“It will be,” she said and smiled into his eyes.
Maddie went to Duntober every afternoon to work on her drawings. Iain always greeted her with a smile, stopping his work often to watch her progress and compliment her. She took breaks as well, noting how easily he led the men and his obvious pleasure in the work. Her breaks became longer when she would look up and see him working shirtless, his smooth skin getting darker in the warm summer sun. Sometimes he would catch her watching him and grin and wave before he returned to his work. But sometimes he concentrated so fully on his task that she could really study him, memorizing the lines of his body, watching the muscles of his arms and back gliding under his skin, and she would have to tear her gaze away and try not to wonder what it would feel like to trace a finger along his ribs, to touch that paneled abdomen, to feel his flowing skin against hers. I’m simply studying the male form for my art, she told herself with a laugh, but she knew better. All the men might be working without shirts, but it was Iain she watched. She would shake her head then, trying to rid herself of the images before returning to Magnus’s drawings. When she was finished for the day, he’d sit for a while with her, his long legs stretched out before him, his face animated as he talked about whatever came to mind. She decided that she loved watching this man.
She saw him at dinner every night as well, the meals often raucous and full of laughter. Afterward they’d go over to the pub, or sit in the lounge and talk. Sara would dart in and out, taking care of the dining room and lounge, drafting her brother and husband for tasks, but Maddie and Iain were left alone to talk. She’d learned much about him, told him a lot about her life—and learned some things about herself as well. She was lonely. She hadn’t realized it in New York, had kept herself too busy to even think about it, but here, in the company of this dynamic man, it had hit her. If things were otherwise, if he lived in New York or she in Scotland, she’d definitely want to see him again. As it was, well… it was foolish to even consider. He’d given her no reason to believe he was anything more than mildly attracted to her. Still, there was something wonderful between them.
Sara and Derek’s parents arrived on Thursday, and suddenly there was much too much to do in the time left before the party. Relatives and guests were arriving by the hour, and Sara was everywhere, seeing to details with her mother Mairi, who had turned out to be delightful. Mad-die helped wherever she could and tried not to be disappointed when Derek said Iain would not be coming to dinner. He’d had some delays at the castle, Derek said. She finished her drawings late that night and helped Sara again on Friday. By evening she was tired, but the day, busy as it was, seemed incomplete without seeing Iain. Larry had eased up on his demands, and Maddie found herself not thinking about work for hours at a time; she thought about Iain instead. When Derek said Iain wouldn’t be joining them again, she faced it. Obviously the attraction had been one-sided. All on her side.
And then it was Saturday, and the hotel bustled with well-controlled activity. By three everything was ready, and Sara gathered the family in the lounge for a light meal and a drink, then shooed them upstairs to rest and dress for the party.
Maddie dressed with care. The silk dress, full and fluid, floated around her ankles when she walked, and she felt transported to another time. She slowly brushed her hair into a chignon and watched her reflection as she put on her earrings. She didn’t look like the Maddie she was used to, the advertising executive who dressed in black and carried files everywhere. She felt younger, lighter, she thought, as she put the final touches on the present for Magnus. She twirled in the center of the room, then went to find Sara.
The Trotternish’s ballroom was aglow with chandeliers and candles, the high ceiling gleaming above the paneled walls. Flowers were everywhere, white roses and lilies and Anne’s hydrangeas gathered into huge bouquets. The staff had outdone itself, and the tables were laden with dishes lavishly presented. The round tables, draped in white linen, were ready, their tops set with silver and crystal, and in the center of each a wreath of ivy filled with purple heather. The stage was filled with musicians, playing traditional Scottish melodies.
The party guests, all dressed in Highland formal wear, had been arriving in a steady stream, and the room was almost full. The women were in long dresses of every color, their skirts billowing as they moved. Each wore a tartan scarf proclaiming her clan allegiance, many held in place by jeweled brooches that sparkled in the candlelight. The men wore black formal jackets and lace collars above their kilts, dirks in their socks. Maddie stood at the side of the room by herself, marveling at the scene. She felt quite elegant herself. Sara’s mother had provided a MacDonald scarf and the ruby brooch to hold it, and she fingered it now as she looked around.
Sara and Keith stood with Derek and Sara’s parents at the door, greeting each guest. And then Maddie heard the pipers and knew what was next. The family stepped back as six pipers in full regalia marched through the doors. Behind them was a beaming Magnus, Anne on his arm. The guests roared their approval as Magnus and Anne circled the room, then stopped in the center. The musicians paused as Magnus raised his arms.
“Welcome!” he roared, then motioned to the musicians on the stage, who plunged into a reel. Magnus grabbed Anne, whirling her into the dance with him.
Maddie clapped time, but when her gaze drifted over to the French doors, her hands—and her heart—skipped a beat. Iain stood there, talking with Derek. He wore formal Highland dress, his hair golden over a black jacket that emphasized his shoulders and lean waist, silver buttons gleaming, his lace ruffle and cuffs brilliant white. His kilt was a MacDonald tartan, and long socks hugged the muscles of his calves above the traditional ghillie brogues. He looked at Maddie as she turned and flashed her a dazzling smile, then left Derek to come to her.
“Maddie Breen,” he said, bowing before her. “Ye look beautiful tonight. I hope ye have saved me a dance.”
5
“I was afraid you weren’t coming,” Maddie said, smiling up at him.
“I wouldn’t miss this,” he said with surprise.
They turned to watch Magnus and Anne finish their dance, then clapped with the others as Magnus, who had climbed onto the stage, held his hands up for quiet.
“I welcome ye all here,” Magnus said and took a deep breath. “Whew! Anne is getting too old for this sort of thing!” He waited for the laughter, then smiled. “I thank ye all for coming tonight. Some of ye have come from far away to celebrate with us, and I canna tell ye how much it means to me. I have had a good life, a charmed life. Each time I thought disaster would strike, some kind angel watched over me. In Italy in 1944 it was Bonnie Charlie Breen who carried me to safety. His granddaughter Mad-die is here tonight, having come all the way from New York, and I’d like ye to give her a special welcome.” He grinned across the room at Maddie, who blinked her tears away and smiled. “When I thought I would never find love, Anne came along and showed me, not for the last time, that I was wrong. When our son was ill, and we thought we’d lose him, he told me MacDonalds don’t give up. Because he didna, I didna. He’s given me years of proud fatherhood, a glorious daughter-in-law, and two magnificent grandchildren. And now, for my eightieth birthday, my granddaughter Sara tells me I’m about to become a great-grandfather.”
Maddie looked at Sara, who met her eyes and smiled.
“And if that were not enough, I’m involved in two projects that will see me out. I have dreamed for most of my adult life about restoring Duntober Castle; Sir Iain MacDonald, there by the door with Maddie, is making my dream a reality. And Derek, the best damned barrister in Scotland and my favorite grandson, is helping me write my memoirs. No man has ever had a better family or friends, and I ask that ye celebrate both with me tonight. Slainte, and God bless ye all!”
As the applause died down and the music began again, Iain took Maddie’s hand and gave her a crooked smile. “How can ye no’ love the man? Let’s do as he asks and celebrate, Maddie Breen.”
“I
’d love to, Iain MacDonald.”
“Good. Than we shall.”
“I’ve missed you,” she said with a sidelong glance at him. “Where have you been? Working too many hours?”
His eyes flickered for a second, then he nodded. “I’ve been at Duntober. I was hoping to see ye there. Where have ye been, bonnie Maddie?”
“I promised to help Sara on Thursday and Friday. I thought I’d mentioned that. I was hoping you’d come down to join us for dinner, or at least afterward.”
He grinned and leaned over her. “Were yer evenings long then without me?”
She laughed up into his eyes. “Unbearable.”
“Ah. As they should be.” He paused, then his expression grew serious. “Well, the reason I was no’ here is that someone drove through the wet concrete on Thursday night, so we had to cut out the whole thing and repour it. That took most of yesterday and today, the nights as well.”
“Oh, Iain! I had no idea! Was there a lot of damage?”
He shook his head. “It was long hours and a lot of unnecessary money spent, but no’ a real setback. Derek knew, he was there for most of it, but we didna want Magnus to hear before the party, so we didna tell anyone. We’ve fixed it now. I was hoping ye’d come up on yer own, though. I could ha’ used yer inspiration, but I didna have time to stop to have dinner with all of ye. And I knew Magnus would see something was wrong just by looking at me. I’m no’ much of an actor.”
“I wish I’d known. I could at least have come and cheered you on.”
“I would ha’ liked that.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers one at a time while she watched, feeling her body react to his touch, a tingling warmth flooding through her. When her face flushed, he smiled. This man, she thought, knows exactly what he does to me.
“But now’s no’ the time for that,” he said. “Now’s the time for dancing. Ye look beautiful tonight, Maddie. The MacDonald tartan suits ye, and the dress is bonnie.”
“Thank you, Sir Iain. You look quite wonderful yourself. Do you wear kilts a lot?”
He laughed. “Only for Magnus.”
“And Blaven, apparently. You were wearing a kilt the first time I saw you.”
“So I was. But that was just to get him accustomed to the kilt flying about.”
She laughed. “Which it did.”
He grinned. “So it did.”
“Quite a welcome to Scotland.”
He grinned. “I’m glad ye enjoyed it.”
“Vastly. I felt very welcomed.”
“I am a success at something, then,” he said and laughed again. “Dance with me now, Maddie, if ye would. And promise me ye’ll come and see me at Duntober. Did ye finish yer drawings?”
She nodded. “Yes, thank heavens. And I’d love to come back to Duntober.”
“I’m thinking ye might like to do some more drawings.”
She looked from his feet to his face, thinking of him working half naked in the sun. “Yes,” she said, and he laughed again.
He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor to join the others. She didn’t know the steps to the Scottish dances, but it didn’t matter. Iain showed her how to follow him, told her what the next set of moves would be, and soon she felt more comfortable. Magnus was in the middle of the dancers, whirling Anne, who was smiling widely, and Derek danced with a young cousin while Sara and Keith stood off to one side with her parents. Maddie could see Sara’s serene expression and Keith’s proud one as they were congratulated on their news.
The hours flew by, a kaleidoscope of colors and music. She danced with Iain, with Magnus and Derek, with Sara’s father, and then with Iain again. They ate a wonderful meal, sumptuous and delicious. Iain and Maddie were seated at the table with the MacDonalds for the nine courses, each a tour de force of presentation and flavor. The chef, trained at the best culinary schools, had prepared all the traditional dishes and many updated ones. Imagine wanting haggis for your birthday, Maddie thought and laughed.
Then they all danced again. The tempo suddenly changed, and all of the women and all but the youngest men left the dance floor. Maddie, who was standing next to Sara, asked her what was happening, and Sara beamed at her.
“Watch,” she said.
Keith stood between Iain and Derek as the drums began. The rhythm went faster and faster, the fiddlers’ fingers flying as the beat intensified. The men stomped their feet in time with the drums, raising their arms and whooping. The crowd loved it, clapping and cheering as the pace increased even more. Iain, Derek, and Keith joined hands and gave throaty cries as they pounded past Maddie, their kilts soaring high, revealing their thighs and occasionally more.
“I think ye’ve just discovered what a Scotsman wears under his kilt,” Sara said, laughing. “This is Keith’s celebration of fatherhood.”
She was right, Maddie thought. The dance was a primitive demonstration of maleness, of potency and power, and the lesson was not lost on the audience. Nor on her. She felt her body respond as Iain flashed her a grin, meeting her eyes for just a second before he whirled to face the others. The dance ended at last, with a crash of drums and a quick skirl from the pipers. There was silence, then a roar from the guests before the music, much tamer now, started again. The dance floor filled as the men moved to the side. Keith wordlessly clasped Sara to him with a hearty kiss. Iain, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, looked at Maddie.
“I need a drink,” Derek said, slapping Iain on the shoulder. “Come on.” He started away, then turned. “Iain, Maddie, come on outside. It’s too hot in here.”
“That it is,” Iain said. He reached for Maddie’s hand and led her outside to the terrace.
Iain drained the glass and put it on the table before him. He could feel the second whisky hit him. Or was it the third? Does no’ matter now, lad, he told himself, watching Maddie laugh at something Derek said. Damn, the girl was perfect. He watched her mouth, watched her lips move, and wondered what they’d feel like on his skin. She slowly brushed her hair back from her cheek, and he wanted to do that for her, to feel her cheek under his fingers.
He wanted her. He thought of throwing her into the Rover and heading off for a weekend of lovemaking. A week maybe, he thought, grinning as he visualized her underneath him, her dark hair spread across a pillow, her breasts rising to meet him. He felt his body react and sat up straighter.
Derek poured him another glass of whisky, then said the bottle was empty and left to go get another while Iain studied Maddie. All right, lad, he thought, think about this now. Ye want her, but it’s more than just physical. It’ll be difficult to get this one out of yer head with some mindless sex. She’s beautiful and she’s desirable, both are true enough, but there’s more and ye know it. Iain sighed. After just a few days he valued Maddie’s opinion as well as her company. She seemed as thrilled as he was at returning Duntober from the grave, had held the renderings of the castle with a reverence that both pleased and unsettled him. No one else had the patience to listen to him explaining it all, no one else asked all the right questions. So is that what it is? Was he so hungry for someone to share the details of the project that the first person to show any interest in it had him falling all over himself? He didn’t think so. Magnus had as much interest as she did, but Magnus did not attract him at all. Fine, that.
Maddie Breen attracted him on too many levels. He could talk to her. He’d talked to her more than anyone, told her more about himself than anyone else, probably said too much. But she’d talked just as easily with him. So what to do now? Sometimes she looked at him, like just now, as though she was ready to climb into his bed. Other times she held him away with a cool glance. Perhaps it was just a passing mood for them both, this attraction. Perhaps he’d not lifted enough weights lately.
Maddie smiled at him. Perhaps it’s time to test the waters. He reached to touch her cheek.
“Maddie,” he said.
“Maddie,” Iain said again, leaning forward, hi
s fingers sliding through her hair to the nape of her neck. When she raised her face, he bent closer.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” she asked.
“That they are,” he said and lowered his head even more. “Beautiful lips.”
Maddie leaned back against his hand to look up at the sky. “I meant the night. Look, Iain,” she said pointing. “Look at all the stars. Aren’t they beautiful?”
“I’ve seen stars, Maddie.” He sat up straight, pulling his hand away from her head, then rubbed his chin as he watched her.
Whisky, she thought, and stood. “We don’t get to see them in New York.”
He rose to his feet with a slight frown. “I didna know ye were so fond of nature.”
She smiled and moved to the other side of the table, putting the chair between them. “I don’t get to see a sky full of stars very often.”
“I don’t get to see a girl like ye very often.”
She laughed. “Iain!”
He spread his hands wide. “It’s true, Maddie. Ye’re what’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She walked slowly over to the low wall that bordered the terrace. “My grandmother always says, ‘Beauty is as beauty does.’”
Iain followed her, pausing at the table next to the wall. “And what does beauty do, Maddie?”
“Beauty behaves herself, Iain.”
He took a step forward. “Perhaps beauty should get out more often. Remember, I told ye ye’d like the world.” He took another step forward.
Maddie watched him move toward her while her heart began a staccato beat. How could he be so handsome? His expression was intent, his eyes watching her mouth. She walked to the next table.
“Ye might like it, Maddie.”
She looked at him over her shoulder.
“The world,” he said.
“Ah,” she said, laughing. “Yes, the world.” She looked at his mouth, then turned to look out over the sea. What would it feel like to kiss him? The crash of the waves was loud now, or was that rushing sound in her own head? He moved next to her, his finger tracing a line down her neck to her shoulder. She turned to face him.
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