A Time & Place for Every Laird (30 page)

Day Ten

“You keep that up and we’re going to miss the ferry,” Claire murmured as Hugh pinned h
er up against the Prius, engulfing her with his massive body, and took her now tender lips in another fiery kiss as his hands crept up under her shirt.  He met no resistance.  For all she cared just then, the last ferry could leave without them.

They had spent most of the day lost in a sensual haze as they made love again and again. 
The last twenty-four hours had been the most remarkable, most passionate Claire could remember.  Hugh was an amorous lover, fervent without forsaking tenderness, erotic without being carnal, demonstrating effectively that past generations had made an art form of lovemaking while her own had probably invented the “quickie’.”  Together they had reached unimaginable heights.

She hadn’t been keen o
n giving up Hugh before, but now Claire thought she would risk discovery just to have a few minutes more with him.

“Ahh, Sorcha,” he whispered huskily, thrusting his hand into her hair to cup the back of her head and draw her lip
s back to his for another ardent kiss.  “I dinnae want to be apart from ye even for as long as it takes tae reach the depot.”

Neither did she. 
Nor for longer than that.  Pain lanced through her heart at the unsolicited thought.  The fifteen minutes they would be parted for this short drive was nothing compared to what awaited them in the days to come.  A raw sob rose in her throat but Claire choked it back.  “But you get to drive, right?  That will be fun.”

Hugh
turned away, and Claire took the opportunity to dash a hand across her eyes as he finished loading their bags in the back of Robert Mitchell’s Tahoe.  “Hae we got everything?”

“Everything I could think of.”
Since all she had really been able to think about was Hugh, Claire hoped the cleaning they had hurriedly completed to return the Mitchell beach house to its original state had been enough.  At least she had remembered to wipe away possible fingerprints.  “Are you sure you can drive this?”

“Sorcha
…” he said with some impatience.

“I’m a worrier, Hugh. 
I thought you had figured that out by now.”

“Aye, lass, I’ve ne’er met anyone who could fret so.”

“I know it’s not my finest quality,” she said.  “Combined with my sarcasm, bad temper, and unequaled evasion tactics, it’s a wonder you’re not anxious to see the last of me.”

Hugh paused and turned to face her.  “Is that why ye’ve avoiding answering me question?  Ye think I am eager tae leave ye behind?”

“I’m difficult and stubborn,” Claire said lightly.  “Everyone says so, even you.”

“Mayhap I like a lass who can keep me on my toes,” he responded, reaching out to caress her cheek once more.

His blue eyes were dark with emotion that Claire didn’t dare guess at.  Hugh hadn’t expressed any more tender feelings than friendship, nor had she, and she wanted to keep it that way.  If there was any chance that Hugh might feel for her as deeply as she cared for him, she knew it would make their parting even more difficult to bear.  “So, the car?”

Hugh
shrugged with a disappointed sigh.  “I watched ye well enough tae hae the gist of it.  I ken where tae shift tae gae forward and tae stop.  Right pedal gae, left pedal stop.  Stay tae the right of the line.  Nae too hard.”

“What about the lights?” Claire reminded.  “There will be some between here and town.”

“Gae on green.  Stop if it’s already red when ye get there.”

Claire rolled her eyes at that but it was close enough for their short trip.  “What about yellow?”

His brow furrowed once more as Hugh thought about it.  “That’s a good question.  I cannae see that it made any difference tae anyone along the way.”

“It means get ready to stop.”

That only deepened his frown.  “Are ye sure?  That’s nae the impression I got at all.”

Biting her lip to cut off a smile, Claire only said, “You’ll
just have to trust me on that one.  Stay close behind me.  If you lose me just pull over and I’ll come back, okay?”  Hugh nodded and Claire handed him half of the money Danny had given her.  “When we get to the depot, you pull in to the boarding lanes and load the car where they point.  Don’t forget to put it in park before you turn it off.  I’ll walk on and meet you on the front deck after I ditch poor Goose.”

They left the house
, and in the end, Hugh probably drove better than Claire, since she spent the entire journey watching him in the rearview mirror.  They reached the ferry station without incident and Claire pulled along the left side of the parking lot to park Goose as far as she could from the station.  She would have to abandon her trusty vehicle there, far from Robert and Sue’s.  Hopefully it would be enough to save them and maybe even her when it was eventually found.

Or, m
aybe that wouldn’t even happen and she would return to find it still there.  Claire wasn’t certain either way.  Popping the catch on the hood, Claire got out and moved to the front of the Prius to lift the hood.  It had occurred to her along the way that an excuse for leaving it was better than none at all.  A breakdown was what she needed—just in case, of course—and she had learned enough from her dad and Matt what to look for in case she ever had car problems to create a few for herself.

Claire
loosened the bolt off the battery cell and, satisfied with the damage she had done, was just about to slam the hood shut when a deep voice uttered, “Hold it right there.”

Heart in her
throat, Claire turned to find a thickly built man standing next to a black suburban that had pulled in behind her car.  Another taller but thinner man was getting out of the driver’s side.  Both wore the same government-issued black suit as the agent who had nearly caught her the preceding afternoon.

They had found her!  Damn, how had that happened?  Had they seen her pull in?  Had they seen Hugh?  Did they have him already? 

Damn, damn, damn!  Forcing back the rush of panic, Claire thought of Hugh, who seemed the embodiment of calm in a crisis.  If he could do it, surely she could do the same.

“Either of you guys good with cars?” she asked
with studied indifference.  She leaned back over the engine and poked idiotically at the parts.  “My car broke down.”

The two men exchanged puzzled looks before one asked, “Claire Manning?”

Could they hear her heart pounding in her chest, Claire wondered?  No doubt they could see it.  She frowned and decided to play dumb … or dumber, as it were.  “I’m sorry, do I know you?  Riley Cooper, is that you?”

“We’re federal agents, ma’am,” the driver said
as he came around the suburban to join the other agent.  Together they moved slowly toward her.  “Would you come with us, please?”

“Oh no,” she said
insipidly, coming around the side of the car, surreptitiously scanning the area and wondering if she should make a run for it.  “I couldn’t do that.  I mean, I don’t know either one of you, and a girl has to be careful these days, you know?”

Her dismissive response gave the men pause. 
“We’re federal agents, ma’am,” the driver repeated with clear frustration.

“Are you really
?” Claire asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice as the pair came ever closer.  In just a moment more they would be able to physically retain her despite her weak protests.  She looked them up and down, trying to size them up.  Years of kickboxing had given her the potential to defend herself, but could she take them both on?

One agent nudged the other and they reached into their jackets.  “We have ID, ma’am.”  They held them up in unison.

“Not very impressive,” Claire sniffed as she examined their badges.  “They could be faked.”

A blur of motion caught the corner of her eye and before she could even blink, Hugh sw
ept in, taking the driver down with a hard hit behind his knees with what looked like a short tree limb.  Hugh wielded it like a sword, swinging it around to catch the second agent on the side of the head.

Down he went, but the
first agent was struggling to his feet as he shot a flabbergasted look at Claire, who only shrugged.  “See?  Now that’s impressive.”

The broom handle caught the agent behind his knees again and the man hit the ground hard before Hugh brought the end of the branch down on his chest.  If it had been a Scottish claymore, the agent would have been skewered to the ground but instead all four of the man’s limbs bounced into the air before falling lifelessly to the ground.

Hugh looked at Claire
, looking more wild and untamed than she had ever seen him. His eyes were almost black with rage, his brow furrowed and his nostrils flaring as he looked down at the agent once more with a curl to his lip. Picturing him in his kilt, the wooden pole a sword, Claire couldn’t imagine a more magnificent picture.

Hugh looked down at the man cowering at his feet with some disgust.  These feeble men were the authorities they had feared encountering?  They were no more threatening than a gnat, and put up about as much a fight.  How had this time ever reached such amazing heights with men such as these to defend it?  Hugh spat on the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

Pitiful.

He looked at Claire, finding her wide-eyed but unafraid.  “Did they hurt you?”

“No
… watch out!” Claire cried, pointing behind him, and Hugh turned to find the agent he had hit upside the head rolling to his side with a pistol in his hand. It was smaller than the flintlock pistols of his time but perhaps more deadly.  Hugh whipped the piece of wood around once again, catching the man across the hand and sending the pistol skittering across the parking lot.

Disarmed
, the man staggered to his feet, watching Hugh warily before glancing at his partner.  “Don’t worry, your friend ain’t dead, but you will be if you don’t leave this woman alone,” Hugh threatened in a flat, accentless voice.   No southern boy this time, just an average Joe.

“This is none of your business, pal,” the agent said, holding out a palm toward Hugh a
s if that could hold him off. “Listen, I don’t want to hurt you but I am taking this woman with me.”

Hugh’s brow went up as he sized up his opponent.  The fellow was large but likely more flab than muscle and he didn’t seem to
Hugh to be much of a threat.  Hugh tossed the stick to the side and beckoned his opponent forward with a wave of his hand.  “You’re welcome to try.”

And
despite the blood trickling down his temple, the agent apparently felt the need to.  “I’m gonna kick your ass, man!”  He came at Hugh, turning his body along the way and swinging out a leg, which Hugh deflected easily, throwing the man off balance.  The agent came at him again with more exaggerated kicks and arms swinging, and Hugh thought a child could see the punches coming.  Spinning about, the agent tried to kick again, and Hugh caught his foot and twisted sharply, sending the man to the ground.

Panting, the agent leapt to his feet and came at Hugh more directly, this time swinging like a man, or at least a strapping youth
, though his efforts were still laughable.  Hugh’s fist shot out, catching the man hard in the stomach and again under the jaw while deflecting a dozen wildly thrown punches easily.  It was ridiculous, really.  Sneering at the agent, Hugh asked, “Are you not even going to make it a challenge for me?”

With a mighty swing, Hugh caught the agent under
the jaw and sent him down on one knee.  “What are you, special ops?” the agent asked with a gasp of pain. 

“SEAL
,” Hugh said, throwing himself forward to head-butt the agent and sending him sprawling to the ground, unconscious, before looking up at Sorcha, shaking his head in disgust.  “The braggarts in this world, Sorcha!  Is there nae one who can put up a worthy fight?”

“
I don’t know.  Are you planning on testing them one by one?” Claire admonished, though she was anxiously scanning Hugh for injury as he backed away from the fallen agent.  She denied the impulse to fling herself into his arms like a damsel saved from the dragon.  “We are on the clock, you know.”

“Thought I might let him get in a few punches before I put him down.”

“He didn’t need a feel-good moment, Hugh,” she said, shaking her head with wonder.  “But you’re right, normally the bad guy does get in a couple good punches before the good guy knocks him out.”

Hugh grinned as well
, pulling her into his embrace.  “Am I the good guy?”

“Mmm, very good.
” Claire said, giving in to the urge to hug him tightly.  “You’re my hero.”

Hugh snorted at that but looked pleased nonetheless.

“Where did you learn to head-butt like that?”

Hugh smiled.  “Keir.  Did ye think it was something new?”

“I guess I did,” she said with a grin.  “Did you have SEALs as well?”

“Nae, I read about them in
the
TIME
magazine,” he said, his heart warming under her praise and enchanting smile.