Alec MacDara strode up and down in front of the line of young men, pausing now and then to squeeze a shoulder or lift one of their arms as though judging livestock at the county fair. He finally selected the smallest of the group, handed him a sword that was nearly twice the young man’s size, and pointed to the center of the ring. “You. Go. Let’s have a look at ye then.”
The scrawny, nervous boy who would blow away if a strong wind hit him stumbled to the designated spot, visibly struggling to drag the sword along beside him. He let out a wheezing grunt, face turning a reddish purple as he strained to lift the blade into the air. The sword wobbled and swayed for a tense moment then dove downward, the tip plunging deep into the dirt.
The rest of the anxious wannabes waiting for their turn at the sword tittered with relieved snickering. The beanpole of a boy shot them all a resentful glare, set his jaw, then staggered backwards, using his entire body to heave the massive blade back up into the air and swoop it from side to side.
Easily avoiding the swinging blade, Alec angled his way around to the boy’s side, clapped a hand on the lad’s bony shoulder, and pried the sword out of his shaking white-knuckled fists. “The sword is no’ the weapon for ye, but yer mother tells me ye’ve a fine way with the horses. Is that true?”
“I guess so.” The still red-faced lad deflated with a disgusted huff, staring down at the ground as though his entire world had just collapsed. “I just wanted to be one of the fighters—you know—for the girls?” He wheezed out another despondent sigh and kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt.
“Many a fair lass waits in line to ride the fine MacDara horses we have stabled here.” Alec gripped the boy’s shoulder and gave him a congenial shake. “I’m thinkin’ they’d be most impressed by a man able to control such mighty beasts and take them for rides through our fine countryside.”
The boy’s face visibly brightened. Renewed hope straightened his back as he stood a bit taller. “Really?”
“Aye.” Alec nodded and steered him toward a gated path on the other side of the ring. “Off wi’ ye now to the stables. Old Tom’s expectin’ ye. He’ll explain yer duties to ye.”
“Thanks, Mr. MacDara!” The boy bobbed his head, his lopsided grin stretching from ear to ear as he stumbled backwards toward the gate. “Thanks a lot!”
Well, well, well. An uber-alpha Highlander with a heart of pure gold. Sadie cocked the bill of her ball cap a tad lower. Alec MacDara’s kindness triggered a warm, glowing sense of happy straight to her core. I could so get into researching this guy for a hot Highland screenplay.
A sharp jab in the ribs rudely interrupted the promising dialogue already flowing through her mind. “What?” Sadie jerked around and fully focused on her sister, immediately regretting the sharp tone of her what and the resulting look on Delia’s face. Great. Here comes an ass-chewing.
“I asked you a question, and your head rattling when you nod doesn’t tell me a damn thing. Watch that tone or you can kiss this job goodbye.” Delia’s face—immaculately chiseled by LA’s best plastic surgeons—tightened into a threatening scowl that would challenge the best Botox. She smoothed her miniskirt with an irritated yank, then hooked a finger in her plunging neckline and resettled her newly purchased cleavage to a more revealing angle. “If that’s Alec MacDara, I know exactly how to handle this meeting.” She flexed her toned and professionally sculpted body like a peacock preening for a mate.
“Yes. That is Alec MacDara, CEO of Highland Life and Legends,” Sadie replied in the most placating tone she could manage without gagging. And I’m sure he’ll be panting at your feet in no time. His type usually can’t resist you—until they find out how you really are. She tapped the surface of her tablet. “Look. I showed you this article about him and his family the other day. Remember?”
Delia pushed the tablet away, not even sparing Sadie a sideways glance. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am extremely busy. You can’t expect me to hear every inconsequential word that falls from your lips.” She turned and fixed Sadie with the only look she’d ever had that remotely resembled a smile. As far back as Sadie could remember, Delia had never managed a real smile or looked remotely happy. Her strained smirk always came off looking as though she smelled a stink.
Delia’s simpering pout twisted up at the corners into an even more malicious curl. “You might be my sister, but I hired you to handle things. Be my assistant. For your sake, I ignore your prattle—much like tuning out background noise. Now shut it while I observe this fine male specimen and plan my next move to close this deal.”
Sadie locked her jaws and tightened her grip on the tablet so hard that her knuckles popped. One of these days I’m gonna tell you to shove this job straight up your ass, Delia. Unfortunately, today was not that day.
Sadie slowly pulled in a deep breath. She needed this job. It was the surest bet she had at getting into the world of screenwriting. Gotta take it ’til I make it. Her sister Delia had founded Realm Spinners Productions with the vast inheritance left to her when their parents had died in the crash of their private jet. Big sister had all the connections Sadie needed, but those connections were a double-edged sword. Delia could blackball Sadie’s screenplays forever with just a few phone calls.
And to add insult to injury, Delia also controlled Sadie’s meager share of what really couldn’t be termed an inheritance. The paltry amount had been more like a slap in the face. But still, Delia had been named guard dog to all the assets left in the Williamses’ vast estate. Sadie figured it was a last-ditch effort by their mogul parents to convince the world that Delia wasn’t as heartless and self-centered as everyone thought.
Sadie was positive they were also attempting to punish her for being—how had they always put it?—so damned embarrassingly unconventional. Sadie had never fit into her parents’ mold.
Sadie really didn’t hate her parents for their last act of aristocratic bullying. After all, they’d always treated her that way—and besides, she was the adopted one. The odd one. The fat little Mediterranean girl they’d taken in to show the world how charitable they could be.
Sadie huffed out a humorless laugh. She’d show them. Succeeding and becoming a renowned screenwriter would be her sweet revenge. She shook off Delia’s bitchiness and hurried to jot a few memory joggers into her tablet. Alpha Highlander. Soft-hearted. Loner. Wounded hero type. I’ll plot this one out tonight.
“I’m a busy man. If ye wish t’speak with me, ye’d best be about it, aye?”
The suddenly much closer proximity of that deep, rich voice with the come-hither brogue triggered a sharp inhale that effectively lodged Sadie’s gum into the middle of her windpipe. Fisting one hand over her mouth, Sadie turned away, coughing and wheezing for air. Dammit. I’m gonna die right here in front of Mr. MacSexy.
Strong hands gripped her upper arms, then a sharp rap between her shoulder blades effectively shot the offensive wad of chewing gum out of her mouth. Sadie closed her now extremely watery eyes, squeezing hard to reabsorb the choke-induced moisture. Isn’t this lovely? Delia’s gonna have a shit fit and this guy’s gonna think I’m an idiot.
Turning her about, the strong hands held her arms with a gentler grip, steadying her on her feet. “Are ye all right then?” Concern filled the clearest blue eyes Sadie had ever seen. The Caribbean Sea lapping upon a white Jamaican beach couldn’t hold a candle to that shade of blue.
Holy shit, I could drown in those eyes. “Uhm…I’m fine.” Sadie bobbed her head and backed up a step with a nervous fluttering of one hand, coughed again, and struggled to delicately wheeze in another deep breath without seeming starved for oxygen. “Just got choked on my gum. Thanks for knocking it free.” She fished a crumpled tissue out of the pocket of her jeans and scooped the sticky ball of embarrassment up from the ground. She wrapped it tightly in the tissue and shoved it back into her pocket. “Don’t want anyone to step in that. Doesn’t it just piss you off when you get gum stuck on your shoe and then stick to the ground with
every other step?” Dammit, Sadie. Shut the hell up. She was babbling like a fool.
A hint of a grin played across the man’s full lips, perfectly highlighting the slightly off-centered cleft in his chin. “Aye. ’Tis rudeness itself when folk show such disregard for the land and those who walk upon it.”
Delia shoved her way between them, extending her perfectly manicured hand and amping up her I smell a stink smile to its highest possible wattage. “Mr. MacDara, I’m Delia Williams, and I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you meeting with us today.”
A look of irritated boredom immediately settled across Alec’s face, dark and threatening, like clouds blotting out the sun. His gaze briefly dipped to Delia’s extended hand, then slowly returned to her fake smile. He took a step back and methodically folded his muscular arms across the endless expanse of chest that had taken on the most delicious gleam in the heat of the afternoon sun.
Sadie caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, doing her best to control the urge to lick her lips. The man looked like a well-oiled piece of sensual machinery ready to be fired up. He also looked rather pissed.
“As I said, I’m a busy man.” Alec frowned down at Delia’s still extended hand. “There are two reasons why yer here today. My legal counsel advised ’twould be wise t’hear ye out.” He paused long enough to flex and resettle his folded arms. Both his tone and scowl softened as his attention shifted back to Sadie. “And then there’s the matter of the daily emails.” He gifted Sadie with the return of the lopsided smile that somehow promised there was a great deal more that he wasn’t saying—yet.
“Daily emails?” Delia darted a narrow-eyed look at Sadie, then awkwardly withdrew her hand and totally failed at saving her dignity by propping her fingers on one hip and striking her trademark I don’t give a shit pose.
Alec fully faced Sadie, his faint look of amusement morphing into a warm we’re about to share a delicious secret smile. His eyes seemed darker now, like the deeper part of the ocean—and they sparkled with…something. No. It wasn’t exactly a sparkle. Alec looked almost smug, as though he’d finally found something worthy of his time.
What a look! Was it a flicker of interest? Nah. Couldn’t be. She had to be reading him wrong. Her senses were probably off due to jet lag and the time zone change. Guys like him went for thin, leggy blond Delias, not curvalicious chunks of fun Sadies.
“I assume yer the writer of the emails?” Alec asked, his deep brogue melting into what could only be described as a wonderfully audible caress.
“Uhm…yes, I am.” Sadie ignored Delia’s irritated huff and extended her own hand. “I’m Sadie Williams. Delia’s assistant…and her sister. But how did you know the emails were from me, Mr. MacDara?”
“Ye may call me Alec—and the emails had a certain tone…” Alec paused and cast a dismissive glance over at Delia, then shouldered away from her as though shrugging off a pest. “Yer messages had a way about them that fit ye. I doubt that one over there could ever write them.”
He scooped up Sadie’s extended hand, gallantly brought it to his lips, then gifted her with a genuine smile she’d remember in her dreams. “ ’Tis m’utmost pleasure t’finally meet ye, Mistress Sadie Williams.”
“Just ‘Sadie’ will be fine,” she whispered, then pressed her lips tightly together and held her breath. She was torn between melting into a purring puddle of sheer bliss and laughing out loud at the low, strangled growling sound of Delia shifting into super-bitch hyperdrive. She knew for certain she couldn’t laugh. If she did, Delia would surely fire her ass on the spot.
Clearing her throat, Sadie lightly squeezed Alec’s warm, callused hand. “The pleasure is mine. And thank you for meeting with us. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
“Aye,” Alec said. “ ’Tis my hope I’ll no’ be disappointed either.” The way he held her hand a bit longer before reluctantly letting go made Sadie wonder if Alec was talking about something other than the business meeting.
“Mr. MacDara…uhm…Alec.” Delia sidled closer, visibly struggling to keep her stiletto heels from getting stuck between the boards of the wood flooring of the observation landing. “You said your legal counsel found the terms of our filming contract suitable and recommended you speak with us. What do I need to do to convince you that Realm Spinners Productions should be allowed to use your lovely theme park as a filming location for our Scottish historical romance?” She leaned forward, arching her back and flaunting her cleavage so Alec would have no doubt that anything he might want was his for the taking.
“I’ll thank you t’call me Mr. MacDara.” Alec turned away, picked up his sword, and shoved it into the sheath belted to his side. “And I didna say the contract was found suitable. I said counsel recommended that I speak with ye.”
Without a look back, he headed across the practice arena with long, powerful strides. “Follow me. The board and I have our own terms and questions—as does my lawyer.”
Sadie started to follow, then looked back at Delia. Her red-faced sister was currently standing with both hands on her hips and staring after Alec as though she couldn’t believe he’d just insulted her and walked away.
Delia stomped one foot, a shrill hiss escaping her pursed lips as one of her heels wedged between the wooden boards. “Dammit! Is he crazy? I’m not walking through that filth in my Louis Vuittons.”
“Well, you’d better if you want this deal.” Sadie held out a hand to steady her sister. If she let Delia fall on her ass, she’d never hear the end of it. “I can’t believe you wore those shoes to a theme park. What the hell were you thinking?”
“Just shut up, Sadie,” Delia snapped. She wobbled across the uneven surface of the hard-packed dirt, nearly going down when one gleaming black heel sank into a pronounced dip.
Sadie caught her sister up by the elbows before she hit the ground. Just once, I should let you bust your ass. Inwardly, she shook her head. No. Gotta take care of Delia. She’s got the keys to the kingdom I want.
Comfortable shoes trumped high-priced heels any day in Sadie’s book, but Delia had always been a slave to fashion. Sadie tightened her hold on Delia’s arm as her sister stumbled across another rough patch of ground. “You’d better pick up the pace before he gets to the door and we lose him.”
Sadie glanced up just as Alec entered the building. “Too late. If that keep is as authentic on the inside as it is on the outside, it could be like a maze in there. We may be out of luck when it comes to this meeting.”
“If this meeting doesn’t go down, you’re going to be out of a hell of a lot more than just luck.” Delia hobbled faster, tightening her hold until her nails bit into Sadie’s arm.
Sadie flinched and steered Delia toward a smoother patch of ground. They finally reached the apron of concrete surrounding the massive stone archway sheltering the private entrance to the keep.
Delia yanked herself out of Sadie’s hands. “Just let me do the talking. None of your stupid jokes or idiotic attempts at humor. Keep your mouth shut, your back to the wall, and take notes like a good little mute assistant or this meeting will be your last. Understand?”
Thank goodness Alec had already disappeared into the keep and couldn’t have possibly heard Delia’s rant. Anger flashed hot through Sadie. Tightening her arm around her tablet, she sucked in a deep breath between clenched teeth and held it. Steady. Karma will get her. Sister Bitch will get what she deserves. Sadie released the breath and forced a smile at the stern-looking young man waiting for them beside the door. “Could you please point us in the right direction? I’m afraid we didn’t quite keep up with Mr. MacDara.”
The unsmiling youth glared first at Delia, then nodded at Sadie with a more amiable look. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the meeting room. Mr. Alec’s gone to change out of his workout clothes.”
Delia shoved her way in front of Sadie, her scowling backward glance clearly saying you’d better remember your place. She looped an arm through the waiting
man’s forearm, snugging up against him as though he were a long-lost lover. “Thank you so much. By all means, lead the way.”
Gotta take it ’til I make it. Sadie sucked in another deep breath, fell in step behind Delia, and instantly felt better. A satisfied smile tickled her lips and she almost snickered out loud. One of Delia’s precious Louis Vuittons had an ever-widening split in the spiked heel and a jagged tear in its costly leather.
Thank you, dearest Karma. I love you. Sadie’s step lightened until she was almost skipping.
Chapter 2
Alec shrugged on the crisp white shirt, twisting his fingers up the length of buttons as he slowly walked out of a closet big enough to house a small clan. Things were certainly different here in the twenty-first century. Fifteen years they’d been here. Even after all of Dwyn’s fosterin’ and teachin’ about the strange modern-day contrivances, Alec still was no’ so sure of the whys and ways of this time. I’ll not understand this strange time ’til they lay me in the grave and the goddesses explain it when I get t’the other side. Some things here were a bit better—but there were a great many things that had suffered with the changing times. At least so far as he was concerned.
He yanked at the shirt, scowling down at the last of the accursed slippery buttons that were entirely too small for his fingers. Damned if he could easily throw a knife at fifty paces and part a gnat’s wings but could barely fasten these worrisome buttons. “Has Davie settled them in the room yet?”
“Aye.” Dwyn MacKay, legal counsel and goddess-assigned advisor to the cherished MacDara clan—and to all the faithful descendants of the ancient druid clans covertly residing in the twenty-first century—perched on the edge of a leather-cushioned bench facing a wall filled with monitors showing various locations throughout the park. He nodded toward Alec’s chest. “I told Mistress Lydia to stop buying those shirts with the tiny pearl buttons, but she refuses. Says the shirt makes the man and by golly ye’ll be a-wearin’ them ’til ye settle down and give yer mother a house full of grandchildren.”
Sadie's Highlander Page 2