Possession of a Highlander Page 3

  She needed to come up with a plan, and soon.

  Chapter Five

  The rush nips burned bright in the polished sconces lining the luxurious red walls of Brianna’s solar. Her palm skimmed the slick front of her gown, smoothing the dark blue fabric for the countless time. Her impending meeting with the Highlander left her more disconcerted than she cared to admit.

  Of course, her agitation could have something to do with the way he’d continued to glance at her through dinner. Men had watched her thus before, with a mixture of ardor and interest, but never had their gazes left her so self-conscious.

  A knock at the door caused her to jump, and her fingers instinctively went to her bodice. With an irritated sigh, she dropped her hand. She refused to primp for her meeting with him. No matter how much he rattled her.

  Brianna clasped the thick iron handle and tugged the door open. The Highlander gave her that infuriating grin and strode into the room with a swagger too cocky for her liking.

  Magda, her aging nurse who sat in on her meetings, had not yet arrived. Surely she would arrive soon though. Brianna never left the door to her solar open, but in this rare instance, she felt it prudent to do so. She pulled the door open even wider, but the handle slipped from her grasp and the door slammed closed, sealing them in her solar.

  Every muscle in her body locked in place where she stood, her hand still outstretched toward the door handle, her back still facing him. The whisper of his breathing was loud in the oppressive silence, making her all the more aware it was just the two of them.

  Alone.

  It was indecent.

  Brianna could either open the door and acknowledge her mistake in front of the Highlander, allowing him to see she was not entirely comfortable with him, or leave herself closed in a private room with him. Too stubborn to admit fault in his presence, she left the door shut and prayed silently for Magda’s swift arrival.

  She turned and looked at him. His Highland garb was primitive, despite the fine material, and his shoulder-length auburn hair had been tied back with a leather thong. He still looked every bit a barbarian.

  Perhaps it was best she open the door.

  “Ye looked verra lovely today.” His voice was surprisingly gentle. “No that ye’re the kind of woman who needs a fine gown to be bonny, but it suits ye well.”

  The compliment disarmed her, and an unexpected heat rose to her cheeks. Immediately she felt guilty for her own thoughts of his attire. “Er-thank you,” she stammered and turned from the closed door.

  Men had always praised her beauty, as was deserving of her station, but their eyes never reflected their sincerity. Not like his did now.

  She almost believed him.

  “You and your companion will take lodging in the older part of the house.” Her hands remained clasped in front of her where she couldn’t tug at her bodice again. “Your private rooms are being prepared as we speak.”

  “Thank ye.” He didn’t look around the room as he spoke to her. Not once had he even glanced at its opulence, not toward the piles of ledgers, the rich wall hangings, or even the small locked chest on her desk.

  His presence filled the room, and it had little to do with the way his head almost touched the painted ceiling. Awareness tingled across Brianna’s flesh.

  He stood close to her.

  Too close. The heat of his powerful body cast a warmth upon her skin and made her want to stagger away.

  Where in God’s toes was Magda?

  • • •

  The solar had not been designed with Brianna in mind. Colin knew that the moment he stepped into the room. The lines of the desk were too sharp, the walls too savage red, the seat too large for her feminine body. But it was hers. The room was cast in a sweet, heady lavender scent, her scent, and it softened the hard masculinity of the room.

  She strode stiffly past him and crossed the floor with the comfort of ownership before pulling a weathered book from the depths of an alcove. Her fingers pinched a faded blue ribbon and slid the book open with its marker.

  He caught her glance toward the door again. The slight movement confirmed what he already knew. For all the strength and authority she attempted to convey, she was uncomfortable around him, if not afraid.

  She started to smooth down her bodice, but stopped midway and balled her hand into a fist. “My nurse should be arriving soon. She is usually present for all my appointments.”

  For all her appointments. Her mother was dead, her father ill, and there was no steward per what Colin had assessed with subtle questioning earlier that day.

  The lass was clearly running the estate.

  It was an unusual thing for a girl, especially one with a dowry and of marriageable age, but she appeared to wear the responsibility like a mantle.

  She strode past him once more, settled into the chair, and craned her neck over the ledger. She looked almost lost in the slick leather upholstery.

  Colin settled into the chair opposite the desk. As much as her chair was too large for her, his chair was too small for him. One shift in the wrong direction would send the wobbly legs crushing beneath him. “If ye canna feel safe with yer Captain of the Guard, who can ye feel safe with?”

  Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, then knit together as if she was mulling the concept over.

  Rather than reply, she pulled a quill from the pewter inkpot and regarded him from across the wide expanse of the desktop. The feather trembled where it perched in her hand. Her fingers were still stained from the dark, rich earth. She gave him a pointed look, drawing his attention to the warm honey-brown of her eyes once more. “You will receive lodging and food for your services, as well as a stipend.”

  The quill scratched against the parchment before she slid the book in his direction.

  Colin glanced at the number written on the ledger.

  “Does this seem fair?” she asked.

  “Aye, verra much so,” he answered. The funds were generous, even for the role of Captain of the Guard. Still, the amount was insignificant next to the wealth he’d amassed while in the employ of Kieran MacDonald. But guards did not work for free, and he wasn’t eager to arouse suspicion of his true purpose.

  She nodded once and pulled the book toward her. Her lips pursed together, thinning her generous pout.

  Colin leaned forward and watched her write in the journal with long, looping letters. “I dinna mean offense, but I’ve no ever heard of a woman handling an estate’s accounts.” He knew her father was ill, but he could not imagine a laird allowing his daughter to run the estate.

  “And I’ve not ever heard of a Highlander being in charge of a Lowland army.” She lifted her head in a silent challenge before she shook a pewter cup over the ledger. Fine sand sifted through the dotted top onto the glistening ink of freshly printed words. “I suppose we are both anomalies who should be grateful for our positions and not question them lest they be revoked.” She turned to the side and blew the drying powder off the page.

  “I need to know who I should speak with regarding the castle’s defenses,” Colin said.

  She lifted her chin. “That would be me.”

  Oh, Alec was going to love that. The thought of him taking orders from a lass dwarfed by her seat of authority was almost more than Colin could bear. He choked down his mirth. “But ye’re a woman.”

  Brianna snapped her book of accounts shut in a cloud of dust. “And I am the one who will answer your questions.” She stood so abruptly that her chair screamed in protest against the stone floor.

  She eased around her desk with a graceful sway of her hips and returned to the alcove, book in hand.

  He turned in his seat, watching her walk. There was slow sensuality to the way her round bottom swished the fine silk of her dress, even more so when he knew the act was unintentional. “What do ye know of battle?” he asked.

  She slid the ledger back into the alcove before turning to him with a proud tilt to her jaw. “I have read many books on war, and I’ve studi
ed Di Grassi’s manuals extensively. In Italian.” Her chin tipped higher with pride, as if daring him to be impressed with her feat.

  Knowing Italian didn’t win battles, but considering he’d already offended her at least twice, probably more, he swallowed his reply and rose from his chair. Assaulting her with inquiries was hardly the way to begin wooing.

  He approached her with a slow intent he hoped would not frighten her. She did not move, not until he was directly in front of her, then she took a step back and bumped into the wall.

  Her brow furrowed slightly and her cheeks pinked. Her mouth was heart-shaped, soft pink against her alabaster smooth skin, her lower lip slightly larger than the top. Perfect for teasing with his tongue.

  He leaned toward her, lured by the temptation of her innocent mouth.

  Wooing Brianna Lindsay was going to be enjoyable.

  He took her small hand in his and looked down upon it. Her palm was slick with sweat beneath his thumb, confirmation that he did indeed make her nervous. As if the quickened rise and fall of her bosom did not suggest as much already.

  Black smears stained her fingers, though now upon closer inspection, it was evidently ink and not soil as he’d assumed. Some stains were fresh, some set in the grooves of her fingertips. The lass wrote often, if her hands were any indication.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Checking for calluses from handling a battle axe.” He gave her a teasing wink and was rewarded with a tentative smile.

  He shifted closer, so the fabric of her gown whispered against his body, the nervous flush along the top of her bosom was visible. Her sensual lips appeared petal-soft in the low, golden light and sparked a deep pull of desire in his loins.

  His thumb skimmed the graceful point of her chin, and he felt more than heard her soft intake of breath, a gentle whisper of air across the back of his hand. Her face tilted up, her mouth parted.

  He had to kiss her, to taste what he knew would be sweet and intoxicating. Just enough to lure her in.

  Or so he told himself.

  Colin bent over her, and while she did not pull away, he could sense her uncertainty. Her stare dropped to his mouth, and her tongue darted nervously between her lips, wetting them, tempting him beyond what she could possibly comprehend.

  The solar door slammed open then with an abrupt smack, snapping their delicate thread of intimacy and leaving them exposed to the intruder.

  Chapter Six

  Brianna remained frozen where she was with her bottom pressed against the plaster behind her and the wall of Colin’s body before her, massive and filling all the space around her. Someone was in the room. A flutter of panic scrambled in her chest. Someone had entered the room.

  They could not be caught thus.

  She tried to move away, succeeding only in slamming the back of her head against the wall in a righteous thwack of pain. Stars danced in front of her eyes and the Highlanders grip tightened on her palm. “Yer head.”

  When had he held her hand?

  She pulled herself from his grasp and gingerly brushed the back of her head. Her fingertips met the swell of a large bump but returned dry. No blood.

  Magda sauntered into Brianna’s line of vision with a nonchalant smile on her lips, as if she was not over half an hour late.

  Brianna’s chest squeezed. Her old nurse was having one of her bad days.

  Magda’s gaze settled on Brianna, and one smooth gray eyebrow arched in an austere manner.

  “Did you begin the meeting early?” Magda asked. Her kind, blue eyes narrowed with as much of a threatening look as she was ever able to muster.

  The Highlander had the decency to step back before turning to address Magda. “Ach, ye must be the nurse Lady Lindsay spoke of. What a lucky man I am to be in a room with two beauties.”

  Magda was not swayed. “May I ask what you were doing with my ward?”

  “Aye,” the Highlander said readily. “I was checking her hands for callouses from a battle axe.”

  “A battle axe?”

  “I imagine two ladies as bonny as ye dinna need a battle axe.” He winked. “I imagine men are always verra ready to help.”

  Magda ran a hand over her hair, smoothing the graying gold of her perfect coif. Color warmed her withered cheeks. “A flatterer. You, sir, are the worst kind.”

  Was that a smile on Magda’s face? Brianna stared. Had the Highlander won over her nurse so quickly?

  “He was just leaving,” Brianna said sharply. She edged away from her cornered position and crossed the room toward the open door.

  Magda tilted her head in light chastisement. “I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to this man yet.”

  Before Brianna could open her mouth, the barbarian bowed with all the grace of a courtier. “Colin MacKinnon, my lady.”

  “A strong name for a Highland lad.” Magda nodded to herself. “You come from good stock.”

  He inclined his head. “Thank ye, madam.”

  Brianna watched the exchange with trepidation. The conversation couldn’t last much longer—they seldom ever lasted this long on bad days.

  Brianna had to stop this. Now. “I’ll have someone show you and your companion to your rooms.”

  She caught Magda’s furrowed brow and noted the look of confusion flutter across the woman’s face. Brianna’s heart slid into her belly.

  She tried again. “Please, if we can just leave—”

  “Greetings, sir. I don’t think I’ve met you yet.” Magda looked pointedly toward the Highlander.

  Brianna cast a wary glance at him, waiting for the cruel laughter she was certain would follow.

  “My name is Colin MacKinnon, madam.” He bowed low once more.

  “A strong name for a Highland lad. You come from good stock.” Magda nodded, and appreciation lit her rheumy blue gaze.

  Everything inside Brianna winced. If forgetting the man were not enough for him to mock the old woman, surely the repeat of the exact phrase she’d uttered before would earn his mirth. Any other outsider would be slapping his knee by this point.

  But the smile on the man’s face was not malicious. It was as genuine as it had been before. “Thank ye, madam.”

  Brianna watched him carefully, waiting for a sign of cruel mockery. None came.

  “Shall we?” He motioned politely toward the door.

  Brianna gave a slow nod, but could not bring herself to move forward. Aside from Bernard, no man had ever been so gracious toward Magda on her bad days.

  “After ye, lass.” He motioned with his palm for Magda to proceed ahead of him.

  “Ach! I haven’t been called a lass in years.” A deep blush stained the old woman’s cheeks once more, and Brianna felt a carefree smile touch her own lips.

  The Highlander extended his hand toward her in silent invitation for her to walk ahead of him. She stepped into the hall with automatic movements, her mind reeling. Perhaps the stranger was not as bad as she had initially assumed. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes.

  Certainly she had never seen eyes so green as those belonging to Colin MacKinnon.

  • • •

  Sweat ran down Colin’s temple, and the sun burned against his bare back. It was the hottest damn day of the year, and not a semblance of a breeze passed through the still courtyard.

  “Again,” he ordered.

  The men did not complain at being told to perform the action for the tenth time. They lined up with their practice swords pulled from their scabbards and dutifully lunged at one another in mock battle. Heat flushed their faces and dampened their hair. If they felt tired, they did not let it show.

  The soldier with pale blond hair stepped out of line. “I feel like I don’t have enough control over the blade when I parry in this position, Captain. Am I doing it wrong?” He demonstrated the maneuver, and Colin noticed the tip of his sword dip low.

  “Try it like this, Jonathan.” Colin stepped forward and parried, keeping the blade of his sword level.


  Jonathan adjusted his weapon and lunged at Colin with a playful smirk. It connected with Colin’s own sword in a solid clang.

  “Think ye can take on yer Captain, eh?” Colin waggled his brows. He feinted to the right and stuck his foot out, catching Jonathan off-guard and sending him to the ground.

  With a hearty laugh, Colin bent down and helped him to his feet. “Ye’re getting better. Ye’ll be besting me before the month is out.”

  A husky, feminine voice sounded behind him. “And here I thought you were training my men, yet I find you playing.”

  Brianna.

  Colin turned toward his visitor like a plant turns toward the heat of the sun.

  Almost a week had passed since they last spoke in the solar. She had avoided him since. Or at least that’s what he could assume, considering he’d only ever seen the hem of her skirts whipping around corners since he arrived.

  She was no longer pretending he didn’t exist. Her amber eyes were on his naked torso, wide with surprise. A blush stained her cheeks, matching the luscious red of her velvet gown and making her lips stand out like a freshly picked cherry.

  No doubt she wished she’d continued her evasion.

  “Is it necessary to practice so obscenely naked?” She glanced toward the castle.

  “Did yer men no practice without their leines prior to my arrival?” He motioned to the small army of red-faced, bare-chested soldiers.

  Brianna glanced to the men, and the flush of her cheeks deepened. She lifted her head haughtily. “I have more important things to do with my time than watch the men practice.”

  “So I can presume it’s my charming disposition that brings ye out in this heat?” He grinned down at her.

  Brianna locked his stare. “You can presume I am monitoring my investment. You promised me six months, and it’s been a week. I want to ensure you aren’t wasting my time.”