen was Rae. The only thing I'd seen was Rae. Only after she fled into the house had I noticed the surroundings. The country was beautiful here. She seemed to own sheep, if the flock I'd spotted belonged to her. The network of fenced areas had been confusing. A paddock enclosed an area directly behind her red barn. Her home, a simply white house with two stories and a roofed porch, seemed older but well cared for.

  Ah, I had something in common with this house. I was getting older too, though I didn't have a woman like Rae to care for me. I didn't expect her to do that, though. My plans involved me taking care if her the way I should have done years ago. If she would let me.

  Rae slammed the door, eying me with suspicion.

  My plans might require a wee bit more work than I'd expected.

  "Are you high?" she said. "Because I can't see any other reason why you'd say such an insane thing."

  "Why is it insane? I loved you then, I love you now, and I'm not leaving until you're mine." It sounded simple enough to me, and rather reasonable under the circumstances.

  "Yours?" She reached for the doorknob. "I don't belong to you or anyone."

  The instant she turned the knob, I settled my hand over hers. "That's not what I meant. Could we sit down and talk? I've had a long slog up your drive."

  I let my hand linger on hers, enjoying the feel of her skin, its warmth and the softness that seemed incongruous with her apparently rugged lifestyle. How long since I'd touched her? More than a decade.

  Far too long.

  Questions about her new life reared up in my mind, but I tamed them. Interrogating her would not make her trust me again.

  I withdrew my hand, rubbing my jaw. "Could I at least have a drink of water before you toss me out? I'm parched."

  She glanced around with jerky eye movements, seeming almost frantic. "Um, I…"

  My eyes had become gritty. I ran a hand over them, yawning. Borrowing my cousin Rory's private jet had spared me the hassle of going through security, but after a six-hour flight from Scotland, I'd endured a long taxi ride here to the end of Rae's drive. My walk to her house had left me knackered.

  One side of her generous mouth crimped. She flitted her gaze over me, he lips turning down at the corners. She shut her eyes briefly, then sighed. "Much as I'd like to, I can't kick you out when you're exhausted and dehydrated."

  "Thank you." I didn't believe she wanted me out, but I wouldn't argue the point.

  "Wait here," she said, and held up a hand. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

  I admired the view of her erse as she hurried down the hallway.

  At its end, she hesitated and jabbed a finger in my direction. "Don't move."

  "You're still bonnie when you're bossy."

  Her mouth fell open again, but she snapped it shut and disappeared into the rest of the house. I heard noises of someone knocking about, rushing from room to room from the sound of it. What on earth was she doing? I'd glass of water, not a tour of her home. She had no need to tidy up the entire house for me. She was flustered and anxious, and I couldn't blame her. After so long apart, we needed time to acclimate to each other.

  Our kiss a few minutes ago had affected us both. She'd kept her eyes closed for a moment after I'd pulled away, giving me a breathtaking view of her face, those delicate features relaxed, her cheeks sprinkled with pink, her lips parted. I'd fought a powerful impulse to take her mouth again, dive in deep, satiate myself with the taste of the woman I'd dreamed about for so long. Shame had kept me from searching for her. Recent events in my extended family had shown me the folly of my ways. If I wanted the kind of life, the kind of love, my cousins had found…

  I had to risk everything for it. For her.

  A clattering issued from deeper in the house.

  What the bloody hell was the woman doing in there?

  I opened my mouth to shout that very question when Rae appeared at the end of the hallway.

  "Come on," she said. "We'll go to the kitchen. It's through the living room."

  She ushered me through the living room so swiftly I had no chance to examine its contents. A sofa, I noted. Everything else flew by in a blur as Rae grabbed my arm and hauled me onward into the kitchen. I caught a glimpse photos hung on the walls. Rae with two older people, a man and a woman who must've been her parents. Rae holding a lamb. Rae riding a horse.

  More questions surfaced, but once again, I repressed them. For now.

  She half dragged me into the kitchen and gestured for me to sit down at one of the chairs arranged around the rectangular wooden table.

  I chose the chair at the end in front of the window, lowering myself onto it with a groan of relief. Seated at an angle in the chair, I slung one arm over the back and smiled slightly at Rae.

  Sunlight streamed through the window, softened by the lace curtains, and bathed her in a warm glow that gilded her skin. Though she sported a faint tan, the creamy color of her skin and the tiny freckles that speckled it showed through. Beautiful as ever. I'd longed for this woman for thirteen years, and I couldn't give up without a fight.

  A magazine lay facedown on the table. I picked it up, and my brows cinched together when I read the title—Sheep Ranchers Quarterly. As I'd suspected, she raised sheep. I couldn't figure out why, though, since she'd had a bright future ahead of her in academia. Ah well, she'd tell me when she felt more comfortable in my presence.

  Sweat dribbled down my temple. I fanned myself with the magazine. "No central air?"

/>   "There is, but I turn it down when I'm going to be outside for a while. I cranked it up a minute ago, so it'll get cooler soon."

  "You've gotten frugal."

  "I'm not a cheapskate." From her position between the doorway and end of the table opposite me, she frowned. "I'm trying to conserve energy."

  Something in her tone of voice and the slight hunching of her shoulders gave me the idea she wasn't being frugal out of concern for the environment. "I meant no offense."

  Rae grunted, scratched her cheek, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her frown mutated into a pucker, then flattened out.

  Since she seemed to be having an inner struggle of some sort, I decided to ignore it and let her struggle on in private. Not my business—yet.

  I lifted my brows. "Water?"

  She jerked, her eyes flaring wide. "Oh, I forgot. Sorry, I'll get that for you."

  While she retrieved a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap, I watched her. As a nubile college student, she'd captivated me. As a mature woman, she entranced me. The way she moved with purpose, even while flustered. The way she challenged me with her words and with her body language. The way she'd let me kiss her.

  The Rae I'd known before would've blushed if I'd dragged her in for a kiss like that. The woman bustling about in this kitchen today had not only permitted the kiss, she'd reciprocated.

  Rae spun around and thrust the glass at me.

  Water splashed onto my shoulder.

  "Sorry," she mumbled, snatching a dish towel from the counter and mopping at the wet spot on my shirt.

  Her breasts rose and fell on quick breaths while her delicate fingers pressed into my flesh. I wanted to pull her onto my lap for another, more forceful kiss. I wanted to devour her from head to toe. I wanted…everything with her.

  Take it slow, ye eejit. Help her trust you.

  I laid my hand over hers, stilling her fingers. "Easy, lass. I willnae bite."

  She stared down at me, her pupils large, her lips pinker than before.

  Desire. Oh aye, the signs were unmistakable. Sex might be my way in with her.

  And since sex was the one thing I knew I could succeed at, unlike my nonexistent relationship skills, I should rely on my strengths. Seduce her into bed to seduce her into loving me again.

  The fact I would enjoy seducing her had no relevance to my new plan. No, none at all.

  I set down the magazine and withdrew my hand from hers, taking the glass. "Thank you."

  "You're, uh, welcome."

  "Don't suppose I could trouble you for a wee piece."

  "A what?" She hesitated for only a moment before realization dawned on her lovely face. "You want a snack."

  "You remember what 'piece' means."

  "Mm-hm. You really want a snack?"

  I sipped my water. "Aye, if it's not too much trouble."

  "You did walk half a mile to get here. Sure, I can make you a sandwich."

  "Donnae go to the trouble for me." I waved toward a clear glass jar on the counter and the cookies stacked inside it. "One of those will do."

  "Peanut butter cookies?"

  "Sounds good. Protein and sugar, my two favorite food groups."

  "Uh-huh." She looked dubious but carried the cookie jar to the table and set it down in front of me. "Knock yourself out."

  I lifted the lid, leaned in, and closed my eyes while I inhaled deeply. Nutty, sweet, inviting. My stomach growled. I couldn't help the smile of ultimate satisfaction that tightened my lips. "Ahhhh, the scent of heaven."

  "Never thought of peanut butter as heavenly."

  I plucked a cookie out of the jar. "Don't you like these cookies?"

  A half-stifled laugh snorted out of her. "Yeah, sweets and I have a love-hate relationship."

  "Why is that?" I offered her the cookie.

  She accepted the offering and flopped into the chair next to mine. "I love to eat them, but I tend to go a little overboard and get an upset stomach."

  "Ah," I said, grabbing a cookie and leaning back in my chair. "I was thinking you'd say sweets are bad for your figure. Most women have a complex about gaining even one ounce."

  "Not me." Rae snapped off a large bite of cookie, gnawing on it with a delightful lack of concern for being ladylike, relishing the peanut-buttery goodness with a little moan. "Most women either have a man or are looking to get one. This makes them obsessed with staying thin. I don't give a hoot about my weight, since I'm not interested in men anymore."

  I froze with a cookie raised to my open mouth. "What?"

  "I'm not a lesbian or anything," she explained, "but I have responsibilities that make dating way too complicated."

  The woman I planned to seduce claimed to have no interest in men. I sensed a story behind her statement, and this time I would ask.

  I took a bite of the cookie, chewing while I studied her. Swallowing, I tipped my cookie in her direction. "What sort of responsibilities?"

  "This is a working ranch. I own it and run it by myself, except for one ranch hand."

  "A sheep ranch." He nodded at the magazine on the table.

  "Yes, sheep. I raise them for the wool and sell some of them to people who want them for pets or for the wool. I'm looking to branch out into other avenues of income, though."

  "Interesting. Not seeing the relevance to celibacy, though."

  "Running this ranch takes a lot of time."

  I swept my gaze around the room. "You live here alone?"

  "No." She wolfed down another massive bite of cookie. "I have a daughter. The rest of my time is devoted to raising my child."

  I cocked my head, afflicted with a sudden fascination for every aspect of her life. "How old is your daughter?"

  Her face went slack, and she stopped blinking. "Old enough to be a handful."

  "Where is she? It's summer, so I'm assuming she's not in school."

  "Ma—" She bit down on her lower lip, held it for a heartbeat, then released it. "She's visiting her grandmother."

  I opened my mouth to ask more questions.

  She held up a hand. "Enough prying into my life. Why are you here?"

  "To win you back."

  Rolling her eyes, she scarfed down the last piece of her cookie. "That's not an answer. Not a complete one, anyway. It's been a long, long time, Iain. Why now?"

  I polished off my own cookie, wiped my hands on my pants, and sighed. "A friend of mine got married recently. For several months before that, it seemed like he'd lost the woman he loved for good. He'd hurt her badly, and she didn't trust him not to do it again. But he vowed to do whatever it took to earn back her trust and her love, even though it meant humiliating himself to please her overprotective brothers." I laid a hand on the table, fingers bent. "I thought if he could do win back the woman he loved, I might have a chance too."

  "Right." Arms folded over her chest, she scrutinized my face. "Did your friend wait a decade and a half?"

  "No." My lips twisted into a rueful smile. "Only I am that much of an eejit."

  Her toes tapped on the wood floor. "When the shit hit the fan, you bolted for Scotland. I needed you, and you abandoned me."

  She'd needed me? Of course she had. I'd thought of nothing but my own shame, fleeing to avoid a fate I'd feared all my life—becoming a criminal. How could she understand that? I'd have to tell her everything, eventually. For today, I could offer her an honest answer to the unspoken question in her statement.

  With my elbow on the table, I raised my hand to plant my forehead in my palm. "I didn't mean to abandon you. I wanted to stay, more than anything."

  "You accidentally stumbled onto a plane to Scotland."

  "No." I lifted my head to gaze at her, a chill washing through me. "I wasn't just fired, Rae. I was forced out of the country."

  Chapter Three

  Rae

  "Forced out?" I searched his face, but he showed me nothing more informative than a blan
d expression. Iain had two modes of facial expression—casually bland and casually cheerful. Nothing got him riled up, nothing made him let loose a belly laugh, and nothing stripped away his calm demeanor even during sex.

  Frat boys may have nicknamed him the Notorious Dr. MacT, but to me he would always be the Unflappable Iain MacTaggart.

  "I'll tell ye the story later," he said, his voice as bland as his face. "After we've gotten accustomed to each other again."

  "Accustomed, acclimated, whatever. None of that is happening."

  He took a long drink of water, keeping his hand around the glass when he set it down on the table. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. All I'm asking for is a chance."

  "To do what, exactly?"

  "We had a good thing once. Let's find out if we could have that again."

  I spread my hands on my thighs, whisking them up and down to wipe off the clamminess. Once upon a time, he'd made me nervous in a deliciously fluttery way. Now, he made me antsy in a very unpleasant way. Keeping secrets sucked. "We didn't have a thing, good or bad. We hung out for a while and then we slept together once. It was a fantasy, not a relationship."

  Which one of us was I trying to convince?

  His fingers tightened around the glass, then relaxed. Tightened, relaxed.

  "Deceive yourself if you like, gràidh," he said, his voice soft and warm as a silky bubble bath, "but we had a relationship. It was good. It was real."

  Gràidh. He'd called me that several times during our…acquaintance, but I'd never asked what it meant or what language he was speaking, too infatuated to think about such things. My foolish heart had overridden my common sense. For all I knew, he'd been calling me "moron."

  No, he wouldn't do that. Whatever his faults, Iain was never cruel. He came with an arsenal of qualities designed to make any heterosexual woman fling herself at him, and those qualities had only intensified since the last time I'd seen him. The light stubble on his face, the hint of a scar on his nose, the more-chiseled physique…How was I supposed react to all of this? Charming, sexy, determined, and he'd traveled thousands of miles solely to find me.