Wicked Highland Wishes (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 2)

by Julie Johnstone

  He’d known her excuse was just that, but he had assumed she simply wanted to avoid him. Yet now that he noted her creeping up the tower stairs, his pulse sped up. She glanced surreptitiously back, forcing him to scramble into an alcove near the top of the stairs to avoid being seen. Once he heard her fading footsteps, he crept out and followed her to the tower. After she went into the round room, he spied through the door as she opened chests, looked in all the pottery set about, and even got to her stomach to look under some of the window seats. He frowned, trying to determine what she could possibly be searching for. When she stood and dusted herself off with a mutter, then turned toward the door, he darted back toward the stairs to await her and follow her to wherever she might go next.

  She came out soon after, moved past him without noticing him, and made her way back into the main castle. Much to his surprise, her next destination was Iain and Marion’s bedchamber. She paused in front of their door, knocked, and loudly called for them. When no one answered, she slowly opened the door, peered inside, and appeared to be ascertaining if she was alone. She dashed in, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her, and Lachlan moved silently toward the door and peered through the opening. Once again, she began a search for something, and after opening all the chests, trifling through Iain’s and Marion’s clothing, and then looking in every space she obviously could think of, she cursed and turned toward the door.

  Lachlan moved silently back into the alcove at the top of the stairs. Helena came out of Marion and Iain’s room, and for the rest of the afternoon, she went from bedchamber to bedchamber of every member of his family. She ended her day with the sun fading in the sky at the cottage of Rory Mac, which Lachlan didn’t doubt she would have proceeded to search, but Alanna greeted her with a smile and a fussy baby.

  Helena did not stay inside Alanna and Rory Mac’s home long, and when she left, Lachlan followed her back to the castle and watched her go into his bedchamber. He waited long enough that he hoped it was not obvious that he had followed her before he entered his room.

  He stilled at the sight of her half-dressed and on his bed. Her clothes lay scattered on the ground around the bed, and he noted one of his chests that had been closed was now open.

  “Helena, what are ye doing in here?” he asked, not having to instill surprise in his voice, as he was genuinely shocked to find her almost naked.

  She blinked coyly at him, and anger pulsed through him. There was nae a doubt in his mind that Helena was here to find something. What that was, he could not imagine, but it was obvious she had decided the cold relationship they had both silently embraced was about to turn scorching as she attempted to seduce him to get what she was after, even if the seduction bound them for life.

  As she scampered to her knees and slid her léine over her breasts to reveal them, he tensed, expecting a jolt of lust. She was a beautiful woman. Yet, he felt nothing but sharp dismay. He did not want her in the slightest. But how far would he have to take the deception to learn of her true intentions? Disgust filled him as his duty to his king and clan weighed heavy. An image of Bridgette filled his mind, hardening his body and sending an ache through him.

  “Lachlan,” Helena purred. “I’m glad ye’re here. I’m afraid ye have gotten the idea that I dunnae wish to join with ye, so I’ve been waiting here all day to show ye how much I desire ye.” When he did not move, she frowned, her brow puckering, before she scrambled off the bed and walked across the room to him. She pressed her chest to his and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve been shy, as we dunnae ken each other that well, but if we are to truly have a future, let us join our bodies and our hearts. Do ye wish for that, Lachlan?”

  “Oh, aye,” he lied while grasping her hands and unlacing her fingers before bringing her hands to her side. “I want that verra much.” He stepped away from her even as the falsehood spilled from his lips. “Sadly, I only came in here to retrieve my dagger. Iain wishes to have one made like it,” he finished, amazed at how quickly he had thought of that excuse.

  Her lips formed a pout. “Surely yer brother can wait.”

  “Nay,” Lachlan replied, retrieved his dagger, and faced her once again. He found himself annoyed that she had not yet covered herself, and he had to resist the urge to do it for her. “The dagger is to be a gift for the king, and Iain wishes to see mine before we dine. I will see ye in the great hall for supper.”

  She nodded as a coy smile twisted her lips. “After supper, let us come to the bedchamber without lingering.”

  He nodded, even as he tried to determine how he could uncover the information he needed without seducing her. He could take the seduction far without joining with her and binding himself to her for life, but he did not want to seduce her at all—not even one touch. “I will see ye at supper,” he said again before turning on his heel and heading to find Iain to speak with him. He went to Iain’s bedchamber but when no one answered the door, he made his way down to the great hall, and found it almost full. He’d been so distracted he had not realized how near supper it had gotten.

  He moved toward the dais, thinking upon what Helena might be looking for, but as he searched out Iain, his eyes rested on Bridgette and his step faltered. She was resplendent in a soft-blue gown with a crown of white flowers in her hair. For a moment, her beauty stilled any further movement. She was talking animatedly to Marion, her hands gesturing wildly in the air. Marion asked Bridgette something, and she threw her head back to laugh, exposing the long, creamy column of her neck.

  Lust seized his body like an army bent on destroying its enemy. He was helpless to fight off the need. It heated him and hardened him. When he finally managed to wrench his gaze from her, he found Iain watching him with raised brows and knowing eyes. He did not turn away from his brother’s probing stare. Silent acknowledgment passed between them. Lachlan was sure Iain had seen the battle raging inside him. He was also sure his brother would have words to say, though what to say in return defied him at the moment.

  He strode toward the dais, and as he did, Bridgette glanced his way. Normally one to openly show her emotions on her face, it hit him like a blow to find veiled eyes staring almost through him. Had she somehow sensed his desire last night? He had thought he had managed to hide it fairly well, except for that one moment where the memory of her kiss had spilled out of him. He slowed when he got to the dais and took the only available seat, which put Bridgette directly to his left.

  “Good evening, Lachlan,” she said politely.

  When he sat, her smell of heather swirled around him, the heat of her body caressed him, and her husky tone tortured his already hard, yearning body. “Why are ye sitting at the dais?” he growled in his need for her, making him surly.

  “Marion invited me to sit in Graham’s seat, but if ye prefer I move…”

  “Dunnae be silly,” Marion exclaimed from the other side of Bridgette before scowling at Lachlan.

  Lachlan needed Bridgette to move. Being so near her would drive him out of his head. Yet, he did not want her to depart the table, nor his side. “Nay, dunnae depart. It’s just that Helena will be down to supper shortly, and she will wish to join me, I’m certain.”

  “Helena can have my seat,” Rory Mac replied, getting up from where Cameron usually sat at the end of the dais. “Alanna’s been shooting me looks for aid with the bairn since I sat,” he said with a grin. “Best to make her happy now so she’ll be sweet to me later.”

  Iain chuckled at Rory Mac’s words as their friend exited the dais. Lachlan needed to speak to Iain and tell him of Helena’s search of the castle, but Bridgette and Marion were sitting between him and his brother, and he certainly could not speak freely in front of those two. Restless and impatient to find a private moment before Helena arrived in the great hall, Lachlan shifted in his seat as he tried to come up with an excuse to get Bridgette and Marion—or allow him and Iain—to leave the dais for a moment. He could think of nothing, and as his irritation grew, he reached to grab his wine goble
t, and his hand landed atop a soft warm one—Bridgette’s.

  Startled, he cut his gaze to where their hands lingered together over the same wineglass. Suddenly, she trembled under his touch. If lightning had struck him, it would not have hit him as hard as his desire for her in that moment. He inhaled sharply as his fingers curled of their own volition around her small hand.

  When he realized what he was doing, he opened his mouth to apologize and make some inane excuse, but the awareness that she was not attempting to move her hand but staring at him with a look of raw desire, struck him speechless. Her lips parted even as her chest rose and fell with the quickening of her breath. She wanted him, too! Exultation and fear stole his breath. God’s teeth. It was one matter of torture to resist the temptation she presented when he had believed that she did not desire him in the least, but if his understanding of her was clear now, resisting her would be impossible! No. His mind rejected such weakness of control and character. He could not weaken whether she desired him or not, and likely, he was simply conjuring a false image in his haze of lust.

  “I’m sorry, lass,” he choked out as he released her hand.

  “Nay,” she replied, her voice hoarse. “I did nae see ye reaching for the goblet. ’Tis yers, I’m certain. Mine’s just here.” She reached for her goblet, picked it up, and drank the entire contents in a few gulps.

  “Thirsty?” Marion asked, eyeing Bridgette with raised brows and a strangely knowing half smile.

  “Aye, I’m verra thirsty,” Bridgette snapped. “And now I wish to dance.” She gave Marion a pointed look. “Do ye care to join me with the women?”

  It was only then that Lachlan noticed a small group of women had gathered at the back of the great hall and were forming a circle to dance.

  Marion smirked at Bridgette but then nodded. “I suppose I could—”

  Before Marion could finish her sentence, Bridgette had risen, taken Marion by the hand, and was practically dragging a half-laughing, half-protesting Marion off the dais. He stared after Bridgette, unable to look away from her gently swaying hips. His fingers twitched to grasp them and—

  “Lachlan?”

  Lachlan twitched at the sound of Iain speaking to him. Slowly, as not to appear as unaware as he truly had been of his brother, Lachlan turned and looked at Iain. “Aye?”

  Iain slid across the bench toward him, making Lachlan suspect his brother had something to say that he did not want overheard. Lachlan did, as well, so it suited him.

  Iain stared hard at Lachlan and then slid his gaze toward the floor in the direction of Bridgette and Marion. “Is there anything troubling ye?” he asked before looking at Lachlan once again.

  Lachlan tensed and met his brother’s unwavering stare with one of his own. “Nothing I kinnae resolve.”

  “Ye ken the bond of brotherhood between the four of us makes our clan stronger than others where brothers fight amongst themselves and have divided their clans because they kinnae set their own desires aside.”

  A tick started in Lachlan’s jaw. Was Iain warning him to stay away from Bridgette? He despised himself for apparently being transparent enough with his lust that Iain suspected something. “Nothing is more important to me than the three of ye,” Lachlan assured Iain.

  Iain nodded. “’Tis how it should be until the woman meant for ye comes along. Then, I vow to ye brother, if she is meant for ye and ye for her, nothing will be more important to ye than she is. And all else will resolve if approached with great care.”

  “I’ll remember that when the woman meant for me comes into my life,” he said slowly, not certain what Iain was telling him.

  “Make sure yer eyes are open so ye dunnae miss her, aye?”

  Lachlan nodded, and Iain clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m glad we had this talk. ’Tis the truth it was Marion’s idea. Actually, she insisted. She is worried about ye possibly binding yerself to Helena for life. Marion claims she has a bad feeling about the woman, and wants me to convince ye to rethink things.”

  Lachlan chuckled at the irony of Marion’s feeling and how correct she was. “What did ye tell Marion?”

  Iain flashed a grin. “I pledged to try, which is likely why she went off to dance with Bridgette when the lass fairly dragged her away. What do ye suppose had Bridgette so eager to quit the dais?” Iain speared Lachlan with a curious stare.

  “I’ve nae a notion,” Lachlan replied, glad it was not a blatant lie. He had a half suspicion, which was likely just his imagination. “Let us nae tarry on Bridgette and what has nettled her. I’ve proof that Helena is here to find something.”

  Iain’s eyebrows arched even as his lips formed a grim line. “What proof do ye have?”

  Lachlan quickly told Iain of his afternoon spent following Helena and how it had ended with Helena trying to seduce him.

  Iain picked up his wine goblet, swirled the liquid around, and set it down without drinking. Lachlan knew his brother was thinking upon what Lachlan should do. Finally, Iain spoke. “We must learn what she’s seeking,” he said slowly, almost as if testing the words.

  Lachlan suspected what Iain was truly testing was Lachlan’s response. His brother would never ask him to join with Helena to get the information they needed, but he knew that it may be necessary, as did Lachlan.

  “I’ll do what I must,” Lachlan replied, the bitter taste of disgust filling his mouth.

  Iain gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Where is Helena now?”

  Lachlan was just about to answer when Helena suddenly appeared at the threshold to the great hall. She had on a gown the likes of which he had never seen. It molded to her hips and waist and pushed her breasts high for all to see. He noted with wry amusement that the men and women were already noticing. She paused at the door as Bridgette and Marion moved to greet her, and as Helena exchanged words with Bridgette, Lachlan studied both women under veiled lashes.

  Bridgette was a lass with a burning fire within her. The light and goodness she possessed sparkled in her bright-green eyes and her infectious smile. The way she wore her glorious flaming hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders let anyone who was observant know that she was not one to hold to normal societal rules, and the stubborn tilt of her chin served as a warning that she was not going to be meekly crossed or told what to do. Her porcelain skin beckoned to him, and the spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose stirred his curiosity and made him want to know how each one had come to be. She laughed then at something Marion said, and he found himself smiling.

  Helena, however, was a woman of cold calculation, and every bit of her demeanor and appearance displayed this. Her hair was swept up in what appeared to be an artful creation that must have taken some time and patience. No doubt, she had worn it thusly so her breasts would be on full display. Her eyes did not sparkle, and her laugh was devoid of true emotion. Her dress was meant to draw attention, unlike Bridgette’s simpler gown that would likely not garner much notice if not for the beautiful woman who wore it.

  Bridgette had a body that cried to be worshipped with lush curves and a glow of health while Helena was too thin and had the pallor of one who did not see the sun near enough. The women turned almost simultaneously and started toward the dais. Tension coiled through Lachlan. He wanted Bridgette who he could never have, and he perchance had to join with a woman he had never wanted. Fate was a cruel mistress, indeed.

  “The way ye’re staring at Helena,” Iain said, “I’d almost believe ye wanted her.”

  Lachlan barely contained the derisive noise that wanted release. Instead, he shrugged. “She’s a beautiful woman,” he replied. It might be best if his brother thought he wanted Helena. Then Iain would be freed from feeling any guilt over what Lachlan might need to do, and possibly would relinquish any suspicions of Lachlan desiring Bridgette.

  Marion paused in front of the dais and set her hands on her hips as Bridgette and Helena both seated themselves on either side of Lachlan. He had to force himself to turn to
Helena and not stare at Bridgette instead. “Are ye hungry?”

  Iain frowned at Lachlan, likely because the question was silly given she had just come to supper—and given he was supposed to be seducing her for information—but he could think of nothing clever to say at the moment. With Bridgette near, all he could think upon was how wonderful she smelled and how her heat radiated all around her.

  Helena leaned close to him and pressed her lips to his ear. “I’m hungry for ye,” she whispered, and he lurched back as if scalded. Her brow puckered, and he realized his mistake. He had to master his reactions or she would soon comprehend he did not desire her in the least.

  He smiled and leaned near her, acutely aware of Bridgette on his other side. Could she hear them? He hoped not. “And I for ye. Let us eat quickly and be done with the great hall.”

  Bridgette suddenly stood and moved quickly off the dais.

  “Where are ye away to?” Marion asked, concern lacing her tone.

  “I’m in need of fresh air,” Bridgette replied.

  “Take a care in the dark alone,” Helena said in a voice edged with poison.

  Bridgette must have heard the same sharpness as her gaze settled on Helena with a questioning look. “I’m nae worried about being alone in the dark, Helena. I ken how to defend myself.”

  “I’m so verra glad I’ve Lachlan to watch over me,” Helena responded, and then surprised Lachlan by brushing her hand down his cheek.

  He wanted to swat her hand away, but he grabbed her fingertips and kissed them, even as his gut twisted with protest. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bridgette staring at him with the look of a wounded animal. The misery on her face was so acute that intense pain and shock coiled in his gut. He had not mistaken her look earlier—she desired him as he did her. God’s teeth. He could not show so much as a hint of his own yearning, for both their sakes.