Joanna's Highlander

by Greyson, Maeve

  But what about Grant? He’ll be hurt so badly. Not for long, she argued with herself. She’d been battling with that damn voice ever since Lilian Tasker made the offer. Guilt had attached itself to her like some blood-sucking demon that wouldn’t let go. How can I do this to him?

  Trying to sort through the dilemma, she mindlessly traced a fingertip around Grant’s nipple. Round and round the tightening button, she worked through her thoughts, mesmerized by the contracting movement of the dark, rosy nubbin.

  “If ye keep doing that…” Grant didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to, because she felt the proof of his warning growing long and hard against her stomach.

  She pushed up from his chest, slid down, and straddled his legs. Taking his hot, velvety hardness in one hand, she slowly massaged up and down. “You are insatiable,” she said as she bent and raced the tip of her tongue around the rim of his cock’s head.

  “Only with you, m’love. Only with you.”

  Joanna bent and licked the length of his shaft, then sucked him into her mouth as deep as she could. Grant’s entire body flinched and tightened beneath her. She sucked harder and faster while pumping the length of him she couldn’t fit in her mouth.

  Grant arched his back and groaned. His scrotum tightened in the palm of her hand. He was about to lose control. “Ride me, I beg ye,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Gi’ me yer heat!”

  He didn’t have to ask twice because she needed him just as badly. Joanna climbed up his thighs, hovered over his cock for a hot second, then rammed herself downward. She almost came immediately but clenched against it. No. Not yet.

  “Ride, lass, ride!”

  Joanna rocked slowly at first, then gained speed, gyrating hard and fast until Grant roared out a stream of Gaelic and arched upward, lifting them both off the bed. As he shuddered and pumped inside her, Joanna spun into her own orgasm, screaming out with the exploding bliss that wouldn’t be contained.

  Grant fell back to the bed, locking his arms around her and clutching her to his chest. “God a’mighty, love. God a’mighty.” Chest heaving, his heart pounded against her cheek.

  “I agree,” Joanna panted. I see us spending all our weekends in bed.

  Grant’s breathing gradually slowed and his heartbeat leveled out to a regular rhythm. As he calmed beneath her, a possible solution to their disagreement popped into her head. Maybe she could convince Grant to let her take the job in Chicago—temporarily. Six months. Just enough time to get him to give it a chance. Maybe the six-month offer would make him feel less threatened and help him believe that she wasn’t looking for a way to get away from him. Then after the six months was up, he’d realize just how easily they could make it work on a larger scale.

  She raised her head and propped her chin on her folded arms resting on the center of his chest. “Would you be willing to make a deal?” Help me play this right, she silently prayed.

  “A deal?” Grant’s eyes narrowed. “Ye ask me that after what we just did? So, ye mean t’take advantage of me in my weakened state? Shame on ye, lass.”

  “Yes—and no more ‘advantage’ than you took of me.” Joanna shifted a bit and fixed him with the sternest scowl she could manage under the circumstances. “You owe me a deal and you know it.”

  “And why would ye think I owe ye a deal?”

  “No condoms? At all. Last night or today?” Joanna gave him a look that he’d have no trouble deciphering. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

  A sheepish look settled across Grant’s face. “Ye said ye wanted children, and since we’re good as married…”

  “I said ‘someday.’ ” Joanna raised herself up and slid off Grant to kneel beside him on the bed. “Someday doesn’t mean ‘now,’ and I know the only reason you did it was to try to get me pregnant so I wouldn’t take that job.”

  “Well…” Grant grinned and gave her a wink. “That wasna the only reason.” He scooped up her hand and pecked a quick kiss to the backs of her fingers. “Ye canna tell me ye didna enjoy making love the way a man and a woman were meant to.”

  He made a valid point, but that wasn’t the issue here. Time to stick to her guns. “Okay, fine. But you still owe me a deal for trying to trick me.”

  Grant’s grin faded. “Fine. What is this deal ye wish to propose?”

  “Just give it six months. That’s all I ask.”

  “Six months for what?” He already knew “for what.” She could tell by the look on his face and the hurt shining in his eyes.

  “Let me give the job in Chicago a chance for six months so we can see if we can make the situation work.” Joanna held her breath. At least he wasn’t raging—yet.

  Grant rolled away from her and pushed himself up off the bed. Standing in the middle of the bedroom, he clasped his hands together on top of his head and leaned back to stare at the ceiling as though seeking divine guidance. Finally, his hands dropped and he turned to face her. “Why can ye no’ let this go, Joanna?” he asked quietly. “Why are ye so determined to do this?”

  “It means a lot to me.”

  “Apparently, it means a great deal more to ye than I do.”

  “That’s not fair.” Joanna slid to the edge of the bed and stood, wrapping the sheet around her body in the process. Suddenly, being naked didn’t feel quite right. “You know you mean everything to me. I never dreamed I could be this happy…this content.”

  “That’s no’ what ye just said,” Grant said sadly. He walked over to the corner of the room, scooped his kilt up off the floor, and belted it around his waist. Refusing to look at her, he shook his head. “Do whate’er ye will, Joanna. ’Tis obvious yer determined t’do what ye wish whether I agree to it or not, and nothing I say or do will e’er change yer mind.”

  “I just need you to give this a chance.” The defeat in his voice broke her heart, but she couldn’t give in now. “Six months. Just six months. Will you agree to that? For me?”

  Grant padded barefoot to the door, retrieved the key from the top of the frame, unlocked the door, and opened it. “I already said, ‘Do what ye will.’ I’ll no’ try t’stop ye anymore. But know this…I’ll ne’er find it in m’heart t’forgive ye for leavin’ me. I’m not the forgivin’ sort.” Without a look back, he left the room and softly closed the door behind him.

  She’d won. Sort of. Joanna slowly sat down on the bed while staring at the closed bedroom door. Still clutching the bedsheet to her chest, she unconsciously rubbed her fisted hand against the dull ache in the center of her chest. She swallowed hard at the knot in the middle of her throat.

  This sure doesn’t feel much like winning.

  Chapter 23

  “What time did you say your flight leaves?” Lucia handed Joanna her suitcase and backpack.

  “Six in the morning.” Joanna slung her purse over one shoulder and hefted the strap of her backpack over the top of it. “That’s why I’m taking the bus to Wilmington this afternoon to spend the night.” She glanced around the bus terminal parking lot, searching for the familiar Jeep that she instinctively knew wouldn’t be there.

  “He’s not coming to tell you goodbye, is he?” Lucia gave her arm a sympathetic squeeze.

  “Apparently not. I’d hoped once he calmed down that he’d change his mind.” Joanna swallowed hard against the growing ache threatening to choke her. “Obviously, I was wrong.” Either that or he still hadn’t calmed down.

  She hadn’t seen Grant since he’d washed his hands of her and left the bedroom yesterday morning. He hadn’t come home last night and hadn’t called. She figured he was staying either at the Keep or at Castle Danu with Alec and Sadie, but she didn’t know for sure and didn’t have the guts to check at either place. She probably didn’t rank too high on the MacDara clan’s favorite-person list right now. All she knew for certain was that she’d found it impossible to sleep las
t night. Even though he wasn’t physically there, she’d sensed his presence and longed to see him—touch him—figure out a way to explain things and somehow make this decision right.

  Joanna shook herself and pulled in a deep breath. Snap out of it. This is what the hell you wanted. She forced a weak smile and lifted her chin, determined to pull this off. “Is T still mad at me too?” Tyler had been just as angry and hurt to see her go as Grant had, and the seven-year-old hadn’t attempted to mince words when he’d told her just how he felt.

  “Pretty much.” Lucia shrugged. “But he’ll adapt.” She stared at Joanna a long time while holding the suitcase and unconsciously bumping it back and forth against her shins. “Are you really sure this is what you want to do?”

  “Of course.” Joanna cringed. Those words had come out entirely too fast and her voice was so high-pitched, she’d sounded like she’d squeaked. “Yes. I’m certain,” she said in a more authoritative tone. “Why? Don’t you think I’m making the right decision?” She needed somebody in her circle to reassure her, tell her she was doing the right thing. The more she forged ahead with this damned decision, the more isolated she felt.

  “It’s not my decision and I’m not about to tell you what I think you should do. That wouldn’t be right—and knowing you, no matter which side of the take-it-or-leave-it fence I stood on, you’d argue with me.” Lucia smiled and nudged Joanna’s shoulder. “But I say that with love and you know I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Her look grew serious and worry creased her brow. “But you’ve been happier here in North Carolina than you ever were in Chicago.” Lucia turned and watched the bus entering the terminal’s gates. “I don’t want you to lose that happiness, Joanna. You haven’t had a whole lot of ‘happy’ in your life. Money isn’t everything, and you know as well as I do that Mr. MacKay and Grant would help you figure out a way to handle your debts.”

  “I’m handling my debts by taking this job. End of story.” That had come out much sharper than she’d planned. “Sorry, Luce. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.” She adjusted her sunglasses and rolled her shoulders. “I’m tired. Didn’t sleep much last night. Too wound up about the job and the trip, I guess.”

  “You’re as bad a liar as I am.” Lucia handed Joanna’s suitcase over to the bus driver and watched him stow it in the compartment between the wheels. She turned back to Joanna, a pensive look on her face. “You know we could’ve taken the tour bus to Wilmington. Still can. You’d be a lot more comfortable and could stretch out on the bench seat in the back.”

  “Nah.” Joanna wrinkled her nose and shrugged, struggling to seem like she had the situation under control instead of revealing how she was about to shatter into a thousand insecure pieces of am-I-wrong-or-am-I-rights. “This’ll be fine. Besides, Tyler’s got school tomorrow and he doesn’t need to miss class because of me.”

  The real truth of the matter was that there was no way in hell she could keep up her end of any conversation all the way to Wilmington. The real and ever-present threat of bursting into tears was almost more than she could control right now. At least on the bus, her sunglasses would hide her red-rimmed eyes and she could pull her hat down low over her face and ignore everyone around her.

  She looked around the parking lot again, praying that Grant would show up before she had to get on the bus. One by one, all the passengers boarded and the only one waiting to get on the bus was the driver. The older man nodded her way, then climbed on board.

  “I guess it’s time.” Joanna cleared her throat and blinked rapidly several times, doing her best to keep the tears from overflowing. Dammit. I will not cry. She pulled Lucia into a tight hug. “I’ll call you when I’m settled in my room—okay?”

  “Sure,” Lucia whispered in a broken voice, squeezing her even tighter before letting go and stepping back. She swiped the backs of her hands across her cheeks and sniffed. “You have a safe trip, sweetie. Text me like every hour, okay?”

  “I plan to sleep most of the way, but I’ll text you—lots.” Joanna ducked her head and hurried to the bus. “Tell T that I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight too, so he’d better be over his poutiness!” she shouted as she glanced back and waved before hopping on the bus.

  “I will!” Lucia shouted after her. “Love ya, sweetie!”

  Joanna hurried up the bus steps, then bent and waved through the windows, her heart aching even more as Lucia slowly turned and walked away. She was on her own now. She had the job and she’d made the decision—all on her own. Well…this is what I wanted. Right? Now that she had this damned plan in motion, this plan that she’d been so sure was the right choice for her life, why the hell did it suddenly feel so wrong?

  Luckily, the bus was only half full, so she got a window seat and had the entire row to herself. Thank goodness for small miracles. She wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation. She just wanted to sulk. Sulk? I’m the one that wanted this. But did she really want it now that she’d kicked this gut-wrenching ball of damnation into play? Last night without Grant had been torture—especially since she knew that wherever he was, he was suffering because of her.

  She leaned against the window as the bus lurched forward. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of diesel and oil filling the air. Thankfully, the other passengers were relatively quiet. Other than the soft-voiced chattering of the pair of older ladies seated behind her, Joanna was left painfully alone with her thoughts and worries. Not only was she troubled about Grant and all that had transpired between them, she was beginning to wonder if she’d bit off more than she could chew with that damn job.

  Ever since she’d given Lilian Tasker her conditional “yes,” her phone had been buzzing with business texts nonstop and her personal email box had already exceeded capacity. She’d finally had to silence her phone to escape the incessant notifications. Whatever happened to letting someone get in the office first and get acclimated before you tried to drown her with corporate bullshit? She could only assume that since she’d worked there before, everyone figured she already knew what was going on and was ready to dive in headfirst without any flotation devices intact.

  I have screwed myself again. Royally.

  How did she always do it—every damn time? She always made the wrong choices and was too stupid to realize it until it was too freakin’ late. She sniffed and angrily swiped at an escaped tear. What if she’d even gone so far as to lose Grant? I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve lost him. Never. She bit her lip and closed her burning eyes against more tears. Thank goodness for sunglasses and ball caps. She adjusted both and hunkered down in the seat as the bus lurched around a curve and started up a steep incline.

  “Well, would you look at that?” said a quivering feminine voice behind her. Then a peck-peck-peck rattled against the window behind her like a woodpecker hunting a hollow tree for bugs.

  Joanna closed her eyes tighter. Great. Now that I’m trying to go to sleep, they decide to talk louder and beat on the window.

  “I’m glad you see him too, Esther, because I was afraid my meds were off again.”

  Joanna hunkered down lower and propped her knees on the seat in front of her. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Maybe if she repeated the mantra over and over, she’d drown out the old hens and finally get some sleep.

  “My, my, my. A man on a horse is sexy enough, but in a kilt? And nearly shirtless? If I was a few years younger…”

  Joanna’s eyes popped open. Kilt? She whipped off her hat and sunglasses and looked out the window. It only took a moment to home in on the unbelievable sight the old ladies had spotted.

  Léine untied and opened to the waist. Kilt fluttering back across the horse’s rump. Man and animal moved as one, galloping across the undulating hillside, running along the right side of the road.

  “He looks like one of them Highland warriors out of the movies,” remarked one of the ladies. “Damnation, Esther. Damnation, I’m go
nna need my oxygen.”

  Joanna couldn’t agree more. Her heart thumped harder, making it difficult to breathe.

  Broad chest revealed. Muscular thighs flexing with the ride. Reins resting easily in the palm of one hand, hammer clenched in the other. Grant’s blond hair was tied back away from his face and he rode crouched forward with his clenched teeth bared. Occasionally, he stole a glance down at the bus, then spurred his mount on to draw ahead of it.

  The longer she watched him, the more certain she became.

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered, white-knuckling the top of the seat in front of her. She jumped up, grabbed her bag, and bounced and weaved her way up the aisle. “Stop the bus!” she shouted. “Stop the bus!”

  The driver looked up, frowning at her in his overhead mirror. “You’re going to have to take a seat, ma’am. It’s unsafe for you to be up walking around on this stretch of road.”

  “Stop the bus!” Joanna repeated as she lurched into the front seat behind the driver. “Please stop it. Now. I’ve got to get off.”

  “I can’t stop the bus and put you out here in the middle of nowhere,” the driver argued. “Unless you’re feeling sick. The restroom is at the rear of the bus if you think you’re going to vomit.”

  What a good idea. Joanna slapped her hand over her mouth and pretended to gag. “I can’t make it to the restroom,” she gasped. “Please stop or I’m gonna—look out!”

  Grant and his horse galloped down the hillside at breakneck speed, cut across the highway in front of the bus, and reared to a stop in the middle of the road.

  “Holy shit!” the driver yelled. He stomped down on the brakes and pulled the emergency brake lever at the same time. Tires squealed, air brakes hissed, and both passengers and loose bags lurched forward with the sudden stop.