The horse moved forward and she threw her arms around his waist, an involuntary gasp escaping her lips.
“Don’t worry. I haven’t dropped a damsel in distress yet.”
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, but now that she’d managed to lower her gaze, she couldn’t force herself to meet those eyes again. Fortunately someone yelled and attracted his attention, removing the necessity of her having to respond. She felt as though she’d been saved since she wasn’t sure she would have been able to form words. Or that she could have thought of any to form.
“Hang on. We’re going in,” he murmured as he tightened his arm around her.
She risked another quick look up at the man who held her, taking him in. Long black hair tied back from his face emphasized his light skin, as did the heavy, dark five-o’clock shadow. The rising sun glinted off a small diamond stud in his earlobe and her fingers fairly itched to reach up and touch the small jewel.
Guiltily she dropped her gaze as she realized it was the man, not the jewel, she wanted to touch. Slowly, unable to resist, her eyes tracked upward, moving from his strong chin to his full lips. Those lips parted slightly, allowing straight white teeth to peek out.
“You know,” he whispered, “I only convinced them to let us in by telling them you were hurt. You might try looking at least a little pathetic.”
His words brought it all rushing back: where she was, why she was here. Everything except who this man was. She knew nothing about him except his first name and that he had rescued her from a MacPherson. Granted, that alone spoke in his favor. She wanted to question him, to know everything about him, but it looked like that particular conversation was going to have to wait for a bit.
“Here they are, yer lairdship. Just as I told you.”
“Well, let us have a look, then, at this mysterious lass who’s supposed to be a relative of ours, shall we?”
Though she didn’t recognize the first voice, there was no mistaking the second. Even nine years away hadn’t dulled her memory to that arrogant lilt.
Blane MacKiernan.
The arms around her tightened as she tried to turn to face her cousin. Ramos pulled her close, using the opportunity of dismounting to whisper in her ear.
“Think hard before you speak. Remember where we are and choose your words wisely.”
She bit back the growl rising in her throat.
Who does he think he is? Where does he get off giving me orders like some kind of…
The thought died a rapid death as it rammed up against another memory. A memory of his hoisting her off the floor with one arm and carrying her downstairs, of his pushing her behind him in the castle entryway, of his total take-charge attitude.
He was one of those overprotective he-men, determined he was the only one who knew what needed to be done. Just like her brother. Just like Jesse. Just like every man she’d been surrounded by her whole life.
Ugh.
She’d be tempted to tell him what she thought right now if not for the strength of the arms that held her. The smell of soap and leather that emanated from his skin. The soft feel of his hair against her cheek.
And, she hastily added to herself, the current situation.
It wasn’t because of him she held her tongue. It was the people who listened.
Sure. That was it.
“This woman is your cousin. We’ve traveled a great distance to bring her here to meet with her kin. She’s been hurt on the journey and I need a place to attend to her wounds.”
Ramos spoke as he held her face against his shoulder, apparently not trusting her to have the good sense to speak for herself. It was only his hand at the base of her neck, massaging lightly, that kept her there, but somehow that touch had the power to hold her speechless.
“Verra well. Bring her inside. Lady Rosalyn should be down by now. She’ll attend to the lass’s injury.”
“No. She’s my responsibility. I’ll deal with her injuries. I simply need a safe place to do so.” Though Ramos walked rapidly, there was no effort betrayed in his voice, as if he were carrying nothing at all.
Up the stairs and into the Great Hall, Mairi knew from memory the route they took.
“Ready?” His breath against her ear sent shivers over her skin.
“Damn straight, caveman. Put me down,” she mumbled against his shoulder, irritated when she once again felt a chuckle rumble through his chest.
He gently sat her on a bench and backed away, kneeling at her side. She barely had time to register surprise at the sense of loss she felt when his touch was withdrawn before she looked up into a face she had thought she would never see again. Her aunt had aged since the last time Mairi had seen her, was a bit heavier, but was still a beautiful woman.
“Rosalyn,” she exclaimed, surging to her feet, only to be brought up short by a sharp stab of pain in her foot.
“Mairi?” Her aunt’s hand flew to her mouth and just as quickly returned to her side. Her face betrayed no emotion as her eyes flickered from Mairi to Ramos. “You must bring her to my chambers immediately, young man. Blane”—she turned to her nephew—“quit gaping. Our…cousin requires our assistance. Follow me.” She turned and marched out of the room, quite clearly expecting her instructions to be heeded.
Ramos, who had leaped up as Mairi had risen, now swept her off her feet, bringing her face close to his. There was no humor in his eyes when hers met them.
“Dammit, you’re bleeding again.” He shook his head and took the stairs two at a time. “Stupid,” he muttered under his breath.
His classically bossy remark deserved some sort of snippy response, but she simply didn’t have it in her. Instead she laid her head against his shoulder and sniffled rather loudly. It was the closest she would allow herself to come to crying in front of anyone.
So far her quest hadn’t gone all that well. She was tired and dirty, her foot throbbed like crazy, and she had some macho man lecturing her. Still, she thought as she snuggled her head a little closer, things could be a lot worse.
How could I have been so stupid?
Ramos shook his head again. He knew Mairi had only just come to. The magic had taken its toll on her. He should have had more sense than to have let go of her. Now look what his carelessness had caused.
Mairi sat on a low stool in front of a large fireplace in what appeared to be a sitting room. The woman, her aunt Rosalyn, was across the room at last, still sniffling, sorting through dried plants and bandages and who knew what else, speaking softly to Blane.
It had taken a good five minutes to pull her and Mairi apart once they had reached the privacy of this room. He had neither the time nor the patience to deal with their emotional reunion. Mairi’s injury was his first priority.
Ramos glanced down at the foot propped on his knee. Blood oozed from the wound on her heel, freshly broken open. It was swollen and dirty and, based on her reaction when he brushed his thumb across it, whatever had caused the injury was still imbedded in the flesh.
“Any idea what you stepped on?” Might as well get as much information up front as possible. While she could still give it.
“Rotting wood is my guess. I saw a pile of it in the middle of the room.” One perfect eyebrow arched. “Unfortunately I dinna see it in time.”
“Wood.” Rotted, at that. Probably counted for bonus points in the Germ and Disease category. “I sure hope your shots are up-to-date, my sweet.”
“As a matter of fact, I’ve been inoculated for just about every disease you can imagine that has a preventative immunization.”
“Really? How did you manage something like that?”
Her cheeks turned an attractive pink before she answered. “I spent months preparing for this…this trip. Quite simply, I lied. I told the doctor I would be visiting several third-world countries this summer.”
“Good planning.” She was proving to be as intelligent as everyone had told him. “Too bad you didn’t include shoes in the process.”
Her lips
compressed into a thin line. “It’s no like I planned to leave them behind. No wearing them is just such a habit.”
He pressed on the sides of her heel and she flinched, grabbing the edges of the stool on which she sat. Before he continued, he glanced at her fingers, already changing color with the strength of the grip she had on the seat.
“Whatever it is, it’s going to have to come out.” He spoke quietly, for her benefit only.
“I know.” She shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly, as if she had no cares. “In spite of what you may think, I’m no stupid.”
“I didn’t think you were. This is going to hurt.” He watched her face for any reaction.
There was none. “Naturally. It hurt going in. I would expect it to hurt coming out.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
He glanced over his shoulder at Rosalyn and Blane. They were still in the far corner of the room, carrying on a quiet argument, by the looks of it. They were busy and that was what he needed right now. He quickly untied the bag he’d brought with him, removed a smaller leather pouch and, with one last assessing glance toward the others, pulled from it a small syringe.
“No.” Her voice wavered slightly. “Just go ahead and take it out. I dinna want any of that…whatever it is.”
Ramos bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Like he was asking her permission. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to zap yourself home right now?”
She shook her head. “No way. I’m here for a purpose. I’ll go home when I’ve completed what I came to do and no one second before that.”
He gently lay her foot on top of his pack and leaned close, as if to whisper his response. At least he hoped she would assume that’s what he was doing as he slipped one arm around her shoulders.
“I was afraid that was what you were going to say,” he murmured in her ear as he slipped the point of the needle into her muscle.
“Hey.” She looked down at her arm as he backed off, then glared at him. “What was that?”
“A very small dose of Ketamine and a wide-spectrum antibiotic.”
Her eyes began to blink slowly. “Ketamine,” she murmured. “A sedative? You drugged me? After I told you no to? What if I’m allergic? You dinna even ask.”
“I don’t have to ask, my sweet. I know everything about you. Don’t worry.” He pulled her forward, laying her face-first on her stomach on the floor.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she mumbled, trying to lift her head.
The drugs were already taking effect.
“This position makes it much easier to deal with your foot. Now just relax, and in a couple of minutes you won’t feel a thing.”
“We are having one serious talk about your attitude when I…” The sedative kicked in before she could finish, her lovely blue eyes fluttering shut.
He didn’t need to stifle his smile this time. She was out, but he was willing to bet there’d be hell to pay when she woke up. The real, live Mairi MacKiernan had spirit. That little fact hadn’t been anywhere in the paperwork he’d studied on her.
He pulled several small disposable packets of antibiotic wash from his bag, opened one and doused his hands with it. Next he took a sterile bag from his leather case and ripped it open, removing a small, sharp surgical knife and clamp.
“Well, young man, as you’ve got yer hands all over my niece’s bare leg, perhaps you’d like to tell me exactly who you are?”
Ramos barely spared a glance to the woman who stood beside him, but her being so close rattled him. He hadn’t heard her approach. More important, he hadn’t sensed it. He continued to work on the foot he held.
“I need boiled, salted water to clean this wound.”
“And you’ll have whatever you need as soon as you answer my aunt’s question. By what right do you handle my cousin in this familiar manner?” Blane’s fingers tapped on the handle of his sword.
Ramos sighed in irritation. It wouldn’t do well at all to begin by injuring these people. He started to explain why he and Mairi were there.
No words would come.
He tried again, but no matter what he thought to say, he physically could not utter a single word of his purpose.
There must be some sort of logical reason for his inability. Or at least as close to logical as Faerie magic ever got. He paused, regrouped and made a quick decision.
If he couldn’t tell the truth of why he was there, perhaps he could tell a version of the truth.
“By what right? By the right of a Guardian, her life and well-being entrusted to my care by her brother.”
Eight
Mairi was floating. Floating in the most perfect aquamarine water. Floating like a leaf, her body rising and falling as the waves washed up on a fine white sandy shore.
She knew this place, recognized the dream that had become so familiar to her in the past few years. It was the island pictured in a snapshot she kept pinned to the bulletin board above her desk. That photograph had come to represent her challenge and her goal in life. The promise and temptation of adventure was everything she had always wanted, but her nemesis, the fear she had lived with for the last nine years, kept her from reaching out and capturing her dreams.
The water in the photo, and in this dream, rippled quickly away as she reached for it, just like the things she wanted in life. But the island sat there firmly, not moving, holding out hope that someday she might be herself again, might be brave enough to actually go to that place. To walk on those ivory white beaches, wade into that breathtaking lagoon and immerse herself in those crystalline waters.
She stretched, and a dull throb in her foot brought her awake. For a brief instant, dream and reality overlapped. She thought she must still be dreaming as she looked into the clear blue-green of the Indian sea. But this was no dream.
It was his eyes.
“Morning, my sweet. This is getting to be a habit with us, isn’t it?”
Ramos’s one-sided grin hit her hard, low in her midsection.
No, no, no, she told herself. This was the man who thought he was in charge of her, who thought her stupid, who drugged her when she had specifically told him not to.
She grabbed at the hand he laid on her forehead, weakly trying to push it away. If her mouth didn’t feel dry enough for a grass fire, she’d be giving him a piece of her mind. As it was, she wasn’t sure her tongue wasn’t permanently stuck to the roof of her mouth.
His grin widened, and she could have sworn the room got brighter. Who could have imagined its impact? She was grateful she wasn’t standing. Not our fault, her mind babbled at her, we haven’t recovered yet. We’re still weak.
“Bollocks,” she managed to croak.
“Now that sounds like the Mairi I remember.” Rosalyn’s voice.
Mairi stretched to peek over the shoulder of the man who was obviously trying hard not to laugh out loud. That only irritated her more.
Her aunt looked a formidable figure standing in the doorway, a tray in her hands and a frown on her face. “And you, young man, what are you doing back in my niece’s bedchamber? Dinna I tell you to remain outside the door until I returned?”
Ramos waggled his eyebrows at Mairi, then wiped the grin from his face before turning to greet her aunt with a formal little nod of his head. “That you did, madam. But I heard noises in here and came to check on my ward.”
His what?
“Did ye now? All the way through this thick door? Likely it was no more than our lass there snoring.”
“Whatever it was, she’s awake now so I’m going to examine her foot.” Ramos sat on the bed and reached for her cover.
“You’ll be doing no such thing.” Rosalyn’s tone stopped his hand in midair. “I’ll get my healing basket and we’ll look at the lass’s injury together. Guardian or no, the only thing you’ll be touching while I’m gone is this mug and possibly the back of her head as you help her drink it down. Do yo
u ken my meaning?”
“Yes, madam, I do.” Another almost imperceptible nod to her aunt as he took the mug Rosalyn handed him.
Rosalyn swept out the door, leaving it wide open in her wake.
“Guardian?” It came out as a broken, unrecognizable croak rather than the accusatory yell Mairi had aimed for.
“What?” His brow wrinkled. “Drink this before that damned she-dragon comes back. You’ve no idea what a force that woman is to deal with.”
He slid his arm under her shoulders, turning and lifting her to sit propped against his chest. The steaming mug appeared in front of her face.
“Here. Drink.”
She obediently sipped the brew, the hot liquid trickling down her throat, soothing as it went. The flowery taste brought back memories of her childhood and every illness or injury she’d ever had. And how loved and safe her aunt had always made her feel.
She relaxed against the wall of muscle behind her, Ramos’s arms around her. His hand held the weight of the mug and hers lay over his, guiding the drink to her mouth at her own speed. Her hand looked small and delicate lying over his large warm fingers.
What an absurd thought.
She tried to sit up, to move away, but he held her firmly.
“Take your time, Mairi. Getting something hot down your throat should make you feel more human soon. What was it you were trying to say before?”
Oh! How could she have forgotten, even for a moment? “You told my aunt that you were my guardian? What on earth were you thinking?”
He chuckled lightly, his breath tickling past her ear. “Yes. I wondered if you’d missed that. I guess you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I couldn’t tell them the truth. Literally. But we’ll talk about that later, when we’re not so likely to be interrupted. So I settled for a version of the truth. Something that would give me legitimate cause to stay near you.” He placed the mug on the table beside them and took her shoulders, partially turning her so they looked into one another’s eyes. “You do realize that I’m here because you didn’t come back?”
Soul of a Highlander Page 7