A Highlander for Christmas

by Christina Skye

  The question left a weight at her chest. For a while she had managed to forget the abbey and its shadows, along with her concern for her father. “None.”

  “They’ll come.”

  “I almost hope they don’t.” Maggie took a long breath. “What about the man in the alley?”

  “I’ve notified the police. Without a license plate or a clear description, I’m afraid there’s not much they can do.” He reached out and brushed a crumb gently from her cheek. “Let me worry about it. There’s more when you finish that.”

  His hand moved and Maggie felt the feather-light touch like a jolt of direct current. For a moment the room seemed to shift, and the air seemed too heavy.

  She was relieved when he pulled away. She took a bite of the omelet and sighed in pure satisfaction. “I need to leave soon. I have two shops to visit on Brompton Road this morning.”

  “Fine. I’ll pick you up afterward.”

  “You’ve been very nice, but that’s not necessary.”

  “Five o’clock. The Ritz. I’m taking you to dinner,” he said firmly.

  Maggie frowned. He was crowding her again, overwhelming her. “I’ve got other plans.” She pushed away her plate.

  “Cancel them.”

  “No.” She didn’t stop to consider, sweeping to her feet. The man was too sharp, too cool. Any more contact would throw her off balance entirely. “I said I can’t.”

  “Then afterwards. The Ritz lobby at seven.”

  She sighed. “No.”

  “One way or another, I’m going to see you home safely tonight.”

  Maggie glared, taking in the firm set of his jaw. “Are you always this obstinate?”

  “No.” A smile lurked in his eyes. “Sometimes I’m worse.”

  “Fine. But make it eight instead.”

  He took her hand as she rose. “Be careful today.”

  “I always am.”

  His fingers closed, tracing slow circles over her wrist, and Maggie felt electricity dive straight down her spine. She didn’t like this shivery feeling that came with every movement of his hands. Even worse was the way his eyes narrowed, as if he could see exactly the effect he was having on her.

  “It might be worth it, you know.”

  “What?”

  “Letting go, just once. Putting down all that heavy guard of yours while you stop looking for shadows. Maybe you could even try trusting someone for a change. People do that on occasion.”

  He wasn’t cocky now, Maggie saw. There was a fine edge of tension to each word, and banked desire shimmered in his eyes. His fingers moved slowly over her palm, and she felt her hand open unconsciously at his touch.

  When had a simple meal become such a dangerous thing?

  Maggie closed her eyes and pulled free. “When you let go, you get burned, MacNeill. And I have enough adventure in my life.”

  “Maybe not,” he said. “Maybe neither of us does. It might be one hell of a time to find out.” He watched her rise, the force of his gaze almost painful.

  Maggie made her decision as she went off to dress. She owed Jared MacNeill for her rescue, but she wanted no more involvement. Her life was messy enough, and she had no room for personal entanglements.

  So she had no intention of being anywhere near the Ritz lobby that night, not at seven or eight or any other hour.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  At ten minutes to eight Jared pulled his Triumph into an empty spot near the Ritz. When he strode inside. Maggie was nowhere in sight. He had suspected she might not show, of course, and had taken precautions.

  After a quick conversation with the maître d’, he flipped on his phone.

  “Jared, is that you?” his friend Izzy answered promptly.

  “Afraid so. Where is she?”

  “Staring at the jewelry window at Harrod’s, looking like someone with all the time in the world.”

  Jared muttered something low and graphic in Gaelic.

  He’d been right. She’d had no intention of meeting him tonight. “Any sign that she’s being followed, Izzy?”

  “None that I’ve picked up, but I’ve been mostly in the car. If you want, I’ll circle the block and then go in on foot to check.”

  “Don’t bother. Just keep on her. I’ll be by as soon as I can cut through traffic.”

  Less than ten minutes later, Jared moved up silently beside Maggie. She was peering through a window at a necklace of matched black pearls set in braided platinum. “Making your Christmas list early?”

  She spun around, one hand to her chest. Her gaze locked on his formal white shirt and black evening jacket. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be—”

  “At the Ritz?” he finished calmly. “So I was, until you failed to arrive.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “I had you watched.”

  “You did what?” Her face flushed bright pink.

  Jared took her arm and pulled her down the street, blandly ignoring the interested looks from a pair of passing men.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  “Taking you to dinner. Unless my information is wrong, you haven’t eaten since breakfast. I expect you must be ravenous after visiting four jewelry shops, two museums, and a dozen bookstores.”

  “You had no right to have me watched…” Her voice broke off with a sputter.

  “There’s no need to snap at me. You’ve got to eat, and I’m prepared to take you. How about Hunanese?”

  “I wouldn’t eat with you for all the tea in China.” She wrenched away. “What makes you think you can follow people around, poke into their lives and then swoop down to force them to your bidding?”

  “It’s dinner, Maggie, not a lifestyle change.”

  Or was it? Jared thought. Did trust come so hard with her that a simple dinner invitation became a major assault?

  “I can’t imagine what she sees in you.”

  Jared frowned. “Who?”

  “Your woman friend with the purring voice. She phoned last night while you were asleep. It seems that she was lonely. She wanted your company—in bed.”

  Jessica had phoned again? Jared tried to hide his irritation. She had been after him for three months, since they’d been introduced at a party given by one of Nicholas’s friends. She still refused to accept that Jared wasn’t interested.

  “She’s not my woman friend.”

  “No?” She shrugged, but Jared saw a glint of irritation in her eyes. “I suppose complete strangers call you in the middle of the night and offer you their bodies.”

  “One can wish.”

  Maggie looked away, frowning. “I don’t need a watchdog. I just want to be left alone.”

  “That won’t be possible.”

  “What happened last night was a random crime. It had nothing to do with me or my father.”

  He waited, saying nothing.

  “You still don’t believe that, do you?”

  “In my experience, coincidence doesn’t exist,” he said grimly.

  “Was following me Nicholas Draycott’s idea or yours?”

  “Both.”

  “In that case, you both can—”

  She was about to say more when a garbage can clattered down the sidewalk, barely missing her feet. A black shape shot through the darkness, yelping wildly.

  Maggie froze. “If that was an overfed English rat, I don’t want to know.”

  “Not many rats that I know yelp. It was a dog, I think.” Jared studied the gaunt shape cowering in the shadows.

  The dog stiffened, growling softly as another can rattled over the drive. Behind the clanging metal a trio of young boys swaggered into view.

  “’Ere, where’d the brute get off to?” one demanded, scowling at Jared.

  “Haven’t seen it.”

  “No? Then what d’ ye call that mangy bag of skin pressed against yer feet?” The tallest boy, probably all of sixteen, made a poking stab with a stick pulled from beneath one arm.” ’E�
�s my bleedin’ dog. Going ’ome with me, so’e is.”

  Jared caught the stick and sent it flying. “The dog stays here,” he snapped. “He’s frightened and he’s shivering and I expect he’s tired of your bullying.”

  “’Ere now. Property’s property, ain’t it?”

  Behind Jared the puppy flattened his ears and slunk backward, trembling.

  “This ‘property’ appears to have different ideas.” Gently, Jared picked up the trembling animal and his eyes turned very hard. “Now push off before I take a stick to you, the way you’ve done to this little fellow.”

  The boys looked at the dog, then looked at Jared’s broad shoulders, then set off toward the street.

  Silence fell. The dog yipped happily, shoving a wet nose against Jared’s face.

  He winced. “Probably has fleas and worse.”

  The thin body lurched enthusiastically.

  “What’s your name, then?”

  A quick bark. More wild wriggling.

  “I guess that leaves the name up to me. What a mess you are.” Jared chuckled, scratching the small, alert head. “You look like a cross between a fox and a mongoose. I shudder to think what your parents were.”

  Small, pointed ears flopped forward, and the puppy lunged for Jared’s bow tie, covering it with saliva.

  “I can see I’m going to regret this.”

  Maggie laughed. “I think he’s cute. All that hair goes so well with your evening jacket. So does the puppy saliva.” She smiled smugly. “And since you can hardly take him to dinner, I’ll go get a taxi back to my hotel.”

  Jared frowned at her over the wriggling fur. “Hold him for a moment, will you? I think he’s caught.”

  “Do you really expect me to fall for that?” Maggie shook her head. “Not on your life. Enjoy your meal and your new friend.”

  “I’m serious. It’s his paw.” Jared frowned at the restless dog. “Somehow he’s managed to get twisted in my shirt.”

  As Maggie reluctantly bent closer, the dog yelped. Ears flattened, he struggled, clearly in pain. “Poor thing. Come to Maggie, then, and let the mean old man tug you free.”

  Jared ignored her jibe, gently probing to find the little paw, now solidly thrust between the studs on his evening shirt. With every movement the dog whined pathetically. “They must have hurt him,” he said harshly.

  “I think he’s bleeding. There’s something dark on your shirt, and he doesn’t want me to touch his neck.” Maggie gave up and thrust the puppy back to Jared. “Just tell me where he’s caught.”

  “Fourth one down, I think.”

  Maggie stared at the white shirt and counted downward. She had half an idea to leave now, while Jared was so distracted.

  But with a resigned sigh she went to work, one hand sliding the restless animal while she searched for the first button. A moment later Maggie found they weren’t buttons at all, but impossible little circles caught through the tightest of holes. “What are these things, anyway?” she muttered, bent over Jared and trying to avoid the yelping puppy.

  “They’re studs.”

  Studs. It figured.

  “I’m afraid they’re going to be tight.” Twice her fingers slipped free, and the wriggling paws didn’t help a bit.

  “Do what you can.”

  Maggie bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to cause the puppy any more pain. “Hold him tighter, and move over there beside that light post so I can see what I’m doing.”

  They must be a sight, she thought, her following Jared with one hand wedged beneath his shirt.

  A middle-aged couple strolled past. Their eyes widened, registering sharp disapproval. “Can we get this done before anyone else wanders by?” she muttered. “What will they think?”

  “That they’ve just interrupted the prelude to a steamy evening,” Jared said calmly. “And that I am a very lucky man.”

  “Because I’m tearing off your shirt in lust?”

  “Something like that.” Jared raised his arm, pulling the crisp white fabric tighter across his lean chest. “Tear away.”

  The trouble, Maggie decided, was that the shirt was cut too well and she had no room to maneuver. And the real trouble, she decided a moment later, was that he was too warm, too hard, too muscled beneath her fingers.

  She frowned, trying to keep her thoughts on the job, on anything but that expanse of hard male chest. She finally managed to grip one metal circle and rip it free to the puppy’s excited barking.

  “One down, three to go.”

  “I only hope he’s housebroken,” Jared muttered.

  Maggie’s gaze swung up in shock. “He hasn’t—”

  “Not yet, but I wouldn’t put it past the wretch. Hurry, can’t you?”

  Another stud tore free, giving Maggie room to shove her whole hand under the shirt. She thought she saw Jared’s jaw tense as she brushed his ribs.

  Warm skin.

  Hard, shifting muscle.

  She closed her mind down tight, telling herself she felt nothing, wanted nothing. “There’s some sort of string here. I think it’s wrapped around his paw.”

  “I thought it had to be something like that.”

  The dog’s wild movements had shredded one edge of Jared’s cummerbund, leaving the creature trapped tighter than ever.

  “Did you find it?” There was something odd and distant about his voice.

  Maggie tugged hard, following the thread lower until it vanished.

  Right beneath his waistband.

  “I can’t,” she snapped.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s gone beneath your—your clothes,” she said in a strangled voice.

  Panting, the dog lurched wildly up at Jared’s face, only to collapse with a shiver of pain.

  “You’ll have to, I’m afraid. Much more of this and he’ll hurt himself badly. I can’t say it’s pleasant for me either,” he added hoarsely.

  Maggie shot a glance at his face, trying to read the expression in his eyes.

  He raised his arms higher. “Just have at it, will you? The dog and I will both survive.” He muttered a low phrase of Gaelic as her fingers edged down toward his waist. “At least I hope so.”

  Maggie found the waistband and followed the heavy thread lower. “It’s caught.”

  “I know that.”

  “No, it’s caught lower. On your … on one of those button things.” She bit her lip. Trust him not to have a zipper like any normal man. “Give me the dog and you finish it.”

  Jared shifted the restless, frightened animal toward her and was rewarded with a low howl and a burst of kicking limbs. He muttered a graphic curse. “No good. You’ll have to do it. Just think of me as another insensate diamond that you’re mounting.” His mouth twitched. “No pun intended.”

  Maggie closed her eyes and searched lower, tracing that hard, flat stomach. Don’t think about it, she thought angrily. Don’t remember how he looked with his jeans half open.

  She stiffened as she found the damnable thread. And something else was clearly outlined against her fingers. Her gaze snapped to his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You—”

  His eyes were very dark. “Of course I am. You can’t probe at me with those amazing hands of yours and not expect a reaction,” he said flatly. “You’d have a dead man twitching.”

  Amazing hands?

  She stared at the ground, her breath coming hot and fast. “Look, I can’t do it.” She spoke in a rush, wishing she were anywhere else. Why did it matter so much? Why couldn’t she just smile and be blasé, as either of her worldly cousins would have done?

  Because she’d never been good with blasé. In fact, she’d never been good with much of anything except cold gems and glittering metals. Certainly not with men.

  “I can’t.” she said raggedly.

  Jared freed one hand, touching her face gently. “Hard going, is it?”

  She nodded, eyes lowered. “Look, I’m not—oh, I’m not the one for
this, Jared.”

  His soft laugh feathered over her cheek. “I wondered when you would get around to using my first name. Considering where your hand is, it seems about time.”

  She had expected mockery and irritation. Instead she found eyes that crinkled with quiet sympathy. She stared back, oddly moved by the laughter lurking in his face.

  Surprised most of all that the gentle laughter seemed for himself as much as her.

  “Why don’t we muddle through this together? Try to forget I’m even here.”

  Right, Maggie thought. As if I could forget that warm chest and all those hard muscles.

  He cleared his throat. “Anytime would be good.”

  “It might hurt.”

  “My dear girl, it already does. Worse than you can imagine,” he said dryly. His lips twisted in a crooked smile as he raised the struggling puppy once more. “I’m at your mercy.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. How could she refuse when he was being so damnably nice about all this? The man could be dangerously charming when he tried.

  Maggie closed her eyes, wedging her hand lower, beyond the trembling paw and the stiff waistband, trying vainly to ignore the interesting texture of soft cotton and harder outlines beneath. Cheeks hot, she eased her hand deeper into the encasing fabric.

  Almost there. One more good tug…

  Maggie gnawed anxiously at her lip. “Jared, this is it. Pulling might hurt.”

  No answer.

  She was bent on one knee before him, searching madly. Her head rose at his silence. “Are you—”

  “It would be very good if you could finish the job.” His voice was low and gravelly.

  She heard the tension and the tight edge of control.

  Ignoring everything else, she pulled harder. To her infinite relief, the threads unraveled and tore free, accompanied by the puppy’s wild barking.

  “It’s all done.” Maggie surged to her feet, her cheeks burning.

  His eyes were closed tight.

  “Jared? Did I—are you…”

  “Alive. Barely. One day I’ll probably thank you for a most intriguing experience.” Stiffly, he tucked the dog under one arm and took her hand with the other. “But not just now,” he muttered.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN