Haunted Warrior (30 page)

Kendra pressed a hand to her own heart. She could sense the life force of Grath’s every stone, the well-­deserved dignity of a place whose soul was, to her way of thinking, as alive and vital as in the time of the clans.

Just as she believed that the dead didn’t come back to life, but rather never stopped living, so did she believe places had feelings. They certainly held the emotions of the people who’d once loved and cared for them. And, she knew as well, the energies of those who may not have been as kind. No thought or deed ever really vanished. They remained imprinted on the past. And over time, they breathed life and memory into stone. Wind, rain, and moon glow also held reminisces. At least she liked to think so.

Not everyone agreed, and many would laugh at the notion.

But to those like her who sensed such things, visiting a site like Castle Grath was a beautiful and deeply moving experience.

There was just one problem.

Nothing but emptiness filled the large, arch-­topped window opening. Except, of course, the sweeping view of sea and sky. And—­she swallowed—­the all-­too-­delicious man who leaned against the arch’s soaring, cold-­stoned edge and was clearly expecting her to join him.

She wasn’t sure she could.

One, she knew the drop-­off would make her dizzy.

Two, she’d crossed a line climbing up here. Stepping any closer to Graeme right now would mean her ultimate doom. That she also knew, even as her feet started inching toward him, wholly without her consent.

She stopped at once. “I believe you. That the rock fell from here, on the other side of this tower, I mean.” She pushed back her hair when wind whipped the strands into her eyes. Strong, cold wind that smelled of the sea and almost knocked her into one of the window benches. She braced herself, sure another gust would sweep past any moment. Hopefully, Graeme hadn’t seen her sway.

The concern that flickered across his face said he had. “You’re not afraid, are you?” He held out a hand, encouraging her. “There’s a fine view of the seals from up here. You’d see old Bart basking on a rock, surrounded by his female admirers.”

“It is a long drop….” She put her hand in his even as she spoke, drawn to him as if by an invisible rope.

“I’ll hold you tight. No worries.” He gave her an easy smile, pulling her close to his side, unaware that he was sealing their fate.

“I’m okay, really.” At least she would be if her heart slowed and her pulse stopped hammering in her ears. “I would like to see the view.”

That was just the beginning. But she settled for leaning into him, letting him guide her a bit closer to the yawning gap that pretended to be a window.
Death trap
would’ve been an equally apt description. She could’ve thought of more, but Graeme’s grip on her proved too distracting. Big, strong, and warm, his hand softened the edges of her nerves, calming her. His arm around her did other things to her. Wonderful things that made it okay for him to guide her anywhere he wanted, even a huge window opening up to a steep drop.

“Look there, a bit to our right.” He nodded at the narrow ledge of grass and rock beneath the tower.

“Oh! I do see where the rock went down.” She did. And her breath caught as she stared at the fresh rip in the cliff’s edge. It was a semicircular gap about three feet
square that exposed the black, peaty earth and a torn tangle of grass and nettle roots.

“Aye, but do you see Bart?” He closed his arm tighter about her waist, and then stroked her hair back from her face and gently turned her head in the opposite direction. “There he is near the
Sea Wyfe
. You can see what a ladies’ man he is. There isn’t a female seal able to resist him.”

“I’m not surprised.” Kendra agreed, sure no bull seal could look more proud as the huge beast lifted his thick-­whiskered head, barking as ten or more females clamored around his rock, vying for his attention. “He’ll be quite the hero, having saved you from certain death.”

“Ach, well…” Graeme’s face clouded over for a moment and he stepped back from the window’s edge, drawing her with him. “At least we know Ramsay is taking our feud to new heights if he was willing to risk young Watt’s neck to get to me.

“But the magic he thinks he has at his disposal isn’t as powerful as he believes.” He released her, his expression still serious.

“He really does practice magic?”

“The darkest kind, aye.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sea, toward Pennard and—­Kendra knew—­the big house on the cliff above the harbor, where Ramsay apparently spent his time plotting Graeme’s demise. “At least he thinks he does.”

Looking back at her, he smiled again, his face clearing once more. “He’s not your problem, lass. You’ll be leaving here soon and will ne’er have to see the bastard again. As for me”—­he shrugged—­“I’ve dealt with him and his like for longer than I can remember. None of them have gotten the better of me yet, and I’m not about to let that change.”

“I’m sure you won’t.” Kendra turned her face into the
wind, hoping its chill would dash the heat that had sprung to her cheeks when he’d reminded her of her inevitable return to the States.

The thought hollowed her, stealing the sense of completeness that filled her here, in this special corner of the world and with Graeme at her side. She took a deep breath, knowing she had no right to feel as she did. The truth was she never enjoyed boarding the flight back across the Atlantic, and always wished she could stay on in Britain.

But this was the first time the prospect of going home made her feel ill.

Of course, she also hadn’t ever spent time in a cozy-­quaint fishing village in northern Scotland where—­her heart squeezed painfully—­the most remarkable man she’d ever met just happened to live.

She
had
fallen in love with him.

She even loved his dog.

Thinking about the two of them and Pennard, sent a whirlwind of images through her mind. The loud and crowded chaos of Newark Airport, quickly followed by traffic fumes and jammed highways, then a wall of monstrously tall gray buildings that blotted the sky and stole any views of what once would’ve been rich and verdant land.

No less unappealing was a rush of neon signs and billboards, boxy superstores surrounded by ocean-­sized parking lots, a car or SUV in every available space, empty shopping carts filling any unoccupied cranny. Kendra frowned, blinking several times to banish the unwanted reminders of just what awaited her when she left her Glasgow-­to-­Newark plane.

Too bad she couldn’t do the same to her ears. As if determined to plague her, they rang with the ever-­present buzz of a modern world as distant from Pennard
as the dark side of the moon, or maybe even Pluto. She fisted her hands, trying not to recall the horrid roar of leaf blowers or, much worse in recent times, the earth-­shaking drone of the dinosaurlike bucket trucks from the year-­long renovation work on her aged apartment building.

Then there were garbage trucks, jackhammers, and police or emergency sirens.

It was always something.

Pennard might have ghosts and Gavin Ramsay, but there
was
peace and quiet.

The soul-­balm kind she could use so badly.

Even the heavy-­metal rock music she’d heard pumping out of the Mermaid hadn’t been able to put more than a slight dent in the night’s tranquillity. Pennard was a place like no other. And she doubted a place quite so special existed anywhere else, even in Scotland.

She blinked again, for her eyes were beginning to burn. Then she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the clean, wet cold of the air. Something she shouldn’t have done, because she was instantly reminded of the stifling heat of a US summer. How she dreaded those searing days of glaring, fry-­your-­eyeballs sun that robbed one’s energy even in beautiful Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

She preferred mist and soft rain, moody gray skies and cold air. Peat smoke on autumn wind, the lilting tones of Scottish voices, the creaking of fishing boats in a small stone-­pier harbor, and—­her heart ached—­nights of black-­velvet skies with more stars than she’d ever before seen.

She wanted Scotland, and it was going to rip her in pieces to leave.

Especially knowing Graeme and Jock would remain behind, going on with their lives as if she’d never crossed their path. The thought made her throat ache and she
swallowed hard, sure she’d never be the same without them.

“You needn’t worry about Ramsay.” Graeme was at her side, clearly misunderstanding the reason she’d gone so still. His soft voice was low, full of concern, his breath warm on her cheek. “You’re safe so long as you’re here with me. I’ll no’ let him near you.”

Kendra looked him, her heart beating wildly. She could feel the brightness of her eyes, knew he’d seen the shimmer of tears.

“What is it?” He angled his head, studying her face. “If—­”

“It isn’t what you think.” She touched two fingers to his lips, silencing him. “It’s…”

She stepped back, letting her words trail away as she summoned courage. Then, before she could change her mind, she reached for the leather band tying his hair at his nape. She undid the knot with fingers she wished weren’t quite so shaky, freeing his long, black hair to spill loosely about his shoulders.

“It was this.” She lifted a handful of the thick, glossy strands, stunned by her boldness. “I wanted to see you with your hair unbound, looking fierce, wild, and so at home in this special place. Like”—­she forced herself to speak true, tried hard not to shiver in the chill sea air surrounding them—­“a proud Highland warrior of old.

“This place is so different from my world.” She let go of his hair, embarrassed now but unable to stem the words rushing from her heart. “And you—­you look so right here. As if you were meant to be of this time”—­she touched the cold, damp stone of the window edge, trailing her fingers down the side of an arch crafted centuries before her own country was born—­“here at Castle Grath when these walls were whole. I feel that about you so strongly.”

“Kendra…” He just looked at her, shook his head. “You have a romantic soul.”

“It’s more than that.” More than he’d like to hear.

Sure of it, she struggled against the emotions rising inside her, hoping he hadn’t caught any bitter undertones in her words. They were there, she knew. She could taste them still, like ash on her tongue.

But she so wished…

“I do have a passion for this place, lass.” He leaned against the window edge again, his gaze going past her to rest on the sea. Scattered clouds were beginning to show above the horizon, casting dark patches on the otherwise blue-­gleaming water. “You’re not far off in your thoughts, not at all. Truth is, I love this whole coast so much, there could never be anywhere else for me in all the world. I would never leave here, not for anything.

“And I shouldn’t be doing this.” He pushed away from the wall and took both her hands in his, lifting her fingers to his lips, kissing each one. “It’s been too long since I’ve—­” He broke off, his eyes darkening as he let go of her hands and took hold of her face, looking down at her in a way that sent heat rushing through her.

“I want you, lass.” He thrust his fingers in her hair, tipping back her head so she had to meet his gaze. “You do something to me I didn’t think I’d ever feel again. And perhaps I never did, no’ like this.” His eyes went even darker, his burr thickening. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you at Balmedie.”

“I’ve felt the same.” Kendra could hardly speak, her heart splitting.

He lowered his head and kissed her. And it was the deepest, most scorching kiss she’d ever had. Every bit as thrilling as his other kisses, but with a searing intimacy that shook her world.

This kiss counted.

There could be no mistake that he wanted to give her this one.

And oh, how she desired him, too.

He slid his hands down to her shoulders, not breaking the kiss. She brought her own hands up to grip his face, holding him so he couldn’t pull away from her. Not that there seemed any danger of that, because he still kissed her deeply, each tantalizing sweep of his tongue against hers taking her breath, almost intoxicating her. She leaned into him, reveling in his strong, hard body so close to hers, unable to get enough of him, aching for more.

“Precious lass, what have you done to me?” He pulled back to nuzzle her neck, nipping the soft skin beneath her ear, then inhaling deep, as if he wanted to fill his lungs with the scent of her.

She shivered, stroking her fingers through his unbound hair. She was half afraid she’d waken any moment to find herself in bed at the Laughing Gull. But his arms only tightened around her, much more substantial than a fantasy as he eased her back against the tower wall, his hips pressing against hers. The heat of his body warmed her through their clothes, making her tingle with awareness.

“I didn’t want this.” He grasped her face again, looking deep into her eyes. His own were darker than she’d ever seen, burning with passion. “I tried so hard, but the temptation was too strong. You’ve haunted my dreams. I’ve lain awake at night, aching for you.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve felt the same.” Her heart pounded in her ears and she pressed herself closer against him. “I still do.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say she
wanted
him. She had a strong feeling that’s where they were going. And if the swell in his pants was any indication, he already knew she wouldn’t say no.

“Then hear me well, lass”—­he kissed the top of her head, ran his hands down her shoulders and along her arms, lacing their fingers when he reached her hands—­“I’ll no’ be able to stop if I keep kissing you. Tell me now if—­”

“Don’t stop.” She squeezed his hands, then let go, slipping her own inside his jacket, placing them against his hard, muscled chest. “I know what will happen.”

“Kendra. You’re like no woman I’ve known.” He stroked the hair back from her face, lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, even more than that.” His voice deepened, the rich, honeyed tones turning her to liquid, making her tremble with need. “I wouldn’t hurt you, sweet. No’ for anything in the world.”