My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3)

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My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3) Page 11

by Maeve Greyson


  Ronan followed her down the steps but pulled to a stop when they drew even with the car.

  “What’s wrong?” Mairi opened the passenger-side door then slid the laptop bag off Ronan’s shoulder and placed it in the backseat.

  Ronan stared at the car and backed up a step. The poor man looked as though he feared the car was some strange monster about to swallow him alive. “I dinna…” Ronan’s voice trailed off into a husky cough. He ran his tongue across his lips and shook his head. “I dinna…ride…well.”

  Mairi noted the pallor around Ronan’s mouth. Poor man. He definitely seemed a bit green around the gills. “Oh, motion sickness. I understand completely. My sister Kenna heaves at the drop of a hat no matter what kind of vehicle she rides in.”

  “Aye.” Ronan abruptly bobbed his head up and down in agreement. “Aye. Sickness. Terrible heavin’ whenever I ride.”

  Mairi pulled the keys from her pocket and held them out to Ronan. “Here. You drive, then. That always helped Kenna.”

  Ronan jumped back a step, holding both hands up in the air as though Mairi was attempting to hand him a snake. “Nay. I canna drive that beast. I canna do it.”

  Damn. What a reaction. Mairi glanced into the auto, her gaze landing on the gearshift situated between the two front seats. “It’s not a five speed. It’s an automatic.” Maybe that’s what scared him, and if it was, she didn’t really blame him. She didn’t like that whole-foot-on-the-clutch-then-shift-the-gear stuff either. “I know it kind of looks like a five speed, but it’s not. I promise.” She jangled the keys toward him.

  Ronan backed up another step with a quick shake of his head. “Nay. I cannot.”

  It was times like this that Kenna’s little trick of walking into minds would come in really handy. Mairi studied Ronan, assessing him as best she could. Rapid breathing. Pale skin. Vein throbbing in his neck. The man was about to panic himself into a stroke.

  Mairi shrugged, silencing the rattling keys as she drew them away. She owed him. He’d been more than patient with her when she’d heaved her donation to the porcelain altar. “It’s okay. Calm down. I’ll drive. If you feel sick, simply let me know in time to stop so you can toss your cookies on the side of the road.”

  “Toss my cookies,” Ronan slowly repeated.

  “Barf.” Mairi bounced around the car and slid behind the wheel.

  Ronan bent and looked at her through the open passenger door. “Barf?”

  This was getting ridiculous and she was running out of terms for vomiting. “Just get in.” She patted the seat beside her. “I’ll take it slow and easy. I promise.”

  Ronan’s gaze darted about the car’s interior as he slid into the seat so slowly it seemed almost painful. Knuckles white, each of his hands tensed into fists uneasily balanced atop his thighs. He lifted his chin and stared straight ahead as he spoke. “Get on with it, then. I am ready.”

  “Uhm…” Mairi bit her lip. The man was terrified beyond reason. She glanced across him at the still wide-open car door then shook her head. Nah. I better just shut it for him. She slid out of the car and jogged around to Ronan’s side. Before shutting the door, she yanked the shoulder harness across his chest and clicked it into place. “Gotta keep you safe.” She patted his chest then closed the door. Poor man. How in the world did he ever get anywhere he needed to go?

  Mairi slid back into her seat and started the engine. Ronan’s eyes widened and his hands clutched at his knees. “I promise I’ll go slow. You’ll be fine.” Mairi studied Ronan closer; cold sharp fingers of suspicion pricked her awareness like so many needles. An uneasy certainty settled across her mind. “You’ve never been in a car before, have you?”

  Ronan eased in a deep breath then jerked himself back against the seat. “I’ve never been in a car…this small.”

  Damn, I wish I could read your mind. His excuse seemed plausible enough. Maybe she was being oversensitive to any particular weirdness because of her lingering hangover. “I’m a very safe driver. I promise.” She punched the button to the garage door, and watched in the rearview mirror as it slowly opened.

  As she backed down the driveway and into the street, she could’ve sworn Ronan hissed something in a language she didn’t quite understand. A glance over at his wide-eyed expression confirmed it. The man was muttering a constant stream of words under his breath as he stared straight ahead.

  “Are you Catholic?” Mairi paused at the intersection.

  “Catholic?” Ronan’s knuckles popped in rapid succession as she took off and the car merged into Edinburgh’s busy morning traffic.

  “Yeah.” Mairi nodded as she turned the wheel to the right and switched lanes. “It sounded like you were reciting a rosary or something when I backed out of the driveway.” Traffic was heavier than usual. So much for the nice quiet ride she’d promised him. The best she could do was get him there as quickly as possible.

  Ronan sank deeper into the seat as Mairi pressed harder on the gas pedal and zipped down a side street. Elbows locked, he flattened his hands against the dash, bared his teeth, and closed his eyes. “Must the bastard move so rapidly?”

  “Sorry.” Mairi slowed the vehicle as much as she dared in the heavy traffic. Better forget about a stop for coffee. He’d have a heart attack if she took him through the traffic at Ollie’s. “We’re almost there. You’re not getting sick are you?”

  Ronan didn’t speak, just jerked his head from side to side.

  “See? We’re here.” Mairi punched a button on the remote clipped to the visor. A gate comprised of glossy black ironwork obediently swung aside long enough for her to pull the car into the alley. As soon as she shut off the engine, the gate of bars slowly slid shut behind the car.

  Ronan yanked at the strap across his chest, jerking frantically at the mechanism holding it in place. “I would be free of this beast. Release me at once.” The small car rocked as he thrashed back and forth.

  “Ronan—stop!” Mairi shook his arm, leaning toward him to cup her other hand along his jaw. “It’s okay. I’ll get you loose. You’ve got to calm down.”

  Eyes wild and strangely dark, Ronan forced his hands away from the seatbelt. A low deep growl rumbled from him as he turned his face aside, jerking away from her touch.

  Mairi released the mechanism and tossed the shoulder strap aside. She had to get him out of here. His behavior worried her. She feared he was about to have some sort of seizure. She hopped out of the car and ran around to his side, yanking the door wide open. “Ronan. Breathe deep. Fresh air. Come on. We’ll walk around on the back patio for a bit and get you some fresh air.”

  “What’s going on?” Lilia called from the doorway. “Is he all right?”

  Ronan rolled out of the car, crouching beside the vehicle as he shuddered in deep heaving breaths. Mairi knelt beside him, laying a hand against his shoulder. The man was burning up. How could an attack of motion sickness fill him with fever?

  “Dinna touch me,” Ronan growled out, shying away from her hand. “Leave me…for a bit.” His words were strained as though it took all his strength to say them. “Allow me…time…to recover.”

  Mairi slowly rose and backed away. Poor man. He didn’t want her to witness him being ill. She understood completely. “I’m going to go inside. I’ll have Lilia fix some chamomile tea. Just come inside whenever you’re ready. Okay?”

  Ronan held up a hand and waved her away while keeping his face turned away from her.

  Mairi hurried up the stone steps to the patio, shooing Lilia back inside. “I think he’s sick and it’s about to kill his pride for us to see him that way. Come on. He’ll come find us when he’s better.”

  —

  It took every ounce of control he’d ever known to keep his wolf from taking over. Ronan sucked in great gasps of air, straining against the inner beast fighting to emerge. The unnerving ride in the wicked car had nearly pushed him too far. Lore a’ mighty. What would Mairi have done if he’d shifted right before her eyes?

 
; Frigid air. Razor-sharp stones biting into his hands. Every physical sensation anchored him, gave him strength against the overwhelming urge to stretch into a loping run then throw back his head and howl.

  A sharp wind scurried a tangle of twigs past him, spoke to him in hushed tones, feeding him energy from the land. Ronan finally pushed himself to his feet, staggered uneven steps forward, then flexed his chest and shoulders against the burn to drop to all fours and run.

  Ronan tucked his chin to his chest, closed his eyes, and opened his mind to every thought and memory related to Mairi. My lass will keep me human. My lass will sate my wolf. He breathed in the warm sweet scent of her still lingering in the air. He envisioned the way her eyes crinkled at the corners whenever she smiled. Her voice. The honey of her soft mouth and the feel of her arms holding him close. Ronan sucked in a deep breath, relaxing as the raging beast inside him gradually lulled and crept back into dormancy.

  Slowly straightening with the support of the brick building at his back, Ronan opened his eyes. It was over. His wolf had finally quieted back into the dark recesses of his soul. He scrubbed a hand across his face. Lore a’mighty. I need whisky. He wound his way up the stone steps and pushed through the door.

  A high-pitched yapping cloud of fur bounced around his feet, barely warning him before the little dog grabbed hold of his trews and started growling. Ronan nudged the snarling ball of fury to one side, wrinkling his nose as he walked deeper into the softly lit shop.

  Warm scents of cinnamon and cloves ushered him into the room lit with flickering candles and softly glowing globes of golden light suspended above waist-high counters littered with colored jars and neatly wrapped bundles.

  Ronan made his way around the islands of spices and oils strategically scattered about the high-ceilinged spacious shop. “Mairi?” His voice echoed over the soft music floating through the void as the heels of his boots clicked against the honey-colored wood floor.

  “We’re back here.” Mairi pushed through a beaded curtain sparkling iridescent in the soft lighting. “Are you feeling better? We’ve got some weak tea ready that’s guaranteed to settle your stomach.”

  Weak tea? He didna need a weak tea. He needed a healthy dram of whisky. Ronan swiped his damp palms down the rough seams of his jeans then rubbed his hands together. “Aye. I am much better than before.” Still dragging the little dog attached to the hem of one leg, Ronan made his way back to the privacy of the room set off behind a beaded curtain.

  “Buzz!” Lilia hurried forward, scooped one hand under the little dog, and disengaged his teeth from Ronan’s pant leg. She lifted the snarling little fur ball to eye level and shook a finger in his face. “We don’t latch onto friends or family. Remember?” The pup’s tiny pointed ears drooped as he bowed his head and whined. Lilia’s stern expression immediately softened and she cuddled him under her chin.

  “Buzz?” Mairi cast a sideways glance at the dog tucked against Lilia’s neck as she took Ronan by the hand and led him to a small table situated in the corner of the room.

  “He reminds me of a buzz saw.” Lilia held out the little dog. “Wanna hold him?”

  “No, thank you.” Mairi shook her head as she placed a steaming mug on the table in front of Ronan. “Try to sip it slowly. It’ll settle your stomach.”

  Ronan eyed the clear golden liquid. Tendrils of steam rose from the white ceramic cup. Foam swirled around what looked to be knots of tiny yellow flowers floating on the surface. God’s beard. He’d have to strain that swill through clenched teeth. He’d seen this tea before. Mother had instructed him in its making the year Graham had suffered the decimating head cold. Ronan politely slid the cup to the center of the table. He’d no’ be drinkin’ a bit of that mess. “I’m much better. I thank ye for yer concern.”

  With a snort, Lilia plopped the little dog in his pillowed basket in the corner. “You’ve got a lot to learn about men, sis.” She reached deep into the cabinet lining the far wall and came out with a promising-looking bottle of amber liquid. Lilia winked at Ronan then held up the bottle to Mairi. “Your fine chieftain would probably prefer a healthy swig of Highlander’s tea to soothe his nerves after a wild ride through Edinburgh.”

  “It was not a wild ride.” Mairi snatched the bottle out of Lilia’s hand and turned to Ronan. “I supposed you prefer whisky over tea?”

  Ronan daren’t laugh. Lore a’mighty. If he did, he’d never get a taste of that blessed water of life. With the solemnest tone he could muster, he pushed the mug of tea even farther away. “A wee dram wouldna be unwelcome.”

  Mairi rolled her eyes, snatched up the mug of tea, and dumped it in the sink. “Fine. My driving wasn’t that bad.” She uncorked the bottle, filled the cup half full, and returned it to Ronan.

  Before she could take her hand away from the mug, Ronan cupped his hands around hers. “Yer a fine brave lass to be able to control such a beast.” He stroked his thumb up and down the silk of her wrist. “Yer a wonder, Mairi.”

  Ronan didn’t miss Mairi’s sharp intake of breath nor the way her lovely skin pinked to a warm delightful shade from the collar of her shirt to her hairline. What he wouldn’t give to trail his fingertips along that rosy path to where it disappeared into the vee of her shirt and then kiss his way down her torso. “A lovely wonder,” he added in a husky whisper.

  Mairi eased her hands away, tucking them behind her back as she straightened. “Drink your tonic,” she ordered with a nod down at the cup.

  Ronan brought the welcome libation to his lips, savoring the nerve-steadying burn as he relished the subtle pleased expression brightening Mairi’s face. Aye. Strange unholy things or no’, his trip to this time was no’ wasted. Mairi was the one.

  “Can you two take Buzz back to the house? I don’t think he’ll fit in very well with the bridal shower I’ve got booked this afternoon.” Lilia plopped a basket of tiny odd-size bottles decorated with black and white ribbons on the table. “The bride-to-be picked out these as favors for her guests. What do you think? I’m not sure it’s such a great idea.”

  Mairi plucked one of the bottles out of the basket, uncorked it, and took a hesitant sniff. Nose wrinkling and eyes squinting shut, she immediately recorked the bottle and dropped it back in the basket. “Ugh. What is that? I can’t even begin to identify that smell.”

  Lilia held one of the bottles out to Ronan. “I’m not gonna say until Ronan’s had a whiff.” She smiled and dropped the beribboned bottle in his hand. “Tell me what you think it is.”

  Ronan rolled the tiny bottle between his thumb and forefingers, eyeing the dark mysterious liquid sliding up and down inside the vial. He carefully pulled the cork free and wafted the bottle under his nose. The rancid contents of the bottle set the lining of his nose on fire. Ronan hastily shoved the cork back in the bottle, squinting against the stinging tears burning in his eyes. “That should be burned. ’Tis turned and gone bad.”

  Lilia plopped the bottle back in the basket. “I agree, but the bride-to-be says it’s her mother’s very own fertility blend guaranteed to make a baby in the first year of her marriage.”

  Ronan wiped the tears from his eyes as he rose and moved away from the table. “No man will go near a woman smelling of that.”

  “Why is she giving fertility oils away as bridal favors? Are all her friends wanting to get pregnant?” Mairi rubbed the back of her hand across the end of her nose, still eyeing the basket of noxious oils as though it were an evil entity.

  Lilia frowned as she tapped a finger atop the handle of the basket. “I’m not sure what’s going on in this chick’s head. From all the plans I’ve seen regarding her bridal shower, it’s more like a party to rub her friends’ noses in it and tell them all to go straight to hell.”

  “And you’re going to have it here at the shop? Aren’t you concerned about negative publicity?” Mairi edged closer to Ronan and poured a bit more whisky into his cup. “Here. You probably need another swig after smelling that mess.”

  “Ay
e.” Ronan nodded and thankfully breathed in the pleasant fumes wafting up from the alcohol. He waved his mug toward the basket on the table. “Poor woman doesna sound as though she has any true friends.”

  “True friends are rare in this day and age.” Mairi’s face darkened as her gaze lowered. “It’s hard to know who you can really trust. Not everyone is truthful.”

  Ronan stole a quick glance at Mairi then at Lilia. The two seemed caught up in their own silent conversation. Uneasiness pricked icy tingles across his flesh. Had they somehow discovered the truth about him? Had Mistress Eliza no’ kept his confidence?

  Mairi blinked hard and shook her head as though shaking herself free of some sort of hold. “We better be going if you want us to get Buzz out of here before the party.” She pointed to the tiny dog currently curled up in a tight fuzzy ball, asleep in his basket. “Do you have a carrier here or a leash?” Mairi leaned back toward Ronan, a wicked grin curving her lips. “Just think, you get to hold your new best friend in your lap all the way home.”

  “Nay.” Ronan shook his head. No way in hell was he getting back in that monstrosity of a horseless carriage. “I dinna care if I have to walk for a week and a day, I’m not riding anymore.”

  Mairi glared up at him as she bent to pick up the puppy. “I can’t believe you want to walk home. It’s supposed to rain again today. Maybe even snow.”

  “It’s raining right now,” Lilia interjected with a nod toward the window. The sky had turned a murky gray and water droplets had already splattered the glass. A gust of wind rattled sleet against the pane.

  “A bit of rain ne’er hurt a man.” Ronan shrugged his plaid about his shoulders and hooded it over his head. “Take the wee dog in yer riding machine. I shall walk.”

 

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