Page 28 of Only a Highlander Will Do

“What about you and Orrick? Callum or Rowena even? Would they use the flag to keep you and your clan out of harm’s way?”

“I doubt it. No one knows what horrors future generations will face. There may be a greater need at a different time.” He turned away from the flag and kept moving towards Fiona’s bedchamber. “It is up to the four of us MacLeod brothers to keep our clan safe without the magic of the Fairy Flag.”

He set her on the bed, but before he pulled back, he studied her. Her plaited hair trailed carelessly over her shoulder like a burst of sunshine. Her skin was pale, but against the light blue coverlet behind her, she looked more ethereal than ghost-like. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and cupped his hand under her chin. Tilting her mouth up to his, he moved closer. He could feel her breath catch. His own heart raced and he felt horribly out of control being this close to her. He couldn’t think of anything but the fullness of her lips, her breath on his face, and how desperately he wanted to kiss her.

But he didn’t. He pulled back. He’d made her a promise not to kiss her again until the legal documents were securely in her hands. He straightened, then stepped back from the bed.

Disappointment reflected in her eyes as she bit down on her lips. She clenched her hands in her skirt. Had she wanted him to kiss her? He almost moved back towards her, but stopped himself.

“I’ll get Geordie started on the legal documents before I see to the castle.” He hurried from the room without shutting the door. He raced down the hallway and then the stairs, as his thoughts centred on Fiona and how much he wished he’d kissed her.

No matter how quickly the solicitor drew up the legal documents, it wouldn’t be fast enough.

*

Tormod was going to kiss her and then he didn’t. She knew the exact moment he decided not to, saw the desire in his eyes replaced with hesitation, heard the catch in his breath that became a curse. Then he moved away from the bed and out of the room.

She didn’t want him to kiss her. She’d guaranteed as much by making him wait until the documents were signed. Fiona waited for relief to wash over her. Instead a sense of disappointment came that was so gut-wrenchingly deep it made her throat ache and her head swim. She coiled her hands deeper into the folds of her riding habit, feeling absurdly lost and alone.

At the memory of the heat of his hand against her skin and the feel of his breath against her lips, she shivered. With a groan, she fell backwards against the bed linens. Why did she have to feel like this? She’d seen a different side of the man she’d married today. A happier, fun-loving side that she’d come to appreciate during the day’s adventure. Even when the MacDonald and her father had appeared out of nowhere, she hadn’t been scared, not when Tormod stood before her, protecting her as no one ever had before. But nothing, not even Tormod, could protect her from the vile deeds of her own father.

Why had he taken money tainted with MacDonald blood? They had learned to live without many of life’s niceties, or so she had thought.

Her father’s failures would now force her to sacrifice herself in order to keep everyone and everything she cared about and loved safe from harm. For she still had no choice but to leave, no matter how difficult Tormod and Graeme made it for her.

A knock on the open door stopped any further contemplation. Fiona sat up just as Gwendolyn poked her head inside the chamber. “Can we bring in your bath?”

Fiona had no sooner nodded than the door opened wide and six men entered the chamber. The first carried a copper hip bath that he set down near the hearth. Next the other five came forward, dumping buckets of steamy water into the bath. A moment later they were gone, leaving her and Gwendolyn alone.

Gwendolyn carried a fluffy white bathing sheet and a square of soap that smelled of lavender and lemon balm. She handed them to Fiona. “Take a long soak. It will ease the tension in your muscles that a day of riding hard can bring, then join me downstairs for tea and tarts. Mrs Honey makes the finest apple tarts on the isle.”

“You are very kind, Gwendolyn. Thank you.”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. You are a sister to me now and I want to hear all about your adventure.” Gwendolyn smiled widely. “I hear Tormod took you to the Fairy Pools.”

Fiona nodded. “They were quite beautiful.”

“And romantic.” She winked at Fiona.

Fiona blushed at the insinuation in Gwendolyn’s voice. “Nothing happened between Tormod and me besides a few splashes of water. And even that came to an end when Alex MacDonald and my father appeared.”

Gwendolyn plopped down on the bed. “Then Tormod swooped in to save you.”

Fiona couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “My goodness what an imagination you have, Gwendolyn.”

Her smile broadened. “You try being locked in a tower for five years with only the stories you make up in your head for company—well, that and my dear siblings.”

Fiona’s laughter faltered. “I can’t imagine how horrible that was for you all. It was Garrick MacDonald who locked you in there?”

Gwendolyn nodded. “That all happened not so long ago, yet it feels like ages. My life is so different now thanks to Alastair.” She paused and her expression became serious. “Tormod could do that for you, too, if you just give him a chance.”

Fiona wished she had that chance to give. A shiver went down her spine at the thought of what her life would soon become. If she compared nothing else about the two men she was caught between but their eyes, Alex’s were cold and as dark as granite. Whereas Tormod’s were dark brown and filled with flecks of gold that reflected the sun and the moon and the stars.

Alex had already threatened to destroy her home and kill her father. What more would he do to rob her of her happiness or even her life? Fiona’s eyes stung with tears but she forced them back, drawing on every last ounce of strength she possessed to remain calm as she forced a smile to her lips. “I can honestly say I’ve been happier today than I’ve been in a long while. That is a start.”

Gwendolyn smiled. “Aye, that is a good start.” She stood. “I should let you get to your bath before the water cools. When you are ready, come downstairs and share those tarts with me.”

“I will,” Fiona promised as her heart lodged in her throat.