“Maddie,” he said. “Ye’re so beautiful. There’s never been anyone like ye.”
“It’s just the whisky, Iain,” she said, trying to move past him.
He moved in front of her and leaned forward. She took a step backward and hit the wall.
“It’s no’ the whisky, Maddie. It’s ye. I wasna drinking when I first met ye, and ye had the same effect on me then.”
“Did I?”
He nodded.
“And you on me, Iain,” she said and raised her face to his. The first brush of his lips was so gentle she wasn’t sure it had happened, but when he returned there was no mistaking his intent. He claimed her mouth with a ferocity that dazed her. He tasted like whisky, and for just a second she froze, then recovered, meeting his intensity with her own. His lips were soft, his body hard as he stood and pulled her up against him. She could feel his arousal when he pressed his hips against her, feel his hand on her back pressing her even closer, fell his knee squeeze between her legs. His lips claimed hers, then his tongue probed until she opened to him, the pressure increasing as he explored her mouth. One of his hands was tangled in her hair while the other slowly roamed from her cheek to caress her neck, then her collarbone, and then stopped, cupping her shoulder as he drew away.
“Good God, Maddie,” he whispered. “Ye’re even sweeter than I thought, and I’ve been thinking about kissing ye all night. I don’t want to stop.”
She gave a throaty laugh. Iain had kissed her, and she wanted more.
“Then don’t stop.”
“I should.” He traced a finger from her temple, across her cheekbone to her lips. “I should send ye back to Sara as fast as ye can go.”
“Why? You act as though I were dangerous.”
“Ye are.” He leaned to kiss her softly, then pulled back again.
“How am I dangerous, Iain?”
“I don’t do this with Sara’s friends.”
“I never liked her,” Maddie said breathlessly.
He laughed. “And ye’re leaving in a fortnight.”
“Which makes me less dangerous, not more.”
He shook his head. “Ye are mistaken, Miss Breen. Ye are the most dangerous woman I’ve met in years.”
“Then flirt with danger, Sir Iain. You’re very good at flirting.”
“I shouldn’t do this,” he said and lowered his head again to her mouth. This time there was no gentleness in his first touch, nor in her response. And this time his hand did not pause as he caressed her shoulders, but moved lower to cup her breast. She moaned when he touched her and moved closer, intensifying the kiss. At last he lifted his head and leaned back to look into her eyes.
“Damn! Damn and damn and damn!”
They turned to see Derek standing at the edge of the terrace, looking down at the glass he’d just dropped on the stones. Whisky streamed between the broken shards of glass, and he looked from it to them with a wide smile.
“I broke it,” he said. “I’ll go get another. But Sara’s right behind me, so ye’d best stop that.”
Iain laughed quietly and pulled Maddie to him for the briefest of kisses before he released her and stepped back. “To be continued,” he whispered as Sara came into sight.
Sara looked from Maddie to Iain, then back to Mad-die, putting her hands on her hips. “I should ha’ guessed this. Come on, the two of ye. It’s time to open the gifts, and I knew ye’d want to be there.” She shook her head. “Maddie, ye’ll be needing a comb.”
Magnus cried when he opened Maddie’s gift, wiping the tears away without embarrassment and calling her to him for an embrace. Anne kissed her cheek and cried unabashedly, holding the drawings up for everyone to see. They did the same when Magnus opened Iain’s gift, a model he’d had made of Duntober out of Scottish crystal, and Sara applauded them both.
“Great minds think alike,” Iain said with a grin as he came back to stand with Maddie and watch Magnus open the rest of his gifts.
Many of the guests had gone, and when the music began again, there were fewer dancers. Maddie didn’t mind. She danced with Iain, then Derek, then Iain again. He grinned when he held her tight against him, then frowned when he had to let her go. And when the music stopped he always came to claim her hand.
By three in the morning most guests had either retired to their rooms or had gone home, and Maddie sat on the terrace with Sara, Keith, and Iain. Derek had gone to the pub for a while and returned with the same pretty blond girl who had leaned up against Iain the night she’d been introduced to him at the pub. Derek led her into the ballroom to dance with him, and when she protested that she wasn’t dressed properly, he undid the plaid from his shoulder and declared her a MacDonald. Iain watched them with narrowed eyes, and Maddie’s heart constricted. Was there something between the two of them? If not, why was he so displeased with Derek’s dancing with the pretty blonde? And if so, then why had he kissed her?
“Do you know her?” she asked, and Iain nodded.
“Everyone knows Joanie,” Sara said, rolling her eyes. “She’s quite… available. I don’t know where’s she’s staying, but it has to be nearby. She’s always up at Dunto ber talking to the men, and she’s in the pub every night. She likes Iain and Derek a lot. Maybe,” she said, with a significant look at Maddie, “she’s a restoration groupie.”
Iain snorted but made no comment, and Keith laughed, offering to get everyone another drink. Iain nodded absently as he looked through the French doors to where Derek danced with Joanie, his frown increasing into a scowl. Sara yawned and stood up, saying she was going to bed.
“Me too,” Maddie said, rising. Iain looked at her in surprise but said nothing as she said good night, then followed Sara. Before they went inside, Maddie turned to see Iain still watching Derek and the blonde.
Maddie hung the ballgown up carefully and a little sadly. On the terrace below her room, Iain was at the table with Keith. Derek and Joanie had joined them and she could hear their laughter. Fool, she said to herself as she closed the curtain. It never could have worked, and that’s fine with him. It was the whisky that made him kiss you, nothing more. She sighed and curled up in the chair next to the window to read the faxes that had come in Saturday morning. She’d been too busy to bother with them earlier, assuming that both of them were from Larry. The first one was—a long laundry list of details about the shoot in October, most of them things that had been thoroughly discussed before she’d left. Nothing worth even replying to, she thought, and unfolded the second fax. It bore the letterhead of the Scottish Historical Board and gave her permission to visit Kilgannon Castle, provided that she sign the enclosed waiver and be in the company of a member of their Board of Directors. Iain’s name was of course on the list of the directors, and she gave a dejected sigh. He had done just as he’d promised, and she felt a wave of warmth toward him, then sorrow. He was a good man, but he was a man she could never have. The problem was that just now he was the only man she wanted.
Yes, he’d kissed her, she thought, touching her lips and remembering. But that was the whisky and the aftereffects of that wild dance. It meant nothing more. He was gorgeous, true, and a very nice man. But he meant nothing to her, nor she to him. Sad, but for the best. What if they had really liked each other? He was geographically undesirable. He’d never leave Duntober, and she had a career she’d worked too hard for to desert. So the sensible thing was to wash her face and go to bed. Why then was she staring at the ceiling and thinking about kissing him? Maddie picked up her book and tried to read, then gave up and unpinned her hair, brushing it as she walked around the room. She’d miss him. She’d remember him the rest of her life.
“Maddie!” It was Iain’s voice outside. She stared at the curtains. “Maddie, I know ye’re still awake. Maddie!” She crossed the room and stood before the window. “Madeline Breen, I need to talk to ye!”
Maddie opened the curtains and leaned out. Iain stood alone on the terrace below, waving at her.
“Maddie! Come on do
wn and see the sunrise with me.”
She tried to whisper. “Iain! What are you doing?”
“Come on, Maddie. Put yer bonnie dress back on and come down.”
Maddie heard Sara’s window open. “Iain MacDonald!” Sara rebuked in a loud whisper. “For God’s sake, go to bed. Ye’ve had too much to drink.”
“I’m not drunk, Sara,” Iain said, and Maddie had to admit he didn’t sound it. “Ye go to bed; ye have to sleep for two now. This is between Maddie and me. Maddie, are ye coming down, or do I have to come up there and see ye?”
“Maddie, go down there before he wakes the whole hotel,” Sara said urgently.
Her heart racing, Maddie called, “I’ll be there in a minute, Iain,” and closed the curtains.
It was more than a minute before she made it to the terrace. She left the ballgown on the hanger so it wouldn’t get mussed, and threw some slacks and a silk T-shirt on, leaving her hair loose and blessing herself for not taking her makeup off. This is ridiculous, she thought, but smiled. He must be drunk. She’d talk with him for a minute and convince him to go to bed.
He waited for her at the table they’d been at before, his back to her, his legs stretched out before him. The ballroom was silent now, a few of the staff moving about, blowing out candles and closing the doors. There was no sign of anyone else, and she paused before she joined him. This was madness, she thought, then laughed. A little midsummer madness never hurt anyone.
“Iain,” she whispered, and he turned, then rose to his feet to face her.
“Maddie,” he said and held out his hand. “Why did ye go?”
“I… you…” She took his hand and came to stand before him. His eyes were dark in the dim light. “You seemed very preoccupied with Derek’s dancing with Joanie,” she said at last.
He laughed deep in his throat, then reached to pull her against him. “I thought that was it. Damn, I love a jealous woman.” He smiled down at her. “Maddie, how can ye think I’d care what that girl does? She’s Derek’s problem, and he can take care of himself. Lass, ye have no competition.”
He kissed her, a soft kiss laden with promises, and she pressed herself against him, raising her mouth to him again.
“Maddie, I have a bottle of champagne in my room. Why don’t we take it and watch the sunrise at Duntober?”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
He touched his lips to her forehead. “Maddie, look at me.”
She did, meeting his eyes with a tremor of fear. This man knew his power over her. He smiled now, slowly, as he ran a fingertip along her jaw.
“Ye’ll ne’er see the like, Maddie. The sun comes up and lights each small bit of land and then sea, and the water changes from purple to silver. Ye should see it. For yer art.”
She smiled. “For my art.”
“It’s research, lass.” He kissed her hair. “Come with me and see the sunrise in a Scottish castle overlooking the sea.” He kissed her cheek. “Who knows when or if ye’ll ever be back here? Ye need to see this. Come with me, sweet Maddie.”
“Yes,” she said.
6
Iain lived in one of the cottages at the back of the Trotternish, in a studio suite with a tiny kitchenette, decorated simply in florals and traditional furniture. Maddie looked around while Iain closed the door behind her and crossed to the small refrigerator, pulling out the bottle of champagne. She could see Sara’s touch in the details, the patterns and colors that were so perfectly matched. But he didn’t linger. He grabbed a blanket that was folded at the end of his bed, tucked it under his arm, and reached for her hand.
They walked to Duntober silently at first, then talking as they left the hotel grounds. By the time they reached the lower gate, Iain was swinging her hand and laughing out loud. Midsummer madness, Maddie thought, and looked at him again. If one was going to do something mad, this was the man to do it with. At the castle he unlocked the cellar and brought out two glasses, which he held up to her.
“No’ crystal, but they’ll do. Now, come on.” He reached for her hand again and went up the stone stairs to the Great Hall. He led her to the arched window and gave her a smile. “In a few minutes it’ll be spectacular. We have to be ready for it.”
She fought a smile. “You’ll have to tell me what to do.”
He laughed. “Oh, I will. Here,” he said, handing her the blanket. She helped him spread it out on the floor before the window, then stood on it, watching as he opened the champagne.
“Voila!” he said as he eased the cork out and grinned at her.
“You’ve done that before,” she said.
“Opened champagne? Never with the likes of ye, Maddie,” he said and laughed at her expression. He poured them each a glass, them held out one to her. “There’s a toll, lass.”
She laughed and lifted a hand for the glass, but he grinned at her, keeping it just out of her reach.
“What’s the toll, Iain?”
“A kiss.”
She tilted her head and looked him up and down. “One kiss?”
He laughed. “Can I get more? It’s fine champagne.”
She took a step toward him. “I might be able to arrange that.”
“Payment first.”
Maddie rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Payment rendered.”
He shook his head and leaned over her. “This is fine champagne, Maddie, I can no’ accept anything less than the finest kiss.” He handed her the glass. “Here. Take a taste.”
Maddie took the glass and sipped as she watched him over the rim. He took a swallow of champagne and put his glass on the floor, then drew her into his arms.
“Now, lass, take another kind of taste.”
She laughed and lifted her mouth to his. He kissed her gently at first, then with more intensity, pulling back to take her glass from her hand and put it next to his. He drew her closer against him.
“I expect full payment, lassie.”
“Haven’t you had it?”
“Oh no, Maddie. Those were just the samples. Let me show ye what I mean.” He claimed her this time, wrapping his hand in her hair to hold her mouth to his as he parted her lips and explored her mouth with his tongue, then moaned as she responded. He pressed against her, holding her waist against his so she could feel his readiness for her, and leaning his hips into hers. When she stretched to wrap her arms around his neck, he moaned again and bent to kiss her cheeks and her neck before returning to her lips. He drew her down to the blanket and stretched out beside her, his hands roaming lower now, to cup her breasts and caress her hip. She was bolder too, running her fingers between the buttons of his shirt and finding the skin there, then reaching down to touch a naked thigh. He moved against her and lifted his head.
“Are ye wondering what a Scotsman wears under his kilt?”
She laughed softly and nodded, and Iain took her hand, placing it on the side of his knee, then, still holding it under his, ran her fingers slowly up his thigh to his hip. There was nothing but skin under her touch, and she shivered. If she moved her hand just a little to the side… He groaned as she did, and bent to her mouth again. The kiss was shorter this time, and he pulled away to stare at her.
“Damn, Maddie,” he said at last. “Ye are dangerous, that’s for sure. If we don’t stop now, I won’t. Are ye all right?”
Maddie caught her breath and smiled. Part of her knew they should stop, but part of her wanted him. Here. Now. “Yes. That was… amazing.”
He grinned and sat up, straightening his shirt.
“Damn,” he said as he reached for their glasses, handing hers to her with a shake of his head. He stood up and looked down at her, his breath still ragged. “How can I have known ye for such a short time? I feel as though ye’d always been part of me.”
“I know,” Maddie said, rising to face him. “I feel the same.”
He sipped his champagne and studied her. She turned, suddenly shy, to look out over the water. It was as marvelous as Iain had prom
ised, the sunlight just beginning to touch the top of Duntober’s tower while the sea below was still wine colored. He came to stand behind her and pulled her against his chest, looking over her shoulder as the light claimed the castle inch by inch. And he did the same with her neck, kissing tiny portions, then moving higher, until at last she turned to meet his lips with hers again. Their glasses tipped and the champagne spilled on the cool stones at their feet, but neither noticed as they concentrated. Maddie’s mind was swimming, her body crying for more while her mind refused to think at all. Just this one moment, she thought, I will enjoy this moment and look no further.
Iain lifted his mouth from hers and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. “I will miss ye when ye return to New York, Maddie.”
She nodded into his chest. “And I you, Iain. I never thought I’d meet anyone like you.”
“Will ye no’ come back again?”
She leaned back to smile at him, recognizing the words from the song “Bonnie Charlie.”
“Better loved ye canna be, Maddie Breen. Will ye no’ come back again? Or better yet, will ye no’ leave?”
“I have to.”
He nodded. “Aye. I knew ye’d say that. But promise me ye’ll come back, lassie.” He gestured at the Hall behind them, the ceiling details now visible as the light came through the window and lit the room. “Part of this castle will always belong to ye, Maddie. I don’t think I can ever stand here again and no’ think of this moment, with ye in my arms.” He bent to kiss her with the gentlest of touches. “Do ye suppose we knew each other in a former life?”
Maddie smiled and reached to touch his cheek. “It would explain how I feel I know you so well. I’ll miss you, Iain. Come see me in New York.”
He nodded. “Haven’t been there in years. Aye, I could do that. And ye’ll have to come back to Duntober. Maybe we lived here.”
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