“We are forever interrupted here. Privacy is what we need.”
“I have a favor to ask,” she said as he reminded her about the fund-raiser. Not only would it get them alone, but it would also afford them time to do some investigating in Edinburgh.
“Name it.”
Ronnie grinned nervously. “Don’t be so hasty. You might not want to do it.”
“I’d do anything you asked.”
The honesty shining in his golden eyes made her heart miss a beat. “I have the fund-raiser coming up. I leave tomorrow for Edinburgh.”
“You need me to escort you to Edinburgh?” he asked.
“Actually, I was hoping you’d be my date.”
His smile was slow, and very male. The gleam in his eyes told her he was thinking about their privacy just as she was.
Never had she asked a man out, and she was anxious. But she also knew the only one she wanted with her was Arran.
“I’d be honored,” he said softly, deeply, and let his thumb caress her jaw.
And she felt it all the way to her soul. She had to clear her throat, her emotions were so thick. “I’m glad. Very glad. Do you, ah, do you have a tux?”
“I’ll get what I need. Shall we leave together tomorrow then?”
Time alone with Arran? Hell yes she was taking that option. “Yep. Does that work for you?”
“Oh, aye,” he said with a wicked grin. “I better leave you alone now. No’ sure how long I can keep my hands off you. Or resist stealing another kiss.”
And just like that, he was gone.
“He still didn’t kiss me,” she murmured.
* * *
Arran pulled his phone from his pocket as he left Ronnie’s and dialed Saffron. If there was one woman at MacLeod Castle who could help him, it was the billionaire.
“I need your help,” he told Saffron as soon as she answered.
“As always, I’m happy to help. What do you need?”
“A tux.”
There was a choking sound, and then Saffron began to cough.
“Saffron? Are you choking?”
“Yes,” she croaked, and coughed some more. After a moment she said, “Are you serious? Arran, you were one of the ones who didn’t want to learn so many of the modern things like dancing and such. Why would you need a tux?”
“Ronnie asked me to go with her to her fund-raiser. I said aye. It’ll give us some time to search for the creatures.”
“Interesting.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Can you help me? She asked if I had a tux and I said aye, but I doona even know what that is.”
Saffron snorted. “You’ve lived in our time for over a year and you don’t know what a tux is? Don’t you remember what Camdyn was in a few months ago when we went to that dinner in London?”
Arran held back a groan as he remembered the black jacket and white shirt Camdyn had worn. The only saving grace was the kilt that had been with it. “Aye.”
“I’ll take care of everything. What hotel are you staying in?”
“I doona know.”
“Never mind,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll have Gwynn find out. Are you riding with Ronnie to Edinburgh?”
Arran flattened his lips. “Of course.”
“Just like a damned Warrior.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Saffron laughed through the phone. “Oh, Arran, I think you’re in for a surprise. A nice surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.”
The phone went dead and he pulled it away from his face to look at it. He hadn’t liked Saffron’s parting words. What could she mean?
He forgot all about it as someone motioned for him to help move another rock they’d found in the ground. No matter how hard he pushed his body, his mind was full of Ronnie.
Of her erotic magic, her seductive smile, and her beautiful eyes.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Somewhere deep in the Highlands
Malcolm sat with his eyes closed and simply listened to the sound of the wind as it whistled through the mountains. It had taken him a while, but he’d finally managed to find a place where he was utterly alone for miles and miles.
The air was cooler and thinner at the top of the mountain where he sat. He could see the mountains all around him, the grass swaying in the wind sometimes showing green, sometimes a beautiful purple.
The cries of peregrine falcons brought a smile to his face. The sun had risen and set numerous times as he’d sat. Through sun and rain, cloud-filled nights that hid the moon, and days where the sky had been the most beautiful, vibrant blue.
These were the things that made him happy when he’d been mortal. The things he’d looked forward to. He’d come up to the top of the mountain to try to see if there was any part of that man left inside him.
He hadn’t been surprised to find there wasn’t.
Malcolm could easily blame Deirdre for turning him into the man he was. But the simple truth was that the fault lay solely with him.
His phone vibrated on the rock beside him. It was the sixth call in less than four hours. Even though he saw Larena’s name show up as the caller, Malcolm still wouldn’t answer it.
He wasn’t worried that it was something important either, because if it was, Broc could easily find him with his powers.
No, it was better if Malcolm remained just as he was. The only company he was fit for was his own, and even that was questionable.
Technically, he hadn’t been a Warrior for too long, if he didn’t count being time-traveled forward by four centuries. Despite that, he could barely remember the part of his life before he was a Warrior.
He vaguely remembered there might have been a woman he was interested in, but, apparently, she wasn’t so special because he couldn’t remember her face, much less her name.
Malcolm looked down at his right arm and the scars that ran the length of it and disappeared beneath his shirt. But he couldn’t hide the scars on his face and neck so easily. People stared at him wherever he went. He’d seen his reflection in the mirror and knew how horrible he looked.
At least when Deirdre was alive, her magic had hidden his ugliness.
“Is this what life holds for me?” he asked.
Silence greeted his words, but it was that same silence that let him breathe easier. He wasn’t the type of man who wanted to be around others.
He was better by himself.
If only Larena would realize that. But his cousin could be very stubborn.
* * *
Ronnie didn’t know how she’d gotten through the day before. It had been long and excruciating. Not because of the dig or the fact that she had to lie to everyone and tell them that there was nothing in the chamber, but because she was aware of Arran’s every move, every smile.
She must have been too upset over the attack to realize Arran had removed any evidence of artifacts in the chamber. Confirming her lie to everyone.
Just one more thing she needed to thank him for.
She wanted to warn them all of the creatures, but she wasn’t sure they’d believe her. Arran had told her to wait. Apparently, there was a Druid named Gwynn at MacLeod Castle who was good on the computer, and until she heard about the creatures being spotted somewhere else, they were to remain quiet about them.
That was fine until Ronnie stood in the chamber and remembered the sight of the monsters and the way they had nearly brought Arran down. But Arran had come to her rescue despite the pain he was in.
How could she ever have doubted him? How could she ever have compared him to Max? He was nothing like Max.
Dawn had broken an hour ago, and somehow Ronnie managed to eat a few bites of a biscuit and drink three cups of coffee. Her nerves were utterly frazzled.
“He’s just a man,” she reminded herself.
Then she covered her mouth as she giggled. Well, he wasn’t really
just
a man. He was immortal. And had powers. So much more than just a man.
They were to depart at any moment. She was anxious, and her nerves wound so tight, she couldn’t keep still.
She rubbed her hands together and stared at her overnight bag and purse that waited for her. Arran was driving, since her car still wasn’t fixed.
Alone. For a couple of hours.
With Arran.
His smile, the smoldering way his eyes watched her. His body that defined temptation. His lips that could steal her breath with just a kiss.
He was all that was sexy and sultry, tangible fieriness that made her babble, unable to keep a coherent thought in her head. Just being near him made her heart race and left her winded. Her blood heated when she thought of him kissing her again.
Leisurely. Seductively.
Thoroughly.
She shivered as she recalled being against his rock-hard frame again. Her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened. His arms had been strong as he’d molded her against the hard length of him.
And, oh, how she wanted more of that.
It had been … well, years since she’d been intimate with a man. With Arran around, sex was all she seemed able to think about. Maybe it was the way his eyes always watched her with that dark intensity that made her feel as if thousands of butterflies would take flight in her stomach.
Ronnie couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent any time alone with a man who wasn’t Peter or Andy. What would she say? How should she act? Better yet, how could she let him know she was interested?
“Ready?”
She jumped and whirled around to find Arran standing inside her tent. Her hands were shaking, so she held them behind her back. “Ah. Yeah.”
He lifted a dark brow and grinned. “That didna sound convincing, lass.”
“I hate these things,” she said.
“That’s just one of the reasons I’m going.”
She bit back a laugh. “Just one?”
“Oh, aye. Andy told me I’m to fend off your horde of admirers.”
This time she did laugh. “I don’t have a horde.”
“No’ according to Andy.”
“Is that the only other reason?”
His eyes glowed with desire, with a dark hunger she felt herself. “Nay. Do I need to say it, lass?”
“No,” she croaked. “Not now. Not here.”
He reached for her bag. “Doona fear, Ronnie. Who better to protect you from your admirers or … anything else out there, than me?”
There was a gleam of something in his golden eyes that made her heart miss a beat. His lips tilted slightly at the corners.
“Right. Who better?”
Before she could say another word, he brushed past. Ronnie reached for her purse and straightened to find Arran holding the tent flap open for her.
Ronnie exited with Arran at her heels. She looked around the site to see that Andy, as usual, had everything running smoothly.
He was waiting for them by Arran’s steel gray Range Rover. Andy smiled and held Ronnie’s door for her while Arran put her bag in the back with his. Ronnie slid into the front seat and fastened her seat belt.
“I know you hate these things,” Andy said, “but they keep me in a job. At least this time you have muscleman there to keep the jerks from putting their hands on you.”
“Who puts their hands on her?” Arran asked, his voice deepening with a hard edge as he climbed behind the wheel.
Andy’s smile grew, as if he knew by getting Arran riled that Ronnie was sure to be left alone by everyone. “The jerks who think because she’s a pretty face and they have money to give that they can touch her any way they want.”
“There willna be any touching unless Ronnie wants it,” Arran stated.
Ronnie leaned her head back and held in a smile. She should be upset at the two of them, but it showed how much Andy cared that he was willing to deal with her anger if it kept her safe from the vile men at the fund-raiser.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she leaned in to hug him. She sat back and looked through the windshield at the site. “Tare care of things as you always do. We’ll be back on Sunday.”
“Take your time. You need a break,” Andy said.
He gave a nod to Arran before he shut her door. Ronnie looked from one to the other. It was as if some unspoken message had been passed between them. And she was afraid it involved her.
Arran started the SUV, and then they were driving away. Ronnie inhaled and slowly released her breath.
“You doona have to be nervous around me.”
She smiled and looked down at her hands. “I don’t spend a lot of time in the company of men.”
“Andy and Pete doona count as men?”
Ronnie busted out laughing, which helped to calm her nerves. “They’re men, but different. Pete has always been like a father, and Andy, he’s the brother I never had.”
“You were raised alone?”
She cut her eyes to him. “I know how well you know Saffron, and Saffron did her own investigating of me before she gave me any funds. Which means, you know of my past.”
He kept his gaze on the road, but shrugged. “I didna want to upset you.”
“I appreciate that, but I’d rather you be honest. How much do you know?”
Arran glanced at her, his golden eyes soft, warm. “I know you were raised in a foster home.”
“Yeah. My foster parents were decent, hardworking people. There were five others besides me. Two girls and three boys. All three of us girls shared a room, as did the boys. But even then, we kept to ourselves.”
“Why?”
She adjusted herself in the leather seat to get more comfortable and watched the passing scenery. “I’d been moved around some, but others had been to several more families than I. Even in that tiny bedroom with two sets of bunk beds, there were invisible lines drawn that no one crossed. Our boundaries, as it were, that each of us knew not to violate.”
“I doona understand.”
“It’s difficult to explain. You don’t have much when you’re in the system. You only have what your current foster family gives you. Clothes we had to share as long as we could wear the same sizes. Shoes were the same. But our beds, our spaces were ours. We didn’t share what we didn’t have to.”
“I gather the parents didna have much money? Why take in so many kids, then?” Arran asked.
“The government gives them money for each child. That money is supposed to be used to feed and clothe us. My foster parents did the best they could. There weren’t unkind, but it wasn’t the type of family some of my other friends had with their parents.”
“So you had all those siblings, but none of them you felt were your brothers or sisters?”