Beyond the Highland Myst(478)

What did she have here? Her job at The Cloisters. No social life to speak of. No family. She'd been alone for years now, ever since Grandda had died. In fact, more lonely than she'd cared to admit. A little lost and rootless, which she suspected accounted for her determination to visit Grandda's village, in hopes that she might find some remnants of roots there.

Here was her golden opportunity, coupled with the promise of an adventure she'd never forget, at the side of a man she already knew she'd never be able to forget.

Oh, God, Zanders, she thought, marveling, you're talking yourself into this!

What if he was leaving tomorrow and hadn't asked you to go with him? a tiny inner voice pressed. What if he'd made it absolutely dear that he was leaving, and you would never see him again? What would you have done with this last night with him?

Chloe inhaled sharply, shocked at herself.

Under those hypothetical circumstances, hypothetically, of course, she might have taken her one incredible shot at a man like him, and let him take her to bed. Learned what he had to teach her, eagerly allowed herself to become the focus of all that smoldering promise of sensual knowledge in his exotic eyes.

Looked at that way, going to Scotland with him didn't seem quite so crazy.

He'd been watching her intently, and when she lifted her wide-eyed gaze to his, he rose abruptly from the couch opposite her and moved to stand before her. Impatiently, he pushed the coffee table aside and slipped to his knees at her feet, wrapping his hands around her calves. She felt the heat of his strong hands through her jeans. His mere touch made her shiver.

"Come with me, lass." His voice was low and urgent. "Think of your Scots blood. Doona you wish to stand on the soil of your ancestors? Doona you wish to see the heathery fields and moors? The mountains and the lochs? I'm no' a man who oft makes promises, but I promise you this"—he broke off, laughing softly as if at some private joke—"I can show you a Scotland no other man could ever show you."

"But my job—"

"To hell with your job. You speak the old languages. Two of us can translate faster than one. I'll pay you to help me."

"Really? How much?" Chloe blurted, then flushed, appalled by how quickly she'd asked.

He laughed again. And she knew that he knew he just about had her.

"Select a piece—any piece—from my collection."

Her fingers curled covetously. He was the very devil; he had to be! He knew her price.

His voice dropped to an intimate purr. "Then choose two more. For one month of your time."

Her jaw dropped. Three artifacts, plus a trip to Scotland, for one month of her time? Was he kidding! She could sell any one of the artifacts upon her return to Manhattan (she made a mental note to choose one with which she could bear to part), go back to school, get her Ph.D. and work in any darned museum she wanted to! She could afford to take fabulous vacations, see the world. She—Chloe Zanders—could lead a glamorous, exciting life!

And all the devil ever wants in exchange, a small voice inside her purred caustically, is a soul.

She ignored it.

"Plus the skean dhu?" she clarified hastily.

"Aye."

"Why Inverness?" she asked breathlessly.

A shadow flitted across his gorgeous face. " 'Tis where my brother Drustan, and his wife live." He hesitated a moment, then added, "He collects texts as well."

And if she'd been wavering before, that clinched it for her. His brother and his wife; they would be seeing his family. How dangerous could a man be if he was taking her to his family? It wasn't as if they'd be alone together all the time. They'd be with his family. If she was clever, she'd be able to insulate herself from his seduction. And to spend a month with him! To get to know him, learn what made such a man tick Who knew what might happen in a month? And the prince fell in love with the peasant girl… Her heart was hammering.

"Say aye, lass. You want to, I see it in your eyes. Choose your pieces. We'll drop them off at your place before we leave."

"They'd never be safe in my apartment!" Even she knew how feeble that protest was.

"Then in one of those boxes… One of those…" He glanced askance.

"Safety deposit boxes at a bank, you mean?"

"Aye, that's it, lass."

"And I get the key?" she pounced.

He nodded, the light of victory glittering in his predatory gaze. In a movie, the devil would wear just such a look before he said, "Sign here."

"Why are you doing this?" she breathed.

"I told you. I want you."

She shivered again. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Mayhap'tis soul-alchemy. I doona ken. I doona care."

"I won't sleep with you, MacKeltar," she said suddenly. She didn't want him expecting that, needed it spelled out very carefully. If, at some point, she decided it was something she was willing to risk, that was one thing. But he needed to understand that it was not part of their bargain. Such things couldn't be bargained for. "Your artifacts purchase only my company as a translator. Not sex. That's not part of our deal."