The Highlander's Hope(45)
“Just be careful. There’s rubble everywhere, and if there’s a tunnel below, I don’t want you falling through.”
Unable to resist flirting with him, she threw him a teasing smile over her shoulder. “What are the chances of that happening?”
She barely had the words out when a wooden plank gave way, gouging her leg from calf to knee. Iain was at her side in a heartbeat, muttering curses under his breath as he helped her extract herself, leaving her boot behind in the hole. He carried her over to a large stone and sat her down.
“Let me see.” Carefully, he pulled her pant leg up and out of the way, and let out a huge sigh of relief. “We’ll need to disinfect it when we get back, but it’s mainly just a bit of scraped skin and a few splinters. Your boot saved you from the worst of it. I swear, Cat. You’re going to be the death of me. Are ye always this bad or is it just around me?”
“I think you’ve somehow managed to amplify how accident-prone I am.” Pulling down her pant leg, she gave him a reassuring smile, hoping it’d work. “Don’t look so worried. It’s just a scrape. I’m fine.”
“You’re fine this time.” His curses switched to Gaelic—never a good sign, as far as Cat was concerned, having been on the receiving end of it more than once when she’d exasperated her father.
“I promise to be more careful, but right now, I want my boot back and I want to know what sort of hole my foot fell into.”
He shook his head, his entire body tense. “Ye have a one-track mind, woman. Does it not matter that you’re constantly getting hurt?”
“Iain… what would you have me do? I’m here to find the necklace, and will do whatever it takes. I’m not going to let those jerks scare or bully me out of finding it, and I’m certainly not going to let bumps and bruises slow me down.” She grabbed his shirt, resisting the urge to shake him as her emotions rose to the surface, refusing to be beaten back.
Suddenly, everything felt as if it was slipping out of control. First James and Malcolm, and now total strangers, all trying to get to the Hope. The last thing she could afford to do was slow down and take things easy.
Her eyes burned with threatening tears, but she refused to let her emotions get in her way. “You’re not going to stop me, Iain, and I’m not leaving until I find the Hope. Do you hear me?”
“Aye, love. Hush.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tight, murmuring to her in Gaelic until she’d calmed down. “I’m not trying to stop you, Cat. But each time you get hurt and brush it off like it’s of no consequence, it worries me that you’re not being careful enough, and you’re taking too many risks. We’ll find the necklace. But I don’t want it to be with our dying breath.”
With a large exhale, she rid herself of the tension eating away at her, knowing he was right. It just meant he cared—and that was nice. She went up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a sweet man, Iain MacCraigh. It’s a good thing I have you around to keep me safe.”
“A sweet man, aye? Just don’t let that get around. I have a reputation to uphold. You know… playboy, ruthless businessman, and what was it you called me on the day we first met? Ah yes, arrogant jerk.”
She had to laugh. The two of them certainly had come a long way since he’d nearly run her over. “Who knew you’d be such a contradiction. I’ll admit, I’m glad I’ve been given the opportunity to find that out.”
“Are you really?” He twined his fingers with hers and brought them to his lips, a sparkle in his eyes. “Then let’s hope you manage to live long enough to make the most of it.”
The way he looked at her would have any woman swooning into his arms. Pity it would eventually have to come to an end. She supposed she could make the most of their time together—or concentrate on work instead. “Are you ready to check out that hole then?”
“Aye, love. But first things first.” He got to his feet, went over to where her foot had gone through the board, and pulled away at some of the rotten wood so he could reach in and grab her boot. He held it up victoriously before sliding it onto her foot. “Not exactly a glass slipper, is it?”
“Well, last I checked, I wasn’t exactly Cinderella.”
He laughed. “You know you want to say it—and I’m not exactly Prince Charming.”
Her lips tugged into a smile. “Truth is, you’re pretty damn close. Not something I ever anticipated.”
“That’s because, like so many others, you underestimated me, Cat.” He stood up and, taking both her hands in his, pulled her to her feet. “But I don’t mind, love. It’s how I’ll win.”