by LAURA HARNER
“You’ve been hurt. What happened?” Steering with one hand, she reached to get the map from the console, “Where’s the closest hospital? You can get out there!”
Faolan grabbed her, his hand a steel vice around her wrist. “I will heal. ‘tis not too serious. But tell me, lass, who is trying to kill you?”
“Kill me? No one is trying to kill me,” Elena said, hating that her voice shook with rage. “The only danger I’m in is from the lunatic who jumped into my car and kidnapped me.”
“As long as you drive where I tell you, you are in no danger from me,” Faolan said, but his eyes and his knife gave lie to his words.
With as few words as possible, he directed her out of Edinburgh and toward Inverness. Once on the main road, she watched while he used a clean shirt and rain from the lowered window to clean his hands and dress his wound. It looked as though the worst of the bleeding was over; in fact, he seemed to be healing remarkably quickly.
Elena had no idea where he was really taking her, but at least they were headed in the general direction she wanted to go. With a quick mental inventory, she realized she wasn’t particularly afraid. No sweating palms, no racing pulse. In a weird way, the fact that she wasn’t cowering behind the wheel was comforting. She didn’t know why he’d kidnapped her or what he hoped to gain, but she was somehow confident he wouldn’t hurt her. It was something in the way he looked at her, as though he knew her already.
As she thought over the circumstances, she realized her options were limited. She certainly wasn’t going to overpower or outrun him. They’d seemed to get on well enough on the plane, maybe she could convince him to let her go. If she could just be nice enough, get him talking about himself, she might learn something to use as leverage.
“Why the hell are you doing this? You barged your way onto the plane and now into my car. What do you want?” Then Elena sighed. So much for being nice. Her brain-to-mouth syndrome was in overdrive.
Faolan inhaled sharply but continued his stony silence.
She knew she’d better try that bonding conversation again, so Elena searched for a safer topic. Deciding that talking about the weather was too mundane, she pelted him with questions. His taciturn responses did nothing to curb her growing enthusiasm for the landscape. After a while, she’d nearly forgotten the precariousness of her situation.
Faolan finally said, “Och, lass, do you never be still? Enough with your constant havering!”
“Fine I won’t say another word,” Elena said. She maintained a ridiculous sort of silence, starting and stopping herself from speaking countless times.
After several minutes, it seemed Faolan had enough of her version of quiet. “What is the real reason you came to Scotland, Elena MacFarland?” he said, his voice a throaty growl.
Elena hesitated, but realized he might have more sympathy for her if she told him something. “It’s not a story I usually share,” she haltingly began. “My mother was killed crossing the street when I was four, so I went to live with my Grandda MacFarland. I was thirteen when he died, and we didn’t have anyone else. There was no chance of adoption as a teenager. Everyone wants the babies. Instead, I bounced between foster homes, moving every few months until I was old enough to live on my own.”
There was a long pause while he appeared to think over what she’d told him. Then he thrust directly at the heart of things, “You still didna answer my question. Why are you here? Why are you not in Phoenix practicing law?”
“I didn’t tell you I was from Phoenix. I said Arizona,” Elena said sharply.
“Och, lass, doona’ be so prickly. I merely said Phoenix because ‘tis the only city I know in Arizona. Why not answer my question? Why would you move to Scotia?”
Scotia, he’d said, just like her Grandda. Elena’s eyes misted, and her throat tightened. “It’s a long story,” she said tensely. That really was something she didn’t plan to share with anyone. Over was over.
“Why not tell me why you’re here?” he asked gently, as though he cared. “We still have a ways yet to go together.”
****
Elena opened her door to the last person she expected to see on a Saturday morning: her boss and future father-in-law. Mr. Martin J. Worthington, III. If Marty was gold on sunshine, his father was silver on ice. He brushed past her and went straight to the dining room to set his briefcase on the table. He turned to look at her, disapproval for the casual way she was dressed was all over his face.
“I wish to offer my congratulations on your successful passing of the bar exam.” He handed her a thick envelope that had clearly already been opened.
Her thoughts were whirling, but she kept her head down and quickly scanned the letter. She mentally skipped the happy dance, wondering at the real purpose of his visit.
Worthington reached into his briefcase and removed a sheaf of papers with a light blue outer cover. He examined Elena’s face before referring to the document in his hand. “Martin J. Worthington, IV, declares he no longer wishes to maintain any relationship with you. As of today’s date, he dissolves any formal or informal agreement with Elena MacFarland, to be engaged to be married, to wed, or to be considered as partners in any form of the word. You are to cease and desist any attempt to contact Martin J. Worthington, IV, any of his family members, or acquaintances. He thanks you for all of the assistance you provided in helping him to accomplish his goal of becoming an attorney. He hopes that the relationship was mutually beneficial and reminds you that you were allowed to live rent free and of the clothes and jewelry that you received.”
She felt the slow burn of humiliation as it crept up from the center of her being. There was no doubt in her mind that Marty’s father was telling the truth. Like father, like son, the arrogant bastards. She was surprised to realize she was relieved to have the fairy tale over. That didn’t mean she was going to make it painless for either of them. To hurt a Worthington, you just needed to know what was most important and take it away.
Money!
“I see. Thank you, Martin, for making Marty’s position perfectly clear. I wonder if you would speak as to your position in all of this,” Elena said coolly.
Martin glanced up at her, then deliberately dropped his eyes to her bare feet and raked them slowly up her body. His steely gaze lingering on her breasts, he asked, “What did you have in mind Ms. MacFarland?”
“Oh dear, Martin. You seemed to have misunderstood my question.” Elena smiled, a feral cat on the hunt. “I am under contract for the next two years with Worthington, Tyler, and Walters. Aren’t you concerned with any awkwardness in the office?”
“You dare presume, Ms. MacFarland, that you are still employed?” Worthington gave a delicate snort, “Allow me to present you with an order of eviction and a restraining order preventing you from contacting my son, any member of our family, or any member of the law firm ever again. If you have any personal belongings at the office, you may call my assistant to have them delivered to your new place of residence. You have one week to vacate these premises, and I no longer expect to see you anywhere, especially not in the office.”
With that, he handed her the documents, closed his case, and prepared to leave.
“That’s an interesting opening argument, Martin. Let’s think this through a minute, shall we? I have a perfectly valid contract, which guarantees my employment for a period of two years, providing I successfully pass the bar, which I did.
“I work for the firm, not for you personally, and the policies of the firm, as well as all Equal Opportunity laws apply to my situation. This leaves me entitled to my full two years of pay, plus the signing bonuses.
“I believe a case could be made that I provided certain services to Marty in the form of tutoring and study aids, which were necessary to help him become an attorney. Marty offered me this townhouse as partial compensation for my work as his tutor. He obviously passed the bar or you wouldn’t be here; therefore, I expect to receive the deed.” She took the sheaf of legal documents
and threw them on the table.
“Although you have far more legal resources at your disposal, I have right on my side. I won’t go quietly. Marty’s academic records will become public as will your role in this unpleasant situation. I will subpoena every person at every event I attended with Marty, every client, and every opposing counsel with whom I have come into contact while working for the firm.
“Make no mistake, Martin. This will not merely be a personal disagreement between us. I will seek compensation from Marty, from you, and from the firm for breach of contract, pain and suffering, and defamation of character. Perhaps you should speak with your partners before we proceed any further with our negotiations.”
For one long minute, Martin and Elena stared at each other, then a slow smile formed on his lips but never reached his cold eyes.
“Name your terms, Miss MacFarland.”
****
Elena was physically exhausted from the travel and emotionally drained from the humiliation of her story. After talking for what seemed like hours, she’d certainly told Faolan enough to make a personal connection. Would that be enough for him to let her go? Elena kept her eyes on the road, but she sensed his gaze on her. They didn’t speak again except for his terse directions once they arrived in Inverness.
Elena tried to sort through her muddled thoughts. Somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten to think of him as a kidnapper. After all, he now knew more about her than anyone else in Scotland. More than anyone, anywhere, really. When she saw the Hilton right in front of them, she realized he’d seen her safely to her destination. She pulled to the curb, but Faolan stared into the rain, his expression unfathomable.
She watched her traitorous hand as it reached up to gently touch his face, “Are you okay?” The moment Elena touched his face, a bolt of electricity shot up her arm and coursed through her body, straight to her core. Her breath caught in her throat, and her gaze lingered on his firm, luscious lips. If he kissed her she knew she’d be lost forever. At that thought, Elena’s lips parted and she unconsciously wet them with the tip of her tongue, an invitation as old as the ages.
Faolan turned to face her, a fierce, haunted look in his eyes. Then his expression changed to something hungrier and need seemed to smolder between them. “Elena,” he whispered hoarsely. Then his mouth was on hers, and she thought no more.
His kiss was gentle. He reached to cup her face in both of his hands, caressing her cheek with his thumbs. Her mouth parted on an exclamation of surprise, and his tongue darted past her lips as he deepened the kiss. Faolan loosened her hair, and her raven curls spilled down her back. Threading his fingers through the silken strands, his kiss turned urgent as he pulled her even closer, and the console pressed into her side.
He kissed her with such suddenness that her brain was ten steps behind her body. His tongue thrust in, then retreated, gliding in an intimate rhythm. Elena leaned toward Faolan, getting as close as possible to his broad, warm chest and moaned softly into his mouth. Her fingers splayed across his stomach, and she slid her hands over his powerful muscles that rippled under her touch.
Elena’s body sparked to life, heedless of the circumstances that brought them together. A reckless abandon fueled her kisses. She laced her fingers behind his neck and pulled him closer. He groaned, and Elena felt the heady power of a woman who knows she’s desired. She was being devoured and had no will to stop him. His kisses claimed her, and she wanted him to keep kissing her until her last breath.
Breathing heavily, he pulled back slightly and nibbled on Elena’s lower lip before running kisses along her jaw to her neck. With his face buried in her hair, he whispered her name once more, “Elena.”
Then he pulled away from the embrace, opened the door, and walked away without a backward glance. Faolan disappeared into the mist as though he were nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
Chapter Three
When Elena had presented her counteroffer to Martin Worthington, III, she’d expected to get half of what she asked for. However, since Martin wanted her gone from Phoenix more than he cared about the money, Elena had a bigger bargaining chip than she’d realized. In their final agreement, she’d received five years’ worth of salary plus the performance bonuses. It turned out that the townhouse had actually belonged to the firm, not Worthington, so it couldn’t be part of the settlement. In an effort to end the unpleasant situation quickly, Martin had offered a small bungalow on a hundred acres of land in Scotland as an alternative.
Moving to Scotland had seemed like a big step until she realized she’d been the only one really surprised Marty was just using her to get his license. When Martin sweetened the pot by offering to pay off her student loans, Elena decided leaving Phoenix for a while was a good idea. An isolated farm in the land of Grandda seemed a great place to escape her embarrassment.
As promised, the house had three bedrooms, fireplaces, and oak floors throughout. Unfortunately, the house looked long abandoned, and there was no way to tell what damage lay hidden under the years of dirt. Elena’s solicitor, the ancient and frail Mr. Burns, dryly informed Elena of her right to refuse the settlement. The house was clearly not in the condition advertised by Worthington.
Her solicitor’s advice notwithstanding, she wanted nothing more than to have this final connection to the Worthington family over. Elena signed the documents with a flourish. Mr. Burns would continue as her accounts manager and promised he would send a handyman for repairs. Less than an hour after arriving, the farm provisionally belonged to Elena MacFarland. She need only complete the six-month waiting period as stipulated in the agreement and the house was hers.
Once alone, Elena surveyed her first home with a mixture of pride and purpose. Surrounded by frozen grass and patches of snow, Elena turned slowly around, letting the atmosphere of the old farm wash over her. The farmhouse was nestled into gently rolling snow-covered hills and canopied by a sky so blue it made her throat tight with the beauty of her.
Her house was over three hundred years old, made of stone, and retrofitted somewhere along the way with large picture windows on all sides. There was a barn-like structure that was listed in the particulars as a ‘steading.’ Similar to a large modern horse barn, the outbuilding was U-shaped and opened into a fenced paddock. The south side of the steading was two floors tall, probably to accommodate storing hay, Elena thought. The north end butted up against a hillock, and looked as if it disappeared into the land.
After a quick inventory, Elena drove back to Inverness to get the items most necessary to her survival. She couldn’t imagine staying another night at a hotel. This place already felt like home, even if it meant roughing it for a while.
****
Elena tackled the master bedroom first. The windows faced the east and had an expansive view that stretched for miles. Perhaps in the spring and summer it would include a stream or loch, but for now, large patches of snow blanketed enough of the landscape to leave her wondering. She built a roaring fire and began to clean.
By bedtime, the rest of the house was still cold and dark, but Elena’s room was cozy, warm, and mostly clean. She looked around with satisfaction. Her back might ache from the hours spent scrubbing, dusting, and sweeping, but now she’d reclaimed the space from decades of neglect. A warm glow built in her chest as she imagined a new bed, a dresser, maybe even a rocking chair to place by the hearth. She marveled at how far she’d come to get here. She was in Scotland; she was home.
She stepped outside into a spectacular night. Her breath frosted on the air. Stars dominated the heavy black velvet sky, but Elena knew they would soon cede their supremacy to the rising moon. As she stood, surrounded by darkness and a silence so complete it pressed against her ears, she watched a wolf cross a field in the distance. When a howl echoed over the land, Elena wondered if the wolf was lonely. She realized that she had been lonely for much of her life. Now she was alone in the truest sense of the word, in a new country, in a completely new life.
She had never felt more at peace.
****
“How do you do? Mr. Burns sent us. Said you could use some help out here. I’m Lilly, and this is my husband, Red,” said the short, soft-looking woman with white curly hair. She looked like Elena’s idea of a real mother, full of hugs and laughter, spun sugar with a steel core. Elena suspected summer followed her wherever she went.
Red was tall, lean, with a ruddy complexion and, appropriately enough, a full head of red hair that faded to gray around the temples. He wore denim and flannel and heavy work boots. With his easy smile and gentle manner, he reminded Elena of the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz.
Elena invited them into the recently cleaned kitchen, and they looked around with interest.
“Aye, looks as though you have your hands busy. We’d like to help, if you’ve a mind to hire both of us,” Lilly said. They suggested a reasonable salary and were happy to start right away. With her settlement from Worthington filling her bank account, she was happy to accept the terms and get the business of renovation underway.
Elena left them to work in the house while she went to explore the steading. Beginning on the south side, she discovered a workshop and a garage-type storage area. Although Elena longed to build her own garden, the thought of using even a small tractor was intimidating. The rest of the space contained an assortment of tools, sawhorses, and feed.
The main part of the barn was set up with stalls, each with a two-part stable door that opened into the fenced paddock. As she continued through to the north side, she noticed it was definitely warmer than the other two sections. This wing was also deeper and darker than the others were. When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her jaw dropped as she saw the jumble of contents.
Elena had shopped in second-hand stores all her life; there had simply been no money to shop elsewhere. She loved the challenge of the hunt and the excitement when she unearthed a treasure that had been someone else’s trash. The day had just turned into Christmas and her birthday all rolled into one. The entire back part of the wing was one giant rummage sale, and everything was free.