by Anna Durand
Iain sighed, but it came out more like a growl. "He's an expert at catching sheep, is he?"
"Thought you weren't jealous of him anymore."
"Ahmno jealous."
"Whatever you say." I patted his chest. "Relax, Ben doesn't get as dirty as you are because he lets me catch the sheep."
No doubt about it this time. Iain growled.
He stepped back, spreading an arm wide. "Have at it, mistress of the sheep."
"I'm a shepherdess, not a mistress."
"Haud yer wheesht, and catch the bloody little fuckers."
"I have no idea what you're telling me to do first, but the sheep part I got."
With those brawny arms barred over his chest, he said, "It's simple. 'Haud yer wheesht' means keep your lovely little mouth shut." His attention swerved to my lips. "Or I'll keep ye quiet mah own way."
His way? That involved teasing me with chaste kisses he somehow turned into erotic play. If he planned on kissing me deeply this time, I might keep yammering just to make him do it.
"Are you two gonna deworm the sheep or what?"
Ben's hollered question ripped me out of my fantasy of Iain ravishing me with a bone-melting kiss.
I glanced around. "Where's the drenching gun?"
"No bloody idea," Iain said. "I dropped it somewhere."
With an effort to remain casual and relaxed, I meandered among the sheep until I spotted the drenching gun on the ground. The big syringe featured a bent metal tip for administering the deworming liquid. I'd loaded the syringe, but Iain had insisted on doing the job himself.
I returned Iain, who hadn't budged an inch. "Got it."
He grunted, his gaze on the sheep.
"Sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have let you run around flailing at my sheep for so long."
One of the sheep nuzzled Iain's palm as if apologizing for being so difficult to wrangle. He grudgingly scratched the critter's chin.
"Making friends?" I said.
"Surrendering is more like it. They won the battle."
"Hold this," I said, handing him the drenching gun.
I approached sheep nearest me, slowly, and took the animal's jaw in my hand while exerting the lightest pressure to lift it. My other hand on the critter's shoulder kept her from backing away.
"Good sheepie," I murmured. "That's a good little sheepie. It's time for your medicine, that's all."
Swinging one leg over the sheep's back, I straddled her. To Iain, I said, "Bring me the drenching gun. And try to channel your inner unflappable nature."
With amazing calmness and ease, considering the debacle moments ago, he approaching the sheep and me, handing over the drenching gun. I slipped the tip into her mouth and injected the deworming liquid.
Iain gave me an appreciative nod. "You make it look easy."
"Experience is on my side."
"You catch them, and I'll squirt the medicine into their mouths."
I released the sheep, and she scampered away. "Sure you're up for this?"
"Aye."
We treated the rest of the flock together with no more incidents. Iain even started calling them "sheepies" and whispering foreign phrases to them. I was pretty sure he'd called some of them "gràidh," but I couldn't decide if I should be offended by that. When I'd brought in the last five sheep, Iain had set his hands on his hips and studied the animals with a crease deepening between his brows, right over his nose.
After a moment, he waved a finger at the sheep. "These ones look different."
"Bonus points for the Scot," I said. "You noticed the different breeds. The very woolly sheep are Delaine Merinos, great for harvesting fine wool. These guys are East Friesian. They're dairy sheep, which means they produce good milk. I also get some wool from them."
"I see." He scratched his chin. "Not sure I understand what you do with them, but I see they're different breeds."
We released the flock into the pasture, and Iain had just turned away from the field when he got nudged by a large body. He stumbled forward, caught himself, and spun around.
His eyes flew wide. He stumbled backward this time, straight into the paddock fence. "What the bloody fuck is that?"
My llama, Lily, edged closer to inspect him face to face. The top of her head was only a couple inches below the top of Iain's. She stretched her long neck to sniff his nose.
Iain held stock-still, eyes still wide. Barely moving his lips, he muttered, "What is this thing?"
"Oh come on," I said. "You must've seen a llama before. Lily's sweetie. And look, her eyes are almost the same color blue as yours. No wonder she's smitten."
He rotated his eyes to glance at me without moving his head.
I took pity on him and shooed Lily away. The llama trotted off to join the flock.
The big, strong man huddling by the fence slumped against it. "Ye could've warned me."
"About Lily? I forgot. We put her in the barn while we're deworming the sheep." I walked to Iain and patted his arm. "Ben must've let her out. Sorry she scared you."
He straightened and rolled his shoulders back. "Not scared. That creature surprised me."
Okay, I'd let him get away with claiming surprise.
After we, with Ben's help, completed the rest of the tasks for the day, the three of us sat on the porch sipping tea. Iain and I occupied the porch swing while Ben had taken one of the two padded chairs. Iain had chosen to sit at the opposite end of the swing from me, leaving a gap of a couple feet between his, and I couldn't decide how I felt about that.
Ben set his tea mug down on the floorboards of the porch. "Think you two can handle this place by yourselves while I'm gone?"
"Gone?" I stared at him like he'd spouted foreign phrases the way Iain did.
"Yeah," Ben said. "Told you, I'm leaving for my sister's wedding tomorrow. This was my last day."
Oh shit. I'd completely forgotten. Me and Iain alone for nine more days? I'd thought I'd have Ben as a buffer in the daytime, but now I'd have nothing and no one to keep me from giving in to my lust.
Willpower. I had willpower. What else did I need?
"You forgot," Ben said. "It's only two weeks, then I'll be back. Besides, Iain seems plenty strong enough to get the job done while I'm gone."
I felt Iain watching me even before I noticed it in my peripheral vision. Get the job done? Oh yeah, Iain could do that for sure.
"Better get going," Ben said, rising from his chair. "Got packing to finish."
After wishing Ben a fun trip and giving him a quick goodbye hug, I claimed the chair Ben had vacated. The seat was still warm. If Iain had sat here, I would've relished having his heat under my bottom. Ben had no such effect on me. No man other than Iain had ever affected this way.
Never mind that, I chastised myself. Yes, I had other matters to discuss with him.
I crossed my legs, angling them away from Iain where he sat on the swing, and folded my hands over my belly. "It's time you told me about that day."
Chapter Seven
Iain
That day. Rae wanted the truth, deserved the truth. I braced one ankle atop the other knee, striving for a serenity I didn't feel. Rae's nickname for me, the Unflappable Iain MacTaggart, described me well enough—but it discounted the deeply hidden parts of me. She'd glimpsed those parts, the things I'd learned to control and ignore, when I let my jealousy show today. If I wanted a future with her, I had to be honest about everything.
Could I show her the darkest parts of me? Would she understand and forgive?
I didn't deserve it, for certain. When I had asked my cousin Rory for help in tracking down Rae, he'd assured me everyone deserves a second chance. I'd believed him then, but now I wondered.
Small steps. I wouldn't throw everything at her at once. Giving the lass time to adjust to each revelation seemed the most prudent approach.
Oh aye, it was prudent. And revealing the whole picture to her little by little had nothing at al
l to do with fear.
Bloody liar.
I rubbed my eyes, and avoiding Rae's inquisitive gaze, I explained. "That day, when I arrived at my office three security guards were waiting for me. They'd dumped all my files into garbage bags. I asked what was going on, and one of the guards informed me I was to go with them to the president's office at once. The guards escorted me across campus to the office of the university president, but he wasn't the only one there. The dean of the humanities department, my superior, was there. And so was Conrad Bremner-Ashton, the father of your charming roommate."
Rae snorted. "Cecilia Bremner-Ashton, aka CeCe, aka the Wicked Witch of the Midwest."
I couldn't help smiling a little at Rae's statement. CeCe had been her roommate for the full ten months during which I'd known Rae. CeCe's family had owned the town of Nackington, Wisconsin, and the educational institution that bore its name. Nackington University had been founded by an Englishman who emigrated to America in the nineteenth century. That man could never have envisioned what would become of his brainchild. In the nineteen thirties, the Bremner-Ashton family had move into Nackington and taken over the town and the university thanks to the fortune they'd amassed as robber barons during the early decades of the twentieth century.
Conrad Bremner-Ashton had been the school's single largest donor during my time there. That fact, along with his shady connections and shadier business practices, had made Conrad the de facto leader of his unofficial mafia. No one dared cross the Bremner-Ashtons.
"I didn't realize at the time," I said, "how nefarious the Bremner-Ashtons were. I'd had little contact with them until that day. Conrad did the talking while President Schaech and Dean Milton sat by and watched. I was informed I would be deported by force unless I agreed to leave the country and never return. Conrad also threatened to punish you unless I complied."
Though I hesitated, Rae did not speak. I couldn't look at her, not yet, or I'd never finish the story.
"I didn't want to abandon you," I said. "But the choice was simple. I could stay and try to fight the most powerful family in the Midwestern United States, or I could leave and spare you from their wrath. I wanted to call you, to let you know, to say goodbye…but they took me into custody, like they were their own police force. I was escorted to my apartment and allowed to pack one bag, then I was escorted to the airport."
Still nothing from Rae. No words. No sounds. Nothing to indicate she was there.
I risked glancing at her.
Rae hadn't moved. Her gaze stayed on me, but her expression was unreadable.
The swing's seat felt harder suddenly, and I shifted my body to find a more comfortable position. No luck with that. The discomfort originated inside me, not with the cushion under me or the wood beneath that.
At last, she lay her arms on the chair's arms and spoke. "That's what you think. You spared me."
"I'm not claiming to be a hero, but I did what I had to do to protect you." I bent forward, elbows on my knees, and stared at the porch floor. "Every day since, I've regretted not fighting for you, for us. But if I had…I don't know what the Bremner-Ashtons would've done. CeCe accused me of sexually harassing her. They brought her in just before the guards took me away. She gave a fantastic performance, crying and stammering. She said I seduced you and then I tried to do the same to her. What could I do? Leaving spared you."
Rae pursed her lips, one toe tapping on the porch floor. "You didn't spare me, Iain. They announced I'd gotten an A in your class strictly because I was putting out, so they changed my grade to an F. That left me one credit short of graduating. I was also expelled from Nackington. I tried to get into another college, any college, to finish my degree, but anyplace I applied to had to request my transcripts from Nackington, and they'd see the F in Celtic History. They'd want an explanation, and I couldn't give one. So they'd call Nackington and hear the whole sordid story. I gave up on college."
The full force of what she'd just said slammed into me. I couldn't speak, and the only part of me that moved was my eyes. I swiveled them to her, overwhelmed by a coldness that penetrated to the core of my being. It couldn't be true, but Rae wouldn't lie.
"Rae, I—" Unable to move, I flapped my jaw a few times. A tactic certain to make her swoon with desire for me. "They said if I—"
"You took the word of people who threw you out of the country."
Bloody eejit. She was right, and I was an ersehole of the first order. How could I explain why I'd fled without a fight? If she knew my family's history, she might not want to get tangled up in it. If I didn't tell her, she would never understand my actions. Either way, I'd lose her.
I ran a hand over my mouth and looked straight at Rae. "I shouldn't have believed Conrad and his minions, but I had…reasons for the way I behaved. It's complicated, and I'd rather not go into it just now. Believe me when I say I've regretted abandoning you every day of the last thirteen years, and I will never leave you again."
Her lips twitched downward, quivering faintly, but she expression remained defiant—her voice too. "It doesn't matter. I am never getting involved with you again, not the way you want."
"Why am I here, then? You've agreed to let me stay until Saturday next."
She stared at me, and I swore I could hear the engine of her mind grumbling as she struggled to form a response. Or she might've been grumbling softly at me.
Those beautiful eyes narrowed. "How did security get to your office so fast?"
"What?"
"You dropped me off at my apartment, which was five minutes from the campus. CeCe didn't go nuclear until she saw you kissing me goodbye, and she railed at me for a good ten minutes, calling me a slut and bitch, before she stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door. I assume that's when she called her father to make her ridiculous claim that you'd sexually harassed her. I heard her shouting for another ten minutes, at least. It had to have been an hour before security would've gotten to your office."
Ah, the time gap. I'd hoped she wouldn't notice. Telling her why I'd been delayed would bring on more questions, and I doubted she would appreciate the answers.
Of course she noticed the discrepancy. Rae was too canny not to notice.
I laid my arm across the swing's back, running finger over the smooth wood. "I had errands to run."
"Errands? That's not good enough, Iain." She leaned forward, her razor-sharp gaze pinned to me. "Where were you?"
"Running errands," I said carefully, emphasizing each syllable. "Leave it, Rae. Please."
She scrutinized me for a long moment, then collapsed back against her chair. "Fine, have your secrets. Just don't expect me to trust you as long as you're keeping things from me."
"Have you told me all your secrets?"
A chagrined look flashed on her face but dissipated swiftly. "I told you everything related to the day that ruined my life. The rest is none of your business."
I tapped my finger on the swing. "Why don't you want me to meet your daughter? You were prepared to introduce her to the scunner who owns the taxi service."
"That was a test. I had a feeling he was only interested in sex, but I couldn't know for sure unless I gave him an opportunity to prove me wrong. He didn't."
My turn to fall silent and study her. Her arms rested on the chair's arms, but her fingers tapped in a restless rhythm. Though she frowned, her eyes evinced fear. I couldn't describe the look in her eyes. I sensed the fear in them.
"Listen," she said, "I tried dating after my daughter was born. But I realized pretty quickly my daughter's well-being had to be my number-one priority. I would not bring a parade of men into our home, only to have each of them leave. Kids don't understand why adults go away, and I would not put my kid through that over and over just so I could have a boyfriend. I tried a few more times over the years, going on dates while my daughter was in school. I lost interest. Protecting my child is my top priority, and that is why you will never meet her."
She mi
ght as well have stabbed me in the chest. The pang that radiated through me originated there, though it was a phantom pain. Rae didn't trust me at all. Her words told me as much. And yet, she let me sleep in her house, let me kiss her, let me handle her sheep. Not that my activities in the paddock had qualified as handling. The wee creatures had seemed to find it as humorous as Rae had.
I hadn't come this far, traveling thousands of miles and spending significant sums of money to find her, only to turn and run back home with my tail between my legs.
Once, I'd done that. Never again.
"All right," I said, scratching my jaw, "I won't ask about your daughter again or ask why you seem to have hidden every photograph of her. Since I'd rather not tell you all my secrets yet, I can't expect you to reveal everything to me. You know why I left before. You know I want to make it up to you and have a fresh start. But—" I pulled in a deep breath, not wanting to say the words but knowing I had to. "—if after nine more days you want me to go, I will. Give me, give us, these days to get reacquainted. I will tell you more, eventually. All I'm asking is for a bit more time."
She squished her lips into a tight pucker, then exhaled a long breath that deflated her shoulders and softened her expression. "Fine."
The tension in me sifted away too, and I relaxed into the swing. A change of subject seemed in order. "You'd forgotten Ben was leaving, hadn't you?"
"Yeah."
"I have you all to myself for nine days."
She rolled her eyes. "Ben is only here three days a week, anyway. I already knew I'd be alone with you for most of the time."
I smirked. "But now you'll have to restrain your lust for me for nine entire days and nights with no one else around to make you behave."
Her lips curved up into a faint smile. "You're confusing me with twenty-two-year-old Rae who salivated at the sight of you in a kilt. I'm a mature single mother these days, and men in skirts don't impress me anymore."
"A kilt is not a skirt." Damn if I hadn't sounded irritated. This new and improved version of Rae made me lose my grip on the calm demeanor I'd spent years perfecting. It wasn't an act, but I had needed practice to come to terms with my da's behavior and find an inner peace. Rae erased all my work with one word—skirt.