Page 32 of Forever My Lass

“I dinnae understand, lass.”

“She always wanted to visit Scotland,” Madeline said with a shake of her head. “For the past couple of years, we would look up places and then make a note of the castles and battlefields we wanted to visit.”

“Battlefields,” he murmured softly. It wasn’t a question, but the amusement in his voice made her glance up at him. When Iain’s lips curled in a complacent smile, she narrowed her gaze at him.

“What?” she demanded.

“I dinnae say anything.”

“But you’re dying to make some kind of wisecrack, aren’t you? So, out with it,” she snapped irritably.

“I was simply thinking the Frasers at Falkirk and Culloden would have welcomed ye with open arms to fight with them against the enemy.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Madeline huffed. He laughed.

“Nae, mo bhòidhchead fuilt dorcha. Ye have a fire in ye, lass, that only a Scotsman can appreciate.”

Iain’s voice had softened, and the sound of it brushed across her senses as if he’d caressed her with his hand. It sent a jolt of electricity skimming along her nerve endings until her skin hummed with awareness. Something dangerous flared in his piercing blue gaze as she looked at him, and Madeline experienced a lethargic fluttering in her stomach.

Madeline quickly jerked her body around to face forward again. Her gaze focused on the manor house that was so close, and yet it was still far enough away that she might not be able to resist melting back into his chest.

“Has nae mon ever told ye how brilliantly your eyes sparkle when your feathers are ruffled, Madeline?” When she didn’t answer, a quiet laugh stirred the short curls on the top of her head. “Perhaps I should compliment ye more often, Madeline, if my doing so renders you speechless.”

“I am not speechless,” she bit out through clenched teeth, unwilling to give him any encouragement. “If my eyes are sparkling, it’s because I’m angry.”

“Indeed.”

A provocative challenge whispered its way through the word, and Madeline clenched her fists to stop herself from responding. It was a struggle not to turn around and read him the riot act, but she succeeded in maintaining her tranquil appearance. At least, she tried to make herself believe she appeared serene and unaffected by his teasing.

The manor was close, and she mouthed a silent prayer of thanks as Taren carried her and Iain over the last bit of grass and onto the drive made of small pebbles. When the animal trotted to a halt, Iain leapt down from the animal to forestall her from dismounting without his assistance.

Strong hands gripped her waist, and he lifted her out of the saddle. Her body slid down over his chest, and the instant his mouth came near hers, Madeline drew in a sharp breath. Iain instantly froze at the sound, and as their gazes locked, heat pulsed between them. For a moment, she wondered what he would do if she lightly brushed her lips over his.

Horrified at the direction of her thoughts, Madeline grew rigid with dismay. The instant he set her on the ground, she tugged free of his grasp to put several feet between them. With a breathless word of thanks, Madeline didn’t bother to worry what it might look like as she bolted for the front door of the manor.

At the moment, all she cared about was escaping this man who had her body ready to spontaneously combust. If the hounds of hell had been on her heels, they couldn’t have made her run any faster, and she didn’t stop running until she reached her room. Her heart racing, Madeline closed her eyes as the back of her head rested against her bedroom door. God, she was in trouble with a capital T, and she was at a complete loss as to what she was going to do.

Chapter 9

Iain entered the dining room where his daughters and Madeline were eating breakfast. He’d not seen Madeline since he’d brought her home from the pond yesterday evening, and the sound of her laughter edged its way through him like a warm summer breeze.

“Good morning, Faither.” Grace and Ainslie spoke simultaneously, their expressions bright with excitement.

“Good morning, lassies,” he said with a grin before he looked at Madeline. “Good morning, Madeline.”

“Good morning,” she replied quietly, quickly averting her gaze to look down at her plate.

The faint flush of color dusting her cheeks made Iain bite back a smile of amusement. For a woman who was unabashedly straightforward and confident, she blushed with the innocence of a schoolgirl. Ainslie fidgeting in her chair pulled his attention away from Madeline as he moved to the buffet server to fix a plate of eggs, sausage, and tattie scones.

It was obvious both girls were on pins and needles. They knew he always brought home a small gift or two for them whenever he traveled to Aberdeen, and he knew Ainslie would be the first to broach the topic.

“Did ye have a good trip, Faither?”

“Aye, I did,” he said as he smiled over his shoulder at his daughter. His youngest by several minutes was showing restraint for a change.

Frustration furrowed Ainslie’s forehead at his noncommittal reply, and Iain suppressed a grin as he carried his plate, along with a bowl of porridge, to the table. Sitting down at the opposite end of the table from Madeline, he focused his attention on Ainslie.

“What did you learn while I was gone?”