My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3)

by Maeve Greyson

  Ronan thought back to the uneasy atmosphere of MacKenna Keep. ’Twas a sorry day when the MacKenna chieftain and his family could nay breathe easy within their own walls. “Does she ken for certain what threatens them?” Ronan rose and moved back to the window. There was something about the rain shushing against the glass that soothed his raw nerves. He traced his fingers across the fogged pane. Perhaps the sound of the rain eased his soul because it was the last sound he remembered hearing before he and Mairi had drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. Aye. He’d never felt such a sense of completeness before.

  Eliza sniffed then coughed before she spoke. “I’m certain ’tis the evil tryin’ to rise. The darkness senses yer closeness to Mairi.” Eliza spat out the words as though ridding her mouth of venom. “The closer ye draw to Mairi and the breakin’ of the curse, the more determined the evil will become—hence the storms and unexplained difficulties at MacKenna Keep.”

  Ronan rubbed his fist against the aching center of his chest. Anxiousness tightened an icy grasp about him and twisted ’til he couldna breath. “Are ye certain Mother Sinclair is prepared?”

  Eliza frowned as she worked her ring-encrusted hand inside the ruffled neckline of her silky tunic. She fished out a crumpled tissue from the cleft of her bosom and daubed it to the corners of her eyes. Her scowl deepened as she pressed the tissue to her nose and delicately blew. She sniffed again and waved a sparkling hand through the air. “Nia hasna quite worked out all that must be done. The darkness will be determined to survive by any means possible. If the wickedness deems it necessary—it will obliterate all in its path.”

  The MacKenna lands were situated in the remotest part of the Highlands, many a day’s ride from the witch’s watery grave. Was it truly the witch’s evil plaguing the clan or was it more earthly forces seeking to cause harm? Superstition and belief in the old ways flowed more surely through the veins of the clan than blood. Such beliefs had protected and honored the Sinclair women as the gifted beings that they were. But the new belief of late—the belief that anything unexplainable was the work of Lucifer and witchery and should be expunged—presented great danger to the Sinclairs.

  “I will keep the Sinclair women safe.” Ronan glanced toward the ceiling at the hard thuds sounding overhead. Mairi’s angry stomping vibrated quite clearly down through two floors. “I will keep them all safe. Even the one who wishes me dead.”

  Eliza frowned up at the steady racket. “I’ll fetch the lass before she brings every bit of plaster down around our ears.”

  Chapter 15

  “Yer not taking a single thing with ye?” Eliza peered out from under the dripping edge of her bright purple umbrella.

  Mairi pulled the brim of her hooded rain slicker farther over her face, shivering as the wintry wind pelted sleet against her. She wasn’t cold. She had on enough layers to fully clothe a small community. No. She wasn’t cold. She was pissed at the world and dreading the next few days— correction, the next few hours—more than she’d dreaded anything in her life. “I’m not going to need anything. I told you—I’m coming right back.”

  Eliza’s knuckles whitened as a gust of wind yanked at her umbrella. She jerked the collar of her heavy wool coat higher about her face. “I see.” Her tone clearly conveyed she didn’t approve of Mairi’s plan.

  Mairi shrugged deeper into the vinyl-coated canvas of her raincoat. She didn’t care what Eliza thought. All she cared about right now was keeping the gas fire pit blazing in the rain and getting this thing done—and completely over with. Never again. When she came back, her number one task was going to be a concentrated drive to become normal. Whatever the hell “normal” is.

  Heavy boots splashed through the water behind her. Mairi stiffened. She and Lilia had already said a very brief goodbye, then Lilia had taken the new puppy and retired up to her rooms. Mairi’s leaving was no big deal. She would only be gone what would hopefully amount to several hours—or at the very worst, a couple of days. Lilia hadn’t fully agreed with the plan, but she also hadn’t pushed the issue. Lilia understood her better than anyone.

  The boots splashing through the puddles of the small courtyard belonged to the lying rat bastard who had managed to weasel his way into her heart just to get what he wanted. Mairi clenched her teeth and consciously controlled her breathing. Never again. She intoned the words with every slow inhale. He lied. She blew out with every strained breath. I am so over him. She’d never let him hurt her again.

  “Do ye feel sure yer ready, then?” Ronan’s touch burned through every single layer of clothing she’d donned. Her traitorous body immediately shifted into take me now mode and double-clutched to a humming I’m more than ready overdrive.

  Mairi moved away from the weight of his hand against her back. “Definitely. This isn’t exactly my first rodeo. Let’s do this.”

  Ronan’s mouth tightened and his jaw rippled as he jerked his chin down with a curt nod. He slowly pulled his hand away and clasped it behind his back. Sorrow and pain darkened the shimmering pewter of his eyes to a miserable murky gray. His broad shoulders sagged beneath the dark plaid draped across his chest. Ronan looked like a man who had lost everything.

  Good. Mairi swallowed hard against the sudden uncomfortable lump in her throat. I’m glad he’s hurting. Look what he did to me. Mairi cleared her throat and pointed toward the small gas-lit ring of flames sputtering in the rain. “You already know what to expect. It’ll be just the same as when Granny sent you forward.”

  Ronan pursed his lips and nodded. The way he kept his somber gaze fixed on her tightened the emotional band already strangling her chest and squeezed. Mairi turned away, blinking hard to force back the tears. No more crying. He is so not worth it.

  “Ye’ll need to hold fast to him, child. When Nia sent him forward, she hooked him to the marker at this end—namely, you. She tagged him to yer spirit. He’ll no’ have that advantage this time.” Eliza motioned for Ronan to move closer to Mairi. “If ye dinna keep tight hold of him, who knows where he’ll land.”

  Mairi struggled against the urge to blurt out Who cares? She glared at Ronan from under the brim of her hood and held out her gloved hand. “Don’t let go of my hand. I don’t have time to search for you, to figure out where the time portal dropped your sorry ass.”

  Ronan’s eyes narrowed. He looked as though he could bite through a rail spike. He closed his hand around hers then pulled her hard against his chest and tightened his other arm around her waist. “I’ll never let ye go. Ye best be learnin’ that straightaway. I never break an oath, ye ken?”

  The way Ronan stressed the word never triggered warning sirens in Mairi’s head. The protective wall around her pounding heart shifted to DEFCON one: maximum alert readiness—war imminent. Mairi pushed back, blinking against the rain dripping in her eyes. “I said hold my hand. A bear hug is not necessary.”

  Ronan scowled down into her face and locked his arms tighter around her. “We travel this way or no’ at all.” He jerked his chin downward in a curt nod. “The choice be yers.”

  Mairi squirmed around and glared at the fire. “At least let loose enough so I can breathe and say the damn chant.”

  Ronan’s arms relaxed a hairsbreadth, but his scowl only deepened.

  How the hell was she supposed to concentrate and open the portal with six and a half feet of hard-muscled Scot pressed against her? Her body tingled and ached. Every nerve ending pulsed with anticipation, longing for a repeat of last night’s delicious romp. He’s a liar, Mairi repeated over and over in her mind. I don’t care, her flaming libido argued. Neither do I, her heart whispered.

  “If we end up in the Stone Age, it’s going to be your fault.” Mairi jerked her head toward the struggling ring of fire. “We’ve got to get closer. Once I say the words and the flames freeze, jump when I do.”

  His face a tensed mask, Ronan briefly glanced at the fire then returned his focus to Mairi. “Aye. I remember the wretched jump. I ken what t’do.”

 
Mairi bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reassuring Ronan that everything would be all right. Stop it. He is not endearing. Don’t feel sorry for him, she told herself. Still, her heart ached to ease Ronan’s fears.

  Mairi sucked in a deep breath and nodded to Eliza. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Eliza didn’t say a word. She just slowly turned and faced the fire.

  Mairi spread her fingers across the small of Ronan’s back, doing her level best to ignore how the wet silk of his shirt smoothed to a sensuous velvety heat beneath her hands. Turning her head, she locked her gaze on the blue white flames of the fire, hissing and sputtering against the icy rain.

  Tensed, Mairi stared at the fire, eyes burning for want of tears. Focus, dammit. She sucked in a deep breath and blocked out every sound except for the pelting rain.

  And then she felt it.

  Faint at first and then stronger. Finally. Mairi released the breath she’d been holding and welcomed the old familiar burn. The energy grew, enfolding her with tendrils of pulsing, welcoming heat.

  “It’s time,” Mairi whispered. “Hold tight.”

  “I swear to ye I will never let ye go.”

  Mairi forced herself to remain focused, but a tiny part of her shivered at the underlying meaning of Ronan’s tone. Mairi knew on a deep, very basic level, Ronan wasn’t just talking about the jump.

  Mairi licked the rain from her lips and slowly rocked back and forth toward the fire as she began the chant.

  “Web of time

  Veil of space

  Carry us to our chosen place

  Borne of water

  Trialed by fire

  My Sinclair blood claims this power

  For the good of all

  With harm to none

  So as it is spoken

  So let it be done.”

  The flames crackled like tinkling glass as they stretched in length and froze into solid shards of glistening blue white ice. Mairi nodded one last time to Eliza then looked up into Ronan’s face. She gently rocked them to and fro three times. When they swayed toward the fire the third time, Mairi shouted, “So mote it be!”

  It took a moment for Mairi to realize that the deep growling sound shaking through her was Ronan roaring some sort of battle cry. “Close your eyes,” she shouted against his cold, clammy cheek as they tumbled through space.

  Ronan’s arms tightened around her and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Mairi couldn’t help herself. She clutched him tighter, lacing her fingers through his close-cropped hair and wrapping her legs around his waist.

  The energy of the tunnel moaned and screeched, snatching at hair and clothes as they spun through the layers of time. Mairi kept Granny locked in her mind. Granny’s smiling face, her glowing staff, and her welcoming outstretched hand was their target.

  Their spinning slowed as their fall through time drew to a close. “We’re nearly there,” Mairi shouted. “Brace yourself.”

  Her ears popped as they broke through. Mairi opened her eyes and shifted her weight as they spiraled downward. The ground rushed up to meet them with an abrupt and painful thud. Still clenched tightly together, they rolled and bounced down the tufted hillside.

  Ronan hissed out another stream of Gaelic. They finally thudded to a stop against a grassy incline. Mairi slowly lifted her head, opened one eye, and looked around. A groan escaped her as she shifted atop Ronan.

  Dammit. Even my hair hurts. In a few hours, she’d be one big bruise. She’d never mastered controlling the landing out of the time cloud. Granny had often warned this failing would probably someday break her neck. She peered down at Ronan, sprawled beneath her with his eyes shut. She lightly thumped his chest. “We’re here.”

  Ronan’s eyes remained closed and his arms stayed locked around her waist. If not for the subtle rise and fall of his chest beneath her, Mairi would’ve sworn he was dead. She pushed herself upright while still sitting astraddle his body. “Ronan. We’re here.” Still no response. “Ronan, are you all right?” She patted the center of his chest again—a bit more urgently.

  Ronan remained silent and unresponsive.

  Oh, Lord. I’ve put him in a coma. Mairi leaned forward and cradled Ronan’s face between her hands. “Ronan, you’ve got to wake up.” Mairi waited then hitched herself higher up the length of hard muscle beneath her. “Ronan. Say something. Please?”

  Still no response.

  Mairi straightened, stretching as tall as Ronan’s grip on her waist would allow, and looked around. Dammit. Now what was she supposed to do? They were supposed to come here, get the job done, and then she could go back home. Mairi did her best to ignore the sick knot of worry about Ronan cutting off her air. He would be fine. After all, he was immortal. Right?

  Mairi twisted and scanned the landscape. And where the hell had they landed? If Ronan didn’t regain consciousness and lead her to the keep, how the devil would she find her family? If she had to heal him, how long would it take him to fully regain his strength? Or would his immortality heal him? If it did, how long would it take? She could be stuck in this century for entirely too long. Dammit!

  The longer she sat astraddle of Ronan’s body, the more increasingly aware she became of an ever-hardening ridge beneath her ass. Mairi glared down at his tightly closed eyes. You sneaky bastard. She folded her arms across her chest and wiggled from side to side. The length and hardness of said ridge grew in direct correlation with the sheen of sweat now glistening on Ronan’s forehead. With slow erotic accuracy, Mairi rocked her pelvis back and forth, holding her breath against her own growing desire.

  Ronan groaned. His eyes popped open and he moved to pull her closer.

  Mairi jerked out of his grasp, rolled to her feet, and sidled away. “You faking son of a bitch. Get your ass up. We’ve got work to do.”

  Ronan heaved out a groaning sigh and rolled to a sitting position. “Never in all my years have I ever heard a woman use such foul language.”

  “Then you’ve obviously never pissed off any other women as much as you’ve pissed me off.” Mairi shucked her ungainly raincoat and wadded it up under one arm. Damn, she’d worn too many clothes. “Now get up from there and show me the way to MacKenna Keep.”

  Ronan didn’t say a word, just sat there staring up at her.

  “Will you come on?” Mairi stomped a rubber boot. She was tired. She was sore and she was in no mood to be toyed with. Judging by the failing sunlight, full nightfall would be on them soon and she had no intention of sleeping on the cold hard ground of the Highlands—especially not with Ronan. She paced a few steps around the circumference of the hillside, searching for a path, a road, or some clue that might lead her to MacKenna Keep.

  She looked back at Ronan. There he sat, arms looped casually around his bent legs, studying her as though she were some sort of lab specimen. “What the hell is wrong with you now?”

  Ronan shook his head. A sad smile darkened his expression as he slowly rose to his feet. “One thing, lass.”

  “What?”

  “I fear I’ve come t’love a verra coldhearted woman.”

  Mairi shuffled in place, hardening herself to the sad longing of Ronan’s expression. Why would he say such a thing? She’d brought him back to the thirteenth-century Highlands. She was going to heal his mother and his friend. The curse would be broken. Her family’s punishment from the Fates would be complete and she could return to twenty-first-century Edinburgh, where she belonged. It was a done deal. Everybody was headed straight for their happy-ass ever after. “You don’t have to keep up the act. I’m here. You got what you wanted.”

  Ronan rolled his shoulders and settled his stance as though squaring off for battle. His chin rose just enough to clearly convey the message that he wasn’t pleased. He took one broad step forward and fixed Mairi with a look that rattled her to her soul. “Ye err in yer thinkin’, lass. I have no’ attained what I truly desire—yet.”

  Chapter 16

  SCOTLAND—THIRTEENTH CENTURY
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  They were in his time now. His familiar time. Ronan already felt renewed strength and hope pulsing through his veins. He inhaled a deep breath of the cold crisp Highland air. Aye. Even the air of this time tasted better.

  “Shit!”

  Ronan caught Mairi up, steadying her by one elbow as she stumbled and tripped through the slick tangle of thick grass rolling across the hillside. “Take care, lass. The hoarfrost makes the grass as slippery as ice.”

  “I should’ve worn my hiking boots.” Mairi yanked her arm free like a petulant child. “How much farther?” Her breath puffed a cloudy mist in the frosty air as she pressed gloved hands to her bright red cheeks and scowled at their surroundings.

  Ronan slowly turned, scanning the familiar landscape. The blue green hills and mountains spread before them like muted tones of a worn hunting plaid draped across a sleeping giant. The evening mist was settling and freezing across the ground. Soft whirls of ethereal white flowed into the dips and valleys, blanketing the Highlands for coming nightfall. The softly graying light of the horizon was slowly fading into a starless void of black. There would be no stars tonight. Wintry clouds would shield the land from the stars’ prying eyes.

  “We will arrive before sunrise if we travel all night.” Ronan unwound his plaid and wrapped it around Mairi’s trembling body.

  Mairi tugged the wool cloth free and handed it back to him. “I’m fine.”

  Ronan took the cloth, shook it out, and yanked it around Mairi again. “Wear it. I’ll no’ have ye freezin’ and takin’ ill.”

  “I said I am fine.” Mairi strained her words through gritted teeth. With a narrow-eyed look that left no doubt as to her black mood, she ripped the plaid away from her shoulders, wadded it into a ball, and threw it at Ronan’s chest. “Keep it. All you’re wearing is a silk shirt and leather-wannabe jeans. I’ve got on layers. I. Am. Fine.”

  Ronan had no idea what the hell leather-wannabe jeans were, but he knew for a fact he was ready to turn Mairi o’er his knee and tan her stubborn arse. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest. “Ye have but one choice. Wear the plaid and we keep walking ’til we reach the keep. Refuse the plaid and we bed down. Right here. And I shall see to it yer kept suitably warm throughout the night wi’ the heat of me own body.” Ronan tightened his other arm about Mairi’s waist and molded his hardness into her soft inviting curves. “Which shall it be?”