Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05]

by Seducing the Highlander

  “That I am unsure of. I just know that I am not ready to give up.” He glanced at Meriel and seeing her expression, chuckled. “You’re surprised.”

  Meriel nodded. He had said otherwise, but she had truly thought Hamish to be only half interested in Wyenda.

  “That’s the problem,” he said, sighing. “I’ve thrown my heart out there for all to see so many times, it makes it hard for a woman to believe when I am truly interested in her.”

  Meriel rolled her hazel eyes, completely aware that he saw her. No longer did she try to hide her opinions in fear of offending him. She had not thought it possible to be so relaxed in any man’s company other than Craig’s, and yet with Hamish she was. She could not decipher the innermost secrets the Highlander held, like she could Craig’s, but she did not need to, either. “I do not believe that you, handsome one, have ever exposed your heart quite as you have claimed. Feigning interest is far from making yourself vulnerable.”

  Hamish opened his mouth wide with artificial pain. “I have never feigned interest.”

  “Nor have you made yourself vulnerable. Even now you are waiting for Wyenda to fall in love before you further commit yourself emotionally.”

  Hamish scratched his chin and regarded Meriel in the moonlight. He was caught somewhere between wanting to pull her into his arms and kiss her and needing to walk away lest he do so and lose her friendship—and Craig’s.

  Meriel, unaware of the direction of Hamish’s thoughts, walked over to a nearby boulder and leaned against it. “Can I ask you a question I’ve been musing for a while?”

  Intrigued, Hamish tilted his head in a nod.

  “How do you know when you are in love? For example, you claim to be in love with Wyenda. What is it about her that is so attractive?”

  Hamish threw back his head and scoffed. If Meriel were a man he would have blurted out, Have you seen her? Instead, he tried to explain it in a way he hoped she could understand. “Wyenda is . . . very pretty.”

  “I know that. I meant attractive besides her obvious beauty. What’s beyond that ‘hardened exterior’ you mentioned?”

  “I guess . . . well . . . when she looks at a man, she makes him feel like he is the most special, important man in the world. Once we men feel that, we want to feel it again and again. We cannot help ourselves.”

  Hamish’s words washed over Meriel. “You may be surprised to learn that we women are no different. We want to feel special too.”

  “And does Craig make you feel special?”

  Meriel crossed her arms and looked out at the water rippling in the light breeze. The answer was complex. Their bond was unique and something she treasured, but Craig had not actually made her feel special. At least not until he kissed her. “Let me just say he has the ability to do so if he chooses. But not all the time, no.” Then she turned her green-and-gold eyes to stare directly at him. “What about you? Have you made Wyenda feel that way?”

  Hamish strolled over and leaned back against the large rock so that his hips touched hers. “I have no idea. I’ve tried all the typical things—flattery, gifts. I even offered to help her and her grandmother with various things around their cottage. She knows that I have enough money to offer her a good life.” He paused and then asked, “Do you suppose she is cautious because most men when they get to my age are married? That perhaps there is a reason why no one else wanted me?”

  “I . . . I . . . don’t know,” Meriel answered honestly.

  Hamish sighed. “I only wondered because of you and Craig.”

  “What do you mean, me and Craig?”

  Hamish shrugged. “Just that, why commit to someone who is around anyway? No need for anyone to be jealous.”

  Meriel wondered if Hamish was talking about himself. Had he heard the rumors about Wyenda and Iain? But then if she, a visitor, had, it only made sense that he would have, as well. “I don’t know Iain Matheson, but I understand how you could be jealous of—”

  “Iain Matheson!” Hamish spewed. “He would be the last person I would be jealous of. Have you ever seen him? If he ever tried to pick up a sword it would topple him over. The only muscles he has reside in his jaw, which never stops moving. He professes to be a descendent of the royal house of Lorne and have all the wealth that comes with such a lineage, but there is not a scrap of evidence to support such a claim. He filches off of various family members, and last I heard he was mooching off Dougal Matheson, who lives just on the other side of the McTiernay’s northwest border.”

  “Does Wyenda know this?”

  Hamish furrowed his brow. “She has to. Everyone knows Iain Matheson. If she is telling people that she is interested in him, it is simply to keep them from knowing her true fondness for me.”

  Meriel was not convinced, but she could see that Hamish was. Nothing she could say would induce him to believe otherwise. “So what did you mean then about jealousy?”

  “I meant, that if Wyenda thought someone else was interested in me, it might help. Have you ever tried to make someone jealous?”

  Meriel wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Don’t ask me. I’m here to get over a man, not devise ways to humiliate myself.”

  “And how is that coming along? I mean, are you any closer to forgetting Craig?”

  Meriel squinted her eyes and then gave in to the urge to shove him. It only added to her annoyance when Hamish did not move even a little bit. “It doesn’t matter. I refuse to love someone who does not love me.”

  “I told you before that he does.”

  “And you also said that when a man feels a certain way about a woman, he cannot help but want to feel it again and again. Craig won’t even discuss the topic.”

  Having now been around Meriel long enough to get to know her, he understood his friend’s dilemma more and more. But while he understood Craig’s reluctance to commit himself to someone who turned out to be a very spirited and challenging woman, Hamish still thought his friend a fool for not snatching Meriel up before anyone else did. “Craig loves you,” Hamish repeated. “He simply refuses to admit it.”

  “To himself or me?”

  “Himself,” replied Hamish with absolute conviction. “You see, the moment he does—and he knows this, just as every man does—that he will be truly and forever entrapped. And it scares us men. It’s why so many of us marry for other reasons besides love.”

  Meriel felt her jaw drop in open shock. “You don’t want to love the woman you marry?”

  “We want to be attracted to them, aye. We want to enjoy their company and be able to have a conversation, but besotted? Nothing is scarier. Think about it. If something happened to Lady McTiernay, how do you think the laird would respond? I can tell you, the same way his father did when his mother died. To wrap oneself up emotionally in someone else is wrought with danger.”

  Meriel could not believe what she was hearing, but deep down she knew that Hamish spoke not only for himself, but many other men out there. Here all this time she had thought both sexes equally sought the love and support of a life partner, when in truth, men just wanted someone to whom they were attracted and whom they could tolerate when not physically engaged. “But do you think if Laird McTiernay could go back and avoid meeting and falling in love with Laurel, he would?”

  “Nay. He would not, now that he knows the pleasure of being in love. What I am saying is some men do not seek such pleasure because they know the risks that come with it.”

  All the pain she had been feeling the past couple of weeks shot through Meriel and it manifested into anger. Throwing her hands in the air, she moved off the boulder. “I guess Craig does not consider loving me worth those risks.”

  Hamish waved his hand as if he were brushing aside the obvious. “Only because he thinks he doesn’t have to risk his heart to have you. I mean, you are going back, are you not? And once you return, your friendship will become the way it was before, or have I misunderstood your intentions?”

  Meriel swung around. She took a deep brea
th for control and then let it escape slowly. Her anger with Craig—which had been swimming just below the surface—was genuine, but she now was equally furious with herself. “You make me sound pathetic and pitiable.”

  “Honestly? That is how I first thought of you,” Hamish replied. Seeing her recoil, he knew he had hurt her with his candor, something he never intended to do. Instinctively, he got up and pulled her into his arms. “Meriel, now that I know you better, I can assure you, you are neither. But I am surprised that you, who can be incredibly stubborn when you want something, gave up so easily on winning Craig’s heart. What’s worse is that you already have it; you just need to claim it for your own.”

  Meriel felt the tears she had been fighting let loose and stream down her cheeks. She leaned against Hamish, soaking up his strength, feeling safe in the knowledge that he desired someone else. But Hamish was wrong. She could not go back and have things as they were. Feeling the way she did, she could no longer seek Craig’s support without feeling the rejection from his refusal to see them as anything more than friends.

  Calmer, Meriel slowly let go and stepped back. “I think I’m forced back to my first plan—to fall out of love.”

  “Or you could make Craig admit his feelings.”

  “But how? The man is beyond obstinate when he has made up his mind, and I can promise you, when it comes to me, he has definitely decided that love and marital bliss are not in our future.”

  Hamish’s dark green eyes probed hers. “Ever try jealousy? I hate to admit it, but it usually works.”

  Meriel scoffed. “Craig? Jealous? Even if he were here to witness me with another man firsthand, he would never believe it. Just like I would never give any credence to a story about him becoming suddenly love-struck over some female.”

  Hamish reached out and clutched her arm before she could turn away. “Wait—you’ve never been jealous?”

  Meriel shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

  “And he has never been even a little possessive of you?”

  Meriel glanced to the side, trying to remember. “Honestly, I don’t think so.”

  Hamish did not have to ask. He knew the truth. Since Craig and Meriel had met, neither of them had ever looked at another member of the opposite sex. They had been so wrapped up in their “friendship” that their true feelings had never been tested.

  “Maybe you should try it.”

  Meriel favored him with a blindingly bright smile, laughing at the idea. “It just would not work.”

  “You’d be surprised. Men fight for those they love, if they think they are going to lose them.”

  “Maybe, but only if the potential loss was real. Craig would recognize the ruse for what it was—a trap. His pride alone would keep him from becoming jealous.”

  It was Hamish’s turn to laugh. “Perhaps, but even Craig cannot fight human nature.”

  Meriel froze. Hamish was right. In certain situations, Craig’s disposition would cause him to react a certain way. It would practically force him to. And no one knew Craig as well as she did. Craig would always go where he wanted to, but there might be a way to make him want to go in her direction.

  She reached up on her tiptoes and planted a warm, soft kiss on Hamish’s cheek. “You are brilliant and so am I,” she said, beaming. “I think I have a way to solve both our problems—you and Wyenda and Craig and myself. But I would need your help.”

  Hamish’s face broke into a large grin. Her eyes were sparkling and it was like looking at Rae Schellden in the midst of a grand scheme he knew was going to work. It drew one in and somehow elicited a commitment without full knowledge of what one was agreeing to. “Call me brilliant again and I might agree to anything.”

  “You truly are wonderful and my hero for giving me the idea!” she exclaimed. Then she bit her bottom lip. “Now to convince Laird McTiernay about our plan . . .”

  Hamish stepped back and then, seeing the seriousness on her face, took another step back. “Our plan? Laird McTiernay? Oh no, you can call me brilliant a thousand times and I still wouldn’t agree to whatever you are thinking.”

  Still deep in thought, Meriel bunched her brows and murmured, “Too late.”

  Hamish shook his head violently. “First, this is your plan. And second, the laird made it rather clear to me that your presence here was to have as little effect on his life as possible. And I got the distinct impression that he thought me responsible for ensuring that outcome—both during and after our journey here.”

  Meriel waved her hand, dismissing his sincerely felt anxiety. “Oh, don’t fret so. It ruins your handsome face. Besides, it won’t be you and I who will be talking with the laird. We will leave that up to Lady McTiernay.”

  Chapter 4

  Conor entered his solar and paused before slowly closing the door. Laurel was sitting in the farthest of the two hearth chairs, slowly brushing out her hair. With her head tipped back, the firelight played against pale gold curls as they tumbled over her shoulders. Unable to stop himself, he walked over to fondle the soft mass, still unable to believe that he and only he was lucky enough to do so.

  He watched as a soft, inviting smile graced her lips, telling him in her private, feminine way that she was completely his. Conor felt his whole body tighten with desire. “I hope you are not tired,” she murmured.

  Conor arched an eyebrow but continued to stroke the silky tresses, enjoying how they felt as they slipped through his rough fingers. “I don’t believe I am,” he replied as one curl coiled around his finger. If he didn’t know better, he would say that somehow his wife had trained her hair in the art of seduction.

  Laurel turned slightly and placed her hand on his arm. The feel of her skin touching his sent sparks flying through his body. “Tonight is going to have to last for a while, so do not plan on falling asleep anytime soon.”

  Conor swallowed, filled with a sudden need to possess her body, her entire being, and fulfill her wish without further prelude. He pulled her up out of the chair and into his arms, burying his face in her neck and breathing in her scent. His hands slowly soothed her back in the gentlest of touches when his efforts were suddenly stalled. He pulled back just enough for him to verify that the garment she was wearing was the gown—the practically transparent one that played havoc with his senses. Laurel only wore it when they were about to have an argument that she suspected she might lose without the aid of some distraction.

  Gray eyes met, locked, and held those the color of a stormy sea. Two souls communicating with each another, neither willing to yield.

  “This,” Conor began, taking a step back while waving his hand at her chemise, “is not because of dinner tonight, is it?”

  Laurel licked her lips. She had actually forgotten her promise to him after his little speech to Conan. “Not only because of dinner,” she admitted.

  Conor grimaced and began to undo his belt. Letting his kilt fall to the floor, he stripped off his leine and tossed it over the chair next to hers. Naked, he went over and stoked the fire before getting into bed. He hoped he had made his point and that she would join him without any more pretense, but Laurel remained standing. And she was still wearing that damn chemise that made it near impossible to think when looking at her.

  He closed his eyes. “Based on your comment, you believe one of us is going to be leaving on a trip.”

  Laurel nodded. “You.”

  Conor leaned back against the pillow and crossed his arms behind his head, letting his heated gaze drift over her, touching her breasts, her belly, down to her toes and back up. He knew what it did to her and felt a small sense of triumph when she shivered under the caress. When his eyes met hers again, her face burned with a combination of need and something else entirely. “Just where am I going?”

  “To see Colin.”

  The answer surprised him and he dropped his arms, forgetting his plan to bother her as much as she was disturbing him. If she meant for him to visit Colin in the Lowlands, then this was no quick j
ourney she was sending him on. This was more like a month. “I had plans for us both to visit him in the spring.”

  Laurel clasped her hands in front of her. “I know, but we have not heard from Clyde in awhile, and after what happened to his friend, it would be good to know how he is faring before the long stretch of winter prevents communication with your brother.”

  Conor was concerned about his youngest brother as well. They had heard little about Clyde and how he was doing since news arrived of the appalling death of his best friend, Kam. And while Laurel’s similar concern was no doubt partly why she wanted him to go south, it was not the reason behind her sudden desire to have him gone for a significant amount of time. Obviously, she wanted him out of the way, but why? So that he couldn’t interfere? Or so that he would not gripe when she put whatever plan she had into action?

  Laurel leisurely strolled to the bed. Hooking a finger on one shoulder of her chemise, she said, “And since you and Conan are both going to be gone for a while, I thought it might be a good idea to invite Craig to help out until you return.”

  Craig and Meriel. Conor sighed inwardly. He should have known that Laurel had not given up on bringing them together. And it appeared she had decided to escalate matters. Suddenly the idea of visiting Colin was looking like a reprieve.

  Conor reached over and gave a gentle tug to the other side of the undergarment, just enough so that it slid down her frame to her waist and eventually the floor. “Good idea,” he whispered hoarsely, “and it just so happens that I have another one.”

  Lured by his touch, Laurel joined Conor on the bed and was about to give in to her need for a kiss when it occurred to her that Conor had agreed to leave, and much too quickly. Such a request should have been rejected multiple times before he succumbed to her logical and cajoling arguments.

  Placing a hand on his chest, she sat up and stared at him, the tiny muscles around her eyes rigid with suspicion. “Just why are you so willing to leave?”