Brenda Joyce, Terri Brisbin, Michelle Willingham

by Highlanders - The Warriorand the Rose; The Forbidden Highlander; Rescued by the Highland Warrior

  “Their anger was directed toward me, not her. They did not wish to give up my widow’s portion, when Lionel de Laurent inherited my husband’s lands. I left Melisandre with my maid. I trust her to take care of my sister until I return.” She felt uneasy explaining all this to the women.

  “I will speak to my husband and ask what can be done,” Laren said, setting down her quill. “Dougal may be able to accompany you back to Eiloch, to bring your sister to safety.”

  Nairna sent Laren a conspiratorial smile. Abruptly, she asked Celeste, “Did you find him handsome?”

  She blinked at that. “Well, yes, but—” He meant far more to me than that, she wanted to say. At the pleased look on Nairna’s face, she found herself unable to say any more.

  “Nairna, don’t,” Laren warned. To Celeste, she added, “We will hold a feast this night to welcome you to Glen Arrin. It has been some time since we’ve had any visitors. And our husbands will discuss how to help you.”

  “And how we can coerce Dougal into being your protector,” Nairna said. “He’s been alone for far too long.” She beckoned to Ailsa, taking the comb and guiding it through the girl’s tangled hair. Deftly, she braided the strands, tying it off with a bit of thread.

  “It’s too soon for that,” Laren argued. “She buried her husband only a short while ago, Nairna.”

  The woman sobered, her hand coming up to rest on her throat. “You’re right, of course. I spoke without thinking.” Her face had gone pale, and she admitted, “I would die if anything happened to Bram. Please don’t be upset with me.”

  “My husband and I were friends,” Celeste said. “I’ll miss him, of course, but the marriage was arranged.” Truthfully, she had not thought of Edmon a great deal. Aside from sharing meals and a bed with him, he’d been too busy overseeing the estates. She had felt like an old cloak in many ways—there when he needed her, but Celeste didn’t delude herself into believing Edmon had ever cared about her. He’d wanted her as a possession, not someone to love. Now that he was gone, she felt a slight sense of loss, but it was not heartrending.

  What troubled her more was Dougal. She felt as if she were walking upon a barely frozen lake with him, afraid of taking any misstep. It wasn’t clear how he felt about her, and she was wary of making a mistake.

  “Don’t be embarrassed by me,” Nairna apologized. “I tend to speak my mind and ask the questions I want to know. You needn’t answer anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

  “She’ll find out the answers anyway,” Ailsa remarked, under her breath.

  Nairna smiled at her niece, but her eyes gave a warning. Waving a hand, she ordered the girls out. “Go and begin the preparations. The men and women can bring foods to share, and we’ll have music as well.”

  When the girls had gone, Celeste steadied her nerves. Tonight, she would confront Dougal and learn whether he was willing to help her. If he refused, she could speak to some of the other men. Although she hadn’t the least idea of whether anyone would want to assist her, she had to try. Gaining the support of Nairna and Laren would make it easier, if she could find the right way to broach the subject.

  An idea struck her, one that might work. Although it meant stretching the truth, it was better than the alternative.

  “I wonder if you could help me,” she began, feeling humiliated by what she must ask. “There is...another way I could protect my sister. If I were to find someone appropriate to marry.”

  As she’d predicted, Nairna warmed to her suggestion. “There are many unmarried men among the MacKinlochs,” the woman agreed.

  Laren held up a hand, intervening, “But you’re wanting a nobleman, are you not?”

  “I want a man who can keep us safe,” Celeste answered, trying to hold to the truth as much as possible. “And I don’t wish to be a burden upon anyone.” She crossed her arms, feeling embarrassed by the confession, though it was true.

  The two women exchanged looks. “Dougal is unmarried and he’s quite good at keeping a woman safe,” Nairna suggested. “But there are others who might suit, as well.” Without letting her answer, the woman studied Celeste. “The women like Dougal because he’s handsome and quiet. They won’t be glad of your arrival, I can tell you that.”

  Celeste made no reply, though she wasn’t anticipating the interference of other women. “Could you help me to find some possible candidates? And tell me what should I do to attract the right sort of man?” Her cheeks burned at the lies she was speaking, though likely they would believe she was simply embarrassed.

  The truth was, she couldn’t imagine flirting the way other women did. She didn’t know how to smile in a way that drew a man to her. Even the idea of trying to seduce one was horrifying.

  Nairna tilted her head to one side. “The gown you’re wearing is nice enough, but you need something to help you. She went into a small chest and brought out a golden necklace with colored green glass as a pendant. “Wear this.”

  Fastening the chain around Celeste’s neck, the pendant fell just between her breasts.

  “Perfect,” Nairna pronounced. “It will draw his attention in the right direction.” When Celeste gaped at her, Nairna laughed. “Don’t look at me like that, Lady Eiloch. You were married. You know where the men will be looking.”

  She reached for the pendant, feeling even more disconcerted by all this. Laren was the one who saw through her nerves and added, “Unless her marriage was not a good one.”

  Nairna’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

  Celeste let out a slow breath. “Our marriage was much the same as any other. He desired me and our union was good enough.”

  “Did you love him?” Laren asked. The woman’s voice was soft, sympathetic in her tone.

  There were no true words to describe it. Edmon had been a reasonable husband, and he’d shared her bed each night. Their marriage had been comfortable.

  “No, I didn’t love him,” she said at last. “But he would understand what I must do to protect my sister from harm.”

  Nairna came behind her with a comb in her hand. Slowly, she began unfastening the braids, loosening the strands until they hung in waving curls down Celeste’s back. “Do not cover your hair tonight, and do not wear it up.” She combed through the strands, and then arranged them over Celeste’s shoulders. “If you see a man who interests you, let one of us know, and we will help.”

  Nairna turned to face her. “I don’t know you at all, Lady Eiloch. Thus far, you seem like a good woman. But I should be warning you—” she lowered her hands to her sides, her eyes turning serious “—treat our men with care. They are strong warriors, who would die for their women. We would do the same for them.”

  * * *

  AT THE FEAST that night, the mead was poured freely, as fast as the men and women could drink. Dougal remained apart from the others, watching as his brothers’ wives introduced Lady Eiloch to several men of the clan. Although it was likely that Nairna and Laren meant nothing by it, Dougal found himself unable to take his gaze from her.

  Her hair was down, falling in waves past her hips. Nairna had loaned her a glass necklace, and Dougal didn’t doubt that every man was staring at the place where the pendant was nestled. Those who were even more drunk would start fights amongst themselves for a chance to be with her.

  It wasn’t his concern. Why should he care if his kinsmen wanted to steal a moment away with her? She meant nothing to him anymore. He intended to return to the horses, taking his leave from the crowd.

  And yet...his feet would not move. It was as if an invisible spell had woven itself around him, making it impossible to do anything except watch Celeste. She stood surrounded by men, and yet, she stole a glance at him as if pleading with him to save her. Although she’d managed a smile toward his kinsmen, he could see her discomfort growing. She picked at her food, refusing several who asked her to dance. He knew, even if they didn’t, that she hated dancing.

  Dougal finished his own fare, but it was t
asteless. Even with the sweetness of the mead to wash it down, he took no pleasure in the feasting.

  “I never thought you were a coward.”

  Dougal turned and saw his eldest brother, Bram, standing behind him. He didn’t know what his brother meant, but he suspected it had much to do with his avoidance of Lady Eiloch. “She’s fine enough on her own.”

  “She doesn’t want those men, despite Nairna’s efforts to make a match. Her attention is on you. Why do you not go to speak with her?”

  Because she made her choice.

  Dougal felt the suffocating tension rising up inside him. Seeing her among his family was abrading his mood, making him wish they would all leave him alone. “She wants my protection, nothing more.”

  “Then you’re blind, lad.”

  He bristled at that. He wasn’t an adolescent lad anymore, but a man grown. “I’ve better things to do.” Like drink himself into a stupor, to forget the way it had felt to be in her arms, to taste her lips.

  “You’re afraid of her,” Bram predicted. His brother was baiting him, but Dougal refused to play any part of this game.

  “I’m afraid of nothing. Especially her.” He strode across the crowd, his mouth tight with anger. There was only one place he wanted to be right now—far away from the prying eyes of family members.

  As if in answer to his dark mood, many women smiled at him as he passed. Several were fair of face, but he ignored them all. As he drew nearer, Celeste’s eyes never left his.

  His feet stopped moving, though he’d wanted to keep going. She was staring at him, a silent question in her eyes. He knew how much she hated people watching her. Like him, she wanted to be apart from everyone else.

  Don’t, his mind warned. The best course of action was to keep walking to leave her behind. Hadn’t he learned anything since the last time?

  And yet, he held out his hand to her. She took it without question, following him away from the MacKinlochs. Her hand was cool in his, the skin softer than he remembered. She said nothing at all, but continued to walk with him to the stables.

  “Thank you,” she said at last. “I was feeling overwhelmed around so many people.” She released his hand, even as she continued to walk alongside him. The evening was warm, and the scent of her skin caught his attention with the faintness of flowers. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, brushing against his hand.

  In his mind, Dougal wanted to press her up against the fence, forcing her to admit that she’d chosen to wed the wrong man. He craved her kiss, and he wanted to touch more of her bare skin. But he pushed the errant thoughts away.

  He stopped before the fence that enclosed the clan’s horses. Ivory trotted closer, likely expecting a carrot or a piece of dried apple. But instead of coming to his side, she stopped before Lady Eiloch.

  “You’re a sweet girl,” she murmured, rubbing the mare’s nose. “I can’t imagine that anyone would want to hurt you.”

  “Is that why you ran away?” Dougal asked quietly. “Was someone trying to hurt you?”

  He hadn’t thought of it in that light, but she’d left so quickly, it was possible. The idea of another man trying to claim her made him tense.

  Celeste nodded slowly. “And because I need help.” Her gaze fixed upon him, and suddenly, she reached out to touch his shoulder. “If you’re willing.”

  The word willing slid through him with an entirely different meaning. He opened the gate and moved away from her, using the mare as a means of repressing the desire she’d conjured. Did she even understand what she was doing? Was she trying to push him closer to the edge?

  “Why would I be?” Without waiting for an answer, he went inside the stables and brought out a brush to tend to the mare. Though he’d already taken care of Ivory earlier, he was looking for any distraction.

  “Because I think I know something you do want.” She opened the gate, following him. “And it’s something I could give to you.”

  Violent heat roared through him. His lust-filled imagination provoked him with images of her silken skin, her eyes filled with desire.

  And yet, when he turned to her, he saw naught but innocence in her eyes.

  “Go back to the others,” he warned. She had no idea how much he desired her, how his control was stretched to breaking point. “I want nothing from you.”

  “I meant only—” Her fingers touched his, and that was all it took to snap the thread of restraint. Dougal pressed her back against the wooden fence, his hands around her waist. Leaning in, he snarled, “I’m not feeling very honorable right now. I said you should go.”

  Most women would have fled at that very moment. She looked frightened, but instead of leaving, she whispered, “I would offer you a horse. A stallion to breed with your mare.”

  Her words penetrated the cloud of desire thrumming in his veins. A horse, she’d said. Not herself.

  “There are no Arabians this far north.”

  “My husband had one,” she murmured. “It was given to him last year. He’s black, with a white star on his forehead.”

  “Is that what you think I want?” He had to know her purpose, and from the sudden confusion on her face, he suspected it was.

  “Isn’t it?” The question hovered between them, and when her lips pressed together, he grew suddenly aware that she had not tried to push free of him. Instead, she’d remained trapped in his embrace, as if she, too, wanted him.

  “Your mare is important to you,” she whispered. “I only thought you might want another horse like her.”

  “The horse isn’t yours to give,” he warned. No one alive would let a valuable war stallion go, not because of a woman’s wishes.

  “I keep my promises,” she said. “And if you will help me find a way to keep my sister safe, the horse will be yours. If you want him.”

  Her hands moved to rest upon his chest. Aye, he did want a horse to breed with Ivory. She was a lovely mare and would make a good dam, with the right sire for her foals.

  “Why me?” he demanded. “Such a horse is worth more than a chest of silver.” That, he knew well, for he’d paid nearly that much for Ivory.

  “What I would ask of you is not an easy thing.” Her hands came up to his face, as if there were not two years of distance between them. As if she’d conjured up the past, reminding him of how she’d ensnared him.

  The soft caress was his undoing. Pressing himself close to her, Dougal growled, “You don’t ken what you’re doing, lass.”

  “No,” she whispered. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” And she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him softly.

  * * *

  FROM THE MOMENT Celeste kissed him, she tasted the tension in his body. Like a frosted pane of ice, he didn’t respond to her kiss at all. Her cheeks burned, for she’d thrown herself at him, only to find that he didn’t want her. Her embarrassment went so deep, she was drowning in it. She pulled back immediately, wishing she’d never given in to impulse.

  There was no love remaining within him. Not even desire, it seemed.

  “What was that for?” he demanded, his face rigid. In his dark eyes, she saw suspicion and a glimpse of a man who would not allow anyone to use him.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I—I thought—”

  I thought we could go back to the way it was before. But how terrible was it to find that he didn’t desire her? That she had misread him and was wasting her time with a man who would not yield to a moment of madness?

  “You were wrong, Celeste.” His voice slid over her with the dark trace of danger. She expected him to release her, to push her aside even. But instead, he kept his hands on either side of her, leaving her trapped against the fence. She lifted her eyes to his, and in his expression, she saw wariness.

  “You tempted me,” she admitted. “I wanted to know if it would be the same as before.”

  But it wasn’t. Not anymore.

  Dougal used his height to intimidate her, and she grew well aware that this man was not one who would let a
woman make demands of him. His dark hair hung below his shoulders, and though he was lean, she sensed that every inch of him was hardened with muscle. If she tried to seduce him, he would be very different from her husband. The thought sent a prickling rush through her skin. “It will never be like it was before.”

  “I’m grateful to you for bringing me to safety,” she said quietly. “The kiss was my mistake, and it won’t happen again.” She expected him to back away from her, now that her pride was shattered into a thousand pieces.

  But instead, he held her there, his dark eyes discerning. It was difficult to keep her thoughts clear when he was watching her like this. She turned her gaze aside and saw that the mare was grazing behind Dougal, the moonlight reflected against the animal’s silvery coat.

  “I meant what I said, about giving you the Arabian stallion,” she added. “But if you want nothing more to do with me, I’ll understand.” She kept her gaze averted, not wanting to see his refusal.

  “I’m not as daft as you think I am,” he said in a low voice.

  “I never said you were.” Somehow, she’d triggered his anger, and she wasn’t certain how to soothe him. But she was entirely aware of the way his arms rested on either side of her, his body shadowing hers like a predator.

  He held her imprisoned, his face resting against hers. “You’re wanting something else from me,” he predicted, lifting her chin. “Something you won’t tell. I know you better than any other man here. But I’m not one to be swayed by sweet words and soft kisses.”

  “Nor horses, it seems.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from him, and the touch of his hand warmed her skin. “Just let it be, Dougal. I won’t ask anything of you anymore.” She turned her cheek and pushed his hand aside.

  “Did you ever kiss your husband like that?” he demanded.

  Blood rushed into her cheeks, and she wondered why he was asking such a thing. Why would he care? “Edmon didn’t like kissing.”

  If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the answer pleased him. His shadowed face was unreadable, and she didn’t know what he wanted from her now. She was about to demand that he release her, when this time, Dougal leaned in again.