The Highlander's Kiss (Highland Legacy Book 2)

by D. K. Combs

  Swallowing down the bile in his throat, he held his elbow out to her. Dull eyes met his, and he watched as her lips pressed. Suspicion was marked all over her face, but she took his elbow nonetheless, head high, those haunted eyes staring straight ahead. What had happened to her that even after days, she was affected by what had happened between them?

  He wanted to ask, but he knew that would be a terrible idea, so he drew some of his own conclusions, like he did with everything.

  “I have errands that must be ran today. Would ye’ like to accompany me?”

  “…Sure,” she said cautiously. “What kind of chores?”

  “I must stop at the inn and speak to the keeper there. He has some acquaintances of mine rooming with him. Recently, he’s been asking me when they’ll be leaving. He needs the extra room.” He normally didn’t answer to anyone, but something compelled him to do so for her. He hated how silent and amiable she was. Alec much preferred the fighting and the banter than what he was seeing now.

  “Ah..”

  “Anyway,” he said carelessly, her indifferent disposition creating a cramp in his gut. “Since yer of the weaker sex, I’m of a mind to let ye’ ride the horse. I donna ken if ye’d make the trip on foot, wee lass.”

  Fire sparked in her eyes, and he kept his grin to himself. His comment had worked. Of course the lass would have made the trip to the village—hell, he’d found the wee chit by the river. That alone bespoke the stamina the lass possessed. She might infuriate him, but she was definitely intriguing…and he would expect no less from a daughter of The Lion.

  He was just about to tell her it had only been a jest when she gave him a hard look and swung herself onto the back of the horse with the expertise of a rider. His shoulders instantly fell—not even his comment had given her back her fire?

  “Lass, I was only—” His words were mixed with the sound of pounding hooves as the lass tore away from him, his horse all the merrier to be galloping away.

  Well, then, he thought with a glower. Seems the jest had done some good.

  Blay enjoyed the sense of freedom for only a moment. But before she knew it, common sense was kicking in and she realized what a mistake she had made to leave Alec behind like that. The twinkle in his eyes had been hard to miss.

  She reared the horse back, coming to a halt, and gently turned the horse around. Luckily, the beast was ready to get back to his master because he trotted like a happy pup the whole way there.

  “I see you’ve come to your senses,” he said with a raised brow. When he gave her that look, something in her stomach did a twist. She ignored it, proudly holding her head high.

  “The weaker sex, coming to their senses?” She chose to ignore the fact that just moments ago, his sudden kiss had haunted her. She had learned long ago to push the memories and thoughts behind her. Alec was a man of honor, as far as her father was concerned. Mayhap it had all been a misunderstanding. He had probably forgotten about it by now, anyhow.

  He snorted. “Aye, because I definitely meant that as a jab at ye’. Lass, yer the daughter of The Lion. I’m positive that ye’ could take down the best of my men.”

  A smile tilted the corner of her lips, but she held it back. “Mayhap I could. Mayhap,” she said with candor, “I could even take ye’ myself.”

  There was a small silence, and then in the quiet of the clearing with only the sound of trickling water, he roared with laughter. Birds rose from the trees and even she herself was surprised.

  Alec, the great and mighty laird of the MacDonalds, laughing? Today was surely a strange one, she thought with pursed lips. Still, his laughter was infectious, and before she knew it, she was bringing his horse closer to him. He mounted behind her, then slapped the beast on the rear.

  “We’re still going to the village today?” she asked. She honestly wasn’t sure how to feel about going. Her earlier mood had dissipated with their banter, but she was still skeptical about seeing all of the women he’s brought onto his land.

  The maids loved to gossip.

  She had heard many stories about the people he brought to the keep. All whores and traitors, people with valuable information that Alec apparently stored away for later use. It left little to the imagination on why he would bother to keep them. A man had no use for women of that stature except for a warm body in his bed.

  And Blay, who’s stomach twisted when he gave her a certain look, was not certain she wanted to see all the knowing glances they would cast him.

  “Of course. I have some things to handle there.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured, pursing her lips.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” He reached around her, taking the reins. He brought the horse up to an easy trot. With his warm body behind her, his heat radiating like a different sort of fire, and the hot sun that beat down on the greenery around them, it was entirely too surreal to believe. She was actually letting this barbaric man cradle her in his arms, in the hills of the Highlands, with not a care in the world about it.

  “Oh, nothing at all,” she said demurely.

  “Please, lass. I’ve been around enough women to ken that ‘nothing’, does no,’ in fact, mean nothing. Ye’ seem more tense when I agree to having to go to the village. Why?”

  Her eyes rolled back.

  “Donna pull that ‘thing’ ye’ do on me, brute.”

  “Ah. By yer insult, I see that I’ve hit a spot. Why do ye’ no’ want to go to the village?”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, starting to become irate. She really hated when he did that damn…thing. Ugh! Men! Or wait—not even men, just this particular one. Where had he even learned to deduce such nonsense?

  “Have ye’ heard some rumors, mayhap?”

  She stayed silent, brooding. It was none of her business what he did. He was laird. He answered to no one, including her. And even then, she did not want to be caught in her…jealousy? Discomfort? She really had no clue what to call whatever it was she felt towards him for having so many women at his beck and call. One should always be enough—it was that way for her parents, and they had a wonderful marriage.

  “Ye’ have,” he said quietly, to himself. “I assume yer thinking of the women?”

  She tensed. How did he manage to do that blasted thing?

  “The maids like to gossip,” he murmured. “Alas, they are but rumors. Anything you’ve heard, I can assure ye’, is a lie.”

  “But…” She trailed off. It wasn’t her business, no matter that he was the one bringing it up.

  “But, what? How could I possible ken what yer talking about? It’s simple, lass. Not even my own father fully understands what I do.”

  “Is that by his own choice, or yers?” she asked, frowning. The more vaguely he spoke, the more curious she became. Was it really not as it seemed, with the women in the village?

  “I suppose it is a bit of both. He doesn’t like the shadow it brings to my name, but at the same time, he won’t tell me to stop what I’ve started because of the good that’s come from it.”

  “I think I understand that,” she said, nodding. Now she was truly curious. “What exactly is it that you…do? With these women?”

  At the question, he went silent.

  “It is not just women that come to me, lass. Many a lad has come to me with information as well. I…do many things. My name has spread around in their circles. They do not choose to ken what they do, but are either born into it or pushed into it. When they find the strength to escape, they come to me. I…save them, in a way.”

  Something twisted in her heart a little. As he spoke, she leaned into his chest, listening more aptly. The horse strolled at an easy, lazy gait, making it easy for her to hear him, easy for her body to melt into his as his brogue rolled through her ears.

  “I find housing for them, if I can. Jobs as servants at respectable households where their past won’t be held against them, where the people they used to work for can’t touch them. My matches normally work. Because of my experience on
the battle field, I have many who want to be allies with me. I barter with my subjects, but only at their permission. I try to let them decide.”

  Amazement filled her. This dangerous, proud man was exceptional. He did what no one else in the world would do. To Blay’s kind, a prostitute was always a prostitute, and a traitor was a traitor. She had never figured that they wouldn’t want to keep their jobs, that they sometimes didn’t have a choice. All her life, she had had a stable clan. They struggled for nothing. She didn’t know the lengths she would go to survive, but…now understanding had been shed upon her.

  And because of that, something inside of her changed toward the man. Her fear towards him after the kiss? Gone. He was no more a barbarian than she was a nun. He was…real. And unlike anyone she’d ever met, he was trying to make a change.

  It was inspiring and it changed everything she thought about the man. The sincerity in his voice rocked her. She could literally hear how dedicated he was to this, and to use connections that could be used to further his clan, for men and women he didn’t even know, in order to give them a better life?

  She swallowed.

  He was…he was honestly a great man.

  And the thought was as terrifying as her growing feelings for him.

  “My lord,” she said cautiously. The village they had come upon was teeming with people, and as the two of them approached by horseback, the activity came to a rest. Eyes turned to them, and her heart started to hammer in her chest. Why? Why was she so nervous that they were viewing them together, drawing conclusions that were no doubt false?

  They probably thought her one of his kept women, she thought, cheeks flaming.

  “They will stare. Nothing we can do about it now.” He exuded a clam she wished she could master. As it was, her hands nervously flitted in her lap, and she could only imagine what the two of them looked like together. As if he could sense her emotions, he kicked up the trot of the horse with a sigh. Villagers cleared the way until they were stopping in front of a village inn.

  “Do ye’ wish to come with me?” he asked, dismounting from the horse’s back.

  She glanced between the still-gawking people and him, then picked up her skirts. She had best go inside. The less people that came by to stare at her, the better. Although, what would they think that she was actually accompanying him? Would they think her one of the harlots he took in?

  When he noticed her pause, he gave her a droll look.

  “Your eyes are flittering back and forth, and your knuckles are white. I can only assume by the way you’re biting your lip and nervously motioning back and forth with your head, you are debating whether it is a wise choice to enter the inn with me. You must be worried that perhaps they will think you’re a—”

  “Well, that’s enough of that,” she said tartly, giving him a glare as she dismounted. Despite how much she couldn’t stand the deductions, she took the hand he offered and then promptly folded her hands over her skirts. “Now, let’s get on with this, shall we?”

  “Aye, but are ye’ sure ye’ donna want to wait outside? Yer being very defensive—”

  She took a handful of her skirts and breezed past him with an air of false confidence. “Must you do your deductions in public?”

  “Well, seeing as you wouldn’t move until I did so, yes.”

  She stopped in her tracks, and he nearly bumped into her.

  “You are a vexing man, Alec McGregor,” she accused. Only he would use her anger against her.

  “And you are an equally vexing woman, Blayne Shaw. Now, would you like to accompany me, or stay out here and give the villagers even more thoughts to ponder?”

  He didn’t wait for her to answer this time. Nay, he slid his arm through hers, grabbed her other hand and folded into the crook of his elbow, and then brought her inside.

  As much as it should have done otherwise, the heat of his body beside hers created a well of calm inside her.

  She shouldn’t feel anything towards him, she thought, as he guided her inside the inn. She shouldn’t notice his heat or the way he felt so strong and firm against her, but as the ruckus of the inn began to surround them, she was thankful for that.

  At least with him, however odd it was, she felt safe.

  “Ah, our laird has arrived,” a boastful voice said from the shadows. A man emerged from behind the bar and greeted Alec with a brief bow before crossing his arms over his chest. One second respectful, the next irate. “Have ye’ come to relieve my inn of your refugees?”

  Beside her, Alec shrugged.

  “I should have some space soon, Ulrich. For now, be patient. I came to speak with one in particular, though. Is Branaugh here?”

  Ulrich frowned. “That I donna ken. Is she the red haired one? Boxum, with a big arse that—” He stopped suddenly, and that’s when she noticed the glower come over Alec’s face. Ulrich cast a glance to her and gulped, some of his gusto fleeing.

  “Ah, my laird. I think I saw her up in return to her room. Do ye’ need me to send someone to fetch her?” he asked. Alec paused for a second, and after a quick glance at her, shook his head.

  “Nay. I’ll find her myself. My lady, would ye’ wait here for me?” He gave her a short nod, turned on his heel, and with every trait of a highland laird, he carried himself up the stairs and out of her view, leaving her alone—and frankly, worried.

  The inn keeper relaxed after the laird was out of sight, gesturing to the seat behind her. “Ye’ can have a seat there while I try to find a room for ye’.” With a sigh, he turned on his heel, big shoulders hunched.

  “Ah—That won’t be necessary. I’m staying at the castle with the lord.”

  He went still for a second, as if he had a hard time processing that, and then walked off with lowly mumbled words, words too quiet for her to hear.

  Blay sat where he’d directed her to and folded her hands neatly in front of her. It was the only way she could stem the shaking of them. What kind of work did Alec do here, that he could meet a lone woman in the light of day with not a shred of grace? He had promised to show her the way of his life, something he felt strongly about, and here she was.

  Sitting at a table.

  Pondering.

  Dreading.

  Heart hammering in her chest.

  What was he doing that she couldn’t have come with him? She bit her lip, staring at her fingers. The more she looked at the stairs, the more curious she became, until she heard the chair scraping against the ground as she slowly pushed it back.

  It isn’t your business to worry about, she thought to herself.

  Aye, but then…Alec had said he was going to show her the ways of his life. Mayhap it had been a test, she told herself, putting her hand on the banister of the stairs. Surely Alex wouldn’t be furious with her for taking a peek?

  With a curious bounce in her foot, she walked up the stairs, fingers dancing over the old wood banister that had probably felt a thousand hands during its life.

  Blay was a curious person by nature, an unfortunate trait she had gotten from her father. Now, as she heard Alex’s deep voice the closer she came to the top of the stairs, that curiosity turned to concern. She cleared the last of the stairs, the old hallway lit with nothing but a lone candle on the wall, and it seemed that the place was clear of people. The only door open, with firelight casting shadows over the threshold, appeared to be the source of the familiar baritone—only this time, it wasn’t a soft rumble in her ears that made her knees weak.

  No, this was the sound of a very furious, very dangerous laird.

  Blay touched the wall, leaning as close in as she could without being heard, her curiosity getting the better of her. She wouldn’t interfere. It wasn’t her place. It wasn’t like Alec would ever harm someone, right? At least, not someone he was supposedly helping?

  “Are you saying—”

  “I was no’ prepared for ye’ to—”

  “I should have you behea—”

  That had her stepping out from
behind the corner. It seemed she was wrong—but she wouldn’t have him threatening to behead anyone. Not while she was around, at least.

  “Alec?” she said demurely, plastering on a sweet smile. How did one handle themselves in this situation?

  He turned around quickly, and the emotion on his face nearly had her running right back down the stairs.

  No, she thought firmly. Her father hadn’t raised a coward.

  “You need to leave,” he hissed, slashing his hand at her. At the sharp movement, the woman sitting on the bed—a redhead with a rather large bosom—flinched. And when Blay took in the sight of the woman’s face, she saw why.

  Her eyes were green and framed with thick lashes, yet the beauty was marred. Circling her left eye was a large, horrendous bruise. Whoever had hit her had done so with enough force to leave the skin red and black. And right now, through all of her horror and fear, she only had one thought.

  Quicker than she had time to think, Blay moved around Alec and stood in front of her.

  “And you need to lower your tone when speaking to a lady,” Blay said, quietly.

  “She’s no lady—”

  “Aye, she may not be. But I am. God forbid my father hears of how you’re speaking to me right now, Alec McGregor,” she warned. “Now, what is going on?”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he snarled.

  She looked behind her, at the bruised woman who refused to meet her eyes. She could only assume one thing.

  Blay was…stunned. Nearly too stunned to focus on diffusing the situation. She had known Alec had a temper, but to harm a woman? The thought made her ill. He was no better than her ex-husband.

  He was…a monster.

  “Well, ye’ better, or I’m leaving here right now—and I’m taking her with me.” She saw movement from the corner of her eyes. The redhead had finally looked at her, but Blay was too focused on the barbarian standing in front of her.