Highlander's Challenge (20 page)

His thumbs danced lightly across her damp lips then he pulled away. Setting his teeth, he glared down at his cousin.

"I've heard enough of your talk. Be off with you."

"But Colin—"

"Out!" He shoved her toward the door, wishing he were shoving her out of the castle once and for all, but she was family. She'd tried to heal his father, and though he would not fault her in failing, he couldn't bear to hear her disparage Amelia's success.

Maighread ran into the corridor, her face red with rage. Perhaps if he was lucky, she would leave him be for a time. His eyes lit on Amelia for the span of a heartbeat then he quickly stepped to his father's bedside. "I'm pleased tae see 189

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you so well, Da," he said. Hating the slightly tearful tone of his voice, he roughly cleared his throat. His father looked at him with a solemn smile and clear eyes that held a bit of teasing sparkle. "I'm glad tae see you, lad. Sit and speak with me a while." With a nod, Colin retrieved a chair from across the room. Elspeth took Amelia by the arm and guided her to the door.

"Wait," Colin said.

Amelia paused at the threshold and looked back at him, her mask quickly falling into place.

"Thank you," he said with a small smile. She nodded faintly and left.

He jerked his gaze away from where she'd disappeared, determined to put her from his mind. He had to be strong for his father and for the clan. Amelia Tucker was not a woman he could bed and easily walk away from. And he would have to, if his father still intended for him to wed Aileen. 190

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Staring up at the canopy over her bed, Tuck tried to shove thoughts of MacLean and his kisses aside. It didn't do any good to think about him, to want him. But she couldn't stop herself.

She bolted up from the bed and paced furiously, ticking the events off on her fingers. The first kiss was a control thing. It was the only answer she could come up with. The man could barely tolerate her. She'd been in similar struggles before. This wasn't anything new.

She paused in mid-pace. Those old power plays in the army never included kisses that made her see things in triplicate, all hazy with stars around them. He'd seemed to genuinely enjoy it as well.

A delicious shudder ran through her with the memory.

"Damn, I'm a mess," she said, slapping her hands against the far wall. She rested her forehead against her arm and absently noticed her wrist didn't hurt any longer. How could he want her, of all people?
Why
would he want her? She shook her head. Nope, it wasn't possible. She was just trying to rationalize his kiss, make it into what she wanted.

She paused, leaning back against the cool stone. "But there was that second kiss," she murmured, as she unwrapped her bandage.

"No, that was in thanks." She sighed, tossing the wrappings into a chair. He was overcome with joy. Who wouldn't be? She'd pretty much saved his father's life. 191

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Nothing wrong with a kiss. People often hugged and kissed their doctors when there was what seemed to them to be a miracle.

Tuck pushed off from the wall and paced back to the bed.

"Okay, so a thank you kiss doesn't usually include tongue action." But she hadn't minded. Heck, she'd participated!

Flopping down onto the bed, she resumed her perusal of the canopy. No use in denying it, she had it bad for Colin MacLean, a man who believed women should be soft and yielding, and do what they were told. A couple of stolen kisses, a brush of his fingers against her cheek, were nothing in the scheme of things. Even if he did want her the tiniest bit, she wasn't a highborn lady with all the proper manners and whatnot, and she absolutely refused to give him the kind of power men demanded. She would retain control of her life, her future, and her body, handsome Highlander be damned. There was a knock at the door.

Climbing to her feet, she called, "Come in."

"Good afternoon, dear heart," Ian said, strolling into the room.

Tuck planted her fists on her hips. "So, you've finally decided to get out of bed."

"I am much improved, thanks to your skillful hand. And since you refuse to fuss over me any longer, what choice did I have?"

She chuckled and shook her head. He'd been able to get out of bed for some time, but refused to do so. It wasn't long before she realized Ian was using her daily visits to his room to try and convince her to train the men. And she, sadly, had 192

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been using them as an excuse to get a closer look at Colin while he worked in the lists from Ian's window. Oh, she was definitely in deep.

"But more importantly," Ian continued. "I've come to inform you that you are no longer under guard." Crossing her arms, she smirked. "The ogre has decided to let me off my leash? Why do I find that hard to believe?" He smiled, his eyes bright with a roguish gleam. "Our illustrious host has had, shall we say, a change of heart."

"Want to tell me how you pulled that one off?"

"I did not, my lady. You did by saving his father's life. He is in your debt, as am I," he said with a graceful bow. Her arms fell limply by her sides. MacLean trusted her. A smile, a really big smile, built up inside her, struggling to get past the muck and mire she'd known her entire life. It blossomed slowly, and not quite fully, but it warmed her from the tips of her hiking boots to the top of her curly hair. It wasn't much in the way of what her heart and body kept whispering, but it was one of the best things to happen to her in a long time. Silly as it sounded, she wanted his trust and respect as much as she wanted the man. Perhaps there was a chance to have it all, to have him, without giving up control. Was it possible? Could she tone down her rather loud and often forceful opinions?

Her gaze strayed to the trunk where Elspeth had neatly folded her one and only borrowed dress. Could she be like other women he knew, be a woman he could really want?

"I see your wrist has healed," Ian said, taking her hand. 193

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She held her surge of hope and excitement inside as she pulled from Ian's gentle grasp. "My wrist is fine, thank you."

"Then shall we go for a stroll before we sup? 'Tis a lovely evening, and I yearn to see your hair catch the sunlight before it sets."

"Give me five and I'll be right with you." His brow furrowed, but he seemed to get the general idea and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. With a smile Tuck rushed to the trunk, stripping along the way. After some serious huffing and puffing, she wriggled into her feminine battle gear. She even set aside her beloved hiking boots for the quaint leather slippers. Her knife, however, she would not go without and strapped it to her thigh.

She practiced walking across the room, and giggled softly. Although her feet were decidedly colder, she felt almost graceful. She ran her hand over her skirt and took a deep breath. Elspeth and Fiona were going to drop their jaws on the spot, but what would MacLean think?

Only one way to find out. She flung open the door to go in search of her handsome escort, but didn't get far. He was patiently waiting, leaning against the wall across from her chamber door.

Ian straightened, grinning broadly. "You are the most fetching creature on the earth. I shall be most envied this eve."

Laughing, she took his proffered arm, realizing she'd never done anything like it before. Then she'd never been treated like a woman before on such a grand scale. 194

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"You never give up, do you? Always the ladies' man," she teased, but thoroughly enjoyed his comments.

"I cannot change who I am, my dear." Her heart headed south on an icy slide. "No. You can't, can you?"

She kept her mouth from turning down into a scowl as they walked the battlements. A pretty dress wasn't going to change who she was on the inside, a hardened soldier. Not a woman of the soft and yielding variety, the sort who never thought for herself. She would never be like that. The sunset was magnificent, but neither it, nor Ian's continued flattery, although sweet and genuine, could bring back the buoyancy she'd had. She wasn't right for Colin MacLean. She wasn't right for anyone.

Elspeth bustled up beside her as they stepped off the stairs into the great hall. "There you are, lass. I was beginning tae worry over you." She patted Tuck's hand and winked. "You look lovely, dear."

Tuck never turned away from a challenge, not when she'd set her sights on a goal, no matter how badly the odds were against her, but she fervently wished she'd gone back to her room and changed. Losing tasted bad enough without having her strategy exposed like a freshly filleted salmon. Elspeth took her place near MacLean while Tuck and Ian followed. She lifted her gaze and found Colin watching her, appraising her, and apparently not finding her lacking. Or had he ascertained her stupid plans as well?

Tuck tilted her head and returned his intense perusal, determined not to let him see how embarrassed she was by 195

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her foolishness. As Colin's gaze roamed over her body, thoughts of plans, strategies, and failures fled from her mind. A wonderful tingling sensation ran across her skin, and her imagination quickly slid into gear, conjuring up the feel of his rough hands and the unexpected gentleness of his touch. Maighread stepped between them, breaking the heated connection. Tuck quickly took her seat, hoping no one had noticed her making an ass of herself. Somehow, she had to get a grip on these crazy urges. Her little war was over, she'd lost before she had a chance to really begin. It was time to move on.

An irritating whine crawled up her back like a spider. Maighread was doing her best to get back into MacLean's good graces. Tuck could barely stomach all the purring and obvious sexual promises the woman was making. Never in her life had she indulged in a fight over a man, but she yearned to tear into the little witch. Her fingers clutched her skirts tightly beneath the table, her silent lecture on giving up quickly forgotten.

Ian cleared his throat, pulling her attention away from Maighread. His gaze was fixed on her thigh where she fondled her knife. A slightly lascivious gleam sparkled in his eye. She hadn't realized she'd hiked her skirt high enough so she could pull it out in case she needed to use it—or wanted to use it. God, she was pathetic.

Tuck moved her hand to her hip and cocked her head at Ian as he continued to stare at her leg, doing her best to forget about MacLean and Maighread.

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Ian cleared his throat and blinked a time or two. "My apologies, dear heart. Your, um, weapon and the way in which you, uh, wear it, is most fascinating." She grinned as he fidgeted in his seat. "I can't believe it. You're blushing." Ian Southernland, rogue extraordinaire, was blushing from catching a glimpse of her thigh.

"Nonsense," he sputtered. "I have had too much excitement so soon after my injury. Yes. Yes, of course. I've over extended myself this evening."

Leaning toward him, she peered at his face closely.

"Nope." With a chuckle, she poked his cheek with the tip of her finger. "That's a blush if I ever saw one." He leaned away from her, but she wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. Because of him, she'd experienced one of the most wonderful sensations in her life. She felt attractive, pretty ... wanted, on a small but significant scale. She kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Ian. That's probably the nicest compliment I've ever had." He looked at her solemnly. "You are most welcome." A slow smile spread across his face. "But if you wish for me to retain my head, I suggest you not bestow your thanks on me in such a manner again." He motioned with his head across the table.

Confused, she turned and found MacLean glaring at them. The fire in his eyes burned hot enough to warm her cheeks and every other part of her anatomy. But what did it mean?

Colin growled softly and lowered his gaze. She was free to kiss whomever she pleased. It was none of his affair. He was betrothed, or would be once his father received word from the 197

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MacKenzie. Aileen was said to be quite fair. Some rumored she was part fey, which he dismissed off hand, but a pleasing face was not too much to ask.

He glanced at Amelia from beneath his brows. Her red ringlets danced around her face as she shook her head with a winsome smile at something Ian said. It was enough to sour his stomach.

"Is your supper not tae your liking, dear?" Elspeth asked. He grunted and shoveled a bit of meat into his mouth. Women. Why did he have to be plagued by women?

Elspeth, Maighread, and
her
.

He missed the simplicity his life once had. He knew who he was, what his future would hold, and had no qualms about it. Now, however, he no longer found comfort in the thought. Amelia's throaty chuckle mixed with Ian's hearty laugh gripped him fiercely. What did they have to be so bleedin'

happy about?

He rose abruptly and made his way to the solar. Slamming through the door, he strode to the large window overlooking the sound and firmly crossed his arms.

Ian had managed to win a semblance of a smile from her, a real one, damn him. Not one of those smug grins she often gave him, or that look she had when she called him odd names. She'd kissed the man, too, albeit chastely on the cheek.

Had she also blessed his friend with the same passionate exchange they'd shared? Not time nor barrels of well-aged whiskey could wipe the taste of her from his mouth. Kissing 198

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her again had only increased his appetite for what he could not have.

"My, what a fine e'en," Elspeth said, as she stole into the room.

He grunted a response, too weary for words, as she took her customary place near the fire and retrieved her stitchery. Perhaps he would find some peace this night. Perhaps he could contain his lust for the woman, for that was all it was. He could not care for her. He could not care for any woman. Laughter shattered the silence.