The Highlander's Touch

Home > Other > The Highlander's Touch > Page 13
The Highlander's Touch Page 13

by D. K. Combs


  “Well…” She frowned, hands wringing. Blaine never complimented her, she realized. Whenever Blaine wanted attention and compliments, she got them.

  Saeran could recall the one time she’d been excited about a gown her father had gotten her for her birthday. A beautiful sky-blue piece, it had only enhanced the blue of her eyes and the gold locks of her hair—at least, that’s what her mother had told her.

  She’d ran to her sister’s room, excited to show off the new gown, only to be greeted with a pitiful sneer. “You’re too thick for such a dress, dear sister. Mother only said you looked beautiful to make you feel better,” she’d said. When Saeran had only stared at her, too stunned to speak, Blaine had smiled. “Gray is a color more suited to you, and it should be baggy. It’ll hide your body.”

  Saeran had run out of the room in tears.

  “I’m too thick,” she said, frowning at him. “Too thick, too large in the chest, and too...blonde.”

  “Are you serious?”

  She blushed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t help the way I—”

  “No, Saeran. Do you truly believe what she said to you? That’s the biggest load of shite I’ve ever heard—excuse my language.” He continued to watch Saeran, his eyes blazing, and then he turned away sharply, once again shaking his head.

  A thought occurred to her.

  “Do you think...do you think the laird will think I’m repulsive if I came to him as a woman and not a man?”

  He turned around sharply, eyes wide with hope. “Why do you ask? Are you going to reveal yourself to him?”

  “No, no. I was simply...curious.”

  Connor slumped against the stall, obviously disappointed. “If you aren’t going to tell him the truth, why are you thinking on it?” he muttered petulantly. “There isn’t any use in it.”

  Saeran blushed, feeling like a fool. There had to be something about her that the laird liked, or he wouldn’t have made such a silly deal with her. What kind of man would go as far as asking a woman he’d never met before to share her company in exchange for what they both knew would be an unpleasant encounter with Blaine? Aye, there was something about her that was likeable. She did, after all, have Connor as a friend.

  Connor, who was friends with the laird, and who knew what the man liked.

  She gave him a look, then smiled, ignoring the guilt that rose inside of her. She shouldn’t try to impress the laird, as he was meant for her sister, but it had been so long since she’d been in a gown, and in front of a man in one, that she wanted to make this event last, no matter how ridiculous it was.

  “Connor, I do not want you to get the wrong idea in your head,” she warned, already groaning mentally when his face perked up. He straightened from the wall. “But...the laird and I are meeting at midday.”

  “You’re meeting,” he repeated. “Didn’t you just say that you weren’t going to—”

  “He thinks I am someone else,” she told him, waving his concern away. “Alice, though I didn’t tell him that was my name directly.”

  “How does that make sense?” he asked. “Actually, how on earth did this come about? Is your sister aware of this? Has she already given you trouble over it?” His eyes widened and his hands began flapping in the air excitedly. “Oh, you need a beautiful gown for this. He’ll fall at your feet, I just know it!”

  Saeran blushed.

  “Mayhap, but...I do not wish to go overboard on the matter, Connor. This is the only time I’ll be meeting with the laird.”

  “How did this even happen?”

  Her blush worsened. “I...last night, I had a bit of a lapse in judgment. He came upon me in the kitchen. To shorten the story, he promised me that if I met with him today, he would eat with my sister tonight. Blaine has been getting awfully angry over his negligence,” she explained, wincing when his eyes darkened.

  “You agreed to help your sister, even after all she’s put you through?” He threw up his hands. She ran forward, calmly patting his arm.

  “I did not start the night off with that intention,” she said wearily. “It just...happened. The laird can be quite domineering when he wants something.”

  Connor’s eyes locked on hers, widening. “He wants you.”

  Saeran burst into laughter.

  “No, my lady. He does! He’s had no time for women of late, including Gwen. He wants to spend time with you,” Connor said, his voice dropping to a sigh of happiness. She looked at him strangely. “That is so romantic! You’re going to look beautiful.”

  “I am?” She backed away from him uneasily, not trusting the determination that had settled over his face.

  “Yes. You are. So enchanting that the laird will lose all thoughts of Blaine and ask for your hand.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Connor, don’t say such things! That cannot happen. Kane Shaw is meant for Blaine, and that’s that.”

  He waggled his brows at her.

  “The heart wants what the heart wants, love. Come! We must get you ready for your lover’s tryst.”

  “This is in no way a lover’s tryst! Not of any kind,” she insisted, resisting when he took her by the hand, dragging her out of the stables. “What about my duties? Brodrick will have my hide if he finds that I didn’t complete them.”

  “You would rather wade through horse shite than turn into a beauty for the laird? My lady, we need to discuss your priorities.”

  THT | 14

  “I feel ridiculous,” she hissed, grabbing a fistful of her skirts and holding them up. “These are blue.”

  “Yes, and?” Connor walked behind her, taking one of her curls and wrapping it around his finger. He stared at her speculatively, like she was a prized pastry he was presenting to the king. She pulled herself away from him, gesturing to her outfit sharply.

  “This is not my color! I told you that gray was the best, and—and this makes me look too…too...I don’t know. Highlanders like women who are slender, like Blaine. Look at me! I’m as chunky as a boar, Connor. This a terrible idea. I do not see the point of dressing up. You’re acting as though I am going to court!”

  Connor rolled his eyes, reaching forward to swipe his thumb under her lip. She stuck her tongue out, licking it. He yanked his hand way from her, wiping his thumb on his sleeve. He frowned at her.

  “That is disgusting.”

  She hmph’ed, crossing her arms over her chest. His eyes dropped to her cleavage and he grinned. Her arms fell to her sides.

  “That is disgusting,” she muttered. Connor only shook his head, reaching out to adjust another curl.

  “I have a question, actually.”

  She raised a brow. “Aye?”

  “Does that…” He waved a hand toward her bosom. She started to blush. “Does that not hurt? To have them bound when you pretend to be a boy?”

  “I...It is hard to breathe sometimes, but the over-sized shirt helps disguise them if I do not tighten the binding as much as I should.”

  Connor nodded slowly, taking that in with a dubious look.

  “Well, in any case, you look wonderful,” he said, stepping away from her. He sounded like her mother had whenever Blaine would show off a dress, though he was much too proud about it. “He’s going to faint at your feet!”

  “You keep saying that, but the laird does not seem like one to faint at a woman’s feet. He’s more likely to impale her with his claymore or whatever it is he uses in battle.”

  “What kind of battle are you talking about?” Connor asked, snickering. She didn’t understand what he—oh.

  “That is disgusting! There will be no impaling of that sort,” she said sternly, then closed her eyes on a sigh. She wondered what the laird was doing now. Was he as nervous as she was? She could have laughed at her own question if she weren’t beginning to feel sick.

  Connor pinched her cheeks. She gasped, pulling away from him.

  “You look a bit pale,” he said, chuckling. Then he started to pull her to the door. “Come, he�
�s waiting.”

  “What—how do you know? Oh, Lord,” she whispered, face losing the color Connor had tried to force into it. “What if Blaine sees me? I completely forgot!”

  He rolled his eyes. “Who cares if she does?”

  “I do! I’ll never hear the end of it if she sees me cavorting with Lord Shaw like some lady of the night.” She moved away from the door, shaking her head. “I cannot do this, Connor. I simply can’t. This feels—”

  “Do not say it feels wrong,” he warned her, waving a finger in her face. “This is most definitely not wrong. This is right and this is perfect. Blaine will not see you—she’s out in the gardens, my lady. Either the gardens or the village. Either way, you’re safe. And if you’re not, and she sees you? What does it matter!”

  “She’ll get on me about my cover being blown—”

  “Saeran,” he said, giving her a flat look. “You are more naive than I thought if you think your cover won’t be blown. Now! The laird awaits.”

  The laird was indeed waiting. Connor shoved her into the hall, right in front of the huge, hulking man, and she realized that he’d thrown her to the lion like a piece of meat to be devoured. She turned around, desperate to follow him in his escape of the hall, but the laird’s sharp intake held her back.

  Slowly, heart sinking with every movement, she turned around. He knew—he recognized her as Saeran. Her ruse was up and she was going to die by his sword.

  Though the fear was so intense that her heart was climbing up her throat, she managed to meet his eyes...and everything stilled.

  He was breathtaking. He’d cleaned up since that morning. His hair was still wild, long, and bed-head quality, and his jaw still held the stubble that had grown overnight, but his eyes were clear of the turmoil that had been in them, instead filled with a look she’d only seen from him, a look she didn’t understand.

  All she knew was that the way he was looking at her made her face turn pink and her body tremble.

  “I was beginning to think ye’ were no’ going to show,” he grunted. The look left his eyes, and he came forward, until he was standing in front of her. That’s all he did. Stood there. Staring down at her. No bow or any other sort of greeting.

  She smiled weakly, forcing her nerves down.

  It didn’t seem like her cover had been blown. He hadn’t noticed, she realized with a start. She didn’t know what his gasp had been for, but it wasn’t because he’d realized who she was. A rush of relief and something else ran through her.

  “I was beginning to hope I wouldn’t have to,” she replied. His eyes widened. Just barely, but enough for her to know she had spoken out of turn. “I did not mean it like—”

  He bowed his head to her, but not before she saw the flash of white when he smiled. “I’m going to take that as ye’ didn’t want me to agree to eat with Blaine, and no’ that yer going to dread my company.”

  “I’m so sorry for—”

  “Nay, lass. Donna fash yerself.” He started walking away from her, towards the kitchens. Saeran watched him go, her feet glued to the ground. Blaine could be in there. If her sister saw her— “Are ye’ coming?”

  She looked between him and the direction he’d been going, biting her lip.

  He turned to her fully, raising a brow. “I’ll only dine with Blaine if ye’ go with me, lass. That’s the deal. Do ye’ not want me to sit with her?”

  I don’t know what I want you to do, she thought, worrying her hands in front of her.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, flashing that same smile and coming to take her hand. He twined his fingers through hers, ignoring her shocked gasp, and began pulling her to the doors.

  “Where are we going?” she demanded, trying to pull her hand away from him. He held fast, continuing to pull her. She would have fought harder had she not realized how big his hand was around hers, how utterly masculine this beast of a man was compared to her daintiness. She was entranced into silence, simply by his presence, when she should have been anything but.

  “Out. I need to check the fences near the MacLeod border to see if they’ll hold up for the next storm, and yer coming with me.” He held the door open for her, then gestured her inside. Her heart nearly stopped with the relief she felt when she saw that Blaine wasn’t near—and nor could she hear her voice coming from the open door that lead to the training grounds.

  “So far?” she asked, meeting his eyes over her shoulder when he stayed close behind her. “It’s quite a ride, it would us several hours to get back, and I fear that without a chaperone, I cannot let this happen.”

  He chuckled. The sound was so deep and silky that it rolled down her back like water. A warm feeling settled in her stomach. She picked up her pace, struggling to ignore how affected she was by just a laugh.

  “We have all the time in the world, lass, and ye’ have no need for a chaperone. I’m the host, I’m guardianship enough. Donna worry, ye’ll be well protected from any enemies we cross.”

  But who will protect me from you? she thought, shivering when his hand landed on the small of her back as he took her to the stables.

  “How well o’ a rider are ye’?” He handed her a rein to a horse that wasn’t the one she’d claimed as her own. Saeran peaked inside the stables and saw the poor beast looking at her with betrayal in her big brown eyes. She turned back to the laird.

  “I’m proficient,” she lied, nervously patting the horse on the butt. He raised a brow.

  “Something tells me yer lying to me, lass.”

  She started to shake her head to deny him, but before she could speak, his hands were on her waist, her feet off the ground, and her breasts pressed against his chest.

  Time stood still.

  All she saw was the forest green flecks in his eyes, the animal he hid so well lurking behind them, waiting just at the edge of darkness. All she could smell was the woodsy, musky scent of him, and all she could hear was the beating of her own heart.

  Saeran wanted to lose herself in the moment, but all too soon, it was over. The spell broke and he tossed her onto the saddle, none too gently. She blinked, then cautiously righted herself, watching him from the corner of her eye.

  He mounted his horse with an elegance that stole her breath—well, what was left of it, anyway.

  “You know,” she said hesitantly, feeling compelled to talk to him, “I did not expect this when I agreed to your silly request.”

  “It’s silly, is it?” he grunted, giving her a side-look as he took her rein. He brought them to a gallop, cutting off all conversation. They rode over hills, through trees, and past her creek. The ride felt long and gruesome, though she knew only a couple minutes had passed. She didn’t take any joy in the ride until he let go of her reins, giving her horse a slap on its bum.

  She went flying.

  “How silly is that?” he shouted from behind her. The laughter in his voice only made her own bubble to the forefront, and soon, she was letting herself go. Her hair flew out behind her, her face tilted to the sun, and the horse became pure power and energy underneath her.

  She’d needed this, she thought vaguely, letting the sun warm her face. Fresh Highland air washed over and around her, cleansing her. She’d needed the freedom that came with open lands, with going as fast as one can go. She’d needed a break from the tyranny of her sister, and now that she had it, she was reluctant to let it go.

  But she had to. Kane rode in front of her just as they came to a section of the fence, bringing her horse to a gradual stop. She couldn’t stop the laughter that was bursting from her lips, especially when she saw the long strands of his hair and how tangled they were.

  “What are ye’ laughing at? That was meant to be a lesson. Ye’ donna insult the great laird,” he growled. The playful light in his eyes only made it worse.

  “Your hair,” she said, pointing to it. He came close to her, close enough that she could fix the mess. “It’s...it’s quite a mess.”

  He frowned at her. “Ye�
� should see yer own hair! ‘Tis transformed into a golden mess as well.” Saeran knew he was teasing her, but the comment made her sober. This was wrong. This should be Blaine, laughing and teasing and riding with him.

  Not Saeran.

  “My lady?”

  She looked at him and saw the concern in his eyes. He was worried he’d offended her, she thought, unable to stop herself from smiling. Only a few moments in his presence, and he was turning out to be much more than just The Lion. The man didn’t seem to be a complete barbarian, she thought. But there was still time for that to change.

  “How long are we going to be out here for?” she asked. The fence went on for as long as she could see.

  “No’ long,” he said after a moment. The laird turned away from her, swinging himself to the ground. The horse ambled off, but he paid it no mind. He knelt in front of the fence, checked the wiring and the post, and then straightened. “The MacLeods are always complaining about our lands being separated, and then they come around and ruin the fence when they see fit. I have to check it every once in a while.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said, frowning. “Why would you put up with that?”

  “Who says I donna?” He gave her a smirk from over his shoulder, moved to another section, then knelt.

  She paused, watching him. He appeared to be teasing, but something told her that he wasn’t. Kane Shaw might appear to be a laidback man to Alice, but underneath all of that, she saw him for what he was.

  A ruthless man.

  She knew it in her gut, could feel it with every sense she possessed. Watching him move, watching his muscles tense at the slightest sound and noticing the way his eyes scanned the area with trained precision showed her a man she had every right to be terrified.

  Yet she wasn’t.

  For Blaine, she told herself, looking at the ground and trying to find a way to get there without falling on her face. She was here with this man for Blaine, gauging his personality, how he reacted to things. Aye, all for Blaine.

  She continued to tell herself that when she awkwardly tried to adjust herself on the saddle. She’d never ridden one in a skirt before, nor has she had to get down from one with her legs constrained. Saeran muttered a small curse when her leg became caught.

 

‹ Prev