Rescued By the Scot

by Laura A. Barnes

  “Well I won’t give him the opportunity.”

  “I never knew ye to run away from what scares ye,” Isobel baited her.

  Mac didn’t rise to the bait. She rolled on her other side and stared at the wall. Isobel let out a chuckle which soon turned to light snores. Mac wasn’t so much as scared but cautious. She wasn't used to being so vulnerable and she didn’t care for this emotion. As she drifted off to sleep, she remembered how his touch made her feel and the promises his eyes held.

  Chapter Three

  FOR A WEEK SHE avoided him; not that it had been easy. She rose before dawn to help in the stables and throughout the day she rode guard duty. Then when she wasn’t making herself scarce, she helped the women finish their chores. Late at night she crawled in bed exhausted. He asked for her during the days, but still she avoided him.

  Mac rode with Gregor the next morning, deciding on how to proceed, when Ion rode up alongside them. Gregor was her brother’s next in command and her protector.

  “I thought you were on duty,” she snapped at Ion.

  Both men stopped their mounts, surprised at her sharp tone. She had never spoken to them in anger. Her mood was testy from not sleeping. During the night she kept picturing him sitting on her bed, wearing nothing but a smile. She finally rose before dawn, deciding to ride out her frustration. That was where Gregor had found her.

  “Ewan is guarding th’ prisoner, but he is demanding tae see ye. He is up ‘n’ out of bed, wandering th’ castle asking everybody where Mac is. He is bothering everybody. Said if ye don’t show, ye leave him na choice but tae leave. Ah warned him, bit he said nae tae worry mah brawny self over his actions.”

  Mac scowled her frustration at this news. Who did he think he was? They didn't behave this way in Scotland. Just because he was an Earl didn’t make her bow to him. This wasn’t his land to make demands.

  “Leave him to me, ride back and warn the men of his threat. Say nothing to him, I will discuss his capture with him in my own time. Let him try to leave and he will wish he remained in the castle.”

  “Ah think yer playing a dangerous game wi’ that one Mac,” Gregor warned.

  “I think the Earl needs to learn who is in charge and what better way than letting him escape. Besides you know what we do when prisoners escape.”

  “Logan wid nae approve o’ this behavior o’ ye.”

  “Well Logan is not here, is he?”

  “Aggie says you’re smitten wi’ him.”

  Mac glared at him, “The ole hag is going senile.”

  Gregor let out a rough laugh, “Ah think ye protest too much.”

  Mac turned her steed around, setting off at a fast pace, putting as much distance from her and the castle as she could get. She heard Gregor following her at a distance. He stayed far enough away, that she might exercise out her demons, but close enough to protect her if he must.

  Why was everybody trying to throw her in the path of that dandy? Didn’t they see he was only a means to an end? And that end resulted in getting Logan rescued. Who cared if he tried to escape. It would only make for a miserable week for him. She wouldn’t feel sorry for him either.

  She pulled on the reins and brought Lady to a trot. As she circled back, she gradually made her way to the castle grounds. As she passed Gregor, she noticed he wore a big grin at her discomfort. She gave him a scowl as she rode towards the stables, which only made him laugh at her expense as he followed her. When she reached the stables, she slid off her horse. Mac whispered in Lady’s ear her gratitude for the exercise, while she patted her mane. Mac then continued to the castle.

  She slipped inside the doors and snuck up to her bedchamber. Inside she peeled away her clothes, dropping them along the way, as she walked to the bathtub. The tub was waiting for her, filled with hot water and the scent of heather perfumed the air. As she slipped into the bath, she slid down and let the warm water relax the tension from her body. She moaned at the wonderful enjoyment of the water soothing her body, she closed her eyes to soak. Which only brought to her more images of him. This time she imagined him helping to wash away her aches. The only way to ease the aches, was for his touch to caress her body.

  “Do you need help Skye?” his dark voice invaded her thoughts.

  She sat up in the tub, causing water to rush out, splashing on the floor in waves. Then she swiftly slipped under the water until only her face was emerged. She grabbed the towel from the stool and covered her body with it. The rotten luck with that was she realized it was the only thing to cover herself with when she planned to exit the bath. And exit she must, to clothe herself against him. He had made himself comfortable in her favorite chair tucked in the corner next to the window. The same place where she liked to relax and read as she gazed out amongst her land.

  “How did you get in here?” she demanded.

  “Now Skye, I can get in anywhere I want. That is a warning to you, you won’t keep me from anywhere I want to go,” he explained as he emphasized her god given name.

  He sounded so proud of himself that he learned her name. She wondered which one squealed first, Agatha or Isobel. Traitors the whole lot; she would handle them later. Why was everybody in her clan trying to play matchmaker with this man? Did they not see what he was? A scoundrel of the highest order. He oozed his charm, obviously on the women of her clan. Well he wouldn’t charm any information out of her.

  “Leave this room right this instant. Have you no shame? You sir are no gentleman.”

  “I never said I was.”

  “Scoundrel.”

  “Tyrant.”

  “Rogue.”

  “Temptress,” he whispered to himself. But not quietly enough, for she overheard the words which passed through his lips.

  Skye blushed a dark shade of red over her complete body. Her body heated underneath the water at his words. Not only from his words but from his stare. He lounged there sprawled out in her chair, studying her at a slow perusal.

  “Please, I will see you when I am finished. I promise.”

  Maxwell pushed himself to his feet, strolling over to her. He stopped at the foot of the tub and gazed at her body. Her wet naked body which she tried to cover with a towel. The towel hid nothing from his sight, only enticing him to want to view more. He tried to be immune to her, but his inner self kept drawing her to him. She was a beacon of light to his dark soul. The water danced in waves as she squirmed to hide herself from him.

  He knelt, dipping his hand into the warm water. His fingers found her ankle and wrapped around the base. He gently stroked his thumb along the padding of her foot, kneading the arch. His fingers trailed up her leg, and he listened to her gasp right before she moaned. Then he dipped his other hand into the water, wrapping his hands at the bottom of her legs and yanked on them. As he pulled her towards him her body slid under the water, dunking her whole face. When he let go of her legs, he stood and walked to the dresser, pulling out her robe. The best action for him was for her to dress before they had their conversation. She was too much of a temptation.

  Skye rose out of the water sputtering her anger at him, calling him a variety of names that no lady should even speak, let alone know. But Skye MacKinnon was no lady. Oh, she was a goddess, of that Maxwell had no doubt. He stared as she stripped her way to the tub and regarded every delectable inch of her. She made him so hard as he caught her undressing; her unaware of his presence. It wasn’t until she dipped under the water before he brought himself under control, even then he struggled. He still fought the temptation, but at least he could talk with her now. Her fury he could handle; her moaning, lying naked in the bathtub of water he couldn’t.

  As he returned to the tub, he held the robe out for her. He turned his back and laid the robe over his shoulder. She grabbed it from him, giving him a shove to push him aside as she slid out of the tub. He listened to her muttering to herself as she wrapped the garment around her wet body. When he didn’t sense her behind him, he turned around to find her. She had removed
herself across the room, opening the door.

  Zane moved to her side, sliding his palm against the door, and slammed it back shut. The last thing he needed was her leaving the room or calling for protection. He had to act fast to acquire his answers. Her sister-in-law calmed him earlier and explained this enigma of a woman. She was amazing and frustrating together at the same moment. Never had a woman crawled under his skin like her. One minute he wanted to bait her, the next he wanted to take her feisty mouth under his and savor her energy. She was all sass, but also held a vulnerability he wanted to protect. As he observed her with her clan, he noticed what they saw, but more. When she thought no one looked, her guard lowered. Isobel explained why Skye was in power and she would be a good ally if he could align himself with her.

  When he pulled her into his arms, he felt her stiffen. God, she felt like heaven. If this were any other moment in his life he would act on this, but he realized he couldn’t afford to. He was running out of time. To save this mission, he must convince her into letting him help her. They could work together to destroy Shears. He realized she wasn’t involved in destroying England. She wanted him to believe she was, but he had a sixth sense about people, and he perceived he wasn’t wrong on her.

  She tried to remove herself from under his arms, but they were bands of steel. For a man starved for a week, he had an uncontrollable strength. She must get out of his arms before she did something stupid as throw herself at him like a hussy. The longer he held her, the more her control slipped. She tried to resist, hoping it would make him want to let her go. But it had the opposite effect, before she understood what was happening, he pulled her up against his body tighter. When she looked up her gaze got caught in his smoldering stare. His dark eyes grew darker, pulling her into his spell. She felt her nipples tighten under her light robe as they pressed into his chest. She noticed the effect she was having on him as he pressed into her body. His hardness dug into her hip.

  He tried to resist, but it was nigh on impossible to resist such a sweet package. Her robe clung to her wet body, the dampness outlining her against the sun shining through the window. Her nipples pressed through the damp fabric, making him groan inwardly at their display. She melted in his arms. It was easier when she fought him to get away, but when she stood still and relaxed against him, Maxwell lost his mind.

  “Ah hell, just one taste,” he muttered to himself. Or to her. He wasn’t sure anymore.

  Zane lowered his head and took her lips in a swooping kiss. He caught them both unaware, his lips devouring hers. He drank from them like a starving man. Starving for a drink. Starving for a taste. Starving for her. She was his oasis in this lost paradise. Only a drink of her fulfilled his quench. Skye was the only one that could pacify his hunger and need.

  Their lips tangled in sweet bliss. Both drawing a kiss from the other. Where one kiss started and ended another began. There was not one taste. There were many. Their tongues slid across one another, licking, sucking, nipping off the dew of their kiss from each other’s lips.

  “Just one touch,” he muttered between kisses.

  Zane’s hands dove into Skye’s hair pulling her closer as his lips devoured her. He held her to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer. They couldn’t pull themselves in any tighter, but they tried. Kisses became moans, which became bolder touches. Their lips started a firestorm which couldn’t be extinguished. Before long, his hands caressed her entire body, stroking her to a higher level of passion.

  Skye lost in the passion of his kisses, realized she should put a stop to this, but was unable to draw away. She had experienced nothing close to this in her life and was consumed with desire. She didn’t want him to stop. When he muttered just one touch, she wanted to shout NO. Give me more than one, please more than one. She wanted his hands to caress her, her body ached for his touch.

  When he pulled her robe apart, she wanted to jump out of her skin, as his fingers grazed her nipple. He teased the bud back and forth and she let out a moan between his lips. When his hand caressed her breast and squeezed lightly, Skye’s legs went out from underneath her. He caught her to him as he drew out their kiss to a single trace of his tongue across her lips, following with a gentle kiss.

  With a deep sigh, he pulled her robe closed and separated them. He stared as she tightened the belt on her robe. Also, he watched her distance herself from him and what they shared. Which was probably for the best, neither one of them wanted this. Whatever this attraction held, floated in the air around them.

  Skye moved to the dressing screen set up across the room, dropping her robe, she changed into a clean pair of trousers and a red blouse. She wrapped a stole around her shoulders with her clan’s tartan colors around her as a barrier of protection from his all-knowing searching gaze. She knew he stood on the opposite side. Waiting. For what; she was soon to discover. When she walked out she located where she had thrown off her boots and sat in her chair. As she tugged on her boots, she watched as he settled his back against the door, blocking her from leaving. Skye leaned back when she realized she was going nowhere soon.

  “Say your peace Maxwell. Then leave my room and do not darken my path until I take you back to Shears.”

  “Tsk, tsk is that how you treat the man your lips just devoured.”

  Skye raised her eyes at his smugness.

  “If I recall correctly, it was you who devoured my lips.”

  “Yes, you are correct. Although, from where I stood, you were more than a willing participant.”

  “Enough, we are discussing what you wanted.”

  “I want you. We both recognize it can lead to nothing but trouble. As difficult as it will be to resist you, I hope you will also please try.”

  Skye let out a laugh. He was trouble. Every tall, delectable inch of him.

  “In the rumors I overheard about you, funny nobody ever mentioned your humor.”

  He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Out with it. What are your demands?”

  “What are your plans with Shears?”

  “I will exchange you for my weapons in three weeks.”

  “No, you will not.”

  Skye ignored him, “Then I will use those weapons to bring England to her knees.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  This made Skye furious, she came out of her chair towards him.

  “Who do you think you are, coming in to my castle, let alone my bedroom, telling me what you think I will do?”

  “I am a man who sees past your disguise. I see the lady you are. The woman you are meant to be. You will not use those weapons against England.”

  “Yes, I will,” she said walking away to stare out the window at her beloved land. She saw the heather blooming on the mountains in the distance. It was a magnificent sight to see the purple blooms against the sun.

  “Skye…”

  “Do not call me that, my name is MacKinnon.”

  “Mac, let me help. I spoke to Isobel, she told me the mission your brother Logan was working on for the Crown. Let me help you.”

  She turned around to glare at him. How dare he bring up Logan to her? Isobel spoke too much and trusted too easily.

  “From what I hear, you are the last person to trust. Traitor is what they call you. Traitor to your friends. Traitor to the Crown,” she taunted him.

  Maxwell frowned at her words. How did she possess so much knowledge on him and he held none on her? While she tried to portray herself as a Scottish ruffian, she was too refined. It was his job to notice people's traits they didn’t even realize themselves. This skill made him an excellent spy. Her every action betrayed her to him, she had the grace of a lady but the spirit of a warrior. From what information Isobel gave him on Skye, her pride stopped her from asking for help, especially when she needed it the most. Also, she cared too much. She felt it was her duty to protect everybody.

  Skye had never graced London, he couldn’t have resisted her if so. He would've remembered her. There wou
ld have been talk, she would have turned London on its axis and spun it around. No, she had never been there. So how did she know about him? A mystery to solve later. Now he needed to convince her to work together. He had nobody else. Which was his own fault, he realized that now. He made it impossible for anybody who knew him, to trust in him again. He had to learn to live with his consequences. But for now, the only person he needed to trust him was this lady sitting across the bedchamber from him.

  “You have heard correctly,” he said as he bowed to her. “Earl Zane Maxwell, double agent to the Crown at your service.”

  “With those words, you expect me to trust you?”

  “No, I only hope you will.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I can help you bring your brother home and destroy Shears. He is the one you want to destroy, not England.”

  Skye didn’t answer him. She observed him quietly, listening to his words and staring at him as he talked. His voice drew her to him like a moth to a flame. His words were soft and soothing, coaxing her to trust him. To believe in him. She felt herself responding to his promises. His voice and soulful eyes caused a reaction in her. She observed him on the ship and saw how they shuttered when they discussed him as if he didn’t exist. They were hard and full of hatred. Now as they pulled her in deeper, she saw the agony of pain he suffered. When she flung the words of traitor at him and mentioned his friends, she noticed how he flinched and the sadness which crept into his eyes. Was he trustworthy? Were his actions, of one of a greater strength? What did he hide? Was it a cover up to ensure Shears's victory? For her to trust him, she needed answers from him.

  “Answer this for me and I will consider working alongside you.”

  Zane nodded his head, agreeing to her demand. He understood to earn her trust he must give her his trust in return. With that trust came honesty. Honesty that might risk his cover, but not from her doing. He had faith he could trust in her, she had too much at stake to risk.