He took a deep breath and peered up at the bright blue sky, trying not to look at her. The sun beat down upon his bare shoulders, drying the rivulets of water that dripped from his wet hair. The sensation of water sliding down his back made him think of her… fingers—he didn’t dare think of her tongue… damp and soft sliding the length of his back. He swallowed hard, shuddering as he met her gaze.
Sweet green eyes met his hungry blue ones. “I’m not too proud to beg,” she warned. “Not when ’tis something so important as this! I beg of ye, Colin Mac Brodie!”
Colin frowned at her.
She had turned from bartering to begging now, and she did it all too well. As she had all those years ago, her heart was plain to see in that expression she wore like a martyr at her crucifixion. It was a look that offered forgiveness all the while pleading, and was still somehow filled with far too much pride.
How could he turn her away? How could he refuse her?
Would he even think to refuse her were she someone other than who she was?
Aye, he would, he decided, because Broc was his friend, and he wasn’t about to scheme with her to trap him—even if Broc were better off with a flesh and blood woman in his bed, rather than that flea-bitten mongrel.
But more than anything else… because he wanted her for himself.
“You owe me, Colin Mac Brodie!” she blurted, lifting up a small rock and tossing it into the water at him, far from where he stood, but still…
Colin met her glittering gaze, vivid green and fueled with something more than pride. “You owe me,” she repeated, stomping a foot before her. The furious gesture tossed up her skirt just a bit higher, giving him a clearer view of the prize she would offer his best friend, “and I’ll not be taking no for an answer!”
Impudent wench.
He was torn in that instant by a sincere desire to help her, guilt over the past, and a lust so intense he could feel it stir his loins, despite the fierceness of her glare.
Were he not so annoyed by her bold words, he might have laughed his fool head off in sheer joy over the challenge she presented him.
When was the last time he had felt so buoyed by the mere sight of a woman?
When was the last time he had felt his blood simmer even under the heat of anger?
And when the bloody hell had he ever been so wholly dismissed by a woman in favor of someone else?
Never.
And it damned well provoked him.
He wanted to kiss her, damn it—wanted to see for himself if those lips were as soft and sweet as they appeared. He started out of the loch, moving toward her with purpose.
He narrowed his gaze at her. “I owe ye aught at all,” he assured her, deciding upon a bargain. “But I’ll tell you, what…”
The anger in her expression fled at once at his hesitation, and was replaced with a look of such sheer hope that Colin wanted to smile. He didn’t dare, however, because he didn’t want her to think he was the least bit willing in this. She and his conscience were dragging him kicking and screaming all the way.
Her expression grew wary at his approach, and warier still the nearer he came, but he didn’t waver. He waded through the shallow water with purpose, never releasing her gaze. He had been about to say that he’d take her to his sister, that Meghan would help her, because he could not, but the words that came out of his mouth surprised even him.
“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.
She stilled, peering at him as though she didn’t quite believe her ears. Her face screwed with what seemed to be confusion, and mayhap a little aversion, when she decided she had, in fact, heard him aright. “A kiss?”
“A kiss,” Colin affirmed. “A simple kiss.”
She sat dumbfounded, watching his approach. He swam toward her, and she cocked her head at him as he lifted his head once more, looking beautifully bewildered still.
“I dinna want your spirits,” he declared, suddenly resolved in his decision. “You can keep the recipe. A kiss is all I want for my payment, or we have no bargain at all!”
If she truly loved Broc, he would know by her kiss. A woman’s mouth did not lie, nor did the beat of her heart beneath his hand. And if she did not love Broc… well, he would know it.
And he would spare her no mercy.
She shrugged, and seemed momentarily unable to speak. She blinked then and said after an instant more, “Verra well… a… a kiss…”
“To seal the bargain,” he assured her, and propelled himself toward the bank with new purpose.
She sat upon the grass, watching him still.
He rose up out of the water suddenly, standing in the shallows in all his full glory.
She gave a little startled cry.
Colin smiled at her reaction.
She leapt up at once, eyes wide. “Sweet mother of Jesus, I have to go!” she declared. “I forgot something verra verra important!” She turned to go, but not before taking another long flustered glance in his direction.
Colin couldn’t help himself. He grinned. “What about my kiss?” he asked shamelessly, and made no move to cover himself.
She stopped and turned to him, but took great pains not to look below his shoulders this time. “Och,” she exclaimed, “well… I… I would you see… but I have to… I have to—check the uisge! Yes, that’s right!” she declared, and nodded vigorously. She turned and fled, calling out as she ran, “I’ll kiss you next time! Have to go! Bye!”
Colin watched her go, and his grin turned as wicked as his thoughts as she disappeared into the forest.
He chuckled, quite satisfied.
So… she wasn’t so immune to him as she would like to think, and the discovery pleased him immensely.
Seana didn’t stop running until she reached the clearing near the ancient cairn where she and her da made their home.
Out of breath now, she leaned against a fallen pillar, panting softly.
These hills were spattered with the remnants of their ancestors, and their presence was tangible in the almost magical beauty of the land of her birth. Here, hidden in the deepest heart of the highlands, Seana could almost feel their spirits. She could almost believe in their magic. She could almost see them dancing in the blanket of mist that fell with night.
Though she had made her bed upon the soil they’d trod, she had never bemoaned their lack, for she felt rich in spirit. That she had no pillow to lay her head upon, had never been her lament. The scent of sweet loam had lulled her to sleep, and the breeze on summer nights had soothed the worries from her brow. Somehow, it had been a reminder that she was only a small part of something far greater than she.
But now… she did lament the lack of pillow for their heads, and feared the night. Because she loved her da.
He was all she had in this world.
Her gaze narrowed as she stared down at her bare feet.
Colin Mac Brodie was a shameless rogue! But she knew that.
She couldn’t quite say for certain but she thought perhaps he’d been laughing at her as she’d fled. It brought back that terrible memory but she hadn’t been able to help herself. She had panicked at the sight of him—standing there so bare!
His simple kiss to seal their bargain had seemed no great price to pay… until suddenly he had started toward her. Her heart had begun to pound and the next thing she had known she was flying away—once again running to escape him, and the reason hardly seemed to matter at the moment. His laughter had echoed in her brain, and she hadn’t been able to tell in that instant of hysteria whether it had been the laughter of the boy or that of the man.
She swallowed hard over the memory that had wounded her spirit so long ago.
She had thought herself long over those childhood sentiments, but it was obvious to her now that she was not.
Suddenly, the notion of asking Colin Mac Brodie for help to win her a husband seemed utterly ridiculous.
She’d talked herself into it, she realized now… and she had to wonder why she wou
ld do such a thing.
Well, she thought she knew why.
As she sat, contemplating her motives, My Love crept into her line of vision. Her da’s cat sat and stared at her with those beautiful slitted eyes. Seana stared back, hardly able to resist the comfort of her presence. It was piteous that her only friend should be a beast who had no interest at all in her save to taunt her, but it was true. My Love came as close to being a friend to her as Seana had ever had.
“Brat,” she said, without meaning it.
The cat simply stared at her, unblinking, and Seana sighed.
The truth was… she sought out Colin because she had something to prove to herself. After all these years his cruel words hurt her still. She had denied it all, had told herself that she was immune to him. She had even set out to prove to herself that he could not harm her any longer, that she was far beyond his reach. She had convinced herself that he was her solution to win Broc—and she did want Broc!—but it was suddenly apparent that that was not her motive for seeking out Colin Mac Brodie.
So then, what had she really wanted?
For Colin to look at her and see the error of his ways?
For him to find himself hopelessly smitten with her so that she could smack the arrogance from his face after all this time with a heartfelt rejection? Why? So that she could say… haha… look at me now… I was not good enough for you then, but you are not good enough for me now!
Well, she’d failed miserably whatever her intent.
Colin Mac Brodie had been born with a face that made women kneel at his feet. She was no one to teach him lessons. And he would only play games with her heart and then toss her away like the core of an apple he had enjoyed and no longer had use for.
In that instant when he’d approached her, wanting his kiss for payment, Seana had felt as vulnerable as she had that day so long ago.
Mayhap she hadn’t yearned for that kiss, mayhap her heart no longer pitter-pattered in his presence, mayhap she truly did not like him, but it had somehow, even now, managed to instill in her, for the space of an instant… sheer terror.
What a silly fool she was!
Nay, she was going to have to find another way to gain Broc’s notice. If she must walk up to him herself and tell him to his face—och, it was preferable to suffering Colin Mac Brodie’s presence!
“A kiss from Colin Mac Brodie is the verra last thing I want right now!” she assured My Love.
The cat blinked and continued to stare, unfazed.
“I dinna like that man!” she told the cat. “I dinna like him anymore than I like you!” she added irascibly.
My Love blinked again and lowered her head.
The devil animal had the audacity to look wounded by her words!
Seana knew better.
“Ye canna fool me with that woeful look!” she assured the beast, and silently berated herself for arguing with a bloody cat.
She needed a man. She needed a companion. And her da needed a softer, warmer place to lay his head.
There was but a sennight left before Alison MacLean’s wedding. If she did not see Broc before then, she would surely see him there.
It was time to form a new plan.
She didn’t need Colin Mac Brodie’s help—and to hell with his rotten kiss! Seana would rather kiss a bloody toad!
Speaking of which…
Pushing herself up from the stone, she said to My Love, “Let’s go’n find something for Da to eat. No offense to you cat, but I dinna think your gifts are quite the thing!” It disgusted her to find dead birds and mice at her da’s bedside. She didn’t know how he suffered it.
She hadn’t realized how long she had remained by the still, until the forest began to dim. My Love simply stared up at her, unwilling to move. As dusk fell, the trees began to shimmer with tiny almost imperceptible lights. If Seana hadn’t seen them a thousand times before, she might have questioned the twinkling apparitions, but she didn’t. She simply accepted them, as she did the irascible cat staring up at her. Her da claimed the twinkling lights were magical faery creatures. They looked to her to be no more than tiny winking bugs.
In any case, it was time to go home.
She made her way back to the cairn, certain of only two things that moment: One, My Love would follow when it pleased her. And two, she wasn’t going to honor that devil’s bargain—not tomorrow or any other day—Colin Mac Brodie be damned!
Chapter 7
He wasn’t about to let her get away so easily.
Colin wasn’t certain why he couldn’t let it go, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking of her.
He hadn’t seen her for days now—not since she had so arrogantly interrupted his bath at the loch. Brazen wench. She would stand before him at his bath and boldly demand his help, and yet flee at the threat of a simple kiss.
In truth, he didn’t know whether to be amused or feel slighted. No woman had ever fled his touch. And that she hadn’t returned when she’d made her presence known every day before that, was enough to nettle him to the bone. He told himself now that curiosity had driven him into these woodlands to search out his vixen enchantress. And he’d convinced himself, after spending four hours searching for her elusive home, that it was concern for her well-being that kept him searching.
She couldn’t possibly have been so horrified by the prospect of his kiss. He refused to believe it.
He was beginning to wonder if the village folk hadn’t pointed him in the wrong direction. There was no sign at all of even the smallest hut to be found. These woodlands were uninhabited but for the creatures that dwelled here.
He cursed softly to himself with the realization that the sky was growing dusky once more. Once twilight fell, it would be dark within the blink of an eye, and he was at least an hour’s walk from home. On top of that, he hadn’t even thought to bring himself a snack and his belly was complaining mightily. He stopped beneath a heavy tree limb, stretched up his hands and shoved at the branch, thinking where best to go from here.
His belly said home.
His pride said no.
His belly rumbled a little louder, as though cursing at his infernal pride.
“Shaddap,” he said.
He smelled it before he heard her. The pungent aroma of her father’s spirits. It was unmistakable, for no other brewed such a concoction as did Donal the Drunk.
He followed its general direction, until he heard her—the mutter of a female voice.
“Bloody rotten evil thing!”
Colin pursued the voice and discovered the bearer hovered over a strange contraption the likes of which he’d never seen. Her hair was knotted at her nape, and her hands were soiled from working on the… contraption. She smacked it with a hand and the strange beast sputtered and choked.
“I dinna want to do this anymore!” she exclaimed. “I dinna even like the uisge beatha! Why could I not be a baker’s daughter instead!”
Colin tried not to laugh at the sight she presented. This instant, she appeared very much the same dirty waif he had once known, the one who had stolen tarts from window sills and then followed him everywhere with the remnants of her pilferage smudged upon her face.
“So this is where ye’ve been?” he asked, startling her. She gave a little shriek and spun to face him, her eyes wide with alarm.
The instant she realized it was him, however, her expression grew vexed.
“Did your minny never teach you manners?”
Colin merely raised a brow at her.
“Wretched man!” she said, and turned her back on him, dismissing him to work upon her ridiculous-looking contraption.
He ignored her barb. “What is that?”
“Well now, what do ye think it is?” she replied without turning. “Who is my da?” she added irascibly.
“Aye, but that doesna explain what that monstrosity is,” he told her. “I have never seen such a thing.”
She remained silent, and continued to work on the sputtering device. “I do n
ot know what it is either,” she confessed after a moment. “’Tis my da’s invention… to brew the uisge beatha.”
“Aha,” Colin said. “And where is your da?”
“Home.” She fiddled with the contraption’s extensions. Colin could see now that a piece had broken and that she was trying to force two parts together. It was a coppersmith’s job. Her hands and dress were filthy with soot from the still, and he felt a sudden disgust with her father that he should leave his daughter to make his drink, whilst he stumbled about with his uisge. “Drunk?” he asked her.
“Nay!” she replied, turning to him, those lovely green eyes all the brighter for the soot that darkened her face. “I make the rotten liquor, I dinna drink it!”
He’d meant her da, but he could tell by her mood that he wouldn’t win her favor by clarifying that point. He watched her fiddle with the device for an instant from where he stood, and then walked over to where she stood working, looking over her shoulder while she struggled in vain to join the two pieces.
“Ye canna do that,” he pointed out reasonably.
She released the two pieces at once and wiped her hands upon her skirt, making them filthier.
“Dinna tell me what I can or cannot do!” she snapped, casting him a rankled glance over her shoulder. Those pouty lips of hers were no longer pink. They were stained black, but Colin wanted to kiss them anyway. “Go away!” she demanded of him, and returned to her still.
Colin didn’t bloody wish to. He’d spent hours searching for her and he’d be damned if he’d just turn and go now.
“You’re an ill-tempered wench, did ye know?”
She didn’t bother to look at him. “And you’re a mean rotten bugger who breaks little girls’ hearts!”
Colin’s brow furrowed at her crude defamation of his character. Not even Meghan said such cruel things to him.
“That was a long time ago,” he protested.
She turned to glare up at him. “Oh? And ye dinna break hearts anymore, I suppose?”
Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee Page 7
