The Highlander Who Loved Me

by Tara Kingston

  “Such big words for a wee lass,” Connor said. “Ye’re a clever girl, aren’t ye?”

  “Why yes, I do believe I am.”

  He shot Johanna a glance. “Like yer aunt.”

  “Of course.” Laurel’s smile broadened.

  “But tonight is special for another reason.” He crouched low, eye to eye with Laurel. “Ye see, today is my birthday.”

  “How very exciting!” Laurel gushed. “We must celebrate.”

  “Aye, lass. I intend this to be a celebration for all of us. And I’ve set my sights on the best present of all.”

  “Will you tell me?” she asked.

  His smile did not dim, but he slowly shook his head. “Not yet. ’Tis a surprise.”

  “A surprise?” Laurel’s curiosity had been piqued.

  Johanna’s stomach did a little flip. She shot Serena a searching glance. His sister’s features revealed nothing, aside from sly amusement.

  “A fine surprise, indeed.” Connor caught Johanna’s elbow in his large, strong hand. His heat seared through the cool silk of her gown.

  He ushered them inside. The maitre d’ hurried to meet them, treating Connor as a highly regarded guest. Once they’d reached their table, Connor glanced toward Laurel. She sat wide-eyed with excitement, taking in the elegance of the Savoy and its patrons with unbridled enthusiasm. The sight seemed to please him, and his smile slipped into a warm grin.

  His gaze settled on Johanna. Suddenly, she felt aware of the heat in his forest green eyes. Her heartbeat raced. Just as her breath caught, he flicked his attention back to Laurel.

  “I’d like to trouble ye for a favor, lass.”

  “A favor?” Laurel’s nose wrinkled, betraying she found the request as unexpected as Johanna did.

  “Aye. Ye might consider it a present.” He flashed another grin, cheeky and bold. “I’d like a word with yer aunt, for her ears only. Will ye stay here and keep my sister out of trouble?”

  Laurel’s forehead puckered into a little bridge. “What sort of trouble?”

  Serena shot him a glare. “He’s being a silly goose.” She offered Laurel a conspirator’s smile. “Let’s have some fun, shall we? I’m looking to spot the hat with the largest, most outrageous feather, an utterly ridiculous plume. I’ll wager I find it before ye do.”

  A grin lit Laurel’s features as she pointed in the direction of an enormous white flounce topping a matron’s magenta hat. “That feather is bigger than her head. You won’t find a larger one.”

  “Ah, I do love a challenge.” Serena nudged her brother with her finger. “Off with ye both now. The lass and I are having a grand time, aren’t we now?”

  Laurel nodded, still smiling as she scanned the large room.

  Connor turned to Johanna. “Well, lass, may I have a moment of yer time?” Odd, how the cockiness seemed to have been stripped from his subtle burr.

  “Laurel will be fine,” Serena encouraged Johanna. “We’ve many more feathers to spot.”

  In truth, Johanna felt no reluctance to leave the girl in the Scotswoman’s care. Rather, she guarded herself against her own traitorous heart’s response to the brash Highlander. “I must admit you’ve stirred my curiosity. I can only hope there’s not another adventure in the works.”

  “An adventure it just might be.” A teasing lilt colored Serena’s tone. “Ye cannae deny a man on his birthday now, can ye, Johanna?”

  “No, of course not.” Johanna forced out the words.

  His fingers lightly grazed her arm. As they left the table, he drew her close. Scandalously so.

  “Oh, how the tongues will wag,” she said with a forced nonchalance.

  “By tomorrow night, London will be naught but a memory. Ye’ve no worries of scandal.”

  “Still…gossip can cross the ocean with remarkable speed. Of that, I assure you.”

  “Why does that concern ye?” He led her to an alcove near the courtyard. “Is it for yer sake, or the girl’s?”

  “Both, I suppose.” She glanced about. He’d selected a location secluded from prying eyes and ears. Perhaps she hadn’t learned much from their previous encounters. Or perhaps, she truly didn’t want to consider anything beyond the yearnings of her heart.

  “I’ve missed ye, Johanna.” He cradled her cheek against one broad palm. “More than ye know.”

  Blast it all, she wasn’t about to be swept up into his seduction. Did he think he’d help himself to a final taste of her passion before she sailed away?

  She gave an exaggerated huff. “Given there has been no correspondence of any sort between us, that revelation is indeed surprising.”

  “I’ve no talent for sweet sentiments and poetic gibberish.” He drew the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. Dear Lord, how the simple touch rippled through her.

  “That is readily apparent. Perhaps you might tell me something I don’t already know.”

  One dark brow crooked. “And what might that be?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I had to see ye, Johanna. I’ve missed the sight of ye. The feel of ye.” Once again, he brushed his thumb over her mouth. His eyes glimmered dangerously. “Even the smell of yer hair…is embedded in my memory.”

  Her mouth went dry, and she struggled to find words. If only he’d stop looking at her like that. Like he desired her. Right there and then.

  “Even if I wanted you…there’s no point.” She swallowed hard against the bitterness of the words. “Not now.”

  To her surprise, arrogance danced in his eyes. “There’s no if to it. Ye do want me. Ye cannae deny the truth.”

  Damn the man, strutting into London like a rooster out to conquer the last hen in the coop.

  “I left you behind in Scotland. That’s proof enough of my ability to resist your…charms…for lack of a better word.”

  “I should’ve made ye stay.”

  His words were blunt and so utterly unexpected, Johanna’s knees went to jelly. She dragged in a breath to steady herself and slowly released it. “It’s all rather pointless now. After tonight, an ocean will separate us.” She swallowed against the sudden burn in the back of her throat. “You never even said farewell.”

  “That is a fact, Johanna. I’ve no intention of saying farewell. I’ve no intention of seeing ye leave me again.”

  “In that case, you will be disappointed.” My, how the words burned on her tongue. “Your timing is rather poor. I’ve already made arrangements.”

  “I am well aware of your arrangements. Why do ye think I am here today?”

  Johanna turned toward the door, but he barred it with his sturdy arm. She hiked her chin in defiance. If he thought to control her, he’d discover he was quite mistaken. If only the fire in his eyes did not threaten to melt her defenses. “So, it seems I’ve been taken in by a ruse. Not a very clever one, at that.”

  “A ruse?” He seemed genuinely perplexed.

  “The visit from Serena. Her request for assistance… I suppose that was merely an act.”

  “Nay, my sister has every intention of sailing across the Atlantic. I’d be grateful if ye would take her under yer wing. The lass possesses a head full of facts, knowledge of chemicals and sleuthing and ancient texts, none of which has prepared her for what lies ahead in the city—much less a city in blasted America.”

  “How did you know I would be here?”

  Arrogance lit his smiling eyes. “I have contacts in many places. Ye should know that by now. London is teeming with them. Some are MacMasters’ clan. Others have earned our trust.”

  “But why? Why do you care if I leave?” She gulped against the blasted lump in her throat. “Even if we had one more night together…”

  He gathered her in his arms. The brush of his lips over her forehead was tender and passionate and sweet. “If I have my way, we’ll spend a lifetime of nights together.”

  “A lifetime?” She pressed her palms to his chest, creating a whisper of space between their bodies, forcing herself to think with he
r head and not her heart.

  “I want ye with me for the rest of my days, Johanna.”

  “This is so very sudden.” And oh, so very wonderful. Save for the truth that pierced her soul.

  His earnest plea touched her heart. But he’d not mentioned love. Only want. That wasn’t enough. She needed more than passionate nights. She needed a man who’d crave the feel of her at his side when she was old and wrinkled and her bones creaked like Marley’s ghost rattling its chains.

  Doubt pierced her, a throbbing misery deep in her soul. How desperately she wanted him. But how could she surrender her heart to him? She’d known him for such a very short time, in a time of great danger and even greater emotion. How could she trust Connor with that most vulnerable part of her? If he betrayed her, the tattered remnants of her heart might never mend.

  And what of Laurel? She couldn’t keep the child from the family who loved her. And the merest thought of leaving the girl behind in America while she returned to the Highlands with Connor tore at her like a thousand tiny daggers.

  Connor wanted her. But that wasn’t enough. And it never would be.

  “This is all so very unexpected,” she said, little more than an anguished whisper.

  “Aye, and so it was when I first laid eyes on ye. The need to keep ye safe, the need to make ye mine. Sometimes, fate offers us a gift we’d never foreseen.”

  A gift we’d never foreseen. So much for his assertion that he had no talent for sweet sentiments. Not that he needed words when passion blazed in his unforgettable eyes. She took a step back, needing to put distance between them if she were to remain strong.

  “Marry me, Johanna. We’ll have a grand life together.” He dipped his head and claimed her lips, the most delicious of kisses.

  His caress conjured a sultry fog, engulfing them. She could scarcely think, yet alone reason, when every cell in her body longed for him. But there was no choice. Allowing him to sweep her away was a delicious prospect. But she had to protect her heart from its own foolish yearnings.

  “I am so very sorry, Connor.” Pulling away from his embrace, she rushed to the door. “My answer is no.”

  …

  The snick of the door as it closed behind Johanna reverberated in Connor’s ears like a gunshot. A sense of disbelief descended over him as he watched her bolt from his arms and hurry from the room. She’d closed the portal quietly behind her, taking care to avoid making a scene even as she fled his presence.

  Reality slammed into Connor, a brutal punch he hadn’t been able to duck. He hadn’t thought she’d leave him. Bluidy hell, he hadn’t anticipated this.

  Dazed by the pain coursing through his veins, he made his way to the courtyard and stared into the night. He was alone.

  As he deserved to be.

  What in blazes had he expected? Had he been fool enough to believe she’d fall into his arms and never want to leave? He’d offered her little more than passion. Sweet as it was, she deserved more.

  More than he could give.

  And she knew it.

  Hellfire and damnation, he’d spent so many years chasing precious heirlooms—so much of his life protecting Scotland’s treasures. And now, the rarest treasure he’d ever encountered was about to slip through his fingers. And there didn’t seem to be a damned thing he could do about it.

  He’d never find the words to convince her to stay. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him that evening, his presence had seemed to knock her off-kilter. She’d regarded him with a coolness she didn’t attempt to hide. An icy defense infused her words. Somehow, he’d hurt her. Damned if he knew how.

  He never should’ve let her go. He should’ve done whatever it took to keep Johanna and her niece in the Highlands. In centuries past, he might’ve claimed her, as MacMasters men of old had claimed their brides.

  But those days were long past. And Johanna would never abide being claimed. Had she been born five centuries earlier, she still would’ve given some MacMasters ancestor the challenge of his life. The lass possessed a spirit that would never be cowed.

  God, how he needed her. He craved that spark in her eyes, the delight in her smile when something struck her fancy. He savored the velvet whisper of her voice when she spoke his name in passion, and the sullen little scowl she got on her pretty face when he vexed her. He wanted her at her best and her worst, when joy filled her heart and sorrow weighted her soul. How could he face a lifetime of days and nights knowing that Johanna was an ocean away?

  She wouldn’t be alone for long. Soon enough, she’d attract a man. A civilized banker or some milksop like that—a man who’d offer her a life of comfort, a stable home for the bairn, and someday, wee ones of her own to cherish. He’d be a good enough husband. Johanna would not settle for anything but a good man.

  But whoever he was, the lucky bastard would not—could not—love her as Connor had.

  Bollocks, he couldn’t go on like this. He couldnae stand here staring at the stars, going mad with longing for a woman who wanted him as much as he wanted her. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

  In his mind’s eye, he conjured her image. She’d studied his face, searching for something. Something he hadn’t offered. Something she fiercely wanted, given the sheen of moisture in her gorgeous blue eyes.

  I love her. Now. ’Til the end of time.

  Couldn’t she see that he loved her? Couldn’t she taste it in his kiss and read it in his touch?

  Bluidy idiot! He cursed himself for a dolt.

  He loved her. For better and for worse. Until the moment he drew his last earthly breath. And beyond.

  But like a damn fool, he’d never told her. God knew he’d shown her passion. He’d loved her with his body. But he’d never uttered the words.

  He’d never taken that ultimate risk with the rusty thing in his chest he called a heart.

  He loved Johanna. He’d cherish her and protect her and devote himself to her. And it was bluidy high time she knew it.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Serena and Laurel’s happy conversation dangled in mid-sentence as Johanna approached the table. Serena’s mouth thinned. Keeping her gaze fixed on Johanna, she reached for her water glass.

  “I take it my brother told ye what was on his mind.” Serena sipped from the crystal goblet.

  “Yes. I presume you knew what he planned.”

  “I’d hoped ye’d be receptive. I’ve seen the way ye look at him… I deduced incorrectly.”

  “Deduced incorrectly?” Johanna selected a chair across from Serena. “My heart is not a puzzle to be solved.”

  Serena tapped a fingertip against the vessel. “I am sorry, Johanna. I thought…well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. But it’s best that ye know what’s on my brother’s mind.”

  “In any case, I will still be pleased to help you get your bearings in Philadelphia. I trust your story was true.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t lie to ye.” The patter of Serena’s finger against the crystal sped up. “After all, I did tell ye he would be here.”

  “Indeed.” Johanna wished she could magically transport herself to some other place—any other place. Laurel’s focus hadn’t left her since she’d rejoined them. Did the child have any idea what had occurred? Later, Johanna would reassure the child that she’d never leave her again.

  Serena squeezed Laurel’s hand. “Let’s order something good to eat, shall we? My brother has taken care of the arrangements.”

  Laurel nodded enthusiastically. “There he is. He’s come back to celebrate with us.”

  Serena and Johanna both turned to witness Connor’s approach. Serena’s forehead furrowed like a washboard, and her top teeth worried her bottom lip. “Oh, dear.”

  Given Serena’s reaction, one might have expected Connor to be scowling fiercely. But his face bore no trace of anger. To the contrary, a sly smile that might’ve won the hearts—and decidedly more carnal interest—of every female in the room curved his lips. Not that he would’ve had any difficulty o
n that account. With his raven’s wing hair, powerful shoulders, and the tantalizing way the tartan draped his lean hips, it appeared every woman in the dining room who’d lived less than a century followed his path with their appreciative gazes.

  Johanna’s mouth went dry. She gulped a drink of water, as if that would tamp down the instinct to flee. She had no desire to face him again. Not now.

  And especially not here.

  Standing before Laurel, he met the girl’s curious eyes. “I’ll be needing another word with yer aunt.”

  Laurel blinked. “Is this about your birthday…about your present?”

  “As a matter of fact, it is. But what I have to say, I can say right here. Right now.”

  Johanna popped from her seat. “That is not advisable.”

  “I’ve decided it is.”

  Ah, his husky burr melted something glacial and hard within Johanna, a frigid shell encasing her vulnerable heart. But this was not the place. Not the time. She glanced about the spacious dining room. Curious onlookers had pivoted to take in the unexpected entertainment. “You…you are causing a scene.”

  “If I wanted t’do that, ye’d be over my shoulder and out of this place.” Something in his wicked grin told Johanna he meant every word.

  “This is not amusing.”

  “’Tis not meant to be, mo chridhe.” He caught her hand in his. “I am a bluidy dolt, Johanna. I’ve no idea what I’m doin’… No idea what the right words are to make ye mine. But I know I love ye.”

  His words seemed a confession. How desperately she wanted to believe him. She ached to trust him, to surrender to the tender emotion she could not deny.

  Beneath her heavy skirts, her knees wobbled. She longed to tell him the feelings that swelled her heart nearly to bursting. But the words would not come. She, who made her living putting words to paper, could only look into his fine green eyes and murmur a single question.

  “You…you love me?”

  His eyes drank her in. “How could I not love ye? I thought ye knew, thought ye’d figured that out. I’ve been in love with ye since ye first crossed the threshold at Dunnhaven. Perhaps even longer. Ye’re lovely, lass. But there’s more. Ye’re courageous. Ye protect what ye love. And ye love with a fierceness I cannae get enough of. But I couldnae find the right words. Couldnae find the right time.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I was a fool to let ye get on that train. I should’ve told ye then…in Inverness. I love ye, Johanna.”