Alec extended his hand to her. "A pleasure to meet you, Natasha." He attempted to get up, but sank back down, clutching his head as he moaned.
"Stay put for a few minutes," Ian advised.
Alec glowered at Ian. "You didn't have to clobber me like that. I wouldn't steal your girl, bonnie as she is," he said with a rakish smile.
"Why were you breaking in here?" Ian asked, rocking back on his heels.
“The door was bolted from the inside,” Alec retorted. “What are you doing here? Not that I mind you using the place, but I would’ve liked to know before so as not to think it's a burglar."
Ian raised his brows and gestured to the sparse surroundings. "You don’t have to worry about anything getting stolen," he observed dryly.
Alec chuckled, and then sobered when he saw the rifle. "Good thing you didn’t shoot.”
"I was planning to until I saw it was you," Ian returned, rising to his feet. He picked up the rifle and placed it beside the fireplace.
Alec rubbed his aching head. "Well, it's good to see you too.”
Ian pulled Alec to his feet and hugged him, clapping his back enthusiastically. His childhood friend had grown into a big bear of a man, several inches taller than Ian who was six foot two.
"How long are you staying on?" Alec asked, looking from Ian to Natasha.
"I’m not sure. How did you know we were here?" Ian asked.
"I didn’t know it. I just got into town myself and wanted to check on the old place," Alec replied.
A strong gust of air rattled the open shutters and Natasha hurried to the window. Rising on her tiptoes, she leaned forward to close the shutters while struggling to keep the blanket secured around her.
Ian bolted forward and was at her side in an instant. "I’ll do that. Get dressed. You almost mooned Alec," he whispered, raising the blanket from where it had slid down to reveal a bare expanse of Natasha’s lithe back and shapely hips.
Natasha's face reddened as she clutched the blanket in front of her. She rushed to the bed and retrieved her clothes. Holding them against her chest, she faced the men. "I'd like a little privacy to get dressed."
"It's too late for modesty, lassie," Alec pointed out with a hearty chuckle. "But if you insist, we'll turn our backs."
Ian grabbed Alec’s arm and led him to the door. "We’re going outside while Tasha gets dressed.”
“Ah, Tasha is it?” Alec said with a mild lift of his brows.
Ian shot him a meaningful look. “Tasha to me.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Let’s go.”
Alec didn’t move a muscle. “Ordinarily, I’d agree to go outside, but it’s cozy in here.”
"Outside," Ian said, nudging him out the door.
When he closed the door with a thump, Natasha got dressed quickly, then walked to the door and called out, "You can come in now."
Ian’s gaze swept over her as he entered with Alec, his close inspection making sure she was decent before they entered further. Natasha smiled, amused by his show of propriety.
"Oh dear, I have a pissy headache,” Alec droned in an imitation of an old lady’s voice, making Natasha grin and Ian choke on a laugh. “Have you got a wee dram to fix me up?"
"Aye there’s plenty,” Ian said. He crossed over to a rustic oak sideboard and poured two shots of whiskey for them.
"Ahhh, that’s good stuff,” Alec said, taking a long pull. He seated himself at the table across from Natasha and Ian, watching them with a smile.
“How do you know Ian?" Natasha said, noting how at ease Alec looked leaning back with his shoulders relaxed and his big hands on his muscular thighs.
"Him?” Alec said, indicating Ian with his chin. “Your man and I practically grew up together.”
Ian nodded. "We’ve known each other for years.” His face sobered as he looked at Alec kindly. “Aunt Maggie told me about Bessie’s passing. I'm sorry, Alec.”
"Aye, well she was getting on in years. Would have been ninety this December," Alec said fondly.
"Who's Bessie?" Natasha asked.
"My granny. The dear wee tyrant," Alec said, his robust voice softening. “Kept me in line, that one.”
"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss," Natasha said, enjoying Alec’s charm.
Alec downed his glass of whiskey in one neat gulp. His eyes, the color of golden sherry, twinkled devilishly at Natasha. "What about you, luv? Won’t you drink with us?"
“Yes, I think I will. A shot of whiskey is just what I need to warm up,” she said, hugging herself.
“Oh? Ian’s not doing his job then,” Alec teased, hiking his bushy brows.
Ian didn’t rise to the bait as he got up and poured a glass for Natasha and refilled his and Alec’s glasses.
Natasha took a sip and coughed slightly as the pungent liquid seared her throat. She pointed to the whiskey and shot glasses. "When did you pack those?" she asked Ian.
"Dugie packed it up for us. No Scotsman is ever without his fine malt whiskey," Ian said with a cocky grin.
"Amen!" Alec clapped Ian’s back. "What brings you here, MacGregor?"
"I’m keeping Natasha out of harm’s way," he said in a level tone.
Alec’s eyebrows knotted over curious eyes. “What do you mean?”
Ian told Alec about the flash drive and Natasha being in danger. When he was finished, Natasha added a detailed description of Rico. By the time they filled him in on everything, Alec’s jovial face had turned solemn.
"Stay here as long as you need. I'll help any way I can," he said gravely.
"Thanks. Alec is the private investigator I mentioned earlier," Ian said to Natasha.
"I used to work for Scotland Yard, but I'm on my own now," Alec said.
There had to be two sides to Alec’s personality. He was a real lady killer with a ready grin and twinkling eyes. Natasha couldn’t imagine him in Scotland Yard on a case, but he had to be a good investigator if he had worked there.
"Alec's a regular Sherlock Holmes. He also owns this house," Ian said.
“I figured as much,” Natasha said, “about the house that is.” She leaned back and regarded Alec with interest. “Ian told me this cottage was abandoned because it’s haunted by the ghosts of Flora MacDonald and Bonnie Prince Charlie."
Alec rocked back in his chair and threw his head back. Laughter rumbled from his chest. "Ian's been teasing you, lassie."
"I thought so,” she said, shaking a fist at Ian.
Ian gave a humorous lift of his brows, but didn’t say anything.
"He’s partially right about it being abandoned. Nobody has used it since I moved to London," Alec said.
"Were you planning on staying here tonight?" Natasha asked.
Alec shook his head. "No, I'm staying with my sister, Eileen. Our family house is two miles down the road." He gingerly rubbed his head where Ian had clubbed him. "I’m going to have a goose-size egg on my head tomorrow."
"Sorry about that. Your face will look like a skelped arse from the way you landed on it." Ian grinned. "Who knows? It might improve your appearance."
"Get it up ye, MacGregor. Too bad it wasn’t yours," Alec replied good-naturedly. He eyed the rumpled cot and his wry expression showed he realized he’d interrupted an intimate moment. "I'll be leaving now. Thanks for the whiskey. It helped clear my head."
Ian jotted numbers on a napkin and handed it to Alec. "Here’s my cell number in case you need to reach us. Or if you have information on Rico."
“Good. Let me give you mine,” Alec said, reciting numbers. Ian programmed it on his phone as they walked with Alec to the door.
"Sleep well and don't let any ghosts in," Alec said, smiling. “Nice meeting you, Natasha.”
Natasha smiled back. “You too, Alec.”
After Alec left, Ian lay on the bed with his hands folded behind his head. Natasha turned her back and pulled her sweater off, giving him a glimpse of her bare back before she dropped a flannel nightgown over her head and was instantly engulfed in yards of fabric. The
nightgown was wide and short on her, barely reaching her legs mid-calf.
"What the hell is that?” Ian asked, sounding alarmed.
With her back still turned, Natasha stifled a giggle as she reached under the gown's hem and pulled off her jeans and panties. "It’s my sexy nightie. Where's the bathroom?"
"The only loo is outside, behind the bushes," he said in a voice laden with irony.
Natasha whirled around and stared at him. "You’re kidding. Please say you’re kidding.”
“Sorry. Can’t help you there, angel. I told you the facilities were primitive.”
“But you didn’t mention there wasn’t a bathroom,” she said, willing one to miraculously appear.
Ian shook his head in disbelief. “Didn’t you realize that when you walked in here? Where did you think it was?” he asked, regarding her with an arched brow.
“I don’t know. Attached to the side somewhere? I hate having to go out there at night," she wailed. “There could be coyotes or snakes lurking around.”
“More likely a sheep is what you’ll encounter,” he said calmly.
“I’m scared of them too,” she said. “I’m sorry about making a fuss, but I can’t help it.”
He gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. “You’ll be fine. Just be quick about it. I'll stand guard nearby."
“No thanks. Stay at a distance.” A hot flush rose to her cheeks as she reached for her bag of toiletries. "What wild animals should I watch out for?"
"Only this one when we get back," he said baring strong, white teeth in a wolfish grin.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She sighed and straightened her shoulders. “Okay, time to suck it up,” she muttered. Pulling a sweater over her nightgown, she shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed a flashlight.
Still wearing his jeans, Ian shrugged into his leather jacket—without a shirt. The sight of his muscular chest beneath the leather made Natasha stop and stare, but this wasn’t the time to admire him. Forcing steel into her backbone, she cautiously ventured outside in search of a secluded area with enough foliage to give her privacy to relieve her bladder. Holding a lantern, Ian followed behind and waited at a distance.
“I’ll be taking a piss, so don’t return too soon,” he called out chuckling.
Several moments later when Natasha returned to his side, her teeth were chattering. “Brrr. Is it always this cold in the fall?”
“It’s not Baltic. The wind makes it feel colder than it is,” Ian said, putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked back.
The minute Natasha entered the cottage, she removed her boots with icy fingers and crawled into bed. Keeping the sweater over her nightgown, she pulled the covers up to her chin, wishing it could warm her frozen nose.
"Where did you get the sexy nightie?" Ian asked, lips twitching.
"Very funny. It’s your Aunt Maggie’s. She left it in the guest room for me."
Ian’s face eased into a slow smile. "Come here, angel. I'll warm you up." His rich, seductive voice turned Natasha’s insides to mush.
“I wish I could, but I’m chilled from head to toe. I can barely move,” she said, watching him undress. “You are a true Highlander. I can’t believe you’re not cold.”
“I’m far from cold,” he said, grabbing a condom and advancing on her. He nudged Natasha on her side away from him and spooned her body with his as he wrapped her in a warm embrace Natasha’s chilled skin began to thaw at the feel of his hot, muscular length engulfing her. She moaned with pleasure when his firm hands eased her nightgown up and began to knead and massage her all over until she was sizzling and panting with need.
“I want you. Now,” he growled in her ear, causing gooseflesh along her spine as his warm, big hands cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples.
“Take me,” she urged, rubbing against his rigid member.
Ian’s arm held her back anchored against his chest as he burrowed his face in her neck and slid into her throbbing feminine core. His fingers skillfully stroked the slick nub of her arousal, pleasuring her until she came with a scorching orgasm, followed by his explosive one.
“Warmer now?” he rasped, his breath tickling her ear.
“On fire,” she said, barely catching her breath.
Hours later, they fell asleep listening to the wind rustling through the trees outside.
The following morning, Natasha awoke to the glorious sight of a Celtic mist hovering over the black Cuillin Mountains. Ian stood by the open shutters and smiled at her. "Wake up, angel."
"Good morning," Natasha said, smiling back. Memories of how he’d pleasured her last night over and over again, making her body burst into flames, made her pulse quicken. Ian looked more relaxed than he had in the past week. The open smile on his face reminded her of how he’d been many years ago. “It’s nice to see you looking cheerful,” she said.
"Holding you captive in a haunted house does wonders for my mood," he teased, silvery eyes twinkling. His lighthearted mood was infectious and Natasha marveled at how gorgeous he looked against the backdrop of the mountains.
The sky was a misty pewter color and the cool morning air entered the room filling it with the sweet smell of peat bogs drifting in from the coast. She pulled a sweater over her nightgown, wishing there was an indoor bathroom to bathe and groom in.
“I’ll be right back,” she mumbled as she stepped into her boots and zipped them up.
The moment she stepped outside, cold air seeped into her bones as the wind swept under the hem of her nightgown just above the edge of her boots. But every inconvenience was erased by the glorious sight of leaves turned to gold. She paused to breathe in deeply, filling her expanded lungs with fresh mountain air as she took in the trees ablaze with autumn colors.
When she returned to the cottage, Ian had made coffee and was setting out rolls and cheese. Natasha placed a sprig of wild flowers she’d picked on the way back in a whiskey shot glass and set it on the table as she joined him.
“Looks lovely. Thanks,” she said, biting into one of the yeast rolls. She took a sip of the steaming coffee. "I wonder how Arthur is doing. I hope my smartphone works here in the wilderness."
"Try it now. I want to know too."
She dialed Maggie to let her know they’d made it safely to Skye. Relieved and happy to hear that Arthur was doing fine and enjoying his time with Evita, Natasha made the bed after breakfast and straightened the cottage. Ian went outside to bathe and returned with his dark hair damp and curling slightly at the neck. A towel was wrapped around his waist, leaving his muscled torso bare as his broad shoulders filled the doorway. Natasha's heart skipped a beat when she saw the heat in his eyes.
“The sun is out and the stream isn't too cold once you get inside." His smile held an open invitation. "If you want to bathe, I'll rub you down when you come out."
She was tempted by the prospect of being rubbed down by Ian's strong hands, but she couldn’t imagine jumping into an icy stream. "No way. I'll turn blue in that water."
Ian came up to her and shook his head, sprinkling her face with cool droplets of water. "What a diva," he scoffed. "There was a time when you would have jumped in beside me. Your cushy life in New York has spoiled you."
"No, it hasn’t,” she said, rising to the challenge. “Where's the damn stream?"
“Come with me,” Ian said, grabbing towels from the suitcase. He led Natasha to a gurgling silver stream at a short distance, but when she saw the trout inside, she recoiled instantly.
"I changed my mind. There are big fish in there," she said backing away.
No sooner had she blurted that out, than Ian threw off his towel and lifted her up. Holding her tight, he jumped in the stream with a shout of laughter. The oversized nightgown billowed around Natasha like a parachute, revealing her naked body as she came up to the surface, gasping.
“You beast! If I get bitten by a trout, it’ll be your fault!” she yelled, adding every obscenity she knew. Laughing wickedly, Ian grabbed her squ
irming waist and pulled her in for a kiss. He devoured her chilled lips and tasted deep inside her mouth. When he pulled the nightgown over her head and off, Natasha pushed at his chest and managed to break away. Filling her mouth with water she spewed it in his face. While he sputtered, she turned abruptly and neatly dived away from him. Ian growled and chased her. He reached her in seconds and they wrestled playfully. Laughing and out of breath, she finally went limp in his arms and tried to slip away, but Ian didn’t relax his grip. He tickled her until she was giggling helplessly. He finally let go and she splashed water in his face.
When she reached the shore, she climbed out with Ian right behind her. He wrapped her slippery body in a towel and tossed her over his shoulder. Running naked into the cottage, Ian burst inside and tossed Natasha in the middle of the bed. He briskly rubbed every inch of her damp skin until it glowed, then descended upon her, tasting her with gentle love bites.
His smartphone rang and they jumped apart. "Ignore it," Ian said in a strangled voice as he resumed nibbling on her.
Natasha pushed away from him. "I can't. It might be Arthur." Out of breath, she answered the phone. "Alec, how nice to hear from you," she said between panting breaths, trying to sound composed.
Ian punched the bed and signaled for her to hang up.
"Dinner at seven?" She glanced at Ian and he nodded. “Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you.”
She had scarcely hung up, when Ian crooked a finger at her. "Come here, angel," he said, his voice dark and seductive.
Natasha’s breath caught in her throat at the ravenous look in his silver green wolf eyes. On wobbly legs, she reached his side and he instantly hauled her on top of him, his strong arms holding her body in a vise. He kissed her hard, his lips demanding and hungry.
"No more interruptions," he growled, rolling on his side and taking her with him. He kissed her breasts, tasting the buds with a swirl of his tongue as his hands skimmed over her shoulders and down her sides, from breasts to waist, then smoothed over her belly, triggering tremors along the way. He stroked her into a frenzied, greedy chaos of needing, craving, aching to have him inside her. No matter how many times Ian made love to her, it only made her want him more.
Heart Melter Page 15
