Taming a Laird's Wild Lady: Taming the Heart Series

by Tammy Andresen

  “And a wife could help you with little John,” her father returned easily.

  His eyes lit with surprise, the one emotion he hadn’t masked since his arrival. It vanished quickly, but the corners of his mouth turned down as his gaze swept over her, disapproval clear from the glance. Her own anger rose in her chest. It wasn’t at his disapproval, she told herself. Isla had just met the man, but she was being treated like cattle to be sold. Her fan snapped against her stomach again, clicking against the beads on her dress. Both men glanced at her.

  “With all due respect, Lord Maddox, I only need a lumber contract.”

  Isla stopped walking for a second, her anger ratcheting up another notch, but her father pulled her forward. Perhaps it was due, in part, to his dismissal of her personally. Though she couldn’t fathom why his opinion would matter. Yes, he was large and handsome, but she’d only known him for mere minutes.

  “Isabelle’s husband gets the contract. It’s a family business and will remain as such. As is the contract I received for the ships to begin with. Think it over.” Her father started to pull her away.

  Gavin leaned closer, his voice low. “I know that Fergal and Miss Isabelle have been… friends. Perhaps he would consider such a match.” His words caused heat to flush her cheeks and she nearly stamped her foot again. How dare he attempt to push her off on his brother?

  Her father gave a tiny jerk of his head, to indicate that Fergal was not an option.

  Digging in her heels, Isla halted their progress. “I’m not interested in you ei―” Her father held up his hand for her to stop. Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath, needing to get a hold of her emotional response to this conversation.

  While Fergal did not stir emotion within her, he was the one man here who accepted who she was, liked her, not for her beauty, but for herself. She could do far worse than Fergal Campbell. So why was her irritation at this entire conversation building inside her? Why did Gavin’s disinterest in marriage cut her so deeply?

  She pushed these thoughts aside. Better not to think on it and instead make sure he understood that she, in fact, did not care one wit about his lack of interest. She turned to tell him exactly that, but the scathing words about to fall from her lips suddenly went silent as she met his dark gray eyes. They were beautiful and penetrating and as hard as the lines of his face, and everything about him spoke of a power underneath only highlighted by the steel gray of his eyes. Another woman might have been frightened, but she was… invigorated.

  “Isla,” her father snapped.

  “Isla?” Gavin asked. Her name on his lips caused a tingling to spread through her body.

  “Aye.” She matched his subtle brogue with her own.

  “And why are you an island?” His gaze still held hers captive as he spoke the words.

  Everyone had stopped speaking, and all eyes were on them, their gazes burning into her back. Isla took a breath and then spread her fan, cooling her heating skin. Straightening her back, she attempted to give her own penetrating stare. “I am the only daughter.” It was the answer her mother and father wanted her to give, though it pained her slightly to do so. She was of a mind to tell him exactly what she was and then send him back to Scotland.

  Her family practically sighed with relief, and she could see everyone relax, but Gavin raised his eyebrows, glancing around the group. His lips parted slightly as he looked at the other members of her family and Isla was immediately drawn to his mouth. Full and soft, unlike the rest of his face. It was as if they called to her to touch them.

  “Why don’t we talk in my study?” Her father gestured toward the stairs and Gavin gave a single nod as he followed the other man. Unable to look away, Isla watched them until they were out of sight, cursing herself for doing so. He was clearly not interested in her, so why should she be drawn to him? Sighing to herself, she made a mental note to stay away from Gavin Campbell.

  * * *

  WITHIN THE HOUR, the other guests retired to their rooms or other activities, and Isla, for once, was thankful to return to hers. She entered the sanctuary and immediately called for her lady’s maid. She wanted a reprieve from the heavy clothing and unbearable corset.

  But before the woman could get her out of the blasted dress, another maid tapped on the door. “Excuse me, miss,” she called softly as she stepped inside. “Your father has requested you fetch your brother on the river. He is needed in the study.”

  Isla gave the woman a long look. Casting her gaze to the floor, the other woman curtseyed and left.

  “You’re going to scare Mary.” Elizabeth, her maid, chided lightly.

  “I didna mean to. But my father is up to something, and I canna decide what it might be.”

  “There must be someone down there he wants you to see.” Elizabeth shrugged.

  “I’m sure there is, one of the suitors most likely.” Isla grimaced at the thought. “I’ve only now left their company. Why must he force me to be with them again so soon.”

  “Patience is not a Maddox virtue.” Elizabeth winked at her then.

  Isla made a face, but turned to do as she was told, Elizabeth on her heel, to chaperone if necessary. There was no point vexing her father now. She made her way down the stairs and to the foyer. He was adamant on this front and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Another Maddox trait, she was sure.

  She stepped out into the sun, Elizabeth walking arm and arm with her, though her thoughts were on Gavin. Without him standing before her, she rationalized that she hadn’t responded to him personally but just to his rejection. It wasn’t that she cared about him or his broad shoulders and manly features. Simply, she would have been hurt by anyone being so obvious about not wanting her hand in marriage. Except of course, Angus. She’d gladly take his rejection any day.

  She reached the path to the swimming hole in the creek, and began to traverse the rocky terrain that led to the bank, using several trees for support. The small river eventually led to the ocean where her father had his shipping yard. The view opened a little ahead and Collin, Angus and Thomas where all basking in the water close to the bank. The creek ran fast this year with all the spring rain, so the men stayed close to the side. She didn’t see Gavin at all, though the trees didn’t allow much of a view.

  “Tom, Papa wants you,” she called to her brother.

  “What does he want?” Tom replied lazily.

  “If I knew, I would tell ye, but I doona.” She turned to leave, wanting to get back to her room and out of the corset.

  “Isla, help me out. I’ll never do it on my own.” Tom called, lifting one arm toward her, his shirt plastered to his skin. He appeared deep in the water, his head barely above the shore line. It always was higher with the tide, but with the spring rain, it ran unusually deep.

  Glancing back, she couldn’t see Elizabeth at all. The rocks were difficult to maneuver, dressed as they were, and Elizabeth must still have been traversing the path. “I’m not in much of a position to help.” She lifted her skirt to take a tentative step closer. The uneven ground made it impossible to see where she was going. As she looked at her feet, Tom jumped up and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the water. They had played such tricks many times, but Isla wasn’t usually in full dress when they did. She held herself for a second, then her balance gave out and she tipped into the creek. A howl of fury emitted from her mouth just before she splashed under its churning depths.

  Instantly, she realized she was in trouble. Though a strong swimmer, the corset restricted her breathing and movement and all of the clothing weighed her down. She crested her head above the water to see the men laughing, but the swift current dragged her back below the surface before she could yell for help. Kicking with all her might, she crested the water’s surface again to gasp for breath. Tom was nowhere to be seen and sheer panic clutched at her chest.

  Her head went back underwater and she kicked with every muscle in her lower body, her arms clawing to the surface, but the fear she wasn’t going to m
ake it ravaged her mind.

  Suddenly, strong hands wrapped around her torso and she shot to the surface. Delicious air filled her lungs as she gasped and gagged for more breath.

  3

  TAMING A LAIRD’S WILD LADY

  It can’t be the same woman ye’re talkin’ about. That one there would fit into every salon in London. She’s got the perfect frown marking her perfect face as she snaps her fan.” Gavin gave Fergal a dark look. Fergal sat in the river, while he lounged on the bank. A splendid way to spend such a hot afternoon. Just downstream, Tom sat with Angus and Collin, soaking their heated bodies.

  There was no denying Isla’s beauty. She looked like a Greek goddess with her hourglass figure and her flawless features. But he didn’t need perfectly beautiful; in fact, he didn’t need a wife at all. If he married again, it would not be a lady of society, that was for damn sure.

  “They don’t call her Isla because she’s the only girl. At least not for a long time. They call her that because she is an island among women.” Fergal shrugged. “It can be annoying when she outrides you, but it’s also…” he let his voice trail off with a shrug, and Gavin could see the longing on his brother’s face.

  He shook his head. He’d lived most of the last ten years in London. His wife had not liked Scotland. Finding it barren and boring, she had moped whenever they came. Emily was really only happy when they were in London. The balls, the parks, she had reveled in society. It had pained him to spend so much time away from his beloved home, and it had been even more difficult as his purse dried up. Emily would go into fits about not wearing the latest dresses, having expensive jewelry. “I can’t imagine there is a woman like that anywhere. One who sees beyond silk and lace.”

  “Oh, I don’t know what the Maddox family did to get Isla to put those clothes on. Though she looks delightful in them. Isla would trade every dress in her closet for a good horse.”

  Gavin had to bite back a smile. “You have feelings for Isla. Do you want to marry her?”

  Fergal sighed. “I don’t know. I like Isla, more than I like most women. She is beautiful beyond reason, but marriage? It would be emasculating to always be bested by her.” Fergal looked at him then said, “But you’re strong enough. You could tame a woman so wild.”

  Gavin grimaced at his brother. He could make Campbell Keep profitable without tying himself to a lady. Besides, the last thing he needed was more mouths to feed. He could barely keep up with the ones he already had. His first marriage taught him wives needed a man to finance them. By the end, he had wondered if it was the only thing Emily cared about. Though it could be true Isla didn’t want fancy clothes, what woman wanted to marry into near poverty? Even if Fergal was correct and she truly didn’t care, he wasn’t sure he could take such a risk again. If he were honest, Isla was beautiful enough to almost make it worth it. Almost.

  Raven hair and sparkling blue eyes were set in the most classically perfect features he had ever seen. Her breasts were not over large, but they looked as though they would fit a man’s hands nicely, as would her tiny waist. If not for the frown that had marked her lips, her mouth… He stopped his train of thought as the woman herself began picking her way toward the river.

  Gavin settled himself in the shade of a tree where he could watch without being seen. Isla approached, calling to her brother. Her tone was lighter, and it occurred to him that she moved rather awkwardly in her dress, not with the practiced skill of the ladies of London. Perhaps there was some merit to Fergal’s words. She pressed her hands against her stomach as though she was having difficulty breathing.

  Tom asked for help, and Gavin sat up. It seemed a ridiculous request to ask a woman in full receiving apparel and Gavin knew Tom to be a fine swimmer. But Isla moved toward him as though she would help. Something made his skin prickle. In part because this did not sit with the picture he had drawn of her, and a woman dressed as she was shouldn’t be so close to the edge.

  Horror gripped him as her brother laughingly pulled her in the water. In a single motion, he jumped from his spot under the tree and, with one step, dove into the water. He didn’t look at his brother or the others, but he could hear their laughter. They had no idea what Tom had done.

  He rose to the surface and kicked as hard as he could, cursing as his boots slowed him down. Isla crested the water, gasping for breath and hope surged in his chest. It was near impossible to pull herself up in all the clothes she was wearing. Her head bobbed back under and he doubled his efforts.

  Surfacing again, Gavin could see the panic on her face and he pushed as hard as he could. There was hope if she had just gotten a breath of air. As though in slow motion, he drew closer to her and finally got his hands around her waist, yanking her up from underneath the water.

  It was as though he were pulling a water-soaked log, that was how heavy she felt. How she had ever kicked to the surface, he couldn’t say. She clenched his shoulders and kicked her legs, proving what Fergal had intimated. Isla was a fighter. Together, they made it to the bank, and Gavin grabbed the trunk of a small tree growing there. The water still pulled at their bodies, but her arms locked around his neck, allowing him to use both hands to pull them free of the current’s grasp.

  Heaving them both onto the bank, Gavin wrapped his arms around Isla’s waist again and she clung to him, as though clinging to life. He squeezed her tight, knowing she had almost been lost. Their gasping breaths and the flow of the water, the only sound while Gavin marveled he could have been so wrong in his first impression of this woman.

  Finally, she lifted her head and those crystal blue eyes met his. “Take off my dress,” she pushed out between breaths.

  “What?” Gavin was almost never surprised. Life had shown him too many dark secrets in his thirty years, but those words had been completely unexpected. Worry coursed through him, but he had to admit, at least to himself, that desire pulsed as well. He was a man, and a woman as beautiful as her begging him to undress her made his body respond in ways that had long been dormant.

  “I canna breath. Take it off,” she repeated, her eyes growing larger.

  Shaking off his thoughts, and he grabbed at the fabric in the back, tearing it apart as buttons flew everywhere. Her hands left his shoulders to yank at the sleeves, and he gave another tug so the gown now pooled at her waist. “Better?” His voice was wracked by heaves as he kept his gaze on her face, refusing to look lower, not acknowledging the heat building in his loins.

  “No, now the corset too.” She collapsed back on his chest, molding to him.

  Reaching for the strings, he tugged until finally they came loose. A whoosh of breath released from her, and then she gasped in a fresh one. Grabbing the corset, she pulled to loosen it and then rolled free of him, wriggling until the gown and corset were off her body. Lying on her back, her chest rose in heaving sobs with naught but her shift and pantaloons plastered to her body. His gaze snapped back to her face, not allowing his mind to wander to lustful places.

  Gavin rolled to his side, then brought his had to her chest. Her heart was beating so fast, a new fear gripped him. His lips found her ear. “Slow your breathing. You’re fine, but you need to calm yourself. Nice and easy now.”

  She took a slower breath and then another. Her heart stopped fluttering as though a bird were in her chest and steadied to a nice slow rhythm. Gavin finally looked away from her face and ran his gaze up and down her body, intending to check for injuries. He would not think of anything else, but his vision was assaulted by the picture she made. Dark hair slicked back from her face, highlighting her stunning features, and large blue eyes penetrated to his soul. He’d been right about her breasts. Not overly large, yet plump and perfect. Her tiny waist was accentuated by her flat stomach and rounded hips and, thanks to her soaked pantaloons, he could see the outline of her very muscular legs. He’d never thought of a woman’s legs being so formed, however, but the sight filled him with a longing he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before.

  His hand
was still on her chest, and he balled it into a fist in her chemise to keep from running it over her body. “Are ye hurt?” Even to his own ears, his brogue was thicker.

  Shaking her head, she tentatively spoke. “Just scared out of my wits. Thank you.” Her statement took him by surprise. Most women would be wailing and fainting, but here she lay, declaring herself nothing but frightened. Her breathing sped up again, and her heartbeat quickened as her gaze lingered on his lips. She wanted him. The thought was intoxicating, and it addled his already foggy brain. Nothing in the world could stop him as he lowered his head to bring his lips to hers.

  Except, of course, the sound of her several men running and screaming toward them. “Isla, Isla, are ye all right?”

  For some reason, Gavin did not want any of these men to see Isla in her state of undress. It was an entirely new sensation that was remarkably like possessiveness, though why would he ever feel that about a woman he had only met an hour ago? Ripping off his wet coat, he draped it over her.

  She grabbed it and, sitting up, pushed her arms through the sleeves. Tom, Fergal, and Angus came running toward them, as Gavin pulled the coat closed.

  It took a moment for Gavin to register what Isla was looking for as she searched the ground, but her hand landed on small rock and, without a word, she fisted it and took aim at her brother. With deadly accuracy, the rock shot through the air and hit Tom square between the eyes.

  Tom dropped to the ground like a stone himself, and Isla put her hands on her hips.

  “If you ever pull a fool stunt like that again, I’ll kill you myself.” She raged with a fury Gavin couldn’t have thought possible. He couldn’t help it; he smiled. Perhaps there was some truth to Fergal’s words after all. In all honesty, he doubted he could have thrown with such accuracy. His brother said it was emasculating, but Gavin found it… intoxicating.

  He stood and reached down with both hands, grasping hers. Her hands fit perfectly into his as he pulled her into a standing position. Without the dress, she was light as a feather. His own shirt was still plastered to his chest and his kilt was dripping water, for one second, she rested her head against his chest. They were in full view of the others, and though he shouldn’t, his arms snaked around her as he pressed her body to his one last time like he as though it were the most natural thing in the world.