Highland Shift (Highland Destiny: 1) (2 page)

Faolan was a powerfully sexual man. Everything about him set her hormones on fire. Her body and mind had disengaged from each other, and her body wanted to touch him, pet him,
taste him. Elena had learned that lesson the hard way, and it wasn’t going to happen again. Good-looking, arrogant men like Faolan were never interested in the real Elena, there would always be a catch. Her body would just have to back the hell down; her head was in control now.

Determined to prove just how in control she was, Elena decided to risk some small talk. She took a deep breath to relieve the tension, turned toward Faolan, and was surprised to find him staring intently at her. Elena had always wondered why people needed to gather their wits about them, but now she knew. Wits could indeed be scattered. She spent a moment gathering hers and wondering why he watched her so closely.

In her hesitation, Faolan made the first conversational strike. “What brings you to Scotland, lass? Where are you headed?”

“
Uhm.” That was clever. Try again. She cleared her throat. “I’m moving here. I just purchased a home, north of Inverness, and I’m on my way there.” She was relieved to notice that she sounded better, more like the confident woman she knew herself to be.

Faolan seemed politely interested, “How did you decide on Inverness? Do you have family here? Or is your man from here?”

Elena sighed. “It’s a long story, but no, I have no family or a man. I haven’t seen the house yet. It’s supposed to be a small farmhouse on the outskirts of a tiny village north of Inverness. It was part of a legal settlement.”

“A legal settlement?” Elena ignored the opportunity to explain; she wasn’t reliving that story with this man. As she searched for a safer topic, she belatedly remembered his comments to the attendant. He’d said, “It was a matter of life or death.” Maybe it hadn’t all been arrogance; he could have a loved one seriously hurt somewhere. She wondered if he wanted to talk about it.

“I don’t mean to pry, but I heard you at the counter. You seemed adamant about getting on this flight. I hope everything is all right with your family?”

His jaw tightened, and he turned his head away. He looked livid for a minute, and Elena was glad that she wasn’t the focus of his anger. Then as suddenly as the fury appeared, it left him with a sigh. “Nay, lass, nothing will ever be right again. I have no family,” he said with a voice full of sadness.

“I’m sorry,” Elena offered, not sure of how else to respond. She returned to looking out the window in order to give him some privacy. She knew what it was like to be alone in this world, to have your dreams ripped out from under you, to feel as though nothing would ever be right again. 

After a moment, Faolan changed the subject. “How are you planning on getting to the Highlands?”

Elena jumped at the chance to ease away from topics that were more personal in nature. “I leased a Land Rover,” Elena continued, trying to keep the subject light, “I made a reservation at the Hilton in Inverness for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll drive to Fairth.”

They continued to chat about inconsequential things and discovered they had very little in common. She told him she was an attorney; he said he dabbled in investments. She liked sports; he didn’t. This was her first trip abroad; he was
well-traveled. Soon the flight attendant returned to tell them to prepare for landing. Although Elena had enjoyed their brief conversation, she would be relieved to get away from him. From his sheer physical size to his long brooding glances, everything about him was too intense. It had only been a few short months since her break up with Marty, and Faolan was exactly the type of man she had sworn off for life: great looking, seriously confident with a tangible air of entitlement. Definitely not her cup of tea.

“I’m a little curious,” said Elena as they stood in the aisle waiting to exit the plane. “How did you manage to get on the flight? I thought it was full.”

She looked up and stifled a gasp. Despite being a foot taller than she was, he towered over her; his face much closer than she expected because of the cabin’s low ceiling. His look was positively dangerous, and his tawny eyes turned dark as he scowled. Their gazes locked for a minute, the air doing that strange burning thing around them again, just as it had done in the terminal. He bared his teeth in a tight, wolfish imitation of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I always get what I want. Eventually.”

Elena spent a few minutes familiarizing herself with the controls and getting used to sitting on the wrong side of her new SUV. She expected the already dismal driving conditions would only worsen before she reached the Highlands. She turned on the wipers and lights against the persistent mist. She reviewed her route,
then struggled to refold the map, wishing she’d gotten a GPS instead.

Lost in her preparations, she nearly screamed when the passenger door was suddenly wrenched open, and Faolan climbed inside. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of a sheathed dagger hanging at his waist. His hair had come loose, and he dripped rainwater and danger in equal measure. “Drive,” he growled.

“Get out of my car,” Elena instinctively snapped back, not thinking of the possible consequences. “Get. Out. Now.”

Faolan roared, much like an injured wild animal. Through clenched teeth he gritted, “Drive now! Pull out and turn right. You will be safe enough, if you will only just shut up and start driving now!”

Remembering his size and thinking of the knife, Elena stomped on the gas pedal a bit harder than she intended. “You bastard,” she spat out between clenched teeth. She was just building toward a blistering tirade against all arrogant men when she noticed he was clutching his right side. Blood seeped between his fingers.

“You’ve been hurt. What happened?” Steering with one hand, she reached to get the map from the console, “Where’s the closest hospital? You can get out there!”

Faolan grabbed her, his hand a steel vice around her wrist. “I will heal. ‘tis not too serious. But tell me, lass, who is trying to kill you?”

“Kill me? No one is trying to kill me,” Elena said, hating that her voice shook with rage. “The only danger I’m in is from the lunatic who jumped into my car and kidnapped me.”

“As long as you drive where I tell you, you are in no danger from me,” Faolan said, but his eyes and his knife gave lie to his words.

With as few words as possible, he directed her out of Edinburgh and toward Inverness. Once on the main road, she watched while he used a clean shirt and rain from the lowered window to clean his hands and dress his wound. It looked as though the worst of the bleeding was over; in fact, he seemed to be healing remarkably quickly.

Elena had no idea where he was really taking her, but at least they were headed in the general direction she wanted to go. With a quick mental inventory, she realized she wasn’t particularly afraid. No sweating palms, no racing pulse. In a weird way, the fact that she wasn’t cowering behind the wheel was comforting. She didn’t know why he’d kidnapped her or what he hoped to gain, but she was somehow confident he wouldn’t hurt her. It was something in the way he looked at her, as though he knew her already.

As she thought over the circumstances, she realized her options were limited. She certainly wasn’t going to overpower or outrun him. They’d seemed to get on well enough on the plane, maybe she could convince him to let her go. If she could just be nice enough, get him talking about himself, she might learn something to use as leverage.

“Why the hell are you doing this? You barged your way onto the plane and now into my car. What do you want?” Then Elena sighed. So much for being nice. Her brain-to-mouth syndrome was in overdrive.

Faolan inhaled sharply but continued his stony silence.

She knew she’d better try that bonding conversation again, so Elena searched for a safer topic. Deciding that talking about the weather was too mundane, she pelted him with questions. His taciturn responses did nothing to curb her growing enthusiasm for the landscape. After a while, she’d nearly forgotten the precariousness of her situation.

Faolan finally said, “
Och, lass, do you never be still? Enough with your constant havering!”

“Fine I won’t say another word,” Elena said. She maintained a ridiculous sort of silence, starting and stopping herself from speaking countless times.

After several minutes, it seemed Faolan had enough of her version of quiet. “What is the real reason you came to Scotland, Elena MacFarland?” he said, his voice a throaty growl.

Elena hesitated, but realized he might have more sympathy for her if she told him something. “It’s not a story I usually share,” she haltingly began. “My mother was killed crossing the street when I was four, so I went to live with my
Grandda MacFarland. I was thirteen when he died, and we didn’t have anyone else. There was no chance of adoption as a teenager. Everyone wants the babies. Instead, I bounced between foster homes, moving every few months until I was old enough to live on my own.”

There was a long pause while he appeared to think over what she’d told him. Then he thrust directly at the heart of things, “You still didna answer my question. Why are you here? Why are you not in Phoenix practicing law?”

“I didn’t tell you I was from Phoenix. I said Arizona,” Elena said sharply.

“
Och, lass, doona’ be so prickly. I merely said Phoenix because ‘tis the only city I know in Arizona. Why not answer my question? Why would you move to Scotia?”

Scotia, he’d said, just like her
Grandda. Elena’s eyes misted, and her throat tightened. “It’s a long story,” she said tensely. That really was something she didn’t plan to share with anyone. Over was over.

“Why not tell me why you’re here?” he asked gently, as though he cared. “We still have a ways yet to go together.”

****

Elena opened her door to the last person she expected to see on a Saturday morning: her boss and future father-in-law. Mr. Martin J. Worthington, III. If Marty was gold on sunshine, his father was silver on ice. He brushed past her and went straight to the dining room to set his briefcase on the table. He turned to look at her, disapproval for the casual way she was dressed was all over his face.

“I wish to offer my congratulations on your successful passing of the bar exam.” He handed her a thick envelope that had clearly already been opened.

Her thoughts were whirling, but she kept her head down and quickly scanned the letter. She mentally skipped the happy dance, wondering at the real purpose of his visit.

Worthington reached into his briefcase and removed a sheaf of papers with a light blue outer cover. He examined Elena’s face before referring to the document in his hand. “Martin J. Worthington, IV, declares he no longer wishes to maintain any relationship with you. As of today’s date, he dissolves any formal or informal agreement with Elena MacFarland, to be engaged to be married, to wed, or to be considered as partners in any form of the word. You are to cease and desist any attempt to contact Martin J. Worthington, IV, any of his family members, or acquaintances. He thanks you for all of the assistance you provided in helping him to accomplish his goal of becoming an attorney. He hopes that the relationship was mutually beneficial and reminds you that you were allowed to live rent free and of the clothes and jewelry that you received.”

She felt the slow burn of humiliation as it crept up from the center of her being. There was no doubt in her mind that Marty’s father was telling the truth. Like
father, like son, the arrogant bastards. She was surprised to realize she was relieved to have the fairy tale over. That didn’t mean she was going to make it painless for either of them. To hurt a Worthington, you just needed to know what was most important and take it away.

Money!

“I see. Thank you, Martin, for making Marty’s position perfectly clear. I wonder if you would speak as to your position in all of this,” Elena said coolly.

Martin glanced up at her, then deliberately dropped his eyes to her bare feet and raked them slowly up her body. His steely gaze lingering on her breasts, he asked, “What did you have in mind Ms. MacFarland?”

“Oh dear, Martin. You seemed to have misunderstood my question.” Elena smiled, a feral cat on the hunt. “I am under contract for the next two years with Worthington, Tyler, and Walters. Aren’t you concerned with any awkwardness in the office?”

“You dare presume, Ms. MacFarland, that you are still employed?” Worthington gave a delicate snort, “Allow me to present you with an order of eviction and a restraining order preventing you from contacting my son, any member of our family, or any member of the law firm ever again. If you have any personal belongings at the office, you may call my assistant to have them delivered to your new place of residence. You have one week to vacate these premises, and I no longer expect to see you anywhere, especially not in the office.”

With that, he handed her the documents, closed his case, and prepared to leave.

“That’s an interesting opening argument, Martin. Let’s think this through a minute, shall we? I have a perfectly valid contract, which guarantees my employment for a period of two years, providing I successfully pass the bar, which I did.

“I work for the firm, not for you personally, and the policies of the firm, as well as all Equal Opportunity laws apply to my situation. This leaves me entitled to my full two years of pay, plus the signing bonuses.