Was she expecting Jake to gaze upon her differently? Why? Had he not ignored her previous choice? He was not a man to care if she wore a gown or leather trews.
A loud knock, unlike the servant’s timid scratch, had her running to the door. Jake gripped her arm, and a frown filled his dirty face.
Dirt? Or, ash? “A servant spoke of fire, and I smell it on ye, What has happened?”
Do I really want to know?
“The stable caught fire.”
Horror gripped her.
“The barn? Is anyone inside? The animals!”
His face softened, and he dipped his head and kissed her.
Something brittle inside her very soul opened beneath his no-longer-surly expression. The smell of ash and flame complimented his nature, and he tasted of whisky. “Ye have been drinking?”
“Just to clean away the taste of the burning wood.”
“ ‘Tis not a taste ye love?”
“No. Beer or cola works for me. Water, in a pinch, but we had filled every bucket with it. Anyway, to answer your question, everyone is accounted for.” He removed his filthy shirt and wiped his face. His plaid was damp.
“I doona’ think ye should be undressing in my bedchamber.” Skye worried her brother might walk in, since he had already sent a servant to search her out.
“Sorry. I’ll head to my room for another shirt. Tavish and Dara are fine. Bull heard their screams and ran inside.” Jake peeked down the hall, then slumped against the doorframe.
Skye walked closer. “He is unhurt?”
“The fool ran inside a burning building!”
“Aye, but is he injured?”
Jake paused. “He saved the horses and two stable boys before the roof caved in.”
CHAPTER 22
When he saw the concern for Bull etched on Skye’s face, Jake dug his fingernails into his palms. His chest ached with a deep intake of breath. He pounded his fist against his thigh at his thoughtlessness.
Bull had acted the hero, while he was busy taking the young woman to bed. Jake would not meet her gaze. A prickling of fear tore through him. What they had done in her bed was like Heaven. But, to share pleasure at the same time his friend was out saving livestock, and Mackenzie’s kin, was embarrassing. What if anyone found out?
Guilt tore through him, even as his fingers yearned to stroke her cheek. For a brief moment, her eyes said “Touch me.”
Instead, she said, “Tell me. Is Bull unhurt?”
Jake paced from the door to the window, and back. “He was burned.”
Skye inhaled sharply at his words.
“I shall collect healing supplies, and treat his burns. Where are my shoes?” Skye rushed to the other side of her bed. Jake stayed in the doorway. Footsteps echoed off the stones, heading toward this floor.
“Bull will be fine. He got a bit scorched.”
“Scorched?” Skye’s head popped up from the opposite side of the bed. It took all his strength to stay where he was, in the doorway.
She is so damn cute.
“Marcus has some kind of healer looking after him. Since he saved those boys, Lady Fia plans to wine and dine him. The seat beside him will be popular.” The bitterness in his voice was evident even to him, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“I am glad—”
“I’m sure he’ll make room for you.”
“Bastard,” she hissed.
He turned on his heel and strode down the hall, cursing beneath his breath. Hell’s fire! He’d mouthed off. What did he expect?
Jake watched her over his shoulder, as he headed to his room. Skye followed on his heels with her skirts hitched up, urgency written on her face. She bit her lower lip, and her glare bore a hole into his back. Banging open the door to the room he’d been assigned, he planned to slam it in her face.
She marched passed his door, and headed for the stairs.
Good riddance.
It was then that he realized she had replaced the simple dress that he had pushed off her body, with a deep blue gown that matched her eye color.
Who is she trying to impress?
Had she dressed for him, or for Bull? Was it only concern for Bull’s safety that sent her flying down the stairs? Had she fallen in love with Bull? The very thought of Skye, kissing or touching another man, ripped through him. Jealousy burned in his gut.
Why do I feel this way?
Jake rubbed his chest, and grabbed a clean shirt. He brushed wet hay and dirty cinders from his borrowed plaid, then turned his attention to his scuffed and muddy boots. He had instigated a bucket brigade, but the wood building burned in record time. The surrounding castle walls, built of red sandstone, survived. The scorch marks would last eons. Thankfully everyone inside, including his horses, made it out alive.
He marched from the room. Where he headed, he didn’t know. The urge to head anywhere he could no longer smell Skye’s enchanting fragrance grew. Skye Gunn was not the woman for him. She lived in the past; he was from the future. She was a witch; he was…
What? What am I?
All he was sure of was that they had nothing in common. If she wanted Bull she could have him.
Descending the grand staircase, he skirted the great hall, and headed toward the destroyed barn. The stench of burning timbers would suit him just fine.
When he stepped outside, the devastation in the corner that once housed the stables gripped him. His stomach churned at the sight. He’d come close to losing his friend.
How did the barn catch fire? He had set foot inside the large wooden structure once, when he stabled his horses. No lit torches were evident. No blacksmith tools or smoking coal furnace, either. Clear skies meant no lightning had struck the fragile building.
Marcus Mackenzie stood near the wreckage, talking to Kirk. Jake headed toward them, and overheard chilling words.
“Aye, ye and I are in agreement. ‘Tis the work of an evil man,” Marcus said.
Kirk’s anger, easily read in his bared teeth and wide warrior’s stance, made Jake hesitate. He and Kirk were guests of the clan chief, but both knew they had to be vigilant in order to keep everyone safe. Kirk growled, and kicked a smoldering cinder toward the wreckage.
“Whoever was responsible, I doubt a couple of stable boys were worth his wrath.”
“Are ye saying someone is mocking us?”
Jake stepped between the men, and the smoldering ruins that nearly claimed his prized animals, and his friend. “They didn’t start the fire to kill Bull, did they?”
“Calm yerself, Highlander. We have dealt with this particular demon and we shall finish it.”
“First of all, I am not a Highlander. Secondly, have you talked to Skye?” Jake shook his fist in Kirk’s face. Kirk didn’t slap it away, but his eyes closed to slits as he drew himself up to his full height.
“I talked to my sister about ye the day after ye left all of us on the eve of battle, five years ago. I have not spoken more than a few words with her, as recent events have kept me busy. She only asked about Alec’s welfare, then sped off to see Lady Haven.”
At the mention of Alec, Jake’s hands twisted into fists.
Kirk ignored his reaction, and turned to Marcus. “After recent events, I shall ask ye to place guards strategically around my sister, and Alec.”
Alec, again.
“Of course,” Marcus answered.
Jake stepped closer to Skye’s brother. The similarities were far from obvious. Kirk’s eyes were blue, but not nearly as intense as Skye’s. His hair was a reddish brown, while Skye’s was black as coal. She was petite while Kirk stood at least 4 inches taller than Jake. After he let Kirk’s words sink in, he thought of something.
“Did she tell you she was kidnapped? Did she tell you about the painful wound on her hip?”
Kirk swung from Marcus back to Jake, who had not moved from the spot.
“Nay, she never mentioned—”
“I suggest you ask her about it because—”
“How
do ye know this, Highlander? Were ye involved?” Kirk said, and pulled his dirk from the scabbard at his belt. He waved it under Jake’s nose.
The man is insane.
“Listen, buster, I didn’t touch her,” Jake yelled back, his only defense. The memories of stolen kisses, and their hour in bed, made him turn away, “but, she has three very ugly claw marks below her right breast, and along her hip. I had to remove her soaked dress—”
A fist slammed Jake’s nose. Pain exploded across his face, and he staggered back a few steps. It was only his military training that kept him balanced and upright. Understanding kept him from retaliating. He had just told a Highland laird that he’d seen his sister naked.
Oops.
Blood trickled from his nose, and down his chin. “My apologies, Kirk. Skye was soaking wet, freezing, and bleeding. I took care of her until my friend, Jenny, could take over and treat her injuries.”
“Jenny? A female friend?”
“Yes. I would never take advantage of a young woman. I care for Skye.” Jake ignored the blood trickling down his chin. He disregarded an urge to wipe the evidence away. He deserved the pain and, though he longed to raise his hand and feel how badly Kirk’s fist had broken his nose, he stood still.
Kirk stepped closer. “We shall discuss your indiscretion later. How did she explain her wounds?”
“I believe, brother, that the story is mine to tell.”
The men turned toward the steps leading into the castle. Skye stood on the top step with her arms crossed across her chest.
She was so beautiful, Jake couldn’t breathe. She stood ramrod straight, with her breasts jutting out against the dark blue dress. The wind whistling into the bailey through the gate tossed her braid’s feathered end to the side. She tapped one foot angrily on the stone, marched down the stairs, and away from them.
Where was she heading? To find and comfort Bull? Envy sparked in his chest, and he stifled a growl. His gaze followed her until she rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. He missed her.
Even frowning, and obviously angry with him, her beauty made his body come alive. A certain part hardened, as it had when he’d caressed her naked curves beneath the blankets.
When I irresponsibly visited her room and made love with her.
Jake clenched his jaw. Kirk and Marcus watched his reaction. Standing still, while Skye disappeared, made his shoulders ache. His arms yearned to gather her to him, and carry her back to bed.
A bad idea, considering the circumstances.
Kirk would not allow him to get close enough to shake her hand. Instead, he drew out a square of linen he’d tucked behind his kilt’s belt, and blotted the blood dribbling down his chin. Skye’s expression had briefly softened when she noticed his injury. The concern that danced over her features had warmed his heart, until it vanished in a flash.
When she had descended the steps, she pressed her hand on her injured hip. Had Kirk noticed? Jake glanced at the man, but Kirk was glaring at him.
Skye’s hip ached, and the bandages pulled against her bruised skin. When she stopped walking, the pain eased. She looked around. Where had she planned to go? When she had marched passed Jake’s bedchamber, she had not looked back to see if he followed.
Her brother wanted to talk to her, but Bull was more important. She would find Kirk later. She wanted a chance to speak with him about her kidnapping by the sorcerer, and her trip to the future. She found a servant that told her Bull was resting, but the healer needed several herbs from the herb shed.
When she spotted Jake speaking with Marcus and her brother, all breath left her body. Stopping at the top of the stairs, she was surprised to see them arguing. Stopping to stare, she spoke up the moment Kirk spoke to Jake about her. Concern for a friend subsided, as her anger at her brother grew.
How dare he discuss her with another man? Besides, they had worries of a greater nature at hand. Marcus must be beside himself with anger and worry. Fia and her unborn child could be a target as well.
The shaded side of the castle was cooler, and a shiver made her clamp her arms around her stomach. Why had she failed to settle a cloak over her shoulders?
The discomfort had her hesitate, but something darker warned her to stop and retrace her steps. She could not shake away the feeling.
Rubbing her hands up and over her bare arms did little to comfort her, but she kept going. She kept her head down, looking for debris in her path. Amid the shadows, she could distance herself from a certain person. “The sooner I am far from Jake Jamison, the better. Too bad ‘tis so cold.”
An eerie laugh made her look up. “I can warm ye.”
Skye had walked into a trap.
Why had she assumed she would remain safe while inside the walls of Castle Ruadh? Hadn’t Haven and Cameron been kidnapped from the castle grounds? Instead of stepping cautiously, aware of her surroundings, she had left herself open to danger.
“Ye will never touch me again,” she whispered.
He laughed again, and a shiver spread through her, chilling her far more than the cool air. Her arms dropped to her sides, her fingers gripped the midnight blue fabric, and she slowly drew her dress to her knees. A breeze tickled her calf, and raced up to her thighs. She had not stopped to step into stockings.
She kicked off her slippers, preparing to run. The black gaze of the one man she detested followed her action, and his mouth opened into a leer. His puffed chest and clasping fingers signaled his growing interest.
Keep him interested in anything besides killing me, or my family.
Sliding one hand toward the back of her thigh, Skye fingered the hilt of her sgian dubh. She had tied the tiny dagger and sheath in place with a leather tie.
Like the one Jake used to keep his hair out of his face.
This was not the time to think of the blacksmith. If he came barreling around the corner to save her, it would be worse. No one else must die today, besides Andreas Borthwick.
Or, me.
With speed, powered by hate, the small dagger flew toward her former abductor. Before it could reach its intended mark, blackness blinded her. A thick fog tasting of cinders filled her mouth.
She spit, coughed, and flew into the air. Her head slammed against the cold ground. Momentarily blinded, then winded, she feared her dagger had not connected. Cold, bony fingers slid up her inner thigh. She kicked, meeting resistance, then nothing but ice. Attempts to breathe failed miserably.
Am I dead?
The air crackled, clearing suddenly. Looking up, shadows parted to show a misty trace of blue sky. Her chest ached and her bandaged hip throbbed. She successfully inhaled a shallow breath, and licked her parched lips.
“Lady Skye? Are ye ill?”
“Why am I on my back?” Skye’s distorted vision settled on the freckled nose, and concerned eyes, of Reid MacRob. When had he arrived?
“I doona’ know how ye got on the ground. Do ye?”
“Did ye scare away the bastard?” Or, had her knife found its mark? She must have looked as dazed as she felt.
Reid shouted for help. “I saw no one. Are ye hurt?”
“I be fine. Help me up.”
Reid’s shock of red hair, and wide-opened eyes, faded from view. She shook away the black dots dancing in front of her eyes, and clutched an offered hand; a hand too large and overly male to belong to young Reid.
“Jake?” Her words came out in a whisper, and she felt the rush of heat that must have stained her cheeks.
He pulled, and gently set her on her feet. After lying on the ground, the warmth of his callused fingers was a welcome change. Silently, he swept hair from her face, then settled his hand on her neck. His gentle tug was full of promise, and she wet her lips, again.
Kirk shoved him away.
CHAPTER 23
Skye staggered and, as she gained her balance, shrunk back from an ominous growl. Jake’s attention had locked on her brother, who had no idea of the danger. Stepping between the men, she braced her han
ds against two muscled chests, intent on stopping a battle.
“Kirk, leave him be. We can talk later.”
“Ye will explain what happened here, now!”
Her brother was persistent, but her head throbbed and her entire body ached. The sorcerer must have hit her with an energy bolt.
Marcus’ face appeared out of the shadows, lit by a torch. The alleyway rose out of solid shadows, but she worried the threat was still near. The concern for her well-being, shining in Marcus’ eyes, was endearing and upsetting. Reid stood next to him, probably explaining what little he had seen. He had not witnessed the attack, so where was the sorcerer now?
“Laird Mackenzie, I beg ye triple the guards,” she wheezed. Air was hard to come by, yet she held her ground between two huge men set on pummeling each other.
Marcus shouted instructions without asking for an explanation. The man was a born leader, and a wave of appreciation spread through her. He had taken her word that danger lurked as truth.
Jake stepped back, his breathing rapid, and his eyes still more flame then blue. “Skye, why did young Reid find you on your back in the dirt?”
Kirk grumbled under his breath, but said nothing.
She struggled to brush dirt from her dress, mortified that they had found her a mess. Skye faced them, and sighed. “I will explain. However, I would feel more at ease inside the castle.”
“Skye, spill.”
“Nay. I shall speak when we are safe inside.”
“We are inside the bailey, protected by walls, a closed gate, and armed guards. We are more than safe,” Reid scoffed.
“Ye are too young still,” Kirk said, and wrapped his arm around Skye. “There is more to be wary of than an attack from without these walls. Someone or something attacked my sister, inside the castle grounds. The same thing happened to my wife, Haven.”
Jake kicked an errant oak bucket, and fought to gain control of whatever the heck lived inside him. Someone had attacked Skye, and it was all his fault. Instead of standing in front of the burned barn with Marcus and Kirk, why hadn’t he followed his heart’s desire, and gone after her?
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