Embrace the Highland Warrior (4 page)

“You’re staying here?”

“I’m afraid your ankle might be fractured. I’m not having you go up and down those stairs if you need something to eat or drink. You got a spare toothbrush?”

“There should be some in the guest bathroom.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re sweating.”

She was roasting, but she wasn’t certain if it was from the sweater or Cody’s hands.

“Sure you don’t want to take off the sweater?”

“I don’t have anything else to wear.”

He eased her wrapped ankle under the covers and then disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, he returned shirtless, buttoning his jeans. He tossed his T-shirt and underwear on the bed. “They’re clean. I showered and changed after the lake.” He picked up her wet clothes. “Sleep tight,” he said, and with a shuttered look, he left.

Shay stared at the T-shirt and boxer briefs, still half-molded in his form. She slowly picked them up. A rush of heat surged from her head to her bandaged ankle. She’d worn Cody’s underwear before, when she was in a jam, but that was when they were kids, not with him all… filled out. Swallowing, she got out of bed, took off the sweater, and put on his things. They smelled like him, clean but male. Sensations she didn’t want to describe zinged through her body.

She climbed back in bed, but was too wound up to sleep, thinking about how close Cody’s T-shirt and underwear had been to his body. She needed a distraction. Renee. She would have a conniption when she found out who had just left Shay’s bedroom. Renee would douse Shay’s fire. Shay dialed from the phone by her bed, but still no answer. Where was Renee? She was prone to spontaneous trips, but it wasn’t like her to disappear when she knew Shay was coming.

Shay glanced at her watch. Nina and Matilda never went to bed before midnight. Better check in with Nina before she and Matilda showed up pounding on the door. Matilda answered the phone before it finished the first ring. “Frank Simpson, go jump in the lake, or go find that floozy, Ethel Mae. She’s probably strutting her stuff over at the Moose Lodge right now, since she got rid of those big ol’ varicose veins.”

“Matilda,” Shay shouted, but the phone went dead. She sighed and redialed.

“You oversexed pervert—”

“Aunt Matilda, it’s Shay.” Matilda wasn’t her aunt; she was Nina’s cousin, but Matilda didn’t have kids, and she liked it when Shay called her aunt.

“Shay?” Matilda’s voice dropped from deafening to almost deafening. “I thought you were Frank Simpson.”

“I’m sorry I called so late. I hope you weren’t asleep.”

“How could anyone sleep with Frank Simpson roaming the earth?”

“What’s he up to now, Aunt Matilda?” Matilda and Frank were always fighting over something.

“He’s writing a review for some old folks’ magazine. Keeps pestering me to check out some bed and breakfasts with him. Old folks? Well! You know as well as I do that I just turned fifty-nine.” Matilda had been fifty-nine since Shay finished middle school. “Says he needs a female perspective. Last year he asked Janice Childress to check out ski lodges with him. The stories I heard would’ve made a sailor blush. It wasn’t her
perspective
he was after. Had to get her to repeat the tale twice, just to make sure I heard right. Thought I’d have to go to confession, just from listening to it, or do penance or something. Do they still do that?”

“I—”

“Anyway, the man just won’t take no for an answer. It’s my red hair, you know. It’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull. I’ll bet Frank’s over at the pharmacy right now picking up Viagra. Pervert. It took me five years to find this color, and now I’m going to have to change it. I’d rather have my heart ripped out than tell Eduardo. He customized this color for me. Razzing Red, he calls it. Nobody else has it. I just don’t know what he’ll do. You remember, Eduardo. He’s so temperamental. All those artists are. I think he’s a
Homo
sapien
.”

“You mean homosex—never mind.”

“All the good ones are. They just understand hair. I think it’s genetic.”

“I just—”

“You really think that Viagra works? I’ve heard that some men go around… you know, stuck like that for hours. Must be uncomfortable, not to mention embarrassing. Why, you couldn’t even leave the house. And what if you had to tinkle? Oh, listen to me blabbering on when you must want to talk to Nina. She’s been going on and on about you coming home. I’m so glad you’re there. You belong in Virginia. It’s a good, safe place. No one would break into your shop here. I’ll call Nina for you.”

Shay yanked the phone away from her ear, but not fast enough.

“Nina! It’s Shay!” Matilda yelled. “Now you take care of yourself, Shay, and kiss those boys for me. If you were smart, you’d marry one of them.”

Marry? Shay looked down at Cody’s T-shirt draping her body and his underwear caressing her intimate parts.

“Shay, how are you?” Nina’s voice was a hair lower than Matilda’s. Neither of them could hear squat. In the background, Matilda continued to rant about Frank.

“I’m okay, Nina.”

“How nice to hear a sane voice. Did you talk to the police?”

“They arrested the guy. It’s fine.”

“Did you happen to get his name, this intruder?” Nina asked, her voice stilted.

All Nina knew was that someone had broken into Shay’s shop. Shay wouldn’t have told her that much, but Nina had known something was wrong. “It was some strange name. Franklin or something.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

It was?

“Tell me, how is it to be home? The boys should be back soon.”

“The boys came home early. I didn’t know Cody was back.”

Nina paused. “I didn’t mention it? Are you sure?”

“I’m certain—”

“I must have forgotten. You know how distracted I get around Matilda. I’m telling you, she’s driving me insane, dragging me to all these bingo games. Now she wants to take me to Atlantic City to meet some of her friends. I swear, I think she has a gambling problem. I might have to do an intervention. I saw this program on TV where they had to do that. I shudder to think of it, but a woman her age ought to have more control. But enough about Matilda. Isn’t it just like old times with all the boys there?”

“It does bring back memories.” Some that would shock Nina’s socks off her dainty feet.

“You should’ve come home once in a while. I do hope you’ll forgive us and move back now. The place needs someone living in it, and I just couldn’t leave Matilda alone. God knows what kind of trouble she’d get into.”

“I’m still considering it, Nina.” Of course that was before she found out Cody was back.

“Well, I’d better go calm Matilda down before she has a stroke. It’s her own fault. Imagine, a woman her age showing cleavage. It’s ridiculous. Last month I talked her out of breast implants. Say hello to the boys for me. Hasn’t Cody turned out handsome? Joan, you remember my friend Joan? She’s the one who moved to Scotland a year ago. She tried to set him up with her daughter when he was in Scotland last month, but I wasn’t having any of that. The girl wasn’t right for him at all.”

“He was in Scotland?”

“Yes. She had a necklace stolen. He went to help her find it.”

“When?”

“Oh, three or four weeks ago. Turned out her neighbor’s son had stolen the necklace for his girlfriend. Cody’s the best PI around. You can ask anybody. I’m surprised he didn’t stop by to see you. He was asking about you. Remember how close you two were? Two peas in a pod.”

Shay hung up, dazed. Cody
had
been in Scotland recently, just about the time she acquired a stalker.

***

Malek stared at the empty drawer where the book had been hidden. He could still feel the texture of the yellowed pages, see the faded ink. It had taken him centuries to learn of the book’s existence and even longer to find it. It had fallen in his hands like manna from hell and disappeared just as fast. He was sure the girl had stolen it. Shay Logan’s friend. He’d hired her so he could spy on Shay, and all the while, they had been spying on him, plotting to steal the book. A surge of anger thickened his bones and made his skin stretch. He had to find the book, and he had to find Shay. If she was the one, the mother of his enemy, she must be destroyed before she could breed. The doorbell jingled, startling him. He shifted back to human form, checking his appearance in the antique mirror on his office wall: auburn hair, silver streak, immaculate as always, suit, perfect. Shaping his lips into a smile, he opened the door with a manicured hand and stepped into the front room of his antique shop. His human heart stilled.

The man in the doorway had long, raven hair, and a face so beautiful queens had thrown themselves at his feet, but Malek knew what lurked inside was far from beautiful. Tristol’s eyes turned red as blood. “Where is my book?” he hissed.

***

The scent of fear drifted to Tristol, making his mouth water. He watched Malek’s face tighten, his shoulders tense as he tried to control the shift. It was too late. Malek’s human clothes and skin fell away, leaving a thick, gray hide, long arms and fingers tipped with lethal claws. Tristol sneered. Nearly a thousand years in this dimension, and still Malek couldn’t control the veneer of sophistication he wore as his disguise.

“What book?” Malek asked, trembling.

Tristol moved toward him, feet barely touching the floor. “The one you stole from my lieutenant as soon as my back was turned.”

“I don’t know what book you’re talking about.” Without the human shell, Malek’s voice was guttural, harsh. “Maybe Druan took it.”

Blame
the
dead
demon
, Tristol thought, but he remained silent. He had his methods of obtaining information. “I’ll be watching.” Tristol withdrew from Malek’s office, rang the shop doorbell, but didn’t leave. He shifted to mist and rose, slithering along the ceiling, then hovered outside Malek’s office.

Malek pulled out his cell phone. “Have you found Shay Logan? She’s left Scotland? Then find her. And find the book, or I’ll have you destroyed.”

Malek had stolen the book and lost it. Rage stirred inside Tristol, but he reined it in. He hadn’t lived this long to be undone by anger or one pathetic demon. Certainly not a human female. He had time, enough to make Malek wish he had never lived, and he had the name of the thief. Shay Logan.

Chapter 3

After an hour of tossing, Cody climbed out of the guest bed and put on his jeans. He moved quietly down the hall and slipped through the open door of Shay’s bedroom. She lay curled on her side, her breasts rising and falling in an even rhythm. How many times over the years would he have given his sword arm to be this close to her? He touched the lock of hair spread across her pillow and brought his fingers to his lips. The sight of her braless in his T-shirt made him long to crawl into bed with her. He cursed himself as soon as the thought crossed his groin. It would be wise to leave before he did something he would regret. He noticed a lump under the covers beside her. He lifted the edge and saw the candlestick in her hand. A weapon? What did she expect him to do? Molest her? Then he saw the black and white picture carefully taped underneath. He studied it for a minute, then rubbed his hands through his hair. His chest felt hollow. What had they done to her? He reached down and tucked in her covers, letting his thumb stray across her cheek. Sighing, he walked to the sofa, sat down, and watched her sleep.

***

The
light
was
so
bright
the
man
seemed
to
glow. She tried to look at his face, but it made her eyes hurt, so she concentrated on his deep, melodic voice, attempting to understand his words. He was speaking to someone, another man, she thought, but she couldn’t see him clearly either. A baby began to wail, and then she heard the glowing man say, “Take her back. It’s not time.”

Shay woke with a gasp, heart hammering against her ribs, arm stinging. She looked around the room, half expecting to see the glowing man. Cody sat on the sofa, head slumped to one side, asleep. His hair was messy, as if he’d been running his hands through it, the way he did when he was thinking. In the hours since she arrived, she hadn’t had an opportunity to really look at him. She eased out of bed and moved closer. There were shadows under his eyes, but his face was relaxed. A hint of beard darkened his jaw. She watched the subtle movements of his body as he drew and released each breath, making his tattoos move. The grip on her heart tightened. For months after she left, she dreamed of him every night and woke crying with his scent still in her head, as if he were in the room with her. She’d spent the last nine years thinking he betrayed her. He’d spent them thinking she had done the same to him. Granted, he lied about her past, but he believed he was protecting her, as they all had. She forgave Nina and Cody’s brothers, but not him, not her best friend.

She stretched out her hand to touch his arm, but stopped. He was a stranger now. At one time they’d shared everything, thoughts, fears, and dreams. They kept no secrets—or so she thought—but she had no idea who this Cody was, what he liked, what he didn’t, what made him smile, or what made him sad. What were his mornings like? His evenings? Did he go to bed content at night? Did he go to bed alone? Had he loved? Been loved?

The feeling hit her in a sickening wave, like waking up and finding her legs were gone. She backed away. She needed to get some air, refocus. She was a grown woman, successful. She had built a life.
One
that
didn’t include Cody,
an empty voice whispered.

Shay quietly brushed her teeth, trying not to wake him. He’d looked exhausted last night. Grabbing a small throw from the bottom of the bed, she wrapped it around her shoulders and tiptoed from the room. She went to put her clothes in the dryer and found that Cody had already done that too. He’d even gotten the bourbon stain out of her shirt. It made her want to run upstairs and wake him, tell him she was sorry for ruining their friendship, but she didn’t.

She changed her clothes and looked outside. The sun was peeking above the trees. If she hurried, she could make it to the tree house in time. Throwing the blanket around her, she stepped outside and breathed in the crisp, morning air. She crossed the back yard and headed for the woods. Her ankle was still tender, so she moved gingerly over branches littering the woods from last night’s storm. Shay remembered Old Elmer’s warning, but it was daylight. What danger could there be? All the predators would be asleep.

She climbed the small hill, heading for the pink blotch showing through the red and gold leaves. The color had faded with time, but Shay still smiled, remembering her victory. It took them weeks to build the tree house. They threw darts to see who chose the color. She won… that time, her victory recorded for posterity in Nina’s photo albums, Shay smiling triumphantly while the boys looked like martyrs being burnt alive.

Shay tested the ladder. The boards were still strong. Her ankle ached, but she wasn’t going to stop. She climbed inside, gently stretched out her leg, and felt an irrational sense of joy watching the pink ribbon in the sky turn to gold as it slid over the trees.

She was home. She was safe.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She peered over the edge. Cody stood with his hands folded across his bare chest, jeans low on his hips, glaring at her.

“Watching the sunrise.”

“Are you crazy? You sprained your ankle. Not to mention there could be poachers around.”

“No, I’m not crazy. My ankle’s okay.” Or it had been, before she walked up the hill.

“Then why are you holding it?”

“Go away or shut up. You’re ruining my sunrise.” She settled back in her blanket. The leaves around her shook, and Cody’s head appeared. He climbed inside and plopped down beside her. He had chill bumps on his arms. “Here,” she said, opening the blanket. After all, he’d given her his T-shirt.

He moved closer, pulling it around his shoulders. The feel of his bare arm against hers was more intimate than some full-body encounters she’d had. The beauty of the sunrise distracted her from the warmth melting into her skin. Shay sighed and leaned back. How had his arm gotten around her? Her head found the curve of his shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Aye.”

She felt his breath on her face and turned to look at him. He was staring at her like he had at the lake. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. His eyes spoke of things she only imagined in her dreams. He turned, facing her, and a hand crept up her arm, slowly winding in her hair. He tilted her head and lowered his, letting his mouth hover over hers, taking in her breath as she took in his. Every cell inside her vibrated with longing. She could feel him, smell him, almost taste him. He licked his lips, put both hands in her hair, and brought their mouths together.

Little shocks zinged through her body like a pinball machine. Her mouth opened, welcoming his tongue. Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. The kiss grew desperate, harder, faster, bodies pressing, and then she was lying with him on top of her, bodies aligned, hips nudging. She was distantly aware of her ankle creeping up his leg, when she bumped it on his thigh. She gasped, and Cody jerked his head back. He stared at her, gave a disgusted grunt, and rose. “I’m sorry.” He helped her sit up and blew out a breath. “Are you okay to walk back?”

“Yes,” she lied, pulling the blanket around her.

Jaw tight, he started down the ladder, and then stopped. His eyes burned into hers. “No. I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“Sorry.”

She caught one glimpse of his broad shoulders before he vanished like a ghost.

***

What the hell was wrong with him? Cody yanked off his belt as he walked into the house. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, dropping them as he went. He cranked the shower on cold and stepped inside. Even the freezing water didn’t stop the burn. He ran his hands through his hair. If he didn’t slow down, he would scare her off. What then? He’d waited nine years for this. Would he blow it now because his body longed for what he knew was his? He let his hand slide down his stomach, closed his eyes, and imagined Shay as he tried to ease the ache so he wouldn’t destroy his last chance.

***

Shay waited until Cody was out of sight before she left the tree house. For one thing, she didn’t want him to see how much her ankle hurt; for another, she needed another plan. This one wasn’t working. How could she even consider, or reconsider, marrying Jamie, when all she could think about was Cody? Instead of heading back to the house, Shay detoured off on another trail. The bushes were thicker, taking over in the absence of a human presence. The tiny cemetery was surrounded by a split-rail fence the boys built. All their pets were buried here, dogs, hamsters, and birds. There weren’t many weeds. The area was covered in pine needles and moss. She stepped inside and brushed her hand over a stone with the name Neo and a date scratched into the surface. The boys had held a funeral for the black lab. Afterwards, Shay had run away to the boathouse. Cody was the one who found her and held her while she sobbed.

How could she have walked away from this place, the people and the memories it held? With a sense of sadness, she went back to the house. A cat sat on the back porch watching her. It was huge, its fur white as snow, with eyes green as an emerald.

“Where did you come from?” It didn’t look like a stray. It was big enough to attack a grown man. “Go home, cat. I can’t even sort out my own life.” As if it understood her, the cat darted off the porch and into the woods.

Shay went inside and climbed back into bed, jeans and all. She dreamed of French toast. When she woke, Cody was stepping into the room carrying a tray.

“You made French toast,” she said, staring at the plate. “I thought I was dreaming.”

“Figured you were hungry after climbing that hill. Brunch might be a better welcome than…” his eyes flashed once, hard and dark, “than the one at the tree house.” He set the tray on the bed. “I’m sorry for… for whatever that was.”

Shay let him flounder for a minute, wondering if he hadn’t realized she’d had her tongue in his mouth too, but men let their chivalry run amok sometimes. “I guess we can chalk it up to old memories.”

He looked relieved. “I know you like French toast.” His brow flattened. “Do you still?”

“I love it,” she said, accepting the tray. “I didn’t think there was any bread in the kitchen.”

“I made it at the house.”

“I’m surprised you got past Lachlan.”

“He’s gone. He and Marcas had to get back to their assignments… uh, work.” Cody looked at the bed, but moved to the sofa. He leaned back, tapping his fingers on his thighs.

“Did you eat?”

“No. I wasn’t hungry.” He was watching the plate closely now.

“Changed your mind?”

His eyes lit. “If you feel like sharing.”

They used to share everything. Cody had thought nothing of snatching something from her plate, and vice versa, unless it was a brownie. Brownies were sacred. “I might be persuaded,” she said.

There was the flash in his eyes again, reminding her that they were a long way from kids. “I suppose I should share, since you made it.” She took a bite and moaned. “Maple syrup. Nina used to make French toast for me every Sunday morning.”

Cody gently moved her ankle aside so he could sit. “Not bad, eh?”

“You did good.” The breakfast tasted almost as good as Cody looked. What was wrong with her?

She cut a bite, but he reached out and grabbed the fork. He put the bite in his mouth, nodding as he chewed. “If the PI thing doesn’t work out, think I could become a cook?”

Women would pay Cody MacBain to deliver burnt toast. “I think I’ll need another meal before I decide.”

Between them, they finished six slices of French toast. Shay reached for the orange juice, but Cody had already raised it to his mouth. How easily they were slipping into old routines. Her gaze raked over him, mussed hair to booted feet, and every inch in between. These weren’t old times, the tree house proved that. Things were moving too fast. Going from hating him to… to what? Whatever it was, it scared the heck out of her. She felt her control slipping, felt the urge to sit back and let him take over. Shay had been taking care of herself far too long to let anyone take over.

“Let me check your ankle.” Cody lifted the covers and took her foot in his hand. He unwrapped the elastic bandage, his touch sending tingles through her leg. She’d had more tingles in her body the last twelve hours than she had in the last twelve months.

“Swelling is mostly down. You still need to take it easy for a day or so,” he said.

“I have to get groceries and some clothes. I’ll rest after that.”

“Maybe you can find some clothes in the attic. Nina never throws anything away. You look about the same size you were before.” He looked her over, his gaze slowing at her breasts.

“I think I took everything with me, but I’ll check. It’s hard to tell where my luggage will end up.” Shay moved the tray and slid out of bed.

“You shouldn’t be climbing those stairs. Your ankle will never heal.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for the French toast and for washing my clothes and loaning me your T-shirt and… stuff. I’ll wash them and give them back.”