A Highlander's Obsession (Highlander's Beloved) (16 page)

Paisley hated to turn up her nose. “I’ll take a small serving, please.” She handed him her plate.

“Want some haggis?” One of his thick eyebrows rose in question.

“Looks like sausage.”

“ ’Tis, but it’s made of the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep or lamb. Cook combines it with oats, fat, herbs, and spices and then bakes it in the animal’s stomach.”

Oh, dear God. I’m going to be sick
. “I’ll pass. I’m … ah … not a big breakfast eater. I’ll just have some of those lovely scones and jam, please.”

Gram shoveled in neeps and tatties. “I missed supper last night and I’m starved this morning. Creighton, what are your plans for today? I was wondering if you could drive Paisley
and me to Angus’s estate.”

Creighton shifted in his chair to focus on Gram. His thigh rested against Paisley’s and her tummy did a twitchy thing. “I canna today, I’m afraid. I have a business meeting scheduled later. I can be at yer disposal tomorrow afternoon, ma’am, if that’s agreeable.”

“That would be fine.”

“By then the roads should be clear of ice and snow from last night’s storm. The temperature is rising and should melt things nicely.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Gram bit into a haggis and moaned. “Oh, sweet pea, you’ve got to try one of these.”

Paisley’s stomach rolled. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Ronan strolled into the dining hall and filled a plate before sitting on the other side of her. “Good morning, Paisley. I was wondering if ye’d like a tour of our castle.” He rested his arm across the back of her chair. “I’d be glad to show ye around after breakfast.”

Was he flirting with her? He’d been friendly since her arrival, but his demeanor was different this morning.

“She canna.” Creighton’s coffee mug stilled halfway to his mouth. His voice came out low and menacing. “Colleen wants to show Paisley her doll collection. Besides …” He gulped his brew and slammed his cup on the table. “Lorna requires yer attention. She’s shooting dark looks at Paisley. I’ll not have ye using me woman to drive away one ye dinna want.”

Paisley seethed. Really, sometimes the man was just too commanding. “
Your
woman?”

His brown eyes narrowed on hers, the golden flecks in them glowing. “Aye. Mine.” His square chin jutted like a child laying claim to a toy.

Well, she was not to be toyed with or treated as if she were an object.

She slapped her napkin on the table and stood. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “First of all, I’m engaged. Second, I’d sooner have an affair with an organ grinder’s monkey or a dancing bear than have your grimy paws on me.”

She was halfway out of the dining room when Creighton’s booming laughter fanned the flames of her temper.
Damn arrogant man
.

After slamming the door to her suite, Paisley tugged her suitcase from the closet and started packing. She’d had enough of Scotland and the country’s overconfident men. As soon as she was able to get an Internet connection, she’d reserve the first flights home. All she had to do
was talk Gram into leaving quicker than planned. Surely there were property-management companies in Scotland. Gram shouldn’t have to deal with overseeing a big estate at her age.

Someone knocked at her door and when she jerked it open, Creighton stood there with a tray. “Ye dinna finish yer breakfast. Since ye slept through dinner last night, I’m thinking ye might be hungry.” He winked. “Temper or no.” He sauntered into the sitting room and set the tray on the desk.

His gaze swept to her bedroom doorway and her partially filled suitcase lying open on the bed. Dark slashes of eyebrows dipped into a V. “Are ye packing to leave?” His voice had lowered, and he scowled at her, a muscle bunching in his cheek.

“Yes.” She pushed her glasses farther up her nose and cleared her throat. Nerves skittered across her skin like a spider racing up the wall. In an act of defiance she hiked her chin and glared, daring him to say something. This was
her
life, by damn. “Yes. I’m going home to Virginia and my fiancé.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn his muscles expanded with some unseen force. Mercy, he grew before her eyes. She could have sworn he growled like a wild animal. His hands snapped to his waist. “Are ye now?”

She gathered resolve and squared her shoulders. This big galoot would not intimidate her. Even so, Creighton’s forbidding expression made her step backward. He stalked toward her, his face tensed, eyes narrowed, and jaw set.

Why was he so angry? “I should think you’d be glad to see me go.” Her back met the wall and she sidestepped toward the fireplace. “All we do is argue.” Her nerves sizzled sultry through her system.
Damn, he’s hot when he’s pissed
.

“Aye, and why is that, lassie?” His head tilted to the side as he slowly advanced. “Why do we argue? Surely ye know it’s not dislike I’m feeling, but attraction.”

“Attraction?” God, just the word tumbling from his lips made her panties damp. The sound of his voice and that Scottish burr did her in and turned her on so much she couldn’t think of anything but him. Yet, the fact remained she was engaged. Loyalty was so important, especially after she’d been shown so little by her parents.

His arm snaked out and pulled her against his hard chest. “Aye, a fierce attraction.” His other hand fisted in her hair and drew her head back so she was forced to stare into his dark eyes. “When a man experiences the thrill of an extraordinary woman walking into his life and knows
he canna bear to see her leave, he becomes desperate. So, I’m warning ye, Paisley. If ye go, I’m following ye to America. Do ye ken what I’m saying?” Determination and certainty pulsated from his eyes. His pupils were enlarged and his voice tinged with both resolve and desire.

“You wouldn’t?” Follow her? He
had
to be kidding but, oh, how his words and passionate demeanor made her insides beg for him. Never had she desired a man like this.

His hold on her tightened and his head lowered. “Aye,
leannan
, I would. Ye are the water to me thirst. Together, we are complete.” His lips covered hers and he slowly took control of her mouth, her mind, and, God help her, her heart.

Only one word tainted the rightness of the moment.

Engaged.

She was engaged to another man.

What kind of woman allowed one man to kiss her while she was betrothed to another? She pushed him away. “You forget I have a fiancé.” She swiped at tears scalding her cheeks. “When I’m near you, I forget about him too. Don’t you see? This is why I have to leave Scotland. My attraction to you is so wrong.”

“Wrong?” his voice roared.

She planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare yell at me!”

“Sweet pea, did that nice Creighton bring you …” Gram halted, her hand on the doorknob. Her gaze swept from one to the other before she charged into the room. “Creighton, why is she crying? Why has your aura changed? It’s muddled with swirling deep reds and tinged with black. What has you so angry?”

“Bloody auras.” Creighton rolled his eyes before trapping Paisley’s chin between his thumb and index finger. “There’s nothing wrong with how I feel about ye.”

“What I feel for you is wrong. Nothing can ever come of it. I will not break Alex’s trust.”

“He dinna deserve ye.” Dark eyes bore into hers. “I meant what I said,
leannan
. Every word. Every kiss. I plan to woo ye until ye agree to be mine.” He stalked around Gram, his footsteps fierce as he stormed out of the suite. “And ye damned well
will
stay in Scotland,” he roared before slamming the door.

Creighton saved his entries on the accounting program for the lodge and reached for a piece of the honey-filled hard candy he kept in a basket on his desk. The wrapping crinkled as he unwound the twisted end and popped the treat into his mouth. Work always cooled his temper. Today was no exception; he was calmer now, after he’d morphed into a raving lunatic over Paisley’s decision to leave Scotland.

He opened the lodge’s reservation schedule. With a convention coming in two weeks, March promised to be a good month. If he could convince Paisley and Effie to stay on for a few weeks, it would be an exceptional month. To do that, though, he’d have to back away, keep his passions in check. He’d made her cry earlier, and he couldna endure seeing tears tumble from her beautiful eyes again.

Proceeding with caution would be the key. He clasped his hands behind his head, propped his boots on the desk, and stared at the fire in the hearth. Then what? What exactly did he hope to achieve where Paisley was concerned?

A chance.

He wanted a chance to convince her how good they could be together. With any luck, she’d fall in love with him the way he had with her. The attraction was definitely there. Hadn’t they just experienced a second round of the heat of their passion upstairs? Hell, his body still hummed with desire.

Having her in his arms again and kissing her was a tender moment he’d not soon forget. If only she wasn’t the type of woman to honor her promise to a bloody bampot like her fiancé, he’d have made love to her again. But wasn’t her loyalty one of the things he loved about her? Hell, there were a dozen commendable qualities about the woman that endeared her to him. He smirked. Commendable
and
sexy, with those glasses that never stayed in place and legs that had wrapped so nicely around his hips last night. He hardened to the point of pain, remembering her crying out his name as she came … and the fierce pride and tender caring that swelled to huge proportions within his chest when she did. His hand trailed under his sweater to cover his erection that seemed insistent on peeking out the waistband of his jeans—or tenting his kilt—ever since Paisley’s arrival.
Aye, she is well and truly me obsession
.

Sexual needs aside, he had to worm his way into her heart to make her realize she needed him as much as he needed her. He’d have to convince her they could have a fulfilling life together, both of them pursuing their careers and raising their wee sweet bairns. With any luck, she’d embrace his sleuth, as well.

What made an animal communicator tick? Obviously she had a strong connection to the creature kingdom. Would her emotional link carry over into his sleuth’s realm? He closed his eyes on a sigh of resignation. No doubt she’d have to love him a lot to have complete acceptance of his dual existence. Helping a frightened mare deliver her first foal or tending to a dog with a thorn in his paw was one thing. Understanding a human could shift into bear form was something entirely different. Now that he’d erased her memory of Ronan’s telling of the Matheson tale and his shifting in front of her, she’d have to experience it all again. He’d protect her this time, and make sure she learned the truth in small segments, so as not to overwhelm her.

He lowered his feet and sat forward in his chair. Before he led her slowly and carefully through the process, he had to win her love, show her how deeply he cared.

“Flowers would be nice.”

“Bloody hell!” Creighton jumped and snatched his hand from under his sweater before expelling another ripe curse. His great-grandmother was the sneakiest ghost, who could appear at the worst times, like when his fingers covered the head of his erection.

“Language.”
The shadowy form stood across the desk from him.

“Quit appearing without notice. Give some fair warning, why dinna ye?”

“It’s what ghosts do. Ye ken that. I appear where I’m needed. Now order Paisley some flowers. Fresh. Sentimental ones that’ll make her sigh. Women love to sigh. I must go. Colleen is getting testy with Bryce again. He needs a wife too.”

“Concentrate on me younger brother and leave me the hell alone,” he preached to her retreating misty outline.

“Language.”
Her cool mist shimmered through the closed door.

Creighton slipped his cell from his pocket and dialed the florist. “I’d like to order fresh flowers for someone. Do ye have red roses and sweet golden gale in stock?”

A familiar four-beat rap sounded at Creighton’s office door just as he put his cell away. “Come in, Mum.”

The door opened and the aroma of a strong brew wafted toward him. “Brought ye coffee
and some sticky buns.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Have I told ye, ye are the best mum in the world?”

“Not since the last time I made sticky buns.” She set the tray on his desk. “Have time for a chat?” She slid a leather chair in front of his desk.

He bit into the warm pastry, cinnamon and honey sweetness making his mouth happy. “Sure.”

“What’s going on between ye and Paisley?” She settled in the chair and crossed her arms. He recognized the set of her jaw. She would accept nothing but the truth.

“You’ve always said I resemble Da the most.”

She smiled and nodded. “Aye, son, ye do. Ye have his tenacity, his demanding nature, and his wide heart.” A look of sadness crossed her face. “He was me only love. I miss him with every breath I take.”

“I know ye do, Mum. The two of ye had a fierce love, and it seems I’ve fallen for Paisley as quickly and as deeply as Da did for ye.” Had he actually spoken the words? Aye, and they were words of truth, even if he wasn’t ready to share them with everyone. He sipped his coffee and reached for a second bun. “This conversation is just between ye and me and not to be shared. I don’t want Ronan and Bryce thinking they can tease me … or her. I won’t have her embarrassed.”

“Och, ye think they don’t already know? It’s as plain as the nose on yer face how ye feel about her.”

“Then why did ye ask about me feelings?” He sucked the sticky honey syrup off his fingers.

She waved a napkin at him, scowling. What was it about mothers and their kids licking off their fingers? “What do ye plan on doing about her? How does
she
feel about ye and yer attraction to her?”

He snatched the linen from her grasp. “I plan on wooing her. I have a feeling the milksop she’s engaged to has never romanced her.”

“Engaged?” Her eyes opened wide and then narrowed. “Och, son, ’tis not a good thing to chase after another man’s woman.”