To Catch a Highlander (20 page)

"But—"

"
Go
!" His voice crackled like lightning.

Her eyes clouded, but no tears appeared. Instead, her chin lifted, and she bent, gathered up her gown, and retied it. Then she spun on her heel and swept to the door as if she were royalty.

When the door closed behind her, Dougal let out a huge breath, his heart pounding as if he'd been running uphill. His head bowed, he forced his stiff fingers to release the table. Good God. What had he done?

He wanted to take her, taste her, revel in her golden hair and lush body, and—And then what? Could he take her once and just leave? Or would this spell she was weaving consume him all the more?

He flexed his fingers, wincing as the blood flowed back into them. Another part of his body was just as stiff and likely to become just as painful. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "This is madness."

Sheer and utter madness. If he didn't leave soon, he might not be able to do so at all.

He stood abruptly, overturning his chair. He would pack his bags tonight and leave first thing in the morning. He'd ride straight to his sister's house and plunge into whatever gaiety she had planned, distracting him from his endless absorption with a pair of pale turquoise eyes and the softest rosebud lips he'd ever seen.

There comes a time when a man has t' decide if he's made of gold or iron. Ye might think this would be an easy decision t' make, but not every woman wants a man who has more shine than use.

Old Woman Nora from
Loch Lomond
to her three wee granddaughters one cold evening

Sophia entered the kitchen the next morning, breathing in the wondrous smell of fresh-baked bread.

"Good mornin', miss," Mary said, sending a warm grin her way. "Ye're up early this morning."

"I had trouble sleeping." Before Mary could ask, she quickly added, "I'm worried about Red and the house."

"Ye're doing the best ye can. Did ye manage to talk his lordship into playin' cards again last night?"

"Oh, yes, I did." And had successfully inflamed MacLean to new heights. She could still see the raw hunger on his face as he sent her away; that's what had kept her up the rest of the night. That and the shock of her own reaction to being naughty.

She'd done something no respectable miss would do, but when had her life ever been governed by respectability? Mama had laughed at such notions, saying such rules were made to bind woman into subservience to their families. What mattered wasn't being respectable but being true to her own heart.

Sophia wasn't certain about her heart, but the rest of her body had definite ideas about what it wanted. She hadn't been prepared for the surge of power that rippled through her on seeing his reaction. And with that surge came the knowledge that she wanted him, too.

This was how Mama must have felt when she'd run off with Red after knowing him for only a few days. Of course, the difference was that she'd fallen in love. All Sophia had was lust—but oh, what a lovely, rich, and delicious lust it was!

She'd never really understood what the excitement was all about. She'd heard the maids giggling over their beaus and listened to the local romance gossip, but until now, she'd never understood how someone could throw away an orderly life for simple physical attraction.

Now she did. She'd tasted the power and felt the sheer exhilaration. She'd been unable to sleep because, for the first time in her life, she was too excited. Excited about life, about waking up, about being with Dougal, pushing him yet further into offering the deed to the house in a card game. She felt
alive
.

Tonight would be the night; she was certain of it. And then, once she'd won the house—

Some of her excitement died. After she won the house, Dougal would leave, and she and Red would continue as they'd always done.

A hollowness pressed against Sophia's chest. But that was what she wanted, what she'd been fighting for all along, wasn't it?

Mary, standing by the window, suddenly dropped her frying pan, startling Sophia from her thoughts. "Miss! It looks as MacLean's leavin'!"

"What?"

"His man has both of the horses saddled, and their luggage is strapped to—"

Sophia dashed out the door and into the yard, her gaze locked on Dougal. He stood by his horse, dressed all in black except for a brilliant white cravat, his elegant riding coat cut just so, his black boots polished until they shined, a gold tassel decorating each.

He turned as she approached, his dark green gaze sweeping over her, his tawny hair falling over his brow and shadowing his expression.

Blast the man! How dare he pack his bags and ride away after all the work she'd done! Worse, how dare he do it while looking so damned appealing?

Sophia marched up to him. "Where are you going?"

"Good morning, Miss MacFarlane. I'm afraid I must be going."

Miss MacFarlane? "I thought you'd stay another day, at least."

His gaze lingered on her mouth. "I was expected at my sister's days ago, but—" His green eyes warmed for a moment. "I allowed myself to become distracted."

"Yes, but we haven't finished—"

He captured her chin and lifted her face to his. "Are you certain you want us to 'finish'?"

His touch ignited a maelstrom of desires and feelings, but her pride stiffened her back. She would not let him see how much he affected her; she
refused
.

He dropped his hand, a bitter smile on his lips. "I thought not. There's nothing more to be said, my love." His voice was as cold as his touch had been hot. "My solicitor will be arriving within the month. You and your father may stay until then." He swung himself up on his horse and gathered the reins, flicking a glance her way. "I will be in touch regarding the house."

He couldn't just leave—not after all her work. He'd ridden in arrogant and cocksure, and now he was about to leave the same way.

Anger, pure and hot, flooded her veins. She planted her fists on her hips. "What's the matter, MacLean? Are you afraid?"

His brows snapped down, his eyes glinting dangerously. "
What
did you say?"

She lifted her chin. "I asked if you were afraid. If that is why you're sneaking out like a thief in the night?"

"It's morning, and I'm no thief."

"No, but you
are
afraid, aren't you? Afraid of me."

Dougal's expression darkened even more. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do." She leaned close to say dismissively, "You are afraid of what our card games might cause you to lose."

Dougal's body tensed at the words, making Poseidon jolt forward. How dare she accuse him of being afraid? The thought of it raged through him.

Yet in the back of his mind, a small voice whispered,
She'
s
right. You are afraid of what you'll lose, only it's not about the house. It's about your self-control
.

Dougal slung himself down from the horse and faced Sophia. She refused to back away but stood her ground so that he was but a few inches from her.

She glared at him. "I saw your face last night. You want me, MacLean. Admit it. You're afraid I'll offer myself for the house, and you won't be able to resist it. And then…" She smiled smugly. "And then you'll lose."

The morning sun slanted across her face, illuminating her flawless skin. Her golden hair had a delicious tumbled look to it; her eyes were bright and clear. Even the faint circles only emphasized the color of her icy blue eyes.

He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up, toss her over his shoulder, take her into the barn, and
show
her exactly what he was feeling. And that was the problem: he felt far too much where Sophia was concerned. His passion alone could burn down the entire place; he didn't dare find out what would happen when they were both aflame.

He had to resist this, had to fight off the temptation she threw with her words.

Dougal turned coldly from her. "Whether I want you or not, I am leaving. I came to see the house, and I've seen it. There is nothing more to be said."

Sophia grabbed Poseidon's reins, turned to
Shelton
, who stood gawping at them, and tossed the reins to the groom. "Here! Your master and I have something we must speak about." She turned to Dougal. "And if we don't speak here, then I suppose I shall just have to find your sister's house. That shouldn't be very difficult."

Bloody hell, the woman was determined. "Damn you!" Dougal snapped at Sophia before turning to the waiting groom. "Walk the horses. I won't be long." He turned and strode away, his boots ringing on the flagstone.

Sophia hitched up her skirts and scampered after him like a milkmaid. By the time he paused at the garden gate, she was even more hot and cross.

He opened the gate and went in, leaving it open for her but not offering to wait. Sophia's anger simmered higher, but she lifted her chin and hurried up the path until she'd passed him. Puffing for breath, she briskly led the way to a bench beneath a tree, where she turned to face him.

He stood, feet planted apart, arms crossed over his broad chest. "What in the hell is this all about?"

"It's about me. And this house. And everything that's happened."

His gaze darkened, but he didn't move. "What, then?"

Suddenly, she wanted to tell him everything—how she'd worked so hard, fought to make the house into the home Mama had always wanted it to be. How in the space of one careless minute, Red had lost it all and how she desperately wanted it back. But more than that, she wanted to tell Dougal how his presence had changed things, disrupted her life, and made her aware that MacFarlane House wasn't the beginning and end of the world. She still wanted the house back, but now… now she wanted more.

But what? What
did
she want? She rubbed her forehead. "This is complicated."

He gave an impatient sigh. "Damn it, Sophia! I'll give you one minute and no more. What in the hell do you want?"

She spun on her heel and paced back and forth, struggling to find a beginning, pausing now and then as if to speak, then shaking her head and pacing again.

Dougal's irritation slowly faded, the knot in his chest easing as he watched her. She was a passionate woman; it showed in every stride she took, every emphatic move of her hands, every sparkle in her blue eyes. He gave her another moment and then said in a milder voice, "Perhaps I should just leave after all."