“Help ye with what?” Dread washed over Iain, as Cat grabbed his hand.
“With finding the Highlander’s Hope, of course.”
Chapter Eleven
“You bastard.” Cat lunged at James, but Iain grabbed her around the waist and held tight. Probably a good thing, since she was a heartbeat away from murder. She really thought she’d be successful in her search this time and would get the credit she deserved.
“Get him out of here, Malcolm. He isn’t welcome here—and neither are you.” Iain was bristling, and Cat was worried it’d soon come to fists. Even Duncan was on his feet, adding to the chaos with barks and growls.
“I have just as much right to be here as you do, Iain—and just as much right to the Highlander’s Hope. I think you forget that as long as Da’s alive and doesn’t mind having me around, it’s my home too.”
“A home you’d be happy to gamble away. You even dragged our father into your mess. Do you want me to tell him how his investment’s turned out? Do you really think you’ll be welcome in his home when he finds out you lied and manipulated him? Put our entire family in jeopardy just so you could have a bit of fun? Get out. Now.”
Iain moved towards the two men, clearly not in the mood to have his brother or James sticking around.
“This isn’t over, Iain.” Malcolm turned to go, but James lingered.
“I knew you were hiding something, Cat. Pity you didn’t come to me first. I could have helped you—could have included you in the find.”
Cat laughed in his face. “As if you’re capable of managing anything without my help. Go home, James.”
Iain and Duncan moved closer, and it was enough to get James moving. With the door locked behind their intruders, the gravity of what had just happened hit Cat like a fist to the gut.
She told herself it didn’t matter. They would find the necklace first, and even if they didn’t, it was just a necklace.
Yet it wasn’t. It was the Highlander’s Hope. The find of the century—her find.
Her eyes burned with threatening tears as she desperately tried to curse them away. She wouldn’t let James get to her—except that he already had.
“I’m sorry, love.” Iain pulled her into his arms and held her tight, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll not let them back onto the estate, Cat. They won’t get close enough to find it.”
“What choice will you have?” She swiped at a tear that escaped, and steeled herself against any others, refusing to let them fall. “Malcolm knows we were at the loch and were asking about the Bleeding Heart. And there’s no way to know if they’re out in the hills wandering about. It’s too large an estate to monitor.”
“They still don’t know enough to find it—and without the journals and the paintings, they won’t stand a chance.” He tilted her chin up so she’d have to look at him. “I’ll have all the locks changed first thing tomorrow.”
Now more than ever it felt like there was a clock ticking down to the end, and she wasn’t going to make it. “We need to get back to the letters and journals.”
She turned to go, but he gently grabbed her arm. “Leave it for the night, Cat. Clear your head first, get a good night’s rest, and then we’ll start fresh in the morning.”
She shook her head, looking over at all their research sprawled out across the library. “Iain, time’s running out. We need to find it.”
“You need a break, Cat. You’re too worked up over this, and it won’t do ye any good.”
She shook her head no, her body still tense. “I’m too worked up to get any rest or to let it go. I can’t.”
“It’s your choice, but I don’t like to see you so upset.”
Not wanting him to worry about her, she slipped her arms around his waist, and leaned her head on his still-bare chest, his skin hot against her cheek. Having him so close, she was more than a little tempted to vent her anger and frustration in a more productive way. Maybe pick up where they left off.
She kissed his chest and then the hollow of his neck, eliciting a moan of need from Iain, which happily resulted in some of her anger slipping free. Giving in to her emotions and desires, she bit his neck, while her hands moved to his hips, pulling him close.
“Cat… this isn’t exactly what I had in mind for romancing ye.”
“You were going to romance me? I like that.” He was so sweet. And with the body of a Greek god. Handsome and smart too. It’d be a pity to let a jerk like James ruin her night—and she’d be damned if she was going to let him. All that anger? She could easily turn it to heat.