Lord of the Isles: International Billionaires VIII: The Scots (24 page)

Yet, she had.

“Lilly.” Iain opened his eyes and stared at her, panic swirling in the blue. “Ye have to be on birth control.”

Something in his voice stirred latent anger deep inside. What did he mean by that? Did he think she went from a man’s bed to another’s without a thought other than to have some fun? Did he think she was that kind of girl?

Well, she had been that kind of girl.

Before him.

His hands went into the air in a gesture of horror. “You’re not?”

She wasn’t. Not at the moment.

Birth control hadn’t been an issue for so long in her life, she never thought about it. When she did have sex, she made sure the guy had protection and she made sure to take her pill every day. Thinking about birth control hadn’t even crossed her mind as she lay with Iain in the sun, because reality hadn’t been there. Reality had become submerged in her love for him.

That was kind of stupid. Kind of like her mom.

The thought made her throat tighten.

But she was right at the end of her cycle. She should be getting her period in the next week. Wouldn’t there also be some residual protection swimming in her system after taking pills for so many years? Hopefully?

“Jesus.” Those sky-blue eyes of his were nearly black with shock. “What the hell have I done to ye?”

The self-anger, the shouldering of all responsibility, was so typical of this man, Lilly almost laughed. Yet, this wasn’t a laughing situation, and she had to calm him down before he took a knife to his throat or went and bought another gun. “I’ve got it handled.”

“What?” His big body stilled. “What do ye mean by that?”

If she did get pregnant, she’d handle it. Not by getting an abortion. She knew with a sudden, deep instinct, she wouldn’t do that. She’d handle it by making a new life that centered on a baby. She was good at landing in a new situation and figuring it out.

She could handle this.

But he couldn’t.

Not at this time. One thing she wouldn’t do was place a new responsibility on this man who appeared tough and rugged, yet was in reality, still fragile and recovering.

If fate gave her a baby, she’d tell him. Eventually.

Right now, though, when the possibility was so slim, she didn’t need to rile him. He didn’t need to worry about this when he should be worrying about himself.

“I mean, there’s nothing to worry about.” By the look on his face, she could tell he wasn’t appeased, so she threw a distraction at him. “Unless I need to worry about any diseases.”

Storm clouds descended in his eyes. “Diseases? Are ye asking me if I’ve been dicking around with lots of other women?”

Inappropriate laughter welled in her throat again. But his outrage was adorable. Beyond the weight of his depression, once he recovered, this man was solid as the rock his castle stood on. She could tell by the way he glared at her because she’d suggested he slept around. By the way he tried to take care of her. By the way he worried himself into a frenzy every time he thought he’d done something wrong.

Maybe having a baby with Iain McPherson would be a good thing.

Maybe the baby would tie them together.

Maybe, Lil, you’re acting exactly like your mom did.

Before she let herself step into the fairy tale, she yanked her head out of the clouds. Right now, he needed to focus on himself. Not her. And certainly not a baby.

“Is that what you’re asking?” He marched toward her, a Royal Marine filled with heated indignation. “Is that what you’re implying?”

She’d distracted him. Good. Just to make sure, she threw some fuel on his fire. “You are really good looking.”

Stopping abruptly, his eyes widened. “What the hell does that have to do with it?”

“I would think it’s obvious. Women go after good-looking men.”

“Women.” He waved his hand at the empty beach, the clear sky, the deserted sea. “Do ye see any of them around here ready to jump my bones?”

He gave her another opening, another distraction. “There’s me.”

Making love again would be exactly the right thing to do to take this man off the scent. She only hoped the soldier in him had prepared and there were condoms lurking somewhere in his sanctuary. Because she accepted what had happened on his island, but taking another chance would be plain stupid.

She was not stupid like her mother. She was not.

His hands froze in the middle of another wave. Narrowing his eyes, he glared. “Was that a joke?”

“No. I’d love to jump your bones again.” She crossed her arms in front of her to stifle the urge to touch him. He needed to touch first this time. Something inside of her yearned for that. “Or perhaps you could jump mine.”

Dropping his hands, he stared at her, his mouth going slack. “I can’t keep up with ye,
donas
.”

“Sure you can.” Once he was well. Yet she didn’t know how long that would take. And she didn’t know if he’d want her by his side through the journey. So she’d take what she could get and look at each day as a gift. “Just let me know you’re disease-free, and we’ll go from there.”

He prowled toward her, lust filling his gaze. Yet those lush lashes of his didn’t go to half-mast and his mouth didn’t do sultry. He came at her as himself, with no disguises, and her heart sang with the knowledge.

“Come here.” Grabbing her, he tugged her into his embrace. Touching her first and making everything melt inside her.

“Mmm.” She snuggled in, letting his heat and strength envelop her.

“Listen to me, Lil.” He poked his finger on her chin, pushing her to meet his gaze. “I’m clean. I haven’t been with a woman in over a year and I had myself checked out at the hospital before leaving.”

“Okay,” she whispered, thinking of the scar on his thigh and hoping she’d have the chance to kiss it better.

“I’m a careful man.” His lips twisted. “Usually.”

There he went once more, trying to shoulder all the blame. She wouldn’t let him. “I’m clean too,” she rushed to cut him off. “I don’t take chances.”

“Except with me.” The muscles on his jaw tightened. “I’m at fault—”

Before he could be any more absurd, she reached up and wrenched his lips to hers.

He groaned and fought for two seconds until she stuck her tongue in his mouth and distracted him completely. The kiss went through her like a torch and she knew she’d find some way to keep this man and make him well at the same time.

There wouldn’t be a baby. That would be too much for both of them right now.

Fate wouldn’t be that unkind.

Not to him. Not to her.

Not to them.

“
I
think
we should go have supper with my dad.” Lilly sat in his leather chair, staring across at Iain lounging on the couch.

“Do ye?” His mild response gave her hope.

“Yes. We’ve been invited.” She’d been his lover for four days now. With condoms every time. And luckily, the subject of their first time hadn’t come up. If her calculations were correct, in about two or three days, she’d have a definitive answer and there’d be no worry for either of them. She hadn’t been really worrying, though, because she only wanted to enjoy. Four days of laughter and walking on their beach and taking canoe rides with picnics. Selfishly, she’d treasured this time with him and could have easily slipped into the life he offered without words.

Drifting in a sea of passion.

Forgetting everything except him.

Ignoring what he needed more than her.

Iain McPherson shouldn’t hide anymore. Although she loved the fact he’d chosen to hide with her, he was not coming to grips with his life and finding his purpose.

She was his lover, but she was also still his friend.

“You’ve been talking to your da, eh?”

“He said he’d cook for us tonight.”

His brawny shoulders shivered in mock dread, making her chuckle. She’d got more and more encouraged every day. He laughed more. His eyes gleamed with health. She caught him staring out at the window a time or two and when she’d asked, he said he was thinking.

Thinking was good.

Laughing was good.

She merely needed to give him a bit of a push. The next step, so to speak. “I’m going to call dad and tell him we’ll be there at six, okay?”

“Okay.” The word came smooth and calm and Lilly jumped from his leather chair in excitement. Ringing her delighted father and letting him know, she bustled into the bedroom, intent on dressing in more than jeans and a T-shirt for once.

“Are ye going to do some girly things?” Her lover came around the arch and leaned on the stone wall. “Can I watch?”

She glanced at him and decided to confess something she’d come to accept years ago. Yet she never could seem to squelch her mom’s lectures about being a lady. “I’m not much into girly stuff. Though I did like the girly stuff you bought me.”

“I know. Ye liked the soaps and lotions, but you’re not much into fancy dresses and lipsticks.” Sauntering over to where she stood, he eyed her meager clothes selection spread on the bed. “That’s one of the things I like about ye.”

“Really?” She cocked her head, a bit stunned. Most men liked when women got dressed up and made up.

“Aye. Really.” He swept a red sweater into his hands. “Wear this with some jeans. You’ll be fine for me.”

“Sometimes, I think I should be more than fine.”

“Do ye then.” He eyed her. “Why?”

“My mom.” She’d cut the thread of spoken demands and unspoken expectations years ago. But running through her were always the remnants of guilt for not being what was wanted. “She thinks I should be a lady.”

“A lady?” He threw his head back and guffawed.

That hurt. She slapped his bicep and tried to pretend his reaction didn’t sting. “Shut up.”

“Ah, now.” Before she stomped off to the bathroom, he roped her into his arms. “See here, lass.”

“I need to get ready.” She stood in his grasp, tight and withdrawn, and still hurt.

“Not right at the moment.” His finger came again and pushed her chin so he met her gaze. “I’m thinking I need to make something clear.”

“Go right ahead.” She narrowed her eyes, daring him to do more damage.

“You’re not a lady.” His finger edged along the line of her jaw. “You’re far more than that.”

“Far more?” Confusion brushed aside her irritation.

“Haven’t I been telling ye that all the time when I call ye
donas
?” His accent blurred the sudden impatience in his voice. “Don’t ye understand?”

“I guess not.” The tension in her body eased because she saw the clear affection and respect in his gaze. “Tell me.”

“Tell me,” he sing-songed. “Talk to me.”

“Iain.”

“Iain, she says.”

His teasing coaxed a reluctant humph from her.

He settled her into his arms before continuing. “A
donas
is wild.”

“Wild.” Puffing out a breath, she gave him a wary smile. “I don’t know if that’s good.”

“It’s very good.” One of his hands swept down to grab her butt and squeeze. “A
donas
is also powerful.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“As ye should.” He leaned in, his gaze direct and certain. “And more than anything, Lil…”

“Yes?”

“More than anything, a
donas
is a force.”

She crinkled her brow. “A force?”

“A force to be reckoned with.” His gaze flickered to her mouth. “A force that takes a man for her own and makes him whole.”

“Whole.” A shock of thrilled fear ran through her. Thrill at his clear intentions, fear at his belief in her. Could she do that for him? Just her, all by herself? She’d come here to help him and she had. Still, she’d always assumed she’d eventually steer him toward professional counseling. She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to risk Iain’s future happiness on her supposed prowess as a newly-minted
donas
. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Och.” He stroked her curls and tugged her into his chest, muffling her last words. “Ye can. Believe me.”

“Mffimgg.”

“I love when ye talk to me this way.” He chuckled, butting against her cheeks and mouth, filling her nostrils with his clean scent. “But I’m thinking ye should probably get dressed so I can eat some of your da’s good cooking.”

He eased his grip, and she popped her head up to meet his amused gaze.

“I don’t know—”

“Oops.” He pushed her back into his chest. “I’m thinking we might need to change the subject now and contemplate the wonders of the dinner that’s awaiting us at your da’s cottage.”

She couldn’t help herself. She laughed, a muffled sound against him. Her dad’s idea of a good meal would be slices of meat and cheese with some day-old bread. Thankfully, he knew himself well enough to partake of Mrs. Butler’s generosity. She had no doubt her dad was making a pilgrimage to the village store as they spoke.

His hand smoothed over her curls, a loving touch. “I’m wondering if we’re going to have
coq au vin
.”

Another of her chuckles escaped.

“Or perhaps my favorite, haggis.”

At the thought of him sitting down with her dad to eat a pudding composed of the liver, heart and lungs of a sheep, Lilly pushed away from him and rolled with laughter.

He grinned at her.

And there he was. The real Iain McPherson. The lad who’d shown her his secret stairs and given her this exact same grin. The man who should smile like this every day of his life, and would, if she had anything to say about it.

Perhaps she should let him believe she had all this power because if he did believe, it might make him listen to her as she pushed him into the world. Maybe she should trust fate and trust her ability to land on her feet and make sure he landed on his own.

“Are ye going to put on that red jumper?” he asked. “Because I’m hungry.”

His gaze told her he wasn’t hungry for only food.

He was hungry for her.

Lusting for her was great. She handled that just fine. Yet, believing in her ability to be there for him was trickier. She hadn’t been there for anyone in a long time. On purpose.

But for Iain, she wanted to be there.

She very much wanted to be the person he could rely on.

* * *

H
e hadn’t ever been
to Edward Graham’s cottage, but he knew the place as if he’d been there a thousand times. The stone had been quarried from the island granite over a hundred years ago, he’d bet. The dark thatched roof covered the traditional two-up, two-down layout. Though the windows sported freshly painted frames and the door was a stout new oak, the place exuded the history of his land and his people.

He felt uncomfortably at home here. As if his skin had been torn from him and now was layering back onto his blood and bones.

“Welcome.” Lilly’s father beamed when he opened the front door. “Come in, come in.”

Iain spotted the hero worship in the man’s eyes immediately.

Shite
.

He’d thought maybe this man, of all the villagers, would be aware of what Iain really was. He’d thought maybe Lilly had let her da know how wretched and broken the McPherson had become.

Apparently, she hadn’t.

“Hi, Dad.” She bounced into the house and gave her father a kiss on both cheeks, all smiles, all happiness. “Thanks for having us.”

As if this were a normal meeting. As if he’d come knocking at this man’s door throughout the last decade, ready to take the lass out for a drive or a spot of tea. As if he were a regular man, worthy of courting the daughter of the house.

He wasn’t. Not yet.

He had a lot of work to do.

“Come in, Iain,” the older man said with a genial smile. “You’re welcome here.”

The man should be looking him over with a distrustful eye before even opening the door. He should grab his daughter and lock her in a closet, far from the ravening beast who lusted for her day and night. If Edward Graham had a spark of knowledge about the true reality of Iain’s mental state, he’d have told his Lilly to stay away from the castle and the madman who inhabited it.

Her father waved him in.

He grabbed onto his marred courage and stepped out of the misty rain falling across his land. Into this quagmire of expectations, his
donas
by his side. Because at some point, if he wanted to keep her, he was going to have to win this man over showing his true colors, not by hiding behind the heroic stars in the man’s eyes.

“Dad.” Lilly patted her father’s arm exactly like she used to pat his own. Like a doggy. Perhaps he’d been a bit more upset by that action than he should have been. Maybe she did that to every man she knew.

He didn’t want to be just any man to her.

“Tell me what we’re having for dinner.” She cocked her head, her blonde curls fluttering around her face, making him want to touch and twirl her around his finger.

Her da wiggled his grey brows. “Oh, this and that.”

“Dad.”

“Let’s take a seat before ye start quizzing me about the food.” He waved them in and Iain found himself sitting by lovely Lilly on a brown-and-blue-checked sofa. The older man eased himself into a leather chair that looked much like his own would in about a decade or two.

He’d never courted a girl from any of his family’s islands. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been interested. But his title made him supremely self-conscious in every social situation.

That’s the Lord’s son, Coira.

He’ll be a lord someday too, ye know, Moire.

The family has pots and pots of money, Leslie.

Adding this to his innate shyness had made him a bumbling fool of a boy who’d been relieved, in some ways, to take off for Marine training at the age of seventeen.

The
donas
snuggled into his side, not perturbed her father sat right across from them.

He struggled to keep a flush from his face, feeling like he’d jumped back in time to being that bumbling boy once again.

“Did you go into Fingal, dad?”

“I did.” Edward Graham smiled. “Mrs. Butler had some nice scallops fresh from the sea Angus Hume brought in only today.”

The man flashed a look at him, discomfort crossing his face.

The fishing licenses.

Iain’s hands fisted in his lap. Guilt swam around in his gut, along with the ugly plan he’d hatched as the whiskey went down his throat and his soul descended deeper and deeper into his hell.

She coughed beside him, bringing her da’s attention back to her. “Don’t tell me that’s all we’re having.”

“Naw, naw.” Her father chuckled, completely diverted from him and his wretched treatment of his kingdom.

The sailors. The merchants. The villagers.

His people.

“Mrs. Butler gave me some Ayrshire tatties and there’s mushrooms and snap peas I’ll cook with the scallops.” Mr. Graham smiled at him. As if letting him know he didn’t mind that he was scheming to close Mrs. Butler’s shop down and that it was only by the grace of God old man Hume still roamed the seas.

But that was going to change. He’d been thinking when he wasn’t being entertained by a lush tush and a sassy mouth. He’d loved every minute with Lilly, but there’d still been times at night where he’d stared at the stone ceiling and put together his thoughts. There’d been moments of time to think things through as they paddled across to his island. He’d had a few minutes every day to log on to his computer and do some research.

Things were going to change.

His plans might not work, yet he was going to start implementing them.

He had to try if he had any chance of keeping her.

“Iain cooks.” Lilly plunked the words right into the middle of the compact room. The words bounced off the wood-paneled walls, rolled across the simple oak side table, landed in front of him like a piece of…