Lord of the Isles: International Billionaires VIII: The Scots

by Caro LaFever

Why was she sighing? Did she not like what he’d done for Somairie while she’d been gone? “Plans that include ye,” he stated with force, willing her to like his plans, willing her to accept him.

  “Because now, there’s a baby.” Her pretty mouth drooped.

  His frustration escalated, his blood roaring in his veins. If he couldn’t convince her, he’d lose her and lose any hope of happiness for the rest of his life. “My plans included ye long before I knew about the baby.”

  “What?” Her head bobbed up. “What do you mean?”

  “Why do ye think I had your da lure ye back to Somairie?”

  “Had my dad lure…” she stuttered to a stop, her wide eyes pinned on his.

  He finally let her go, placing her gently on the stone bridge’s edge because he was sure he’d caught her attention and she wouldn’t run off until he’d had his say. “I had him get ye here so I could show ye what I aim to be.”

  “You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

  “I do.” He brushed her cheek with a trembling finger. “I know you’re reluctant to take the hand of an ex-drunk beast of a man.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “Still, I aim to prove to ye I’m more than that.”

  “Iain.” She trailed her fingers down his arm to his hand and for the first time, her touch was one of a lover, not a friend or an enemy.

  His heart chugged into a rapid beat.

  “I knew you were more than that the very first time I came to the castle,” she added.

  “Then I’m asking ye to take a chance on me.” He caught her hand before she could withdraw.

  “Take a chance on you?” Her fingers curled into her palm, not threading through his as he wanted. “Because of the baby?”

  “Naw.” He struggled to find the right words. “Because of us.”

  Her delicate brows furrowed. “The baby—”

  "Dammit.” Frustration and fear and ugly doubt raged inside him like a dolster. “This has nothing to do with the baby. Didn’t ye notice I was on my knees for ye before I knew about the baby?”

  “That’s not true.” Her expression turned truculent. “My dad told you this evening and that’s why you proposed.”

  “I just happened to have a fucking engagement ring in my pocket?” he bellowed at her stubborn intractability. “Is that what ye think?”

  She didn’t retreat in the face of his wrath. Which was why he needed her, needed her at his side for the length of his life. Someone who stood by him, and up to him, and for him. Only she had ever done that.

  “Think, Lil.” He leaned closer, focused intently on her puzzled face. “Do ye really imagine I had a ring ready to go?”

  Her frown deepened. “Your family has jewels. Lots of them. I remember your dad talking about them.”

  “Do ye think I’d choose an old ring from my antiques for ye?” Indignant, he lurched back and glared at her. “For ye?”

  “For me?” A soft, hesitant wonder filled her expression.

  He latched on to her look with the last of his hope. “Not ever, lass, would I do that. I chose something special for ye.”

  “Something special?” She peeked at the pocket that bulged with the ring. Curiosity shone in her sea-green eyes, and his hope ratcheted sky-high.

  “I did choose something special for ye.” He reached for the box, wanting to strike when he thought he had a chance.

  Doubt crowded onto her face, making his hand still in his pocket. “I know my dad told you. I’m sure of it because when I accused him the castle, he didn’t tell me he hadn’t. And my dad isn’t a good liar.”

  You told him, she’d screamed at her da not half an hour ago.

  You told him.

  Understanding cooled his frustration and he took a couple of steps away to let himself gather his wits. “Ye didn’t give him much of a chance, lovely Lilly. Yelling and running away before he could say a thing, isn’t likely to get ye to the truth.”

  “The truth is,” she folded her arms, “I didn’t hear a word about an engagement until my dad knew about the baby.”

  He stalked to stand right in front of her, looming over to make sure she got the message. “Let me say it one more time.”

  All he got was a humph.

  “Your da told me nothing about the baby.”

  Her mouth tightened and her gaze narrowed.

  “I didn’t know about the baby until I had ye in my arms on this very bridge.”

  “I don’t believe—”

  “Believe me.” He stared at her, willing her to take him and his word. “It’s true.”

  Lilly stared back at her love, her heart twisting in agonized indecision, her brain whirling inside her head.

  Should she take this chance?

  This awful, amazing chance?

  “Come on, lass,” Iain crooned, his beautiful mouth going sultry, though his eyes stayed wide open and keen. “Ye are one for taking chances, aren’t ye?”

  “Sometimes.” Her nails bit into her palms. “But I have to be careful.”

  “Careful?” He stilled, his lips growing tight. “Careful around me?”

  “Not the way you mean.” She shook her head before standing and moving away from him to peer out at the calm sea. “I have to think about what’s best for the baby now. Not only what I want or need.”

  “Are ye saying I’m not what’s best for our baby?” Outrage filled his voice.

  “No, no.” Whipping around, she grabbed onto his arm, tightening her fingers until his wild eyes came back to meet hers. “I couldn’t have picked a better man to be the father of my baby.”

  “Our baby.” His gaze went fierce.

  “Yes, our baby.” The reality set in. No matter what she decided was best, this man would always be a part of her and her baby’s life. Yet, she still worried this passion he exhibited was more about manning up and taking responsibility rather than a true love for her. She couldn’t stand to think of living with him when he realized he was tied down by ropes of duty, not love. Twisting away from him, she went back to looking at the rolling waves of his sea. “I want to be sure I make a decision based on something more than what I need and want.”

  “So you’re saying ye want and need me.” His words drifted to her, soft and tentative.

  “Yes.” She glanced over her shoulder, giving him a wry smile. “I don’t think that’s ever been the question.”

  “Plus, you’ve told me before ye consider us friends.”

  “We are.” Placing her hands on the rough stones of his heritage, she leaned over and stared into the stream running under his bridge. “It happened fast, but we became friends.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem.”

  “What?”

  “Maybe this has happened a wee bit fast for ye.”

  “This.” She smoothed her hands across the ancient bridge. “What is this?”

  He came up behind her, his chest riding her back, placing his nicked hands on the stones by hers. “This is falling in love, finding your place.”

  Falling in love.

  Finding your place.

  She wanted to believe him. She wanted to take him and his place and make them her own.

  “Even if it happened fast, it’s happened.” He drew closer, his breath whispering across her cheek. “There’s no denying that.”

  But it was her responsibility to deny it if she needed to protect him from himself. She knew this man. Knew he’d do just about anything and everything to claim his baby. Including claiming a love he didn’t feel or perhaps convincing himself he did to make sure he held to his responsibilities.

  What would happen to them, when he realized that in the frenzy of the moment, he’d expressed a love that wasn’t really there at all?

  What would happen to her heart?

  “Lilly.” He snuffled into her curls, poking his nose into her ear, letting his mouth smooth along the skin of her neck. “I’m not lying. Your da told me nothing.”

  The McPherson wasn’t
a liar. He’d never lied to her once. Or to anyone else, either, that she could remember.

  Her soul shook, as a seed of belief dropped into the center of her heart.

  “I’m not the best there is out there,” he murmured. “I aim to be though. For ye.”

  She couldn’t let this statement pass. Turning, she placed her hands on his chest and stared at him. “You are the best. You always have been and you are right now.”

  Something old and ugly flashed in his eyes. Something of his past he hadn’t banished yet and perhaps never would. “Not true.”

  “For goodness—”

  “Counseling has helped me, however.” He straightened his shoulders, his mouth firming. “I’ve accepted what I did and I’m a fair way along to forgiving myself.”

  “Forgiving yourself? For what?”

  His gaze swerved to his castle and the line of those broad shoulders went taut.

  I should have listened.

  Why didn’t I listen?

  His nightmare words rushed back to her. Reaching for him, she snaked her fingers through his. “Tell me.”

  If he told her this, this horrible secret that had scarred him, then she’d believe him about his love for her. Because a man didn’t share his deepest, worst memories with someone he didn’t trust, someone he didn’t love.

  Staring at her, his straight brows furrowed. “Telling the love of your life the worst of yourself is not the way to win her hand.”

  “It actually is.” She cocked her head, a light tease in her voice to coax him on. “Tell me.”

  He sighed, a gusty, resigned sound. His eyes still held ugly, yet his hand was relaxed and slack in hers.

  He had gotten better. She was so proud of him.

  “Ye won’t be proud of what I did.”

  “But I’ll always be proud of you.”

  “Ah, Lil.” He hung his head, and she could see the beginning of those messy curls in the line of hair along his ears. “What ye do to me.”

  He was going to tell her, she knew it. The seed poked out of the midst of her heart, hoping and yearning for what she’d only dreamed of a few months ago.

  “Come on, McPherson,” she prodded. “You can do it.”

  “Okay.” He looked right at her, letting her see straight through him. “We were told to go door to door to secure the town.”

  “We?”

  “My men and I.” He shifted on his feet, yet didn’t break his gaze. “I was in charge.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  The edge of his mouth curled and his ability to be amused during this moment gave her so much pleasure she almost wept again. The seed bloomed in her soul, spreading its petals through her body until she felt filled by it and her love for him. “Keep going.”

  “We came to a block of buildings we needed to lock down before the rest of the troops came through.” His eyes grew glazed even though he still had them pinned on her. “There was an old woman.”

  I should have listened.

  Why didn’t I listen?

  “And you didn’t listen to her,” Lilly whispered.

  His gaze cleared. Except for the enormous pain. “Correct. I was, as ye would say, my usual arrogant self.”

  “Iain, you—”

  “She told me not to go in.” His hand tightened on hers. “She told me there was danger.”

  “You had your mission, though.” She clung to his sweaty hand, willing strength into his soul. “You had to do it.”

  “Did I?” He shrugged in a resigned manner. “I’ve gone over it a thousand times in my head.”

  “I’m sure you have.” She pulled their entwined hands to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “But love, there’s no way back, is there?”

  “No, there’s not.” Tugging her close, he lay her hands on his chest and placed his over hers. “I’ve come to realize that during the counseling.”

  She sighed before laying her head on their hands.

  “We went in,” he said. “The place was essentially a booby-trap.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Half my men were killed.” His voice grew hoarse. “Including Donal.”

  I’m thinking Donal might have been right about a few things.

  “Who’s Donal?”

  “My cousin.” His chest heaved under her cheek.

  Lifting her head, her heart heavy with his grief, she caught the glint of tears in his eyes. And her tears welled for him. “He wouldn’t blame you, you must know that.”

  “Aye.” He tried to blink the tears away. “I do know that now.”

  “Good.”

  They stood together, a cool wind smoothing the tears from their cheeks, a silent understanding settling over them. She let the moment run through her, wafting across the petals of her love, burrowing into her soul, right near their growing baby.

  “Lilly.”

  “Yes?” She pressed her hand on his hard chest and felt the beat of his sturdy heart.

  “I have lied to ye.” He stopped, his chest rising as he sucked in a deep breath. “But only once.”

  A trembling hurt seared across her love. “You did?”

  He kept her close, his hands tightening on her waist. “When we made love for the first time. After that, actually.”

  “Oh?” The petals of her love started to wither in distress.

  “Ye remember the roses and the thistle?”

  His carvings. The carvings she’d sensed were important, yet he hadn’t been willing to confide at that point. Now, though, he apparently was. The hurt leached away. “Yes. I remember.”

  “The one rose was for my mum.” He hesitated before blurting, “the other rose was for ye.”

  “What?” She lifted her head to stare at him in astonishment.

  No one in particular at the time. Just a dream.

  He stared at her, his gaze filled with intensity. “I lied when I told ye the rose wasn’t for someone in particular. Ye might have been something like a dream to me, but the rose was for ye.”

  This one I did when I was fifteen.

  “Oh, Iain.”

  “A bonny lass had danced into my life and I’d stupidly run her off.” His mouth pursed. “I don’t plan on running her off again.”

  A boom sounding like thunder rolled from behind the castle.

  “What?” A yelp of surprise flew from her lips as she jerked straight in his arms.

  A splash of blue and green lit the sky, while another boom rumbled above the island.

  “Och.” He squinted at the sky. “The fireworks. I forgot.”

  “Fireworks, too?” Lilly lifted her head to watch an arrow of light stream upward into the sky before sparkling into a million pinpoints of gold and silver. She glanced his way. “You went all out.”

  “I did.” He stared at her, the intensity still in his eyes. “I aimed to catch my woman’s attention.”

  “Um.” A flush of pleasure and excitement ran up her neck, flooding her cheeks with heat.

  “It’s the New Year, if the fireworks are going off.” His hands smoothed over her shoulders and down to her hips. “I’m thinking ye need to give me a kiss.”

  “Do you?” She gave him a teasing look, a surety pouring through her and lighting a fire of happiness deep inside.

  “Aye.” He tugged her close. “Come here.”

  He tasted as wonderful as he had months ago. Full and rich, sultry and sly, passionate and loving.

  “Hello, hello.” Angus Hume ran to their side, his face alight with happiness. “I see ye have convinced her.”

  Iain lingered on her upper lip for a moment, nipping at it, before drawing away. “Not sure yet, actually.”

  She squealed again when he swung her into his arms. “What are you doing?”

  He began to walk toward the castle, the old sailor chuckling by his side. “Have ye ever heard of the Scottish tradition of first foot, donas?”

  “Huh?” She gave him a blank stare.

  “It’s luck you’ll have for the rest of
the year,” Angus piped in. “I have Ed and Mrs. Butler guarding the door to make sure no one comes in the castle before ye.”

  “Excellent.” Her lover charged through the milling crowd shopping the fair booths and headed for the front door.

  “What is first foot?” she mumbled into his ear, thinking she would like to know what she was getting into before it happened.

  “Ye need a tall, dark-haired male walking through your front door as the first person in the New Year.” Iain eyed her, his lips quirking. “I guess I fit the bill.”

  “You sure do.”

  “My lord,” Angus stepped in once more. “You’ll need to put the lass down before ye enter.”

  “Iain.” The correction came with a snap.

  “Right. Iain. Ye better put her down before ye cross into the castle.” The old man’s apparent concern deepened and the correction on a name didn’t stop his dogged determination. “She’s blonde, after all.”

  “Blonde is bad?” Lilly slid into the conversation, amusement bubbling at how seriously the old sailor was taking this.

  “If ye lived in the times of the Vikings, then aye, blond people arriving at your doorstep wasn’t a good thing.” He smiled at her, his eyes alight with humor. “But you’re not a threat.”

  She laughed. “No, not in the slightest.”

  Leaning in, he nuzzled into her ear again. “Except to my heart. We still have to resolve that.”

  She ran her hand across his short hair, missing the curls, yet finding his hair was as soft to the touch as she remembered. “We’ll talk later.”

  He reared his head back, his eyes now twinkling. “Talk later, she says?”

  “Later.” Glancing around, she noted the swirl of the tourists, the smiles of the villagers. Usually, she didn’t mind a crowd, but this was too important and her heart too tender.

  She wanted to be private.

  She wanted to look at his face when he wasn’t distracted by his duties or his people and know for sure.

  “I’m thinking not.” He rearranged her in his grasp before climbing up the stairs leading to the front door.

  “Ye should let her down,” Mr. Hume suggested once more, his brow furrowed.

  The McPherson swung his gaze to the man, his own straight brows frowning. “We’re going to combine the old tradition with a new one.”

  The crowd circled them, laughing and cheering. Her dad came up and patted her on the cheek before Mrs. Ciste barreled into the fray and said she’d always known this would happen.