“The only reason we keep having this conversation is because you ne’er sit down so we can sort it out. You’re constantly running scared, lass, and I’m trying to tell you that you have nothing to fear—not from me anyway.”
“Oh, trust me. I have plenty to fear from you. You’re the only one making my life screwy, Iain. I was supposed to come here, find the Hope, write my paper to academic acclaim, and move on to my next project. Falling in love and getting married? Not part of the plan.”
She turned to go, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, his lips on hers, taking her with wanton abandon, her protests melting in the heat of their passion. “Marry me, Cat. I’m going to keep asking ye until you say yes.”
He kissed her again, his fingers tangled in her hair as he held her to him, consuming her with his very soul, no longer needing breath as long as he had her.
Between kisses she managed to get her response out. “I’m ignoring you, Iain MacCraigh. You asking that question? Never happened.”
He let out a chuckle against her lips, lifting her off her feet as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “If you say so, love.”
By the time they made it to his room, he could barely string together a coherent thought—except that she had yet to push him away and was returning his passions. With every fiber of his being, he wanted her. With every breath. With every beat of his heart.
And then she pushed him away, her breath coming in heavy as she moved away from him. “I can’t do this, Iain.”
“Cat, please… don’t push me away, love.” His heart fell into a slow shatter. “Stay.”
She was already heading for the door. “I won’t go to the inn, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s got to stop. Goodnight, Iain.”
He let out a ragged sigh laden with hurt and unfulfilled desire. “I’ll let it go for now, love—but this is far from over.”
***
Come morning, Iain awoke to Duncan’s incessant barking, a sure sign that Iain’s bad mood would only worsen. Pushing Cat from his mind, he followed the commotion to the library and found his brother and James sitting on the sofa across from the paintings. “What the hell are ye doing here? After the shite you pulled the other night, neither of you are welcome here.”
“It’s my home as much as it’s yours, Iain.” Malcolm stood and faced him, a look of smug arrogance on his face.
“You fecking eejit. Your big mouth had nationalists traipsing through the home with weapons.” He fisted his brother’s shirt. “They hit Cat over the head hard enough to render her unconscious. So don’t go telling me that ye have a right to be here—you lost that privilege when you gambled yourself into a hole. Da’s left the house to me. You have no claim here, Malcolm.”
His brother shrugged out of Iain’s grasp. “That’s where you’d be wrong. The house is only yours once Da passes, and until then you’ve no more claim on it than I. We’re here to find the Highlander’s Hope, and if ye think you’re going to stop us, then you can guess again.”
He tried his best to mask any acknowledgement of the necklace. “You’re daft. Cat may be a historian, but she’s only here for one reason, and that’s me. You and your friends have ruined what was supposed to be a romantic holiday.”
James tilted his head towards Cat’s laptop, and let out a laugh that made Iain want to punch him. “I know Cat, and trust me when I tell you, the girl is here for the necklace. She is nothing if not meticulous in her documentation, even if she doesn’t refer to the Highlander’s Hope by name.”
“That’s password-protected.” Iain’s temper rose.
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” James laughed, looking smug.
It was a hunch, and Iain went with it, his temper flaring. “You’ve had remote access to her computer, haven’t ye? Set it up the last time you got your hands on it.”
There were plenty of programs out there that allowed external users remote control—and if you didn’t know what to look for, you’d never know. All one needed was access to the computer just once to download the program, and James had the opportunity when he and Cat had been dating.
James looked so smug, it made Iain want to plant a fist in his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’d be careful about making any accusations. I could take you to court for slander.”
“Go for it.” Furious, Iain would love a fight.
“Is it true, James?” Cat walked into the room, her hair disheveled, and her eyes ablaze as she zeroed in on her ex. She then laughed, shaking her head—but only a fool would take it for humor. “I can’t believe it.”