Ronan cleared his throat. “We’ll be leaving now. I’d best have a look to check that our prisoners are secure out in the storage shed. Nicholas Draycott’s people from Edinburgh should be here soon.”
“I don’t mind if you stay,” Jared said. “I don’t mind if everyone hears.” He didn’t take his eyes from Maggie’s face. “I love you, Maggie Kincade. I never thought I would or could, but you’ve turned me inside out. I have no hope of ever going back to what I was before. And I have no wish to.”
Her hand tightened. “Jared, you don’t have to—”
“No, don’t argue.” He muttered something in Gaelic, then held out a hand to MacLeod. A moment later the whisky bottle hit his fingers, and he downed a tidy amount, flinching only slightly.
“Listen to me, Maggie.” Jared’s throat was tight and his pulse was ragged. Damn and blast, who would have thought a simple question could be so hard in the asking? His throat felt raw, and if she turned him down, he’d go straight out to the loch and shoot himself.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve had my reasons for holding back these words, my heart, even when you slid beneath all my shadows with your joy and your passion. Your touch changed me. What we found together changed me. But up until today, one thing wouldn’t change.” His hands tightened. “I’d seen my own death out there in the snow, Maggie. A dozen times in Thailand I lived through every cold detail.”
Perpetua Wishwell frowned, stroking her amber brooch and murmuring softly.
But Maggie saw nothing but Jared’s beloved face and dark determined eyes.
Jared took a harsh breath. “I knew every detail. The blood on the snow. The tree with a broken branch and the MacNeill tartan fallen against the ground. It might have been me—probably would have been me, had luck and good friends not stood on my side.” He shoved a hand through his dark hair. “It appears that I won’t be dying here today after all.”
A tear streaked down Maggie’s cheek. Silently, Jared bent on one knee before her and brushed the salty bead away with his thumb. “I couldn’t offer you a future before this, Maggie, but now I can. And I’m asking now. Hoping.” Dying, he thought. His hand opened over her cheek. “Would you marry me, mo chridhe? No man could love you more than I do.”
All movement stilled. Silence wrapped around every corner of the room.
“M-marry you?” Maggie’s heart did a painful jackknife. He hadn’t thought this through.
He’d nearly died out by the loch, after all. She swallowed hard. “You don’t have to say this. It’s been a long day.”
“There’s no one else for me, Maggie. Nothing else I could ever want more than this.” He pulled away from her, his eyes fierce. “I won’t say there haven’t been women who’ve touched me, women I’ve admired.”
“Jared, you can stop now. You don’t really—”
Behind Jared, footsteps rustled up the stairs, but neither he nor Maggie noticed. “I can and do. Not one of them touched me as you did from the second I saw you. When I slipped into your mind that day, Maggie, I was lost. Trapped in colors and light, caught in all your passion and dreams. I was jealous of the man who’d touch your fire, but I didn’t dare to hope he could be me.” Jared’s hands clenched. “Tell me yes, Maggie. I know you best, my heart. I can see all the way to your soul every time we touch.”
Maggie straightened her shoulders. Doing the right thing had never seemed so hard before. She knew her face was pale and her voice reedy. Suddenly the sigh of the snow at the window seemed very loud.
“If something’s wrong, tell me.” His eyes darkened. “I won’t believe there’s someone else. I’d have felt him in your mind.”
“Not that.” She started to reach out to him, then remembered his singular gift. Closing her hands tightly, she turned away. “The answer is no, Jared,” she said mechanically.
The silence stretched between them, cold and heavy. Hope, Ronan, and the Wishwells were nowhere to be seen. Only snow moved, whispering at the windows.
“Talk to me, Maggie.” Jared frowned, reaching for her hands.
“Don’t,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Why?”
“Because we have to resolve this without your touch. I don’t want you in my head,” she said desperately.
“Then tell me in words.”
Behind Maggie, Hope MacLeod tiptoed past. On her way to the stairs, she gave Jared a swift thumbs-up.
The smell of pine needles and juniper lingered in the quiet air. “Why, Maggie?”
She stood stiffly, gripping the marble mantel covered with a length of green holly. “Because it’s a bad idea. Because,” she said flatly, “you’ll only regret it.”
“Never.”
“You will. Any man would.”
Jared started to curse, to haul her into his arms and block the words, but reason held him still. He was too wise a man not to recognize her pain. She’d listened to his bleak story once, and now he’d do the same for her. He’d be civilized and listen for hours, Jared thought grimly..
Then he’d handcuff her to his bed until he changed her mind.
Perpetua Wishwell moved past in the hallway, her hands full of pillows. She gave him a reassuring nod before disappearing up the broad stairs. “I’m listening.”
Maggie was pacing now, hands locked at her waist. “It’s not about you, Jared. Don’t take this personally.”
“It’s hard not to.”
Maggie paced to the window, turned sharply, then circled back to the opposite wall, her eyes dark with conflicting emotions. “It’s like melting solder and metal. When they bond, if you’re careful, they stop being two elements and create something entirely new.”
Jared kept his voice level, trying to follow her. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes. It all depends on how you plan to use them and how they’ll work together.” She took a harsh breath. “It’s me that’s the problem. Me, not you, Jared. I don’t know how to say this any other way.”
Jared felt as if a steel fist had torn out his heart.
She doesn’t love you, fool. She can’t take the kind of life you’d give her. She needs crowds, excitement, people. With the danger past, she must have realized that clearly.
His jaw hardened. “What part of you is the problem?” he asked roughly. “Your eyes? Your hair? That unbelievable mouth of yours?”
“All of me.”
No smile.
No quick look. Only a crushing tone of sadness in her voice.
“And what is it that’s so terrible about all of you?”
“You’ve had so much pain already, Jared. I can’t bear the thought that I’d bring you more.” Her eyes, blurred with tears, rose slowly to his face. “And I would. Not because I don’t love you, but because I love you too much.”
The air seemed to shimmer.
Jared felt a burning in his throat as he saw her hand rise, then fall to her side. He chose his words carefully. “I see. You love me,” he repeated slowly. “And that’s why you can’t marry me.”
Maggie nodded, shoving at one wet cheek. “You need someone calm in your life. Someone with a nice normal life and no shadows.”
Understanding hit Jared in a flood. So that was it. Not the lack of love, but something else entirely. “This is because of your father. Because of the rumors and the scandal.”
Her hands tightened. “What’s happened here made me see all the loose threads. It’s not over, Jared. There will be more police questions. More reporters and more frenzy. I can’t put you through that after—”
He moved in a blur of speed before she could say another bleak word. Ignoring the burn at his thigh, he gripped her hand and pulled her down onto his lap. “Did it ever strike you, woman, that normal is the last thing I want or need? That calm and impeccable would drive me mad before one week had passed?”
Her chin rose stubbornly. “You’ll change your mind when the doorbell won’t stop ringing. When you can’t walk down a street without a thousand questions sho
uted at you.”
His finger traced her lower lip, sending fresh heat spearing through his body. “Gentle Maggie. Stubborn, impossible Maggie who I love beyond all describing.”
“You can’t. I won’t let you. You were the one who told me every question had a price. So answer this question, because it may save you pain later: can you ever rest, wondering if my father did more than he said? I don’t think I can,” she whispered. “Even if I could, the reporters wouldn’t let me. For them the story will never be over.”
Jared felt her anxiety bleed over him, a storm of reds and leaden grays. Yet in the middle of those warring colors he felt the fierce, shining flame of her love. White hot, it filled him, seared him, enveloped him. She was determined to protect him, he realized, even when protection was the last thing he wanted. “Stop giving me reasons why we can’t be happy.”
“No.” She turned her head away, her shoulders taut. “I shouldn’t be touching you. Touching you makes me want you, and then I lose all sanity.”
Images shimmered through her mind and left Jared’s body hardening. She wanted his hands, his laugh, the hot weight of his body as he filled her. She wanted him with a hunger that bordered on pain.
Jared cleared his throat. “The hue and cry will soon be forgotten. Nicholas Draycott will see to that.”
“Just like that?”
“He’s a very persuasive man, my dear. Especially when a favor to a friend is involved.”
Maggie frowned down at his sweater. “They won’t forget back in New York. Not in London either.”
“Then we’ll go to ground for a few months. We’ll sail to Tahiti and backpack through Bali. No one will have the slightest interest in two lovesick, sunburned tourists who can’t keep their hands off each other.” His mouth curved. “Speaking for myself, of course.”
She gave a wistful smile. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It is easy.”
Footsteps tapped through the hall. “Jared’s right, my dear. There are hundreds of places where you’d be unrecognized. One of them isn’t a day’s drive from here, where green hills skirt a silver loch. Right here.” Morwenna Wishwell opened a heavy book and thrust it into Maggie’s hands. “You can see all the pictures. There is a lovely house overlooking the sea. Sheep everywhere and a fine Neolithic hill fort.” Her keen eyes swept Jared’s shocked face and twinkled. “That man of yours will tell you all about it.” She was gone before Maggie could look up from the book.
“It’s beautiful,” Maggie whispered, peering down at the blue-green hills ringing a loch dotted with wooded islands. “Isolated, too. It would make a lovely place to stay. I wonder who lives there?”
Jared watched the hills and water blur before his eyes. He remembered the sounds of falcons and the wind singing over the cliffs. He remembered a grand house that had once been filled with laughter. “You like it?”
“It’s breathtaking. Just the place to be alone.”
“I suppose I might speak to the owner.” Memories surged. Laughter that had turned to silence, silence to aching sadness.
Maggie twisted eagerly. “Do you know him?”
“That I do. Very well, in fact.”
“Do you think he might consider it? Not that I’m agreeing to anything,” she added hastily. Even then her eyes didn’t leave the open pages of the book.
“He might,” Jared murmured. “With the right inducement.”
“You mean money?” She gnawed at her lower lip. “Well I haven’t very much, and I won’t let you go managing this on your own,” she said firmly.
“In that case, we’ll have to find some other inducement,” he said gravely. “Something a man simply can’t do without. Something that will set him on his ear.”
“Cufflinks. Maybe a matching watch.” Maggie shifted again. Muscles that Jared didn’t know existed slammed to agonizing arousal. “Maybe a ring for a woman. Is he married?”
“Not yet. The poor man never finished his proposal. I believe the woman in question left him without two clear thoughts in his head,” Jared muttered, trying to find a more comfortable position.
And failing grandly.
“No,” he continued, “I think he would like something more lasting than jewelry. Something he can wake up with in the morning and go to sleep with at night.”
She frowned. “A dog? You want us to give him Max?”
Jared would have laughed if he hadn’t been in such pain. “What he wants, Maggie, is you. Beside him at dawn. Wrapped around him at midnight. All your laughter and your smiles given to him.”
She looked down at the book, then looked back at him. “You mean…” She caught a breath. “You own this place?”
“Every stone and tree. Will you mind living inside drafty old granite walls half of the year?”
“But you can’t—I didn’t—” Her mouth closed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was hedging my bets, in case you didn’t like old, isolated castles. And I don’t want to take any chances. I want your elbow gouging my ribs and your hair on my pillow when I wake. I want that impossible mouth of yours all over me when I slip into bed at night.” Jared smiled. “Or any other time we choose.” He took her hand. “Will you marry me very soon?” he said roughly. “I can maybe manage to wait a week.” She blinked away her tears, and his heart crumbled. “Then again, maybe I can’t.”
She gave a little sigh and eased her mouth against his, lingering, tasting.
Affirming.
Answering him with her heart.
Intractable Scotsman. How can I say no?
“Say the words,” Jared said hoarsely. “I want to be sure I’ve got them right.”
“Yes, I will. I do.” Her mouth tightened. “But Jared, what if my father—”
He pulled her to her feet. “Izzy has already flown up to be on hand to watch over him in the hospital in Edinburgh. Until then, I’ve more important secrets to unravel.” He swept her into his arms.
“But your leg—”
“I can manage well enough,” he said hoarsely.
Hand in hand, they made their way up the stairs. In the high bedroom silver candles sparkled on every table.
Maggie caught a sharp breath. “The Wishwells, of course. Aided and abetted by Hope and Ronan. You knew about this?”
“Not a clue.” Jared cupped her cheek. “I suppose they thought I needed all the help I could get. I was clearly making a hash of my first marriage proposal.”
Jared saw the bright MacNeill tartan spread out on the bed and the broadsword at its foot. He did not miss their significance.
But Maggie looked confused. She touched the thick wool slowly. “I don’t understand, Jared. Why—”
He brought her palm to his lips. “Because there’s old magic here, my love. We stand on Scottish soil now, and there is power in the old ways and old vows. By plaid and by steel, where love is freely given,” he said slowly. His voice was raw. “The way I pledge my body to you now, heart of my heart.”
He skimmed the curve of her breast. “I hope you are sure.”
Maggie’s breath caught at the emotion in his words. Her eyes glinted and she linked her fingers tightly through his. “
In one twisting movement, he planted her on the bed and trapped her beneath his powerful body. Even then, her concern was for him.
“Jared, be careful. Your leg—you can’t possibly—”
The great bed creaked. Chest to thigh, their bodies met, wooed, clung. Tartan beneath them. Cold steel beside them.
Maggie’s protests fell away in a soft hiss of surprise. “I guess you can after all,” she said as he pinned her to the bright wool, raining kisses over her neck and shoulders.
Her hips moved. His thighs tensed. Jared swallowed as he looked at her flushed face and radiant eyes, then the restless length of her body.
Fabric rustled.
Lace fled.
Most of his brain dissolved in that moment. He decided he’d better get used to the sensation, since
it seemed to occur every time they touched.
Then they were skin to skin. Heat goaded heat with unbearable pleasure. “Tell me again,” he said hoarsely. “Say you’ll marry me very soon.”
“I will.”
Her nails gently raked his naked chest. “Stop distracting me,” he muttered. “I’m trying hard to impress you.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Entice you,” he rasped. “Overwhelm you.”
Her palms skimmed his ribs and eased lower, wrapped around his hot, aroused length.
“Damn it, Maggie.” Jared twisted, cupping her soft hips and finding the taut swell of her breast with his mouth. Stroke by stroke, he claimed her, enchanted her, while she arched against him, lost in textures of pleasure where his hands traced the perfect path of her fantasies.
She made a soft, broken sound of pleasure.
Oh, there. And there, she thought.
Smiling, Jared complied.
“Stop that,” she gasped. “It’s cheating for you to read my mind.”
“Guilty, I’m afraid. But what man could resist?” His fingers eased deeper, coaxing waves of pleasure and intoxicating heat.
Jared felt the colors rise at the same moment she did. Rich and heavy, they shuddered across to him wherever their bodies touched. He stiffened as her climax broke, slamming over them both in perfect synchrony.
With a gasp, Maggie fell against him. “Jared, no. I wanted—”
“I know, my love. And you’ll have that too.” His hands tightened on her hips. Sleek skin parted as the last of their clothes fell forgotten to the polished floor.
Maggie moved against him, soft and yielding. The joy shimmered and built anew, and her eyes were dazed with desire when she pulled him against her. “I do,” she whispered. “I will.” She wrapped her legs around him, torturing them both with the perfect gift of all the ways she meant to love him. “Starting right now.”
“Heaven help us both,” Jared muttered. He made a silent vow to share this blinding radiance with her for at least the next hundred years or so. “We MacNeills are very long-lived, I warn you.”
Maggie sighed as his thighs flexed. He speared deep, merging his heat with hers. “Did I ever tell you—about my grandmother?”
A Highlander for Christmas Page 36
