A Highlander's Obsession (Highlander's Beloved) (17 page)

“Pahh. He didna think enough of her to gift her with a ring. He allowed her to come to Scotland unescorted.”

The corners of his mum’s lips twitched. “Somehow I don’t think the word ‘allow’ is in Paisley’s vocabulary. It was never in mine and yer da soon found that out. Does she know how ye feel? Is that what has her in a snit?”

He choked on his coffee. “Snit?”

“Aye, she marched up to Ronan, big as ye please, hooked her arm in his, and asked him to take her on a tour of the castle.”

He snapped straight in his chair. “She dinna!”

“When yer brother suggested ye would probably want to escort her, she hiked that pointy chin of hers and said—”

His stomach tensed and his jaw clenched. “Aye?”

His mum expelled a snigger. “She said ye were probably too busy yelling at people and issuing orders to be bothered with her. Who have ye been yelling at, son?”

Creighton jumped to his feet. “Bloody hell!” He rounded the desk. “When I get me hands on her, I will damn well kiss away her snit and what in hell’s blazes is she doing with Ronan?”

His mum snagged his arm. “Sit down while I talk some sense into ye.” When he hesitated, she pointed and used her mother voice. “Sit!”

He flopped into his office chair and folded his arms across the top of his desk.

His mum glared at him.

He scowled back.

“A man must approach a woman he cares about with caution and respect.”

He opened his mouth to tell her that Paisley
was
his, and he wanted his two unattached brothers to stay away from her, when his mum shook a finger at him.

“I’m warning ye, if ye charge in and disrupt Ronan’s time with her, ye will appear feckin’ overbearing and unsure of yourself. You’re familiar with the term stalker? There are many ways to stalk a woman.”

“People who engage in that kind of behavior mean to do harm. I would never hurt her.”

“Stalkers mean to have power over the object of their affections.” She leaned toward him. “What were ye meaning to do just now? Rush to her so ye could control who she speaks to? Actions like that scream of insecurity, Creighton Duff Matheson. Is the head of our clan an insecure man?”

He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Was his mum right? Was he seeking to
control Paisley? “I want her to care for me. I want her to remain in Scotland long enough to win her love.” He opened his eyes and set his gaze on the wise woman in front of him. “I’m not insecure. I’m”—he waved a hand—“impatient.”

“Aye, ye always were.” She nodded. “Give the lass room to breathe, son.”

Easier said than done
. With Paisley here for only a short span of time, he felt an urgency to earn her love and loyalty as soon as possible; a sense of panic clawed at him. “There’s a
cèilidh
the day after tomorrow at the high school. Paisley might enjoy going to a Scottish dance.”

His mum’s eyes twinkled. “Aye. A great idea. I’ll see she has a skirt to wear.”

He laced his fingers behind his neck and leaned back in his chair. “Make sure it’s made of our tartan. I’m thinking she’ll need a tartan sash too, and flats for dancing.” Shouldna he be the one to choose her gifts? By doing so, he could show her how precious she was to him. “I’ll shop for her outfit if ye can get me her sizes.” The idea of taking her to a
cèilidh
held more appeal by the second. This social event would give her a glimpse into life in the Highlands. It might lighten things between them if she were still upset over his anger.

“I sometimes lose me temper.”

“Aye, ye do. We all do. That’s why ye need to show her all the sides of ye. The good and the bad … and the bear.”

He forked his fingers in his hair, pushing it back. “I canna let her see the bear. Not yet. I need her to care for the man part of me first.” He didn’t want Paisley to faint again. “I ordered her some flowers and couldna think of anything to put on the card but me name.” He scooped his cell off the desk. “Maybe I’ll tell the florist to send along a blank card and I’ll use it to invite her to the
cèilidh
.”

His mother stood. “Aye, and be prepared for other men to ask her to dance. Give her room.” She picked up the tray she’d brought in. “But don’t be afraid to show her a wee bit of possession. Women like that … in
small
amounts.”

Small? Hell, I dinna ken if I can do small
.

* * *

Paisley walked beside Ronan as he led her through the castle, methodically sharing a bit of family history about each room and its contents. The entire place was a maze of antiquity.
Fascination over each room, hall, painting, tapestry and antique furnishing swept her along as Ronan gestured and talked. What would it be like to live among such treasures anchoring her to the past?

“This is Creighton’s office.” Ronan rapped on the door before opening it. “I’ve got Paisley with me. I thought I’d show her yer office.”

She tugged on the back of Ronan’s green shirt. “I’ve seen it already, thank you. I’ll go back to my room now.”

Before she’d finished her pivot to escape, a warm hand settled on her back and her stomach trembled in response. A dark head leaned into her peripheral vision. “Please, Paisley, won’t ye step inside?”
Said the spider to the fly
.

Her gaze shifted to his brown eyes, their golden flecks more pronounced than usual. His smile was warm and charming. He was obviously in a better mood now. “I was going to call my fiancé.” It wouldn’t hurt to remind Creighton of her engagement to another man.

The golden flecks in his eyes glowed and a faint growl seeped from his throat … or was she hearing things?

“I willna keep ye long, then. Might I have a few words with ye about my foul disposition earlier?” His hand expertly turned her toward his office and he escorted her in.

She glanced around the room. “Where’s Ronan?”

“He went out the side entrance.” Creighton jerked a thumb toward a closed door. “He just got a text about a plumbing problem. Seems Mum’s having a conniption. Would ye care for a Coke? I keep a few at the bar.” The warmth of his hand lingered even after he removed it and strode toward a carved antique server with a small refrigerator next to it. “Please, have a seat.”

She sat in a leather chair facing the fireplace. “Was there really an emergency, or did you want to get me alone?”

“Yes to both questions.” Creighton bumped a matching leather chair with his hip until he’d pushed it to within mere inches of hers. He settled his muscular frame into it. With a snap, he opened a can and extended it to her before popping the tab on his. “Did ye enjoy yer tour of our home?” He stretched his long legs toward the stone hearth and guzzled his drink.

She sipped at hers, willing her stone of nerves to allow the liquid to pass. How could he sit there so calmly, as if they hadn’t embraced and kissed a few hours ago? Well, she could play the denial game too—if her heart would cooperate and quit hammering a salsa beat. “Yes. Ronan
makes an excellent guide. So knowledgeable. So interesting.” She sipped her drink again. “So polite.”

A scowl sauntered across his features. His broad black eyebrows dipped to meet his narrowed eyes. He raised the can to his mouth, stilling it before he tipped it to his full lips. “Me brother’s a feckin’ bas’.”

She sighed for effect. “He seems quite virile too. I’m surprised he’s still single.” Goodness, was she playing games with this man? This was so not her style. A shudder galloped through her muscles when he aimed a dark glower her way.

“Careful,
leannan
. Ye go too far.”

“Oh?” His arrogance was like a boil on her butt—chafing and annoying. “Well, maybe you went a little too far this morning when you yelled at me.”

“I’m not the best at bestowing apologies. In this case, I’m thinking it’s warranted.” He reached to wrap his hand around hers. “I’m sorry fer losing me temper. I made ye cry. I carry no pride for that cowardly act. A real man dinna hurt a woman to the point of tears.”

The man was just too much. Too handsome, too commanding, too arrogant, and at times like this, too gentle. Tears scalded the backs of her eyes and she turned her head, blinking them away, hoping he hadn’t seen them.

A mumbled curse floated her way. Creighton set his can down and stood, pulling her from the chair. “I’m sorry.” He enveloped her in his arms and drew her close. A kiss was pressed to her hair. “Please dinna cry, love.”

He tucked two fingers under her chin and tipped her head. “As laird, I have many obligations and I take them all seriously. Me extended family depends on me. Their needs are almost always uppermost in me mind. I issue orders and expect them to be followed. I forget sometimes how dogmatic I sound. ’Tis not me wish to order ye about or frighten ye.” He pressed a gentle kiss to first one corner of her mouth and then the other. “I want only the best fer ye, fer ye are all I can think about. Ye’ve become me sweet obsession.”

With just an embrace and a few well-placed kisses, her body quickly warmed, yearning for more. Why him? Why couldn’t Alex turn her on like this Scot, who seemed to intuitively know how to liquefy her insides? Yet as much as she disliked betraying her fiancé, being in Creighton’s arms seemed natural. “I’m not sure I believe what you say.”

“If you’d have been here earlier to see the misery in me eyes, you’d know I speak the
truth.” He interspersed kisses to her jaw and neck between words.

“No one’s ever talked to me the way you do.” Certainly never Alex.

His hand forked through the back of her hair and fisted, pulling her face upward so she was forced to look into his eyes. “Aye, lassie. That’s because ye’ve never met a man whose emotions drove him to the edge of desire’s madness.” His lips covered hers, possessive, demanding and tugging her along the trail of longing as if they were both swept away by this sensual madness.

The kiss was electric. It must have been, for it zapped current along her skin and melted the bones in her legs. Her nipples rose into painful points needing his touch, his mouth. Tremors of passion arced from his massive form to hers. A deep groan rumbled, and he eased back enough to close his lips over her lower lip, then gently bite it before sweeping in with his tongue to explore and taste. While he continued his assault on her senses, all guilt for betraying Alex faded. The only person who remained was him—only him.

Her need to touch him grew to gigantic proportions. When her hands slipped beneath his sweater, sweeping up the hardened planes of his back, he groaned in approval. As she expected, warm skin covered firm muscles. In response to her touch, his fingertips slipped inside the back of her waistband to cup her behind. Their act of touching each other’s skin drove the kiss to deeper, frantic levels. He squeezed her ass and she moaned, and in her answering desire, she raked her fingernails down his back.

He groaned in response and lifted his head a fraction. “What a passionate woman ye are. I love how ye respond to me.” He captured her lips again and lifted her from the floor, so their groins met and his palm ground her pelvis into his erection.

When he finally broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers. The yellow flecks in his brown eyes glowed golden, their power trip-wired the beating of her heart. “Now, go call yer fiancé and tell him ye’ve just come from the arms of a Scottish laird who desires ye more than his next breath. Fer I mean to have ye, Paisley, and I’ll enter the bowels of hell to fight fer your heart.” He slowly slid her down his frame, determination blazing from his eyes.

Oh, dear Lord. He means it
. She spun and hurried from Creighton’s office as if the hounds of hell nipped at her heels.

Minutes later, she locked her suite, pressed her back against the door, and inhaled a deep breath. Dear God, the commanding qualities of that man, the power he exerted over her body. Her legs trembled and her mind whirled in a vortex of sensual reactions.

Gram stepped into the sitting room. “I feel much better after my nap.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Sweet pea? What is it?”

Paisley’s hands rose and then flopped to her sides. “He won’t stop kissing me.”

“He, meaning Creighton?”

She nodded. “I … I told him I was calling Alex.” She flopped onto the sofa and placed her hands on her heated cheeks before focusing on Gram. “He grabbed me by the hair …”

Gram perched on the arm of the sofa and closed her eyes on a sigh. “Ohhh, my.”

“Then he kissed me as if his life depended on it. All my feminine parts trembled so badly it knocked my brain out of kilter, and I kissed him right back.”

Gram’s wrinkled hand fluttered to her bony chest. “I love it when that happens.”

“I … I scratched his back, Gram. I got so caught up in the feelings of the kiss, I scratched his back like … like …”

A huge smile spread and wrinkled Gram’s cheeks before she sighed. “Like a cat in heat. Oh, how
delicious
.”

“You think so? I don’t. He’s the only man who’s ever made me respond like that.” She pushed her hands through her hair. “I’m an engaged woman who kissed another man. I’m a horrible, horrible person.”

Gram patted her knee. “Don’t ever be ashamed when a man comes along to rattle your china cupboard, sweet pea.” She winked. “We all need our dishes thrown about from time to time. Your granddad certainly knew how to tinkle mine. God, I miss that heavy-hung man.”

“Gram! TMI.” Lord, the woman was incorrigible.
And after the way I just reacted in Creighton’s arms, I suppose the old saying the nut didn’t fall far from the tree is true
.

She waved aside Paisley’s scolding with her wrinkled hand and moved to sit in the corner of the sofa. “Pahhh. Sex and love are what make the world go round. It’s the heart of poetry and music. I knew pompous Alex wasn’t ringing your bell.”

“There’s more.” Paisley shifted in her seat to look Gram directly in the eye. “When he ended the kiss, he released me and, in a booming voice, ordered me to call my fiancé and tell him I was just in the arms of a man who would enter the bowels of hell to win my love.”

Gram clapped her hands a couple times. “Oh, sweet pea, he’s the
one
.” Another mischievous grin spread before she crossed her arms. “Now, about the length of our stay here. With this inheritance, I’ll have some business to attend to, like a new will. James Aiken has agreed to represent me in these matters. If Uncle Angus trusted him, I’m thinking I can too. I want you to pay careful attention to the house on the estate when we go see it tomorrow. Iverson Glenn will be yours one day.”