Untamed Highlander

TWENTY

It took all of Hayden’s control not to rush out and toss Duncan away from Isla. He shouldn’t want to defend Isla, but he did.

Hayden cursed and placed his hands on the wall in front of him. He leaned forward and let his head drop. He hadn’t needed to see the confrontation, not when his hearing was so excellent.

Isla’s words echoed inside Hayden’s head long after silence descended. What was she doing? Had she left the village? Did she now stand on the cliffs as she had done that first day?

“Fascinating.”

Hayden whirled around to find Lucan leaning casually against the doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest and one ankle rested on the other.

“Tell me,” Lucan said. “Do you watch her because you want to? Or because you were asked to?”

Hayden almost gave into the urge to walk over and punch him. “Because I was asked to.”

“Hmm. Why the anger then?”

Hayden frowned. He had been turned away from Lucan, there was no way Lucan could have known the rage that boiled inside him.

Lucan raised a black brow and jerked his chin forward, his eyes lowering.

Hayden glanced down to find red claws extended from both hands. He’d never even felt them, never known his god had tried to break free.

“It is the way of a Highlander to want to protect and defend women,” Lucan said. He lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, his gaze direct and forceful. “However, Isla can take care of herself.” “I know.”

Lucan pushed away from the wall and twisted his lips wryly. “I think maybe you do. Odd how the need to safeguard, to shield doesn’t leave with that knowledge.” Hayden stared at Lucan, wondering what he was getting at. There was no way anyone could know about his and Isla’s night together. Hayden had been cautious not to even glance at Isla, but he always knew she was near. He smelled her, sensed her … felt her. It was disturbing, perplexing.

“Your point, MacLeod,” Hayden said. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He needed to see where Isla was. After all, the MacLeods had asked him to spy on her.

A faint grin passed over Lucan’s face before he turned on his heel. “I’ve no point. Just talking.”

Hayden didn’t believe him for a moment. Lucan didn’t seek someone out unless he wanted or needed something. What Lucan had wanted with him though was a mystery.

He didn’t waste time thinking on it. With Lucan gone, Hayden could look for Isla. But did he really want to? Chances were he’d find her alone. Which meant he’d talk to her.

After what had happened between them, Hayden didn’t think being that close to her was a good idea. It had been hell sitting with her in the great hall. She was so close, yet so far away.

All he’d been able to do was think about how her sweet body had come alive in his arms, how her skin had heated under his touch. Hayden had listened to Camdyn with half an ear, and many times he asked Camdyn to repeat something because he couldn’t concentrate.

If that’s how he acted with her in the same room with him, what would he do if she was next to him?

Hayden didn’t want to find out. He’d given in to his urge to have her, but he couldn’t do it again. He wouldn’t give in again.

It had been the most glorious experience of his life, but she was a drough. She might not have been responsible for his family’s death, but she was of the same origins. They were all the same. And if he believed that, he had tainted his family’s memory.

Hayden rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. When had things gotten so complicated? How could one tiny woman disrupt his life so thoroughly and make him doubt everything?

He let out a sigh and once again wished Logan was there. Maybe his friend’s jest could have chased away some of the melancholy.

Hayden squared his shoulders and looked around the cottage. There was much work to be done, work that would consume him and make him forget ice-blue eyes and silky, ebony hair.

He bent and scooped up a beam that had fallen from the roof. It was charred and useless for its former task, but it was still useable for other things.

Hayden walked it out of the cottage and tossed it aside before he went back inside to immerse himself in labor.

*

Isla let her head loll on the back of the wooden tub. Her muscles ached from the cleaning she had done of the cottages. It had occupied her mind, but always she knew Hayden was never far.

He hadn’t spoken to her since he had left her tower the night before, and as far as she knew, he hadn’t looked her way either.

She had half expected him to come to her defense when Duncan confronted her, but it just proved how little she knew Hayden. That they had kissed, had shared their bodies, did not mean anything to him.

And it shouldn’t mean anything to her.

Isla finished washing and rose from the tub. She would have preferred to take a bath in the tower, but lugging the tub and the water up the long, winding steps would have taken too long. So she’d used Galen’s empty chamber instead.

She stepped out of the cooling water and dried off before dressing. The castle was quiet as everyone settled in for the night, but for Isla, long, lonely hours awaited her.

With her hair still pinned atop her head, she exited the chamber and started toward the tower. She rounded a corner and found Broc blocking her path.

Ever since he had learned of her involvement with Phelan, he’d been angry. And rightly so. What she had done was wrong, and nothing she did would ever make up for it.

She paused several steps from him and waited. When he didn’t speak, she knew she had to. “I understand your anger.” “Nay, you doona,” he said over her. “I’m angry at you, aye, but I’m also angry at myself. I heard Phelan days before the attack. I knew it was a Warrior’s howl, knew Deirdre had someone chained down those stairs, but I didn’t go see for myself.” “You couldn’t have freed him had you gone. Deirdre had bound the chains with magic. The only way to unlock Phelan’s bonds was with a spell, a spell I memorized.” Broc turned his back to the wall and leaned against it, his chin to his chest. “There were many we could have helped through the years.” “Probably,” Isla agreed. “We almost certainly would have been caught, though. Deirdre doesn’t take kindly to betrayal. You would have been dead, and then who would have helped the MacLeods?” He turned his head and grinned. “She suspected me always. I walked a fine line.”

Isla could only imagine. There were many times she’d wanted to fight Deirdre, to try to save the many Druids she saw killed, but Lavena and Grania’s life had been at stake.

Maybe she should have forfeited her sister and niece’s lives years ago. She wondered if it would have changed anything.

“You won’t have an easy time tracking Phelan,” she told Broc. “He has a special power.”

Broc turned so that only one shoulder rested against the wall. “Tell me.”

“His god is Zelfor, the god of torment. Phelan is able to change the surroundings to suit whatever he wants.” “I doona understand.”

“When I was with him he made that awful dark, dank prison of his vanish and put us in the Highlands with the sun shining and heather blooming around us.” Broc whistled. “That is a potent power. Why would Deirdre want to use him, though?”

“There were many plans that Deirdre had. Most I know nothing about. What I do know is her ultimate goal.” “To rule the world.” Broc’s lips twisted in a sneer. “She made that known to everyone.”

“Find Phelan. I need to know that he is all right even if he doesn’t return with you.”

“I give you my oath that I will find him as soon as I’m able.”

It was all Isla could ask for. “When do you leave?”

“Soon.”

She nodded and moved past Broc and continued toward her tower. When she reached the top, she stepped into a dark chamber.

After she lit the candle, Isla looked around her tower. She kept her day filled so she wasn’t able to let her mind wander, but with nighttime, she couldn’t hold back her memories and thoughts.

Isla took off her shoes, stockings, and gown. She stood by the bed in her chemise and began to unpin her hair. It was the stir in the air that told her she wasn’t alone anymore.

Her heart jumped at the thought that it might be Hayden. Who else had visited her in the dead of night?

She set the last pin on the table and turned to face her visitor. Her stomach fluttered like the wings of a bird as she stared at the imposing — and impressive — Warrior before her.

His skin was the deepest, darkest red. Hayden’s eyes, usually as black as midnight, were the same crimson as his skin and claws. He didn’t try to seal his lips over his fangs. At the top of his head, just through his blond hair, she saw the small scarlet horns and smoke that curled from their tips.

There was no desire in his red eyes, no kindness as she had seen the previous night. There was no revulsion as when he had learned she was drough. What she saw reflected in his Warrior eyes was … resignation.

She shouldn’t be surprised. She had asked him to end her life. “Have you come to kill me?”

Hayden shook his head, his blond locks brushing his shoulders.

Isla walked to him then. His saffron shirt was gone, leaving him bare-chested. She longed to touch him, to run her hands over the rippling muscles of his chest. It was his lack of desire that held her hand.

“Why are you here, then?”

He glanced away from her, almost as if he couldn’t bring himself to answer her. “Does it matter?”

“It does.”

He growled and took a step toward her, but Isla wasn’t cowed. She had seen more, experienced more than Hayden could think to show her.

His hands locked around her arms painfully. She didn’t cry out or show him how he hurt her. As she searched his eyes, his crimson Warrior eyes, she saw him warring with himself on whether to thrust her away or not.

Isla decided for him. She raised her arms and pushed at his chest, using just enough magic to propel him back several steps.

“You don’t want to be here, then don’t. I didn’t force you into this tower,” she said between clenched teeth. Her anger rose with each beat of her heart. She didn’t try to tamp it down.

Instead, she unleashed it and let it soar within her.

Hayden bared his teeth and growled again. “Doona lie to me, drough. I know the Druids have spells enough to make a man lust after a woman.” Isla threw back her head and laugh. “Is that what you think I’ve done? Have you so little experience with desire, Hayden, that you cannot tell the difference between your wants and the urging of a spell?” “As if a man could tell the difference.”

“A man, nay. A Warrior? Most certainly.”

His red eyes narrowed on her. “I shouldn’t want you.”

“And I shouldn’t want you,” she admitted.

Her rage disappeared as quickly as it had come. She couldn’t deny the way her body responded to Hayden, and part of her didn’t want to try. She just wanted his touch, his kiss, his body.

“Leave or stay, Hayden, but make your decision now.”