Soul of a Highlander

by Melissa Mayhue

  He was only inches from her face, so she put a hand on his chest to push him away before answering. The feel of solid muscle under her hand brought back the memory of him backing her into the wall at Sithean Fardach. Of his lowering his mouth to hers. Of the taste of his lips. She shivered and jerked her hand back. Lord, he really did suck up all the air around her. And they were outside! This close, she was hard pressed to even speak, let alone answer his questions.

  “I dinna plan to be here when he showed up. But I see no way around it now.”

  “Well, I sure as hell see a way. Chant your little verses or whatever it is you do to invoke your magic and send yourself home.”

  “I dinna chant verses. And I’ll no be leaving without finding a way to save Sallie. It’s what I came here to do in the first place. I’ll simply have to find a faster way now.”

  “Here.” He grasped her upper arm and began moving toward the door. “Let me show you a faster way. Let’s go get your spoiled little cousin right now and you zap the both of you home. Problem solved.”

  “No, you dinna understand. That’ll no solve anything. The problem’s bigger than that.” She jerked her arm from his grasp. “I canna just take her away with no explanation to her family.”

  “Then explain. To anyone you like. Tell your aunt what’s going on, take your little cousin with you, but go. Now.”

  “I canna!” Mairi yelled, though they stood toe to toe, her looking up into his face.

  “Why not?” His quiet response only made her feel guilty for having yelled at him.

  “When I try to talk about why I’m here, nothing comes out,” she admitted. “No a thing. According to Rosalyn, it’s the way of the Faeries. When I’ve done whatever I’m supposed to do, whatever it is the Fae want of me, I’ll be able to speak of it.” It sounded so stupid when she said it out loud, she expected him to laugh at her.

  To her surprise, he simply nodded and shrugged. “That sounds very like what I experienced. And very like what I would expect from Fae magic. Nothing simple. Ever. There’s always a catch of some sort.” He smiled grimly and took her upper arm, again leading her to the doorway. “We can’t wait for the Fae on this one, Mairi. What you need to do is get your cousin and get out of here. So, this is what’s going to happen. You go without any explanation. I’ll tell them when I’m able.”

  “No, Ramos.”

  Without letting go of her arm, he turned, pulling her close, stealing her air again.

  “I swore to your brother I would see you returned home safely. Servans is a very bad man, Mairi, with very bad intentions. I’m sure of it. I need you away from here so I can deal with him without having to worry about anything happening to you.”

  “I understand that. And I promise I will do my best to be gone before he gets here. But we still have a few days before then. Help me try to figure out what I’m missing. There must be some reason I dinna arrive here when I planned to. Something about this Duke I dinna know. And there must be some way I can make Rosalyn aware of what’s going on. She’ll be devastated if Sallie simply disappears.” Exactly as I did.

  “And how devastated will she be when this man shows up and kills both her daughter and her niece?”

  “We willna let it come to that. We’ll learn everything we can about him and then we’ll figure out a way to do what needs to be done.” She waited, staring up into the clear aquamarine sea of his eyes, hoping the decision he mulled would be the one she needed.

  “Very well,” he responded at last. “I’ll give you three days. But you stay inside the castle while we’re here, agreed?”

  “Agreed.” She glanced at his hand, still wrapped around her arm. “Are you going to let go or do you intend to drag me around with you for the next three days?”

  He smiled then, one side of his mouth quirking up before he released her, lifting his hands in surrender as he backed away. “Okay. You work on the hellion and I’ll see what I can learn from the brothers.” He turned his back and walked to the door, holding it open for her with a sweep of his arm.

  She entered with only a small twinge of guilt.

  She should probably tell him more, confide in him her fears that this Duke Servans might have been responsible for more than just the death of Sallie. After all, the document she’d found had said that the family mourned their losses through the Yule.

  Plural.

  Ramos stood, lips pursed in thought, watching as Mairi hurried away, her thick, pale butter-colored braid swinging tantalizingly back and forth like a beacon directing attention down to the perfectly rounded backside it swept above.

  As if he needed anything to draw his eye to that particular feature.

  Something about his conversation with her had set his senses on alert. Opening his mind, he allowed himself to view her with his inner sight, observing her until she disappeared up the curve of the stairs.

  It was more than her luscious backside that had caught his attention. She was radiating some strong emotional response. The pristine white light surrounding her was filled with wildly flickering sparks of color.

  He headed the opposite direction, lost in thought as to what that particular display could mean. More likely than not, she was hiding something. Whether she lied or simply omitted some piece of information, his Mairi wasn’t being completely honest with him.

  His Mairi?

  The recognition of that thought brought him up short, but only for a moment. Of course he’d feel possessive. He was, after all, her Guardian. She was his responsibility, her safety his paramount dictate.

  Satisfied with his own explanation, he pushed the thought away and left the building, seeking her cousins and some answers.

  “Come in.”

  Stomach tightening, Mairi pushed open the door and walked into the room that once had been her own. She quickly realized that she had wasted her time worrying that this room would bring back troubling memories. It was so changed, she hardly recognized it. The once bare floor was now completely covered in expensive rugs; the once bare walls, draped with tapestries.

  “What do you want?” Sallie stood at the foot of her bed, surrounded by piles of clothing, a look of irritation on her pretty face.

  Irritation, Mairi noted, not the dramatic weeping of such a short time ago.

  “I thought we could spend some time together, perhaps get to know one another better.” If she planned to take this girl with her when she left, it would be a good idea to make friends with her first. “What are you doing with all this? Could I help you?” She looked around at the jumble of clothing on the floor.

  “I doubt it,” Sallie sighed. “But you can try, I suppose. I’m going through all my dresses, looking for something fit to wear for the Saint Crispin’s feast. I’ll need to look my verra best and they’ve left me almost no time to prepare.”

  Mairi reached down and pulled a light green dress from the pile nearest her and held it up. “This is lovely.”

  “But it’s so plain,” Sallie whined. “I want to look elegant when I meet the Duke.”

  “This Duke of yours could be old, fat, bald and married, for all you know.”

  Sallie’s eyes narrowed and she jerked the dress from Mairi’s hands. “He’s no any of those things. Ran says he’s a fine figure of a man. Besides, fat, bald men aren’t heroes. Did my mother send you up here to plant those lies?”

  “No. Yer mother disna even know I’m here. Who’s Ran?”

  “A family friend. He squired here for years.” She held the green dress up to her shoulders. “I suppose this color would be good on me.”

  “A lovely color with your hair,” Mairi said absently. She’d need to find out more about this fellow, Ran.

  “I dinna know where we’ll find anything for you to wear, unless it’s my mother’s. Yer verra large.”

  “What?” Mairi’s attention snapped back to the conversation.

  “My things are all much too small. But, as yer so old, too, her clothing would be best for you.” A wicked smil
e accompanied the comments.

  “I have my own things to wear, thank you.” Mairi was forming a rather definite dislike of her little cousin. Perhaps when she got her home, she could talk Connor and Cate into letting the girl live with them.

  “Oh.” The girl picked up a blue gown, dropping the green one. “This one displays my figure to more advantage.” She looked up and smiled. “Yer no one of the gifted daughters, are you?”

  “What?” It seemed the girl was constantly catching her off guard.

  “The Fae gifts. Do you ken the story of them?” At Mairi’s nod, she continued. “You dinna have them, do you? You’re no the daughter of a daughter, are you? No like me.”

  “No, I’m no the daughter of a daughter.” That much was true.

  “I dinna think so. Perhaps we could take that one in.” She dropped the blue dress and picked up the green one again. “There was another Mairi who lived here many, many years ago. Long before I was born. She was like you.”

  “Really?” They knew of her? “How was she like me?”

  “She was ungifted.” Sallie sighed and shook her head before turning the wicked smile back on. “That Mairi was my mother’s favorite niece. A beautiful, carefree lass who tragically died in this verra room, murdered on her wedding night by the groom himself.”

  Mairi stood in shocked silence. Not this room. It had been the storeroom down below where she’d been held, where she would have met her end.

  “I’ve seen her ghost.”

  “Oh, really?” Hard to believe. Especially since she hadn’t actually died.

  “Aye. But you’ll never see her. She appears only to me because I have the gifts.”

  “Just as well. I dinna believe in ghosts. Would you like me to help you alter the green one?”

  “You can. We’ll take it down to my mother’s solar. The light is better there.” Sallie paused at the door, turning with a glare. “Best you remember this, Cousin Mairi. You’ll have to wait to find yerself a husband when yer guardian takes you to Spain. Dinna be thinking you’ll steal my Duke away. You’ve no gifts, and yer old and large. He’ll choose me over you.”

  With that she flounced out the door, leaving Mairi staring after her.

  Sallie would definitely have to live with Connor and Cate. Either that or someone would be seeing her ghost.

  On top of everything else, Sallie snored.

  Mairi cast a disgusted look over at her sleeping cousin, swathed in the blankets beside her like some medieval mummy. And she was a cover hog to boot.

  When Rosalyn had first approached her about moving into Sallie’s room, Mairi had known it would be a trial. But with houseguests coming for the Saint Crispin’s celebrations, rooms were at a premium. After all, it wasn’t as if they could just hop in their cars and drive home. And there certainly weren’t any nearby hotels in this time.

  Mairi rolled her eyes at the noise coming from her cousin. The only positive was that she was sure Sallie slept. At last. The girl had talked forever, right up to the minute she dozed off. Straight from inane chatter to deafening snores.

  Mairi had waited all through the afternoon and evening to find an opportunity to sneak away to speak to Ramos. She wanted to tell him about the man Sallie had mentioned. This Ran might provide some useful information for them, if only they could learn more about him. He apparently knew the Duke and was well acquainted with the family, though she remembered no mention of him in any of her research.

  Mairi slid from the bed, shivering as her feet hit the cold stone. She wondered briefly if Sallie had purposely moved the rugs from her side of the bed. It seemed to be the only bare spot in the entire room.

  The fire was down to embers and the wood basket empty. Obviously her cousin wasn’t fond of the little everyday chores. Mairi regretted the clingy silk nightgown she wore, but only for a moment. She had always hated the thick woolen nightdresses. They made her feel as if her arms were bound, and they tangled around her legs. The long, sleeveless silk she wore had been the one concession to modern times she had made when coming back. Sallie had been fascinated by the gown, but Mairi had explained it away as a gift her brother had procured from traders.

  Rubbing her hands up and down her chilled arms, she crossed the room and slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

  The hallway was much darker than she remembered, a lone torch burning at the far end her only illumination. She trailed her hand along the surface of the wall, wishing for a light switch and some overhead bulbs as she made her way to the bedchamber where Ramos slept.

  Reaching his door, she hesitated. It had taken so long for her cousin to finally fall asleep, surely he wouldn’t be awake any longer. She could knock, but what if he were a sound sleeper? Pounding could bring others to their doors as well, and she didn’t particularly want to invite speculation as to what she was doing at his chamber in the middle of the night.

  She bit at her lip as she paused, her hand on the knob. Sneaking about in the dark was something she might have done long ago when she’d lived in this castle. The reassurance of that thought gave her the courage to push open the door and slip into the room.

  Inside, she waited a moment, gathering her bearings. The room was as dark as the hallway, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of the burning wood in the fireplace. She held still and listened. Deep, rhythmic breathing affirmed Ramos’s presence in the room.

  As she reached his bedside, she saw that he lay on his back, one arm flung above his head, the hand tucked under his pillow, the other arm resting by his side. His hair was unbound, flowing across the pillow like a burn of black silk. The bed woolens were drawn only up to his waist, and his chest—she sucked in her breath—was gloriously bare.

  Without thought she leaned closer and reached out, her hand hovering above the rippled plane of his chest. Her finger, as if with a mind of its own, lightly stroked the bronzed muscle just above his heart.

  A grip of steel on her wrist was her only warning. Within the space of a heartbeat, she was on the bed, flipped to her back, her arms stretched above her head.

  Ramos loomed over her, his body covering hers, holding her immobile. The hair that had reminded her of a stream on the pillow beside him now pooled about their faces like a silken curtain of ebony. His eyes glittered, reflecting the glow of the fire.

  “Mairi?” Ramos whispered her name. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing in here?”

  How had he moved so quickly?

  “I needed to…” The words stuck in her throat as he released one wrist, his hand slowly skimming down her arm.

  “To talk to you.” Once freed, the words came out in a breathless rush, one tumbling over the other.

  Amazingly it wasn’t fear wreaking havoc on her senses at the moment. It was attraction. She’d never felt such an immediate and intense response to anyone.

  “Talk?” A lazy smile curved his full lips.

  Such a fascinating mouth; such mesmerizing lips. The memory of their feel, their taste came rushing back to her. She felt them calling to her, willing her to capture them with her own.

  His hand slid lower, toward her ribs, his thumb extending to brush the side of her breast. She sucked in her breath and his head dipped, so close their lips almost touched.

  “About?” With the one whispered word, his breath trickled over her face, an inviting tendril of air beckoning her closer.

  She couldn’t resist its call.

  Her free hand wrapped itself in the black silken curtain of hair and pulled him down, her mouth closing over his.

  His tongue tested her lips and she opened them, inviting him in, her own dancing with his.

  She melted into him, his arms behind her now, one at her shoulders, one at her hips, drawing her into him.

  Her hands slid down his chest and around his waist, exploring the back muscles that flexed as he drew her closer still, kissing her as if he wanted to suck her very soul from her body. On her hands traveled, down his back and low
er.

  His body was all muscle, hard molded stone, covered in warm, inviting skin.

  Bare skin.

  Her hands froze in place and she gasped as she realized his shirt wasn’t the only thing he wasn’t wearing.

  His eyes were heavy when he lifted his head, a lazy half smile curving his sexy lips. “What is it, my sweet? Remember what you came to talk about?”

  What am I doing?

  “You’re…you aren’t…Ran!” She fought for breath. “I came to talk to you about Ran.”

  His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Who ran?” He dropped his mouth to her neck, doing something with his tongue that made thought almost impossible.

  Both his hands slid to her hips, pressing her into him. It quickly became obvious that every part of his body was hardened. Especially the part that pressed tantalizingly against her now, as he nestled between her legs, the thin silk of her nightgown the only thing separating them.

  His mouth moved lower and she sucked in a breath, needing air, needing to clear her head, needing to regain control.

  “No, it’s no a who…. Ran is a who…. Holy Christ, Ramos, you’ve nothing on,” she finally managed to sputter. “Get off me.” She pushed at his chest. This had to be his fault. She’d never, ever behaved even remotely like this.

  “Okay.” He leaned on his forearms, his face still above hers. “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

  “That’s what I want,” she whispered, held captive by his eyes.

  “Your words may say stop”—he lowered his head, capturing her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, running his tongue over it, forcing a moan from her before letting go—“but your body is telling me something else all together.”

  Her body was telling her something else, too.

  “Yeah, well, listen to my words and get off me.” Before words completely failed her again.