My Seductive Highlander

by Maeve Greyson

  “Animals know.” Graham scooped up the little dog and cradled him in one arm. Odin ambled forward with a grumbling nicker then shoved his velvety black nose between Buzz and Graham’s chest. “Poor beast. Ne’er fear.” Graham understood Odin’s uneasiness. “I’ll no’ hurt yer wee friend. Ye can be sure of that, I grant ye.”

  Odin jutted his nose up under Graham’s chin and gently shoved as though testing to see if the man could be trusted. Cautiously, Graham lowered Buzz to the ground then slowly straightened. He lifted his right arm out to his side, palm up. Best let the lad see his hand preparing to touch him. Let the beast know him to be safe.

  Odin stepped forward, tilting his head so he might better see Graham, then tossed his head toward Graham’s hand.

  “Aye, lad.” Graham gently rubbed the horse’s muscular neck. “Ken me as a friend. I’ll ne’er bring ye pain, I swear it.”

  Odin responded with a more relaxed whicker as he leaned in to Graham’s touch.

  A sharp, hiccuping intake of breath pulled his attention away from the horse. Graham turned toward the sound. “Lilia?”

  Lilia turned away, ducking her head as she furiously raked the back of one hand across her eyes.

  Graham closed the short distance between them and turned Lilia around to face him. “Do ye cry?” The lass had ne’er given way to tears. What the hell had he done?

  Lilia’s pale brows arched higher and her eyes widened. The dark green of her irises shimmered brighter than fresh spring grass beneath the sheen of her unshed tears. She sniffed and blinked hard and fast, refusing to meet his gaze. “I’m not crying. I never cry. Not ever.” The quiver in her voice betrayed her. “I was merely touched because Odin and Buzz trust you.”

  “Aye, and now ye ken ye should be able to trust me too. Why d’ye find that so difficult to accept?” Graham gently cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “I only wish to keep ye safe.” He didna add that he would be makin’ her his—not just yet. He must move cautiously even though he had little time. Instead, he brushed his mouth across the warm velvety seam of her lips, breathing in her irresistible sweetness as he whispered, “There is no shame in sharin’ yer tears. I have strength enough for the both of us.”

  His gut wrenched as Lilia pushed away. Sonofabitch. ’Twas the wrong thing ta say. Graham pulled her back into his arms, holding her so tight, her head tilted back of its own volition. “Yer a strong woman, Lilia Sinclair. Tears take nothin’ from that strength.” Easing his hold, he cradled her head in one hand while softly stroking her face with the other. “Me mam, right afore she died, when I was but a wee lad…” Graham paused, struggling to sort through the myriad of emotions he saw playing in Lilia’s eyes.

  Help me find the words, he prayed. His mother had been so wise—surely her words would bring Lilia peace. Help me, he silently pleaded, then thanked the gods and his mother’s memory when he felt Lilia gradually relax in his embrace. Certainty filled him as the rest of his mother’s words came to him: “Me mam said tears are no’ a sign of weakness. Not ever. They are but the soul’s way of growing and healing.”

  Lilia eased back but didn’t pull completely out of Graham’s hold and he was sorely glad for it. But her unshed tears had disappeared. His lovely lass had quickly restored her calm mask of control.

  “Why are you here?” Her chin lifted as she stirred in his embrace. “And I want to know the truth this time. Why did Granny really send you here?”

  “Come, come,” Alberti interrupted from the end of the line of stalls. “We’re losing the day and still need to practice your running jump with Odin.”

  Lilia spun out of Graham’s arms, then paused and turned back to face him. “This conversation is not over. I expect an answer later.” She hefted the saddle off the low railing and clumped up a three-stepped stile leaning against the fence. “Come on, Odin. Playtime.”

  Odin flicked an ear then ambled over alongside the fence and patiently waited for Lilia to put the padding and saddle across his back. Buzz yapped around the base of the steps, bouncing and leaping around like a spring-loaded ball of fur. “I’ll put you in your pouch in a minute. You know you have to wait until I get all the straps tightened down.” Lilia gently pushed the little dog back as she descended the steps and deftly adjusted and tightened the saddle’s straps.

  Graham was impressed. Lilia’s sisters might not have known anything of a horse other than which end ate and which end shit, but it was obvious Lilia was as comfortable with the beasts as he was. Perhaps there was hope of returning to the past and taking Lilia with him after all. Graham shoved the thought away. I must bide my time. I must not push her. And he suddenly realized, as long as he was with Lilia, he didna truly care what year it was.

  “What horse shall I ride?” He’d be damned if he’d stand by and watch Lilia and the others enjoy a good ride without him.

  “Alberti should have Freya ready for you.” Lilia bent, scooped up Buzz, then fitted him in a custom-made leather pouch strapped across the broad slope of Odin’s right shoulder. The little dog crossed his front paws atop the rolled lip of the thick leather bag, his little face split wide open in an excited doggy grin.

  Graham rubbed Buzz’s tiny pointed ears as he examined the odd-looking pouch that snugly held the tiny dog against the horse’s side. “Why do ye no’ allow the wee lad ta just run along beside ye?”

  Lilia pulled herself up into the saddle and settled comfortably in place. “He’s too little and doesn’t pay attention. I’m afraid he’ll get stepped on.” She reached down and hooked two short straps to the back of Buzz’s harness. “I have to attach these straps to his harness because the little turd sometimes tries to jump out.” Lilia shook her head and double-checked the silver clips. “Odin’s an eighteen-hand horse. If Buzz jumps, it’s a long way to the ground but Sir Yaps-a-Lot is fearless.”

  “Freya’s ready for you.” Alberti waved Graham forward.

  A gray, slightly smaller horse, but definitely the same large breed as Odin, tossed its head in Graham’s direction.

  Odin stepped sideways, danced a few paces forward then retreated back. His nervous whickering echoed through the paddock.

  “Odin’s too restless today to practice the jump.” Lilia smoothed the reins between her hands and nodded toward the far end of the building where a set of double doors opened out onto a pasture. “We might’ve practiced too long the day before. I think he just needs a good stretch of his legs today.”

  Alberti studied the great black horse. “Agreed. Perhaps we did push a little hard.” He motioned across the building to Vivienne and Angus. “We’ll head back to the center and double-check the gear for the competition while you take Odin out for a bit of exercise. We can all meet at the paintball arena afterward. Agreed?” He glanced up at Graham, already comfortably settled in the saddle atop Freya. “I assume you’ll be going with her?”

  “Aye.” Graham sat a bit taller in the saddle. “That I will.” And if he had his way about it, ’twould be a long, slow ride of discovery for both Lilia and himself. Aye and fer sure. This ride holds infinite possibilities.

  Chapter 13

  The slow steady thump of hooves against hard-packed earth broke the peaceful stillness of the afternoon ride. The well-oiled leather of the saddles softly squeaked, echoing the horses’ meandering gait and the rhythmic motion of their powerful bodies.

  Lilia pulled in a deep breath as they left the noise of the bustling city behind. She rolled her shoulders, relaxing as they steadily climbed higher, closer to the highest peak overlooking Edinburgh, known as Arthur’s Seat. From a distance, the hillside looked as though it was coated in green and brown velvety moss. The closer they drew to the sharp definitions of the craggy hill, the more pronounced and varied the colorful tapestry of the flora became.

  “Yer spirit finds peace here.” Graham gifted her with a soft smile, nearly hidden by his moustache but clearly sparkling in his eyes.

  Lilia found it mildly disturbing that Graham coul
d read her so easily, but with Eliza’s sharply declining health, it had been a rough few weeks. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to relax her shields a bit and just be. She was weary—damn tired of running ninety to nothing until she collapsed in bed at night just to keep from feeling. She barely nodded. “Yes. Rides like this restore me.” She turned toward Graham and allowed a genuine smile, an expression totally free of carefully masked emotions. “What about you? How are you handling your discovery of the ways and whys of the twenty-first century?”

  One of Graham’s burly brows arched a bit higher as his head tilted to one side. “ ’Tis…different.”

  A snort escaped her. “I bet.” There was no possible way Granny and Trulie could’ve prepared Graham for all the mysteries of the future.

  “But different isna necessarily bad.” He shrugged and affirmed his words with a subtle nod. “ ’Tis what I seek after being trapped within sameness for well over three hundred years.” Graham shifted in the saddle, encouraging Freya to slow her pace even more.

  “Wait—what did you just say?” Lilia gently pulled Odin to a stop. Surely she’d misunderstood. Three hundred freaking years?

  Graham shrugged again, squinting wistfully up at the bright blue sky combed with wispy strands of faded white clouds. “Did yer grandmother no’ tell ye about me when yer sister, Mairi, married Ronan Sutherland?”

  Recollection rolled across her, triggering goose bumps across her flesh. The witch’s curse. The Fates’ evil priestess’s fit of jealousy and the wicked spell she’d cast, trapping Ronan’s mother into the form of a wolf when the poor woman had been pregnant with Ronan. Then he’d been born a wolf too, living like one of the wild animals until he’d reached the age of puberty and learned he could shift into human form. Both Ronan and his mother had also been protected by a dragon.

  Lilia frowned, struggling to remember all the details. No. Not just some magically conjured dragon but another cursed soul who changed back to a man by night and was trapped in the form of a dragon by day. Another victim who’d unknowingly angered the sorceress while she was being drowned for practicing witchery. It had taken Ronan over three hundred years to find the woman capable of breaking the curse to make him mortal again. Her twin sister, Mairi, had been that woman.

  Lilia pointed the loop of her reins at Graham. “So…you’re the dragon?”

  Graham shook his head and leaned toward her just a bit. “Was the dragon.” He thumped a fist against his chest and smiled. “As ye can see, I am the dragon no more.” His smile widened and he winked. “And now that the curse is broken, like yer good brother Ronan, I’m no longer cursed with immortality.” He sat a bit taller in the saddle and his carefree expression faded, growing thoughtful and almost sad. “Livin’ forever can be a terrible thing—a sad, lonely thing that I’m glad t’be done with.”

  Holy crap. Lilia shook her head and urged Odin to resume their ride. There was something about the look in Graham’s eyes that unsettled her—something he wasn’t saying…for fear of…what? What was he not sharing and why?

  Lilia twisted in the saddle and looked back at Graham again. “Just how old are you and what did you mean when you said you’d been trapped in sameness? If you lived over three hundred years, you had to witness everything changing around you.”

  Graham scowled back up at the sky, his eyes narrowing as he scrubbed his fingertips just under his bearded jawline. “I dinna ken exactly how old I am fer certain. I was but a young man when the witch cursed me—barely past my twenty-third summer. And even though the spell allowed my human form to age a wee bit over the years, the length of the curse didna send me to the decaying weakness of the grave as it did Ronan’s mother.”

  “What? Wait.” Lilia motioned toward an inviting swell in the hillside just a few feet off the path. “Let’s go over there and sit down. Buzz can stretch his short little legs and the horses can enjoy the breeze coming down the hillside while you explain yourself—in better detail.”

  Mairi and Granny had barely mentioned any particulars about Graham in his dragon form and neither had wished to dwell on all that had happened at the exact moment the curse had been broken. Lilia hadn’t pushed them. They didn’t need to describe it to her. She’d felt the exhilarating highs and the painful lows of that day through them—as though she’d been there and witnessed the event herself. Whatever had happened that day had created emotions strong enough that the feelings had easily crossed through the fire portal and hit her like a tidal wave.

  Lilia pointed a warning finger at Graham. “And don’t leave anything out.”

  “Aye, lass. As ye wish.” Graham easily dismounted then held up his hands to Lilia. “Come ta me. Ye’ve no wee steps to help ye down from mighty Odin’s back.”

  There were those three words again. Come ta me. How could three innocent words trigger such a deliciously hot shiver and amp her up to hell yeah mode in the blink of an eye? Lilia clasped her hands atop the saddle horn and shifted the slightest bit. The warm leather between her legs suddenly seemed a bit damp.

  Graham’s moustache barely twitched and a knowing look glinted in his eyes as he held up his hands, fingers spread wide, waiting for Lilia to lean down into his arms.

  “I know what you’re doing.” Lilia dove into his grasp then quickly slid to the ground and scooted free before Graham could pull her close.

  “Do ye now?” Graham’s slow wink shifted her heart rate another notch higher.

  Lilia brushed past Graham, looped Odin’s reins around one hand and led the horse to the rolling curve of softly waving grasses just behind the moss-covered swell of earth facing the panoramic view of the city below. She settled Buzz down on the grass beside the horse then plopped down on the knob of land and patted the ground beside her. “Have a seat and finish explaining your history.”

  An infuriating smile brightened Graham’s face as he led Freya over to join Odin. “There’s no’ that much to explain. I was dragon by day, man by night. Ronan’s mentor and guardian. I dinna ken fer sure but I’m fairly certain he and I didna age as severely as his mother because we wished to live past the curse—regain the lives that we’d been promised if the wicked spell was e’er broken. Ye might say our stubbornness added to our longevity.”

  All humor left his expression as he continued, “Ronan’s mother, Iona, her deepest wish was to join the only man she’d ever loved—and that man, Ronan’s father, died by the witch’s prophecy a year after the black-hearted wench spoke the words that cursed us all.”

  He settled down on the hillside beside her. A sad smile curved his mouth as he stared down at the long blade of grass he’d plucked from a tangled clump and slowly wound between his fingers. “Never let anyone tell ye immortality is a blessing. Outliving all ye’ve ever loved or known is a cursed, lonely existence—and bein’ tethered to a mist-covered stretch of land or the sea makes that loneliness all the sharper.” Graham’s gaze gradually lifted from his hands. He stared out across the land and pulled in a slow deep breath. “All feared the dragon in me and kept their distance over the centuries. All but Ronan and his mother. ’Tis a terrible thing passin’ yer days with no’ a companion or heartmate to care if ye live or die.”

  Lilia hugged herself against Graham’s words. Whether it was his sadness or hers, or an aching combination of both of their emotions eating away at her, she didn’t know. All she knew for certain was, the twisted knot of feelings made the center of her chest hurt. She understood completely how he felt. She’d always felt…alone…even when living with Granny and her sisters. She supposed it was because she’d always had to keep herself centered and walled off against the emotions of the world. Granny had taught her that was the only way to survive life as a highly tuned empath. And now…with Eliza, the only person in this century who really understood her about to die…she’d be completely alone.

  Alberti and Vivienne had tried their best to convince her they’d fill the void after Eliza’s passing but Lilia knew better. Everyone had their own lives to le
ad, including her caring friends. Someday, they’d move on. The Fates had painfully made her see it, shown her each of her friends’ promising futures in a vision. The paths of her life and those of her friends would eventually split off in their respective directions.

  She reached over and barely ran a fingertip down Graham’s forearm that was resting atop his muscular thigh. His light dusting of silver through the dark hair shadowing the hard cut ridges and veins of his bulging muscles made him shimmer in the sunlight. Such strength pulsed beneath that subtle sheen of pale silver and gold. His confession of solitude’s painfulness drew her to him like the moon eternally draws the tide. He understood the gist of her feelings. Completely.

  “I know what loneliness is,” she said. “I’ve had to keep everyone away to survive.” A bitter laugh escaped her, then she quickly shrugged away the uncomfortably private confession. “Once Eliza moves on and Alberti and Vivienne embrace their fates, I could ‘go softly into the night’ and not a soul on this side of the time portal would even notice my light was gone.”

  Graham turned toward her, slid a finger beneath her chin, and gently lifted, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’ll no’ listen to such,” he said.

  He moved in closer, pulling her near and preventing her from turning away. “Yer precious light burns bright and strong against the darkness of this world. I grant ye, if that light was extinguished, ’twould be sorely missed.”

  He leaned in then, until his warm lips brushed her mouth, the softness of his moustache feather-light across her skin. Lilia breathed in the heat of him, a heart-pounding shiver racing through her as his deep voice lowered to a rasping whisper. “I shall see to the tendin’ of yer light.” He took her hand and pressed her palm to the center of his chest and held it there. “I’ll thank ye to see to the tendin’ of m’heart.”

  “Why…” She paused, wetting her mouth as she watched the hypnotic motion of the tip of his tongue sliding back and forth across his bottom lip. “Why are you here?” Lilia curled her fingers into the neck of his T-shirt, pulling him closer even though she knew the risk. She should push him away. So much safer if I just push him away. She blinked away the annoying voice of reason and rubbed the back of her fingers against the tempting heat of his skin. “Why are you here?” she repeated, unable to resist leaning in to steal a nipping taste of his wetted and primed lips.