Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee (9 page)

A streak of black flew across her vision, drawing her attention. My Love appeared from the brush and sat watching her from a safe distance.

Seana frowned at the sight of the cat.

“Go away,” she grumbled. “Go back to where you came from, ye ungrateful beast!”

My Love mewed at her, the sound a heartfelt grievance, and simply stared with yellow eyes that glimmered in the twilight of the forest.

Seana refused to acknowledge her further. Let her stay where she sat. If the bloody cat did not like her, well and good! The feeling was mutual! She had more important things to worry about just now.

Like winning Broc’s attention.

Seana had no notion how to accomplish it now if Colin would not help her.

Did one simply walk up and pledge one’s love? Or did one bat one’s eyes until they went daft or blind and her lashes fell out?

What was the best way to gain a man’s favor?

Would he think her silly if she preened before him? Or would he never notice her if she did not?

Was the way to his heart through his belly? Or mayhap she should simply get him drunk with her father’s spirits and drag him before an altar…

The thought made her chuckle.

Like she could drag the gentle giant anywhere. Och, but if she had less conscience she might just get him drunk and lay with him and play upon his sense of honor. But she could not.

Unfortunately, neither did she have the first inkling how to proceed from here. She had no one to ask such things—and she had no peers to watch them woo each other. She was completely at a loss as to what to do.

But Colin Mac Brodie knew.

Wretched man.

He knew Broc and he certainly knew about women. She ought to hound him wherever he went and spy upon his every conquest—he was certain to make at least one a day!

My Love sat before her, as though taunting her, watching through canny golden eyes, and Seana’s attention returned to the rotten beast. Her black fur seemed so soft, shining even at this distance. Despite Seana’s professed dislike for the animal and My Love’s skittishness toward her, she moved toward the cat, slowly, intending to pet it. Surely if it came to see her so oft, it
must
have some small affection for her?

She got as far as halfway before My Love mewed a protest and darted away into the brush. Seana muttered an oath beneath her breath, and sighed.

“Brat cat!” she called after it.

Sad case it was, she thought, when not even the bloody cat wanted her company!

She sat and pouted.

She was
not
going to spend the rest of her life alone, by God! Her da would not live forever—he was hardly a healthy man—and while she certainly enjoyed her solitude, she craved a human touch. Companionship. She was not going to give up on Broc!

She couldn’t walk away so easily.

Colin had refused her once. What was the worst he could do, but refuse her again?

Persistence was the key to success, was it not?

That’s what her father had said when he’d worked to perfect his recipe—even after his first attempts had choked the breath from him and left him sputtering flames.

Aye, she decided, and resolved to try again. Even Colin Mac Brodie was not made of stone. He was flesh and blood and had a heart that beat within that oversized chest of his. Seana intended to appeal to it.

“Please!” she beseeched him.

By God, Colin wasn’t made of stone!

He was flesh and blood man, with a man’s desires, and unlike his brother Gavin, he had no aspirations to sainthood.

The brazen wench stood before him now, completely oblivious to the temptation she offered. She’d barged in upon his bath, demanding to speak with him, and Colin hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise to warn her of his present mood.

He was hungry.

Ravenous.

Despite who she was, or what she claimed to want from him, he was aroused by her… unlike he’d ever been before in his life. Whether it was her aloofness toward him that fired him, he couldn’t say, but he was hard as stone beneath the water’s surface.

She wasn’t helping matters in the least, sitting there upon the bank, talking to him as though he were some sort of virginal priest. He was grateful for the water’s depth, lest she spy his reaction to the sight of those beautiful slim legs.

Damned if those weren’t the most luscious legs he had ever beheld upon a woman—much less for one who had once been lame—long and lean and strong. He could see the muscles ripple in them as she stretched them out before her. How she had managed such a feat, was beyond him, but his eyes did not lie.

He swallowed convulsively at the view she unwittingly gave him, and his heart began to pound.

“Please, Colin!”

Colin winced at the impassioned tone of her voice. “I’ll give ye anythin’!” she swore, and he clenched his jaw to keep from blurting out the payment he wanted from her.

That delectable body.

She didn’t want anything to do with him, he reminded himself, and that fact gnawed at his gut.

Why should he care, when he could have most any woman he chose?

Because he wanted her,
a little demon nagged.

It was his just reward, some would say, that she wanted his best friend, and not him. He didn’t deserve her after the way he had treated her all those years ago.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Colin persisted, and tried to force his gaze away from the sweet feast that lay between her slightly parted legs. Och, did her ma never teach her to sit like a gentle woman should? Didn’t she realize she was driving him insane with lust? Didn’t she understand that she was making him so starved for the sweet feast between her thighs that even his guilt could not ward his hunger away?

He took a deep breath and peered up at the bright blue sky, trying not to look at her. The sun beat down upon his bare shoulders, drying the rivulets of water that dripped from his wet hair. The sensation of water sliding down his back made him think of her… fingers—he didn’t dare think of her tongue… damp and soft sliding the length of his back. He swallowed hard, shuddering as he met her gaze.

Sweet green eyes met his hungry blue ones. “I’m not too proud to beg,” she warned. “Not when ’tis something so important as this! I beg of ye, Colin Mac Brodie!”

Colin frowned at her.

She had turned from bartering to begging now, and she did it all too well. As she had all those years ago, her heart was plain to see in that expression she wore like a martyr at her crucifixion. It was a look that offered forgiveness all the while pleading, and was still somehow filled with far too much pride.

How could he turn her away? How could he refuse her?

Would he even think to refuse her were she someone other than who she was?

Aye, he would, he decided, because Broc was his friend, and he wasn’t about to scheme with her to trap him—even if Broc were better off with a flesh and blood woman in his bed, rather than that flea-bitten mongrel.

But more than anything else… because he wanted her for himself.

“
You owe me
, Colin Mac Brodie!” she blurted, lifting up a small rock and tossing it into the water at him, far from where he stood, but still…

Colin met her glittering gaze, vivid green and fueled with something more than pride. “You owe me,” she repeated, stomping a foot before her. The furious gesture tossed up her skirt just a bit higher, giving him a clearer view of the prize she would offer his best friend, “and I’ll not be taking no for an answer!”

Impudent wench.

He was torn in that instant by a sincere desire to help her, guilt over the past, and a lust so intense he could feel it stir his loins, despite the fierceness of her glare.

Were he not so annoyed by her bold words, he might have laughed his fool head off in sheer joy over the challenge she presented him.

When was the last time he had felt so buoyed by the mere sight of a woman?

When was the last time he had felt his blood simmer even under the heat of anger?

And when the bloody hell had he ever been so wholly dismissed by a woman in favor of someone else?

Never.

And it damned well provoked him.

He wanted to kiss her, damn it—wanted to see for himself if those lips were as soft and sweet as they appeared. He started out of the loch, moving toward her with purpose.

He narrowed his gaze at her. “I owe ye aught at all,” he assured her, deciding upon a bargain. “But I’ll tell you, what…”

The anger in her expression fled at once at his hesitation, and was replaced with a look of such sheer hope that Colin wanted to smile. He didn’t dare, however, because he didn’t want her to think he was the least bit willing in this. She and his conscience were dragging him kicking and screaming all the way.

Her expression grew wary at his approach, and warier still the nearer he came, but he didn’t waver. He waded through the shallow water with purpose, never releasing her gaze. He had been about to say that he’d take her to his sister, that Meghan would help her, because he could not, but the words that came out of his mouth surprised even him.

“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.

She stilled, peering at him as though she didn’t quite believe her ears. Her face screwed with what seemed to be confusion, and mayhap a little aversion, when she decided she had, in fact, heard him aright. “A kiss?”

“A kiss,” Colin affirmed. “A simple kiss.”

She sat dumbfounded, watching his approach. He swam toward her, and she cocked her head at him as he lifted his head once more, looking beautifully bewildered still.

“I dinna want your spirits,” he declared, suddenly resolved in his decision. “You can keep the recipe. A kiss is all I want for my payment, or we have no bargain at all!”

If she truly loved Broc, he would know by her kiss. A woman’s mouth did not lie, nor did the beat of her heart beneath his hand. And if she did not love Broc… well, he would know it.

And he would spare her no mercy.

She shrugged, and seemed momentarily unable to speak. She blinked then and said after an instant more, “Verra well… a… a kiss…”

“To seal the bargain,” he assured her, and propelled himself toward the bank with new purpose.

She sat upon the grass, watching him still.

He rose up out of the water suddenly, standing in the shallows in all his full glory.

She gave a little startled cry.

Colin smiled at her reaction.

She leapt up at once, eyes wide. “Sweet mother of Jesus, I have to go!” she declared. “I forgot something verra verra important!” She turned to go, but not before taking another long flustered glance in his direction.

Colin couldn’t help himself. He grinned. “What about my kiss?” he asked shamelessly, and made no move to cover himself.

She stopped and turned to him, but took great pains not to look below his shoulders this time. “Och,” she exclaimed, “well… I… I would you see… but I have to… I have to—check the
uisge
! Yes, that’s right!” she declared, and nodded vigorously. She turned and fled, calling out as she ran, “I’ll kiss you next time! Have to go! Bye!”

Colin watched her go, and his grin turned as wicked as his thoughts as she disappeared into the forest.

He chuckled, quite satisfied.

So… she wasn’t so immune to him as she would like to think, and the discovery pleased him immensely.

Seana didn’t stop running until she reached the clearing near the ancient cairn where she and her da made their home.

Out of breath now, she leaned against a fallen pillar, panting softly.

These hills were spattered with the remnants of their ancestors, and their presence was tangible in the almost magical beauty of the land of her birth. Here, hidden in the deepest heart of the highlands, Seana could almost feel their spirits. She could almost believe in their magic. She could almost see them dancing in the blanket of mist that fell with night.

Though she had made her bed upon the soil they’d trod, she had never bemoaned their lack, for she felt rich in spirit. That she had no pillow to lay her head upon, had never been her lament. The scent of sweet loam had lulled her to sleep, and the breeze on summer nights had soothed the worries from her brow. Somehow, it had been a reminder that she was only a small part of something far greater than she.

But now… she did lament the lack of pillow for their heads, and feared the night. Because she loved her da.

He was all she had in this world.

Her gaze narrowed as she stared down at her bare feet.

Colin Mac Brodie was a shameless rogue! But she knew that.

She couldn’t quite say for certain but she thought perhaps he’d been laughing at her as she’d fled. It brought back that terrible memory but she hadn’t been able to help herself. She had panicked at the sight of him—standing there so bare!

His simple kiss to seal their bargain had seemed no great price to pay… until suddenly he had started toward her. Her heart had begun to pound and the next thing she had known she was flying away—once again running to escape him, and the reason hardly seemed to matter at the moment. His laughter had echoed in her brain, and she hadn’t been able to tell in that instant of hysteria whether it had been the laughter of the boy or that of the man.