To Wed A Highlander (3 page)

“Aye, I’ve seen them, and it’s not insolence, but fear you see,” Dunlop disagreed, his tone hesitant.

Colin fought from snorting aloud. “Fear? Dunlop, are you crazed? That woman fears nothing, no one. Even when she should.”

Dunlop shook his head. It was dangerous to counter Colin, but it was important that his friend understood Makenna—especially if they were to wed. “Nay, she fears anything she cannot do well, including marriage. And she definitely
is
a beauty. Unconventional maybe, but unquestionably bonnie, especially when she leaves her hair unbraided. Many men think so, including Laird MacCuaig. It is rumored that he has more than once tried to convince her to marry him. She is probably the only person in the world more against the concept of matrimony than you.”

Colin looked at the departing sun and twisted the dark mane of his horse in his fingers and easily swung onto its back. “She will have to get over it, then.”

Dunlop moved toward his own mount. “You have made your decision?”

“I have. Ride and inform Laird Dunstan to find his daughter. We wed tomorrow.”

“Aye,” Dunlop answered, swinging onto the brown stallion. “Are you riding on?”

Colin nodded woodenly, still digesting his decision. “I’ll tell the men later. Right now, I need to think.” And thinking meant a long, cold swim.

Makenna took a step toward the edge of the small loch her home was named after and dipped her bare foot beneath the surface to test the temperature of its hidden depths. Despite the early summer’s warmth, the water was still cool.

It was late and the dark night sky would blanket her path home, but at least she was finally alone. It had been difficult to elude the two guards Colin had ordered to watch her whenever she ventured outside Lochlen. At first, it had been easy to sneak by them, but they had learned her tricks faster than she could devise new ones. She had to be especially clever upon her return or yet another pathway to freedom would be stymied.

She yanked her red and green bliaut over her head and threw it on a nearby tree branch. Her off-white chainse immediately followed. “It’s unfair!” she yelled at no one. “Of all the people in this world forced to marry, it should not be me. Father could have no doubts that I would make the worst wife. Colin certainly has none. Then what do I care what that man thinks? The only thing more intolerable than Colin McTiernay is being Lady McTiernay,” Makenna said, shuddering at the idea.

Her older sisters had chided her for years about her tendency of talking out loud to herself, but like most of their criticisms, it had fallen on deaf ears. Makenna had told them it was an unbreakable habit. It was other people’s burden, not hers. But, in truth, she hated being an annoyance or a millstone to anyone, almost as much as she hated to fail.

Makenna stripped off her last piece of clothing and without hesitation, dove into the cold waters. She held her breath and waited for her body to adapt to the icy sensation against her bare skin. When her lungs could stand no more, she broke through the surface and took in a deep breath. The cold was near unbearable, but the silence and the lack of company were worth the self-inflicted torture. Tonight, however, the numbing benefits of the loch could not remove the sting of her failure.

Lochlen Castle was slowly falling apart. During the first few months after Deirdre’s death, life had progressed normally. Chores were done, linens were cleaned, and baths were drawn. Then for some inexplicable reason, random everyday activities had ceased. From the critical steward’s constant looks of expectation and disappointment, she knew it was because of her. So many times she wanted to ask him what to do, but refrained at the last moment as memories of her failing even the most mundane female disciplines filled her head.

“And that is why I just cannot marry anyone. I don’t know
how
to be a wife, let alone a
laird’s wife.
Why, Lord? Why wasn’t I born a boy?” she cried out in anguish.

Makenna stroked the water, focusing on the feel of the rippling water against her nude frame now moderately acclimated to the cool temperature. Since she was a child, she had deliberately avoiding any domestic endeavor, instead focusing on exciting activities such as hunting, riding, and swordplay. Those times she had been cornered by one of her four sisters into some keep endeavor, she had failed miserably. “Why is it that everyone wants what I cannot give and forbids what I can?” she sighed aloud and maneuvered to the large rock that jutted out from the water’s surface almost forty feet from the shoreline.

Deirdre had been the one to show her this small secluded spot and had taken her here as a child to go swimming. Deirdre would never go in, but she would watch as Makenna frolicked in the water. Later, it became a place for them to talk, just them—no one else.

People, especially her father and later Colin, were so careful around Deirdre. They never raised their voice or challenged her on anything. Deirdre said she hated it, but Makenna, who did not feel inhibited by her sister’s frailty, challenged the avowal. “You love it, Deirdre. You know you do. Everyone caters to your whims. Think how much it would bother you if someone actually challenged or refused one of your requests. If you were honest, you would not deny this.”

“If I did make such a confession, then I would only do so to you. You keep me grounded, Makenna. Without your honesty, I should be lost.”

“Then I shall supply it forever. Besides, without you, I would be doomed for perpetual sorrow. For I know it is you who ran interference with that hulking husband of yours and got his permission for me to ride and hunt again.”

“I am sorry Colin would not also let you train with his men. It was your most favorite of loves.”

“I’ll take what I can get. I just wish you would ride with me.”

Deirdre shook her head daintily. “Not for me. I’ll leave that lively activity for you. I’m perfectly happy running Lochlen.”

“Thank the Lord,” Makenna murmured aloud.

“You should be thanking your luck that Father Renoir decided to return to France. If he heard your language of late, you would spend all your hours in repentance.”

Makenna headed for the shore. “I’m glad he’s gone. If it weren’t your husband nagging me on this and the other, it was Father Renoir. Both men are completely impossible to please.”

“If you knew Colin better, I think you would like him…a lot. He’s a great deal like you. All fire and passion. I often think he would be happier married to someone with your zest and energy.”

“Ha! He’s your husband, not mine,” Makenna said, rising from the waters. “I choose never to marry.”

Deirdre threw Makenna a cloth. “Not even to Laird MacCuaig?” Deirdre asked mischievously. “I understand that he has been after Father for your hand for some time.”

Makenna faked a shudder and continued drying her legs. “Especially not to him. He’s…I don’t know, but he is…something. I don’t trust him.”

Deirdre hopped off the low-lying limb. “Then neither do I. I trust your instincts, Makenna. I wish you would trust mine about Colin. He really is a wonderful man. No woman could ask for a better husband.”

The memories of her sister were so strong Makenna could still feel Deirdre’s presence, even all these months later.

Makenna squeezed her eyes tightly together. If she did marry Colin, they would both be miserable regardless of her sister’s fervent deathbed pleas otherwise. Deirdre had been graceful, petite, fair, soft-spoken, and mild-mannered.
She
was what Colin desired for a spouse, not her.

Makenna opened her eyes and peered over the semi-slick rock to study the other side of the slim oval-shaped loch. The opposite shoreline was a good distance away, but she knew instantly she was alone.

More than once, she had seen Colin use the grassy banks across from her secluded rocks as an entrance to the peace and cold the loch provided. She was positive he had never been aware of her presence. He was too focused when he swam, vigorously stroking the cool water as if he were trying to drive out a demon. She had watched in secret fascination.

He was big and powerful and proud. There was no mistaking him for a Lowlander. Everything about Colin, from his stance, to his walk, to his all-around demeanor exposed his Highlander origins. He was arrogant and overbearing, but he moved beautifully. She had never seen a man with such control over everything he did. Though she would never admit it, even to Deirdre if she were still alive, Makenna had often wished to find someone with Colin’s self-discipline, muscular body, and ability to lead.

Never,
however, did she wish it to be Colin McTiernay. “No, I want someone who will love me, not dominate me. I want someone I can trust, who will trust me in return. Forgive me, Lord, but,
damn you, Colin McTiernay!”
she shouted before dropping down into the water and swimming underneath its surface to the shore.

Colin came to an immediate halt. He had debated on jumping into the cold retreat, but at the last moment, he had changed his mind. Instead, he had dismounted his horse and led it around the small loch knowing each step brought him closer to Lochlen…and his fate. He had no doubt Makenna’s reaction had been explosive when Dunlop relayed his decision. She was most likely pacing in front of the outer gate preparing to spring a stream of arguments upon him.

Colin swallowed heavily. If he dreaded returning home now, how could he bear living with her…being married to her? The question was still ringing in his head when he heard the splashing and unintelligible mutterings of a female.

Colin moved into the shadows, welcoming the diversion, curious to discover who was foolish enough to swim alone and in the dark. A second later, he knew the identity of the fool. The familiar hiss followed by a “Damn you, Colin McTiernay!” left no doubt as to who the night swimmer was—Makenna.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Colin tied his horse to a nearby branch and turned to reprimand her for once again ditching her guards. Before he could utter a word, he was struck dumb and immobile.

Unaware of Colin’s presence, Makenna rose out of the water completely nude. She threw her head back to wring out her hair. The action thrust her pale breasts upward. Colin watched unable to breathe as the droplets of water slid down the curvature of each full swell to her navel and then lower.

The cresting moon provided just enough light to reveal a level of female perfection he had not realized was possible until now. Colin knew he should move, say something to let Makenna know he was there, but he was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. Instead, he stared transfixed and became, for the first time since he could remember, unmistakably—and worse—
uncontrollably
aroused.

The concept was inconceivable. He had always been able to contain his passions. He could blame the unexpected reaction on his empty bed. He could claim that seeing any naked woman would make him hard with need, but it would not be the truth. Makenna Dunstan was incredibly beautiful.

Her face, no longer hidden by her mass of fiery hair, revealed delicate facial bones and a full mouth. Her skin was the color of pale cream mixed with a bare pink tint. Long, wet tendrils fell behind her shoulders down to the middle of her back, softening her athletic appearance. For the first time, Colin could see both her strength and her femininity. Makenna was not a fragile, ethereal fairy creature, but a woman made for a man.

Makenna reached for her chainse and pulled it on. The worn cloth clung to her wet skin. Knowing now what secrets it hid, Colin wanted to reach out and rip the gown off her. He wanted to touch her skin and discover if it was as soft as it looked from the shadows.

Colin leaned back against the tree trunk and forced himself to take a deep breath. He had no idea what was happening, but he had to stop it. There was one sure way to end this violent need coursing through him and that was just to talk to her. Makenna could drive a man to the brink of insanity faster than anyone. Surely, three words from her and the world would be righted again. He opened his eyes and moved out from the shadows.

Makenna was wrapping the gold belt of her bliaut around her waist when she heard the crack of a twig break beneath someone’s foot. “Who goes there?”

“It is I, Makenna,” Colin said softly, emerging halfway out of the trees. He was waiting for his body to calm, but the fire in his loins seemed to grow only hotter when her eyes found his. Independence, strength, and passion shimmered in the bright emerald depths.

Makenna was startled by Colin’s sudden appearance and low voice. He was half in the shadows, but she could still see his muscles rippling beneath his leine. The very way he stood was unlike any other man. She had never met anyone who was so at ease with himself as Colin McTiernay. Still, she always sensed he felt alone. He had the unswerving loyalty of his men, yet he never seemed to be one of them. Colin remained emotionally distant—even with his commanders.

She doubted anyone saw or even cared how isolated he was. Colin towered over everyone. He was undoubtedly the most skilled warrior his men had ever met. He exuded unbelievable strength just by his sheer size. Yet his blue eyes reflected a kind of lonesomeness she expected few saw.

Makenna suddenly realized she was staring at him. Pride immediately lashed out before he would realize the nature of her thoughts. “Decided to follow me yourself tonight, did you, McTiernay?”

Colin had thought for one moment they were going to have a real conversation, or at least a civil one. Her eyes had revealed concern and a longing for something right before they turned bright with indignation. The woman was a mixture of emotions, most of them incredibly exasperating. “No, it was by sheer accident I stumbled upon you still dripping from the loch,” he contended, pointing at her wet tresses. “Where are Gorten and Brodie?”

“Where do you think?” she retorted, jutting out her chin and placing her fists on her hips.

Colin rolled his eyes at her childish stance and waved his finger at her pose. “I think you find enjoyment in doing whatever I ask you not to do.”