Page 35 of Forever My Lass

“Forgive me, Madeline. I am nae suggesting such a thing. I am simply stating ye are nae an innocent afraid of her own shadow when she’s in the same room as a man.”

“Every time you open your mouth, my lord, the hole you’re digging gets deeper. So I suggest you stop before you’re in so deep you can’t get out.” The sarcasm in her voice was sharply edged with anger. Iain released a small noise of frustration.

“I am simply pointing out that I think you’re running from someone, and I want tae know if it’s a husband or a lover.”

“I am not running from anything or anyone.” The terse, angry reply made him shake his head in disbelief. Irritated by her persistent denial that she wasn’t running from some kind of threat, Iain glared at her.

“Then explain why I can’t find anything that says ye even exist.”

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I could explain it,” she bit out sharply.

“Damn it, Madeline. I cannae help ye if ye dinnae trust me.”

“Did I ask for your help?” The fiery glare she directed at him made Iain grit his teeth.

“Nae, but there’s something ye are nae telling me. Something that terrifies ye.”

The panic and fear he sensed in her earlier had become an almost tangible sensation. Studying her intently, the unshed tears shimmering in her soft, brown eyes aroused the urge to pull her into his arms and offer his shoulder for her to cry on. It was so strong it made him take another step toward her. The moment she turned her head away from him, Iain reached out to catch her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. His thumb rubbed across the plump lower lip of her pink mouth.

“Trust me, mo bhòidhchead fuilt dorcha,” he murmured as if soothing a frightened animal. “Let me help ye. Tell me what frightens ye so badly. It will make it easier if ye share your burden with someone else.”

“No. It won’t. If I thought you could help me, I would have asked you already. But you can’t.”

“I dinnae believe that.”

“Can you send me into the future?” The fierce, bitter question made him stare at her in confusion.

“I dinnae understand, lass.”

“I said, can you send me to the future? Back to my time? I wasn’t born in this century. I won’t be born for more than another hundred years.”

§ § §

Iain stared at her as if she had two heads, and Madeline flinched. Her stomach lurched as she realized what she’d done. She’d allowed that sexy brogue of his to lull her into a false sense of security. A silent belief that he would understand if she told him the truth. Fear expanded inside Madeline, and bile rose in her throat.

She pulled free of his light grasp and turned to flee, but his strong hand caught her arm again to prevent her from escaping. Without a word, Iain ushered her out of the dining room and pulled her toward his study.

“Let me go,” she snapped in a hushed voice as she tried to free herself.

The last thing she wanted was for someone to come help the man hold her prisoner as he sent for someone to take her to the asylum. Iain ignored her demand, and pulled her into the study, then closed the door behind him. With a sharp tug, Madeline jerked free of his grasp and took several quick steps backward. He stood with his back to the door, obviously not about to let her escape that way. She ran toward the window, but his voice rang out with a harsh command to stop.

“I will catch ye before ye can unlock the windows, Madeline,” he declared quietly. “Now, come sit down.”

“Why? So you can tie me down, while you send for someone to take me away and lock me up?”

“I am nae going tae send ye away, lass. Now, sit down.”

Arms folded across his chest, Iain bobbed his head toward the chair in front of his desk and waited for her to comply with the command. Without looking away from him, Madeline slowly walked toward the chair. As she sank down into the cushioned seat, Iain strode forward. Tension made her sit rigidly, preparing herself to flee the moment he let his guard down. She had no idea where she’d go, but she couldn’t stay here.

“I said tae trust me, mo bhòidhchead fuilt dorcha,” he said softly as he stood in front of her and leaned back against his desk.

The position gave him the appearance of being completely relaxed, but Madeline knew how fast he could move. That, she’d witnessed yesterday when he’d easily lifted her off the ground and set her on his horse in front of him. Beneath that layer of nonchalance was a power she wouldn’t want unleashed on her head if he were angry.

It wasn’t difficult to imagine him as a Highland warrior with his tall, sinewy body. Everything about him said he was strong enough to easily break a man in half. But it was the intangible force inside him she found enthralling and alarming at the same time. Iain Fraser was dangerous. Yesterday had emphasized just how much when he’d helped her off his horse.

His strong arms had held her tight against him as he’d slowly allowed her to slide down over his body. The tantalizing scent of the outdoors had mixed with the warm smells of leather, pine, and something spicey. Engulfed by the heat of him, she’d desperately fought off the urge to bury her face in his neck and breathe him into her senses.

The strength of him had been underscored by his hard, muscular body pressing into hers. Before her feet touched the ground, she was already wondering what it would be like to make love with the man. The memory sent her heartbeat skidding out of control, and Madeline immediately pushed her chair backward in a meager attempt to put space between them, hoping her thoughts would follow suit.