Lord of the Isles: International Billionaires VIII: The Scots (15 page)

“I joined the Marines because I wanted to.”

“Sure you did.” His cousin grunted. “It was all your idea.”

That wasn’t true, yet only a few people knew it. A few people being Donal and his aunt, who knew Iain had much rather have attended university and lost himself in books. “I wanted to make my da proud.”

The piercing blue eyes of his cousin welled with sudden tears.

“Jesus, Donny Boy.” He’d closed his eyes against all the emotion that always poured from his cousin. “Get a grip.”

“Listen to me.” Two rough, strong hands grabbed his shoulders and shook his eyes open. “Promise me.”

“What, lad?” He wanted done with this conversation. He didn’t do emotions now, not now in this war where he had to lead and protect. Emotions got a man's insides mixed up enough that he couldn’t operate. And that got people—his men—killed. “Spit it out and then let’s be done with this once and for all.”

“Promise me when you get home, you’ll do what’s best
for you
.” Donal’s gaze pierced his skull. “Promise me you’ll break free.”

That had been his cousin’s motto—be free. Donal had followed his own advice. He’d freely joined the Marines. He’d freely followed Iain. And he’d freely paid the ultimate price.

Because Iain had let emotion dictate his actions. Just once. But once had been enough. That thought brought a wave of nausea over him, enough to leave him gagging on the stone floor where his ancestors had ruled for hundreds of years.

Promise me
.

Before he lost himself completely, Iain pulled himself straight and stumbled through his hell and to the stairs leading to his sanctuary.

He needed to place an order.

For whiskey.

T
he castle’s
sturdy gate doors were closed. And locked.

Lilly made a face at them before turning toward the beach. He couldn’t keep her out. If he’d locked the back door, too, she’d start yelling until he’d have to let her in. She didn’t know what had set him off the last time, but she’d discover the cause eventually.

The storm had left a splattering of rotting logs and seaweed on the sand. Still, the sun shone, and the afternoon wind was calm, making a person think the dolster had been a figment of their imagination. She eyed the shed and was glad to see the doors were still closed. Apparently, he hadn’t found the hiding place and the storm hadn’t destroyed his property.

She kind of wished it had.

Shifting her backpack on her shoulder, she carefully placed her feet on one slippery stone step at a time. He’d been right, this could be dangerous. But not dangerous enough to stop her from getting at him.

She wouldn’t let him hide anymore.

The back door was closed. And locked.

“Crap.” For a moment, she laid her forehead on the wood and reconsidered. The man wanted to be left alone and perhaps she should just let him be. She could go and be with her dad. Enjoy his company for the rest of the month before blithely taking off on another assignment, every thought of Iain McPherson left behind.

Thoughts like what he was doing in his dreary castle all alone.

Thoughts like was he taking care of himself and not drinking whiskey.

Thoughts like what if he ever found where she’d hid his guns and then had another horrific nightmare.

The thoughts crowded in her mind, making her angry.

Her fist hit the hard wood. “Open this door,” she yelled.

A sullen silence was her response.

“Right now.”

The silence continued.

“I’m not leaving, Iain Arrogant McPherson.” She slammed the door again. “You might as well answer.”

Nothing.

Her usual sunny temper exploded. “I’ll ram a car right through the front gate if I have to, you stupid moron.”

The door whipped open so fast, she stumbled right into…him.

A completely naked him.

All her senses blasted at her at once. Her nose gave her his piney scent. Her eyes gave her the beauty of the lace of his dark chest hair on his white skin. Her body gave her his heat, his power.

Lilly couldn’t help humming deep in her throat.

“What did ye say?” He took a breath in and the sight of his broad chest moving, the muscles flexing, drove her witless. Before she drooled, she forced her dazed eyes to focus on something else.

His nicked hands. Where he held an open whiskey bottle.

Her lapsed anger zipped past her lust, bubbling to boiling. “Hell no.”

Before he had a chance to do anything else, she grabbed the offensive bottle from his hand and flung it down the steps she’d just climbed. The crack of the glass shattering on stone echoed onto the beach.

“I didn’t know ye had such a temper,” he said, his voice mild as if they were talking about the weather. “I’d have barricaded the castle walls with a bit more stone if I’d known.”

“You.” Jerking around to face him again, she punched a finger right in the center of his hairy chest. “You promised.”

His white skin went pale as if she’d accused him of murder.

She wasn’t in the mood to soften her attack, even though her heart immediately hurt with his pain. “You promised not to order whiskey.”

“I didn’t think ye were coming back.” He swung around, his naked ass in full display making the air hitch in her throat. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“I care, buster.” She stepped into the foyer and slammed the wooden door behind her. “I hope you didn’t buy a lot because it’s all going down the drain.”

He lifted one broad shoulder in a singular shrug and didn’t say a word as he marched up the stairs.

Man, that ass.

A woman could get very hooked on looking at and stroking and feeling that fine ass.

Friends, Lil.
Friends.

The sound of a piano prelude trickled from the top of the stairs. Some sad, forlorn tune. Rachmaninov, if she had to guess. “Turn that music off.”

His glorious ass bunched and then went smooth as he took another step. “Ordering me about already?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t listen to that kind of music.” Tearing herself away from temptation, she purposefully ran her gaze down his thighs.

And saw his scars.

“Iain,” she gasped. “Your leg.”

He stopped mid-step, his body freezing.

“What happened?” She raced up the stairs, all thoughts of lust and anger disappearing in a mist of concern.

Before she could get to him, he swung back and grabbed her outreached hand in a stiff, hard grip. His gaze brewed with a dark tempest. “Don’t touch.”

“Did this happen when you were with the Marines?” She thought about glancing down once more, but his thighs were a bit too near another piece of his anatomy that seemed too personal to stare at. Although she wanted to.

“Yes.” His hand tightened on hers.

“Do you still hurt?”

“No.”

Those blue eyes of his said something else.

“You do still hurt,” she said with conviction.

“I said no.”

Her fingers felt like he was crushing them into dust. “Iain,” she whispered. “You’re hurting me, too.”

His eyes widened, and with relief, she saw they were clear. He didn’t stink of booze, either. She’d gotten here in time to save him. Throwing her hand away, exactly as he had outside his front door, he began to march up the stone stairs once more.

Lilly ignored his rejection because she knew it was because he hurt. She let herself look at the scars again.

There was one long gash that appeared to start at the top of his inner left thigh and ran down to the back of his knee. Another gash crisscrossed the other one, the redness of his puckered skin making her heart bleed with compassion. “Oh, Iain.”

“Don’t fash yourself.” He threw the words over his shoulder like he could barely be bothered to talk about it. “They’re healed.”

But he wasn’t.

“They must pain you.” She sidled up the stairs behind him. “I’ll give you another massage.”

Stopping once more, he swung around, his half-mast eyes telling her what was on his mind. “A naked massage this time, lovely Lilly?”

Keeping her focus on his sultry smile instead of what surely swung right in front of her, she gave him a jaunty grin. “Let’s get rid of the whiskey you ordered, first.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll talk.”

He gave her a snarl of disgust before twisting back to stomp up the rest of the stairs.

Man, that ass.

Which begged the question… “Why are you naked?”

“I was about to get in the shower when ye started banging at my door.” He got to the arch leading into his den and gave her a look over his shoulder, his lashes concealing his gaze.

Still in full camouflage, but at least he’d let her in.

“With a whiskey bottle?”

“Seemed like the thing to do at the time.” Those eyes of his gleamed with wicked provocation. “Would ye like to join me, instead?”

Yep. The man had his armor on again and she wondered if it was because she’d mentioned his family by the castle’s front doors. Or maybe it had been the painful tour through his home? Whatever had made him withdraw behind his drawbridge, she was determined to get back to where they’d been. “Why don’t I go see what you ordered while you get clean.”

“Then, I suppose, you’ll want me to come clean too.” A wary look crossed his face.

“Plenty of time for that.” She waved his god-like nakedness away because his presence made her dizzy with lust. “Go on and take your shower.”

Grumbling, he took his naked perfection into the bathroom.

Taking in a deep breath of air that thankfully no longer swirled with pine soap and male allure, Lilly walked into the den and slid her backpack off, plopping it on the floor. She glanced around before unzipping her windbreaker and tugging it off. Everything looked normal, the same as when she’d left this morning.

She eased into the kitchen to find another reality.

A dozen cardboard boxes were stacked to the ceiling by the window. Another dozen had landed on the cedar island and several more stood by the side of the plain wooden table.

“Is the man planning on surviving the apocalypse?” she muttered.

The shower went on.

Shaking off her vivid imagination’s immediate reaction, she focused on the bounty before her. She couldn’t believe how fast he’d got this ordered and delivered. He must have paid a small fortune to get this here in one day.

Right then, she spotted the open box of whiskey. “Not a chance, McPherson.”

There weren’t as many bottles to empty as the last time, which she decided to take as a good sign. Even though the man had broken his promise.

Her accusation had made him turn white. What was that all about?

They had so much to talk through.

The shower went off.

Her irritating imagination leapt to life once more and she had to slap it down with a hard plunk. She’d thought this through as she’d packed her bag to come back here. They were both healthy, and it was natural there’d be some animal lust between them. But she was determined to keep that controlled. The fact she’d been confronted by His Nakedness straight away didn’t change the circumstances.

Iain McPherson needed a friend.

And Lilly Graham was going to be that person for him.

“Did ye find your stuff?” His accented voice came from the kitchen arch.

Glancing over, she scowled at the sight of him. “Go put a shirt on.”

“Why?” He shrugged those broad, naked shoulders and sauntered to the island, his jeans sagging, half-buttoned. “Do I bother ye?”

He wanted her to say yes, she could see it in his sultry gaze. “I’m worried you might catch a cold.”

His laugh was still deep and dark, yet there was a husky tinge to it that gave her hope. “If I’m going to catch something, it won’t be a cold.”

His gaze told her he meant to catch her, which she couldn’t let happen. Sex would only confuse their relationship, and he needed her now as a support system. Grasping on to his original question, she stared at the boxes. “What do you mean, find my stuff?”

“Some things I thought ye might need.”

“Things. You bought me things?” She folded her arms to cover her instantly trembling, touched heart. “You said you didn’t think I was coming back.”

His expression went stony. “Don’t think I wanted ye to.”

“Right.” The man was too adorable and too obviously lying. “But just in case, you ordered me some stuff.”

“Girly stuff.” He shrugged again, the muscles of his biceps rolling under his porcelain skin, a wave of male appeal. “Nothing much.”

The first box held a mountain of manly food. Various cuts of Angus beef, pork chops, ham hocks, and a mound of potatoes.

“This should keep us fed for a while,” she murmured.

A grunt was all she got.

The second box held toiletries for him. There were double-edged razors, bottles of shaving cream, and baby powder. Picking up a paper-covered square of something, Lilly immediately knew what it was by the scent. “Your soap.”

He gave her another grunt.

“It’s oddly packaged.” The paper was coarse, almost woven.

“It comes from Turkey.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide as she stared at the bar. “There’s no way you could pay enough money to get this shipped from Turkey in one day.”

He gave out a gruff laugh. “Naw. I order enough of it they stock it for me in Glasgow.”

“Why?”

“I found it on one of my tours and I liked it.”

She sniffed the square and knew for sure. The scent of pine was strong. “It’s just soap.”

“Nothing of value is
just
.” He moved restlessly away from the island to stand by the fireplace. “That soap is handcrafted and has olive oil in it.”

“Oil?” She scrunched her face and gave him a puzzled look.

“It’s a moisturizer.” His eyes went to half-mast once more. “Maybe we can both go into the shower, and I’ll show ye how nice the soap is.”

“You took a shower a few minutes ago so I don’t think you need another one.”

“I’d be glad to take another one if you’re in there.”

The armor again. Why did he feel as if he had to protect himself, when all they were talking about was his soap? She stared at the soap, hoping it would tell her the secret, but it merely sat in her hand. Only soap. She hadn’t used it in the shower, deciding to stick with the simple bottle of shampoo, letting the suds slide down her skin. It wasn’t that the smell was too manly, it was just too him. Her instinct told her that putting his scent on her would take her one step closer to jumping him.

She glanced at him once more to find he’d taken a nonchalant stance, as if her inspecting his soap had no impact on him. One naked shoulder leaned on the stone wall, while his brawny arms were folded in front of him, as if in protection for her response to whatever he’d bought her.

Her usual curiosity piqued.

“What box has my stuff?” She fluttered her fingers at the stacks.

“I don’t know,” he huffed. “There are probably several.”

As a child, she’d always loved Christmas the best. Not only because her mother and stepfather would make an effort to get along, but because she lived for surprises. Christmas morning was all about surprises. She felt like a child at this moment. A child who’d been presented with a pile of presents by one very surly, sexy Santa.

“Several?”

He pursed his lips, not willing to give her anything more. Yet, he’d already given her so much.

He’d given her his blush.

He’d given her the beginnings of his trust.

And now, he’d given her gifts.

Tearing into the boxes, she found more food—fresh herbs and greens and a whole box of canned goods. She found a box filled with toilet paper and another with cleaning supplies. Ripping open another box, she spied an entire crate of peaches. “There are enough peaches here to feed an army.”

He made a low, amused sound in his throat.