My Tempting Highlander (Highland Hearts #3) (8 page)

Ronan wrinkled his nose against the almost overpowering scent of roses. The room reeked with the cloying sweet smell of the flowers in full bloom. And no wonder. Every flat surface large enough to hold a vase had been festooned with multicolored clusters of the aromatic flower.

“Come. Come.” Eliza waved him forward from a doorway at the opposite end of the room. “This is my personal sitting room. I doubt ye’ll wish to tarry here overly long.”

Ronan glanced around. The woman had the right of it there. He sincerely doubted if any of the delicate white furniture—chairs and curved settees all trimmed in gilt and upholstered with even more scenes of multicolored roses—could stand the full weight of him. The room reminded him a great deal of the gaudy abode of the woman that Graham had enlisted to assist with his
initiation
when he’d first shifted from wolf to man.

With another wave of her bejeweled hand, Eliza ushered him into the next room.
Och now. This is more like it.
Ronan took in a deep breath and the tightness stinging across his shoulders disappeared. Leather. Whisky. The faint smoke of a well-tended fire. This room opened and embraced him like an old familiar friend.

Dark wood paneling reflected the soothing warm glow of the flames dancing in the hearth. A massive wingback chair upholstered with a leather hide tanned to a rich burgundy sat beside a mahogany arm table holding a glass and a cut-crystal decanter full of an amber liquid that Ronan hoped like hell was whisky.

“Aye, m’chieftain. ’Tis the finest MacKenna whisky. Gray and Trulie’s descendants have quite the successful distillery in this time.” Eliza deftly removed the sparkling top of the decanter and splashed a generous portion into the glass. “Here ye be. This’ll warm ye a damn sight better than that bit of Mairi’s tea.”

“I thank ye.” Ronan accepted the glass with a polite nod then closed his eyes and enjoyed a healthy sip. The welcome burn seared down to his core then spread its healing warmth through his body.
Aye. Much better than the nasty tea.

Eliza toddled across the rich burgundy carpet to the massive mahogany sideboard situated in the corner between two floor-to-ceiling bookcases stuffed full with leather-bound volumes. She pulled a small wide-bellied glass from the cabinet and filled it with a ruby-colored liquid. She took a sip, smacked her lips together appreciatively, then finished topping off her glass. “I prefer port m’self. I never acquired a taste for the whisky.”

Ronan got the distinct feeling Eliza was working up to a speech. “Out with it, woman. I would ken yer thoughts.”

Eliza stared down at the glass cupped in her hand, slowly swirling the ruby liquid as she meandered closer to the center of the room. “If ye move too fast with Mairi…if yer no’ honest wi’ the lass…ye will regret it.”

“Are ye threatenin’ me, then?” Ronan downed the rest of the whisky, savoring the burn as he refilled the glass. “Ye ken she is the one I mean to marry. She is the one to break the curse.”

“I ken it well enough.” Eliza huffed out the words as though totally disgusted with Ronan’s insinuations. “I also
ken
that Mairi is a woman of this time. She’ll no’ blindly accept ye, marry ye, and then be perfectly content to toddle off and be an obedient Highland wife to a man she’s just met.”

Ronan rubbed a knuckle against his breastbone. Damned if the woman had no’ voiced his silent fears. “How long must I woo her? Help me t’know how best I should go about this.” Surely Mistress Eliza would keep him from failing. Mother Sinclair would no’ have enlisted her help otherwise.

“How long must ye woo her?” Eliza looked at him as though he’d sprouted a second head. “May the gods help us. Yer worse than I’d feared.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Ronan emptied his glass again then thumped it to the table.

Eliza shook her head and huffed out a weary sigh. “A man should woo the woman he loves until she goes to the grave.” She balanced the round-bottomed glass atop the small table beside a door matching the dark wood paneling so closely, it nearly made it invisible. As she rested her hand on the door’s brass latch, she turned and pointed a finger at his chest. “If men would woo their wives as they should, they’d no’ be needin’ the likes of me to keep the excitement in their bedchamber. Their wives would keep them heated good and proper and so weary from mussin’ the sheets, they’d no’ have the strength to stray.” She pushed the door open and waved him forward. “Come. I’ll show ye how to use the facilities so ye dinna run the risk of scaldin’ the hide off yer arse.”

“I’d never stray from Mairi. I’ve never met another like her. She makes me feel…” Ronan swallowed hard. “I’m an honorable man. I’d never stray.” Ronan strode after Eliza, straining to make out what she was muttering under her breath. How the hell could he make the woman understand that Mairi soothed his soul? And how dare she insinuate he’d treat Mairi in such a callous way?

“Then woo her and see to it that she’s so smitten with ye she canna imagine takin’ a breath without ye.” Eliza pointed to an elaborate hollow of gold-striated marble built into the floor. “It takes a fair bit to fill the bath. Go ahead and twist all the knobs to start the water flowing.”

“Knobs?” Ronan peered from one end of the tub to another, searching for what might be considered a knob.
Damnation, the great stone hole is big as a small loch
. Golden pipes curved downward from three sides of the huge gleaming box of marble. At one end, the side of the tub sloped backward. The seat built into that side was wide enough to comfortably hold two bathers reclining back in the water.

“Knobs,” Eliza repeated as she nodded to an inset panel on the wall beside the tub. “The three to the right give ye the cold water to each of the faucets. The left side gives ye water hot enough to boil yer arse. Turn all the knobs then test the water to see if it’s to yer liking.”

Ronan frowned at the panel then twisted the three sets of knobs on the left until they’d turn no more. Water gushed from all three of the golden pipes pointed down into the tub and soon steam was rising.

“Ye best add some cold to the lot and test it like I told ye.” With an impatient huff, Eliza nudged him out of the way, twisted all three knobs on the right, then pointed down at the water. “Try it now.”

Ronan knelt and slid his hand beneath the streaming water.
Intriguing.
“Aye. ’Tis quite pleasant.”

“Ye’ll find soap, sponges, and washing towels on the shelf inset on the other side.” Eliza pointed to the far wall above the tub filled with all the articles she’d mentioned and quite a few more containers of colored oils and jars. “While ye soak, I want ye to think about what I told ye about earning Mairi’s trust and winnin’ her heart. I’ve put a change of clothes for ye in the wardrobe beside the bed. Breakfast at sunrise. Dinna be late comin’ down or ye’ll no’ eat again ’til the midday meal.”

Ronan glanced down at the rising level of the steaming water in the tub. “And what about tonight? Have ye a bit of bread? I’ve no’ eaten in two days.” The whisky had done a fine job of tricking his stomach for a bit, but ’twould no’ last long.

A wicked smile curled Eliza’s mouth as she backed her way out the door and slowly pulled it behind her. “Mairi will bring ye yer supper.” She paused and gave him a stern look before closing the door completely. “Mind what I said. Woo her. Win her.” Before Ronan could comment, Eliza firmly closed the door with a sharp click.

The intercom beside the light switch crackled and popped as though clearing its throat. The red light flashed above the button, bidding Mairi push it and activate the speaker. Mairi tightened the towel around her wet hair and coiled it to her crown. She pushed the button and leaned as close as she could get to the ancient apparatus that only worked about half the time. “Hello?”

Eliza’s voice blipped in and out from the yellowed plastic box. The only two words Mairi could make out were “dinner” and “guest.” She jammed her thumb harder against the button and put her mouth closer to the speaker. “You’re not coming through, Eliza. Just hold on. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

“Aye, well and good,” came through the speaker loud and clear.

Mairi donned her favorite pair of jeans, slipped a sweatshirt over her head, and scrubbed her fingers through her damp curly hair. There was no use bothering to blow out the wicked stuff. It tended to be a bit tamer when it dried on its own. Long, thick, and full of stubborn curls, it would take her a month of Sundays to get it dry with a hair dryer and a brush.

She flipped off the light and padded into the bedroom. A telltale warm dampness soaked into the bottom of her right socked foot. “Ugh!” Mairi hopped to one side, peeling the wet sock off her foot as she moved. “You’re supposed to pee on the papers.”

The gray fluff ball bounced from side to side, yipping happily at the new game of jumping to grab at Mairi’s dangling sock.

“No. no.” Mairi scooped up the little dog and plopped it in the middle of the bed. “And if you pee on my bed, you’re going to the garage.”

The puppy yipped then charged forward with a growl and latched onto the silky tassel dangling from the corner of a decorative pillow. He whipped his little head back and forth, tugging and rumbling with ferocity at the worthy adversary. The oversize pillow barely shifted as he yanked from side to side.

Keeping an eye on the bouncing little dog, Mairi fished a clean pair of socks out of the drawer, put them on her feet, then slipped on her worn tennis shoes before she happened across any more warm wet surprises. She scooped up the dog and cleaned the puddle of pee with a puppy pad then placed the puppy in the center of the large square of papers she’d spread in one corner for just that purpose. “You see that? That is your temporary toilet until you’re fully housebroken to only go potty outside. Don’t leave me any more presents.”

The dog yipped and lunged upward. His needlelike teeth pinched her chin.

“Don’t bite!” Mairi scolded while rubbing the back of her hand against her stinging chin. The puppy yipped and stretched to bite her fingers. “Damn, you’re mean.” She firmly tucked the little dog under one arm and headed downstairs. Ronan needed to take care of this little demon. After all, he was the one who found him. She rounded the last step and bounced into the kitchen. Disappointment dampened her spirits when she realized Lilia and Eliza were the only two in the room. “Is Ronan not going to eat dinner with us?”

Eliza didn’t turn from the stove, just kept slowly stirring the ladle while peering down into the pot. “Our guest will be eating in his room this evening.”

“Oh.” A strange sense of disappointment washed across her as she shoved the puppy into Lilia’s arms. “Here’s the dog you’ve always wanted.” She went to the sink to wash her hands, cocking an ear in Lilia’s direction in anticipation of the little buzz saw sinking his fangs into Lilia.

“What a sweetie!” Lilia cooed, and murmured some unintelligible gibberish into the face of the furry little pup. The dog immediately rewarded her with an overload of doggie kisses, happily wiggling his entire body in her arms.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Mairi leaned back against the sink, drying her hands with the towel. “Apparently, you’re the only one he really likes.” Mairi snapped out the wrinkles from the damp towel and hung it beside the sink. “And why is Ronan eating in his room?” She leaned over the bubbling pot Eliza was stirring and inhaled. The mouthwatering aroma of tomato, basil, and rosemary confirmed it. Eliza had fixed Mairi’s favorite: a hearty ratatouille.

Mairi tore a crust from the loaf of bread sitting beside the stove and dipped it into the pot. “And where exactly is he sleeping, anyway?” Surely, Eliza hadn’t really taken him to the privacy of the forbidden fourth floor.

Eliza pinched a good helping of salt from the crock sitting on the shelf above the stove. She sprinkled it freely over the vegetable stew then stirred it in with the ladle. “There now. Dip yer bit of bread in that and see if it’s no’ better than before.”

As far as Mairi was concerned, the stew had already tasted perfect, but who was she to argue? She tore off another small chunk of bread, dipped it in the stew, and popped it in her mouth. The belly-warming flavors of onion, peppers, fennel, and roasted eggplant triggered a delicious shiver. “Perfect. Now, where did you say you’d put Ronan?”

Eliza glanced up from the pot, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Have ye gone daft, then? I already told ye he’d be on the fourth floor. He should be finishing with his bath right about now.”

“The fourth floor?” Mairi repeated. She waved a sauce-covered chunk of bread in Eliza’s direction. “Really?
Your
fourth floor?”

Eliza rolled her eyes and went back to stirring the stew. “The last I checked, this house had but one fourth floor, Mairi.”

“But it’s your level. Forbidden to all.” Mairi dusted her fingers free of crumbs as she leaned back against the counter. “Lilia and I haven’t even been to the fourth floor and we’ve lived here over a year.”

“Aye, well, all that’s about to change.” Eliza pulled a bowl down from the upper cabinet and proceeded to fill it with a heaping ladle full of the ratatouille. “Yer going to take dinner to our guest.”

Mairi didn’t say a word, just shifted her gaze to Lilia, who had grown suspiciously over-interested in how the fur on the little dog could be tufted in different directions. When she finally glanced up from the little animal, damning color had spread across her cheeks. That cinched it. Lilia and Eliza had been plotting.

“What are you two up to?”

Eliza placed the bowl of stew on the table in front of Lilia. “There’s no time for chatter. Lilia needs to eat so she can walk the wee dog, and your guest is waiting upstairs. I’m sure a man that size is starvin’ by now.” She pointed to a wide cloth-covered tray balanced on the counter. “There’s your dinner as well as Ronan’s. Hie now and get it to him so ye’ll both be able to enjoy it whilst it’s pipin’ hot.”

“Why can’t he eat down here with us?” If Eliza expected her to happily skip into whatever trap she’d carefully set, then she’d better think again. Mairi leaned more comfortably back against the counter. Eliza had better realize she was an amateur compared to Granny when it came to setting traps.

Eliza didn’t answer, just walked to the tray and made the odd clucking noise that always meant she was thoroughly displeased. “I canna believe ye’d deny a weary man a simple meal. A man who was so concerned for yer welfare, he risked his own health by traipsing out in the foul weather to help ye find a dog ye’d only had but a few hours.” She jerked her head from side to side, her brightly painted lips pulled down into a disapproving frown. “Shameful, I tell ye. Just shameful.”

Oh Lord.
“Give me the damn tray.” Mairi nudged her way between Eliza and the tray and hefted it to her chest. Eliza was such a drama queen when things didn’t go her way. “I asked a simple question. All you had to say was that he didn’t feel like coming down. You know I’d never begrudge helping someone who’s ailing.”

Her face wreathed in smiles, Eliza looped a cloth bag about Mairi’s neck then happily patted her shoulder. “There’s a fine bottle of Rhenish, a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a pair of tart apples for dessert. Mind the steps and dinna stumble and send all me hard work a flyin’.”

“Good gosh. There’s enough food here to feed an army.” Mairi peered around the tray and gingerly started up the steps.

“No’ an army. Just a fine-size man awaitin’ to be fed. Mind the turn in the stair and dinna tip the tray.” Eliza’s instructions echoed up the stairwell as Mairi climbed ever higher.

It didn’t matter what Eliza said about Ronan feeling too ill to come downstairs for supper. Instinct told her she was walking into a trap. The closer Mairi drew to the fourth level of the house, the more nervous she became. She had to admit, she’d secretly looked forward to seeing Ronan again. The fact that a room seemed empty without him disturbed her more than a little. How could she feel that way about a guy she’d just met?

She paused on the landing to the fourth floor, staring at the entrance to Eliza’s private suite. This was definitely a trap. Had to be. Why had this man suddenly shown up in her life? She bit her lip. The only way she was going to find out was by getting to know him better. Mairi took a deep breath, put her back to the door, and pushed down the latch with her elbow.

A stifling cloud of rose-scented air filled the room.
Holy crap.
No wonder the man was ill. Eliza’s love for the cloyingly sweet smell of roses made breathing in here a chore. Mairi blinked against the fragrance stinging her eyes, glancing about the room as she made her way to the opposite door.
Damn. I hope the air in the next room is better. He may have suffocated by now if it’s as bad as this one.

Mairi breathed in short, labored huffs through her mouth as she backed up to the next door and pushed that latch down with her elbow. The last words Eliza had shouted up the stair were not to bother knocking at the first two doors because they were just sitting areas and Ronan wouldn’t be able to hear her if he was still in the bath. The bedroom and the bathroom were the farthest rooms on the floor—discretely offset from the sitting rooms and guaranteed to be private. Mairi turned into the room as she pushed open the door then nearly dropped the tray at the wondrous view that greeted her.

Unabashedly naked, Ronan stood with feet spread and back to the fire, drying his hair with one end of the towel he hugged against his massive chest. Teasing droplets of water snaked down the gleaming planes of his hard, muscular body. The gleaming moisture snared Mairi’s focus, luring her gaze down the laddered ridges of his taut stomach then much lower to the defined pattern of dark hair starting right below his navel and marking the path to the impressive prize at the end of the trail.

The corded muscles of his thighs flexed as Ronan shifted in place.
Son of a bitch
. The man needed USDA Prime tattooed up his flank.
Dammit.
Her sexual thermostat shot to a
hell yes
hot and ready from the naked Highlander tour. Catching her breath, Mairi jerked her gaze upward to his face and steadied herself back against the door.

Ronan’s gaze locked with Mairi’s as he slowly lowered the towel to his waist, allowing it to drape across the tempting package that Mairi had already registered into the
oh-my-God
corner of her mind—reserved for only the most impressive sights she’d seen in her lifetime. Amusement and something akin to seduction gleamed in Ronan’s liquid silver gaze. “Mistress?”

“Uhm.” Mairi swallowed hard, tightened her grip on the tray, and did her damnedest not to let her gaze dip below his waist again in the hopes the towel had shifted to one side. “I brought…” Mairi lifted the tray. “…supper. I brought supper.”

Lordy, can I sound any more stupid?
She forced her attention to the wide round table in the corner of the room. “I’ll set it up over there. I bet you’re starving.” Mairi lowered the heavy tray to the table then pulled the tote from around her neck, extricating the contents of the bag and setting two places. “Eliza didn’t want you to eat alone so I brought mine up here too.”
Okay. Enough babbling.
It wasn’t like Ronan was the first man she’d ever seen without his clothes. An involuntary shudder shook through her. Who was she kidding? She’d never seen a man built like Ronan…not naked…and not this close with enough privacy to lead to any number of delightful possibilities.

“Be sure to thank Mistress Eliza, and I appreciate your willingness to dine with me.”

Was he making fun of her? Mairi glanced up from the small cast-iron pot holding the stew and focused on Ronan’s aura. The deep indigo shade vibrating around him immediately pulled at Mairi’s heart.
Indigo. The color of the third-eye chakra. Intelligence. Psychic power. The color of still waters running deep and mysterious. Indigo. My favorite color
. No. Ronan was not making fun of her.

She placed the lid back on the pot and motioned toward the bathroom. “Why don’t you go and get dressed while I fix our plates. Eliza insists the stew is best when it’s piping hot.”

With one hand fisted in the towel at his waist, Ronan nodded. “Aye. Mistress Eliza said she left a change of clothes in the wardrobe. I’ll at least slip on a pair of trews.” He paused beside Mairi, reached across the table, and tore a bit of cheese from the wedge.

The heat of him, the warm clean scent of him, stroked her senses, making her ache to turn and smooth her hands across those burnished planes of muscle. Mairi fisted her hands, rubbing her knuckles against the tabletop while easing in deep, controlling breaths.

“Uhm…” Mairi slid a pace away, shaking herself free of the erotic spell. “Eliza sent her favorite Rhenish too.” She glanced about the room, spying the crystal decanters and wineglasses neatly arranged on top of the buffet in the corner. “There’re some glasses. I’ll finish setting up.” She swallowed hard and weakly waved him toward the bathroom. “Hurry and get dressed. Supper is getting cold.”

Ronan slowly lowered his chin in a polite nod while a warm smile tickled at the corners of his mouth. “Aye, lass. Rest easy. I’ll hurry back to ye.” As Ronan turned and padded from the room, he allowed the towel to slip from his waist just as he walked out the doorway.

Mairi swallowed hard, leaning back to keep Ronan’s finely sculpted posterior in view until he passed through the bedroom door on the other side of the bathroom.
Dammit. I need a drink.
She propped the food tray against the bookcase and retrieved a pair of wineglasses from the rack built into the top of the buffet.