The Highlander's Hope - A Contemporary Highland Romance (6 page)

“
Hadn’t heard from ye, and figured I’d stop by, especially given the talk around town.  Didn’t realize ye had company.  My apologies for interrupting.”

Iain
waved away his concerns.  “Ye know ye’re always welcome, and there’s nothing to interrupt.  Join us for a whisky?”

“I could do with a drop.” 
Angus was still watching their every move, making Cat feel as if every breath, every beat of their heart was under scrutiny. 

They wandered into the sitting room
and Iain went to get them a whisky, while she and Angus grabbed a seat.  He was tall—really tall—and definitely a looker, with black unruly locks and piercing blue eyes.  Add to that the scruffy casual look, and she was sure he had every woman within a twenty-mile radius swooning.

Too bad he was making her panic.

Trying to distract Angus from his suspicions, and to keep herself from bolting, Cat tried a bit of small talk. “So, did you guys go to school together?”

“Aye, we did.  Grew up together, given that our mothers were sisters
.  And what about the two of ye?  Tell me about this whirlwind romance.”  The shit eating grin on his face was just more confirmation that he didn’t believe a word they’d said.

“We met after he n
early ran me over while I attempted to fix my flat tire.”  Was her voice sounding high?  Or was she only sounding panicked in her own head?  At least she’d stuck to the truth—for now.

Angus burst out laughing
, easing the tension knotting her muscles.  “Now that I can believe.  He drives like the hounds of hell are chasing him.”

“Hey!  I’m right here
.”  They ignored Iain’s protests.

Feeling a bit more at ease,
Cat launched into her story, making up the rest of it as she went along.  “At least he was nice enough to drive me home, since the walk to Cambridge would’ve taken me half the day.  To repay him for his kindness, I bought him dinner.”

Iain
handed them each a drink, and then sat by her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder with a smile.  “And then I bought us drinks, hoping I’d have enough time to convince her to see me again.”

“
Well, I’m happy to hear it then.”  Angus tilted his head in Cat’s direction.  “I’ll have ye know, he’s not brought anyone home since secondary school.  It’ll be good for him to get away from his work and actually enjoy himself a bit.”

She liked Angus, and was now feeling guilty that they were lying to him.  Yet they had to
, so she steeled herself to continue their charade.  Trying to act as natural as possible, she twined her fingers with Iain’s and leaned towards him with a smile she hoped didn’t look stiff, as her gaze lingered on his handsome face while snuggling up to him.  “I think it’s been a good thing for both of us.”

“
Aye, lass.  Ye both look happy.”  Angus gave her a sweet smile that reached his eyes this time, letting her breath a small sigh of relief.  He then turned to his best friend, the sweet smile gone.  “Now are ye going to tell me what’s up with the shotgun?  I’ve ne’er seen ye so jumpy before.”

Cat looked at
Iain in question, wondering if he’d manage to lie successfully.  If it were her, she knew she’d have a hard time convincing anyone who truly knew her.  A good thing James had never bothered to pay attention to anyone but himself.

Iain
shrugged.  “Cat has an ex that followed her up from Cambridge.  I just didn’t like the look of him is all.  Thought I’d scare him off.  The gun wasn’t even loaded.” 

Angus looked to Cat.  “Is that true?”

“That I have a jerk of an ex, and he showed up in town?  Unfortunately, though he’s not dangerous.  The gun was a bit of overkill.”  Cat tossed Iain a scolding glance, playing things up for Angus. 

Though the gun was
over the top, the stakes were high and there was a lot to be lost.  She hated to admit it for even a second, but people had killed for less—and this was the Highlander’s Hope.  She could see why Iain was being overly cautious, even if she still thought they were safe since no one really knew what they were after.

Angus looked at the two of them, and shook his head.  “Al
l right.  I’ll let it go for now.”

“Will ye stay for a bit of dinner?” 
Iain sat forward.

Angus stood, finished his drink, and set the glass aside.  “No.  I should go.  But if ye need anything, call me.  Promise.”
  His gaze was direct, locked on Iain’s, his tone serious. 

“Aye, I promise.”

Chapter Six

“I found it.”  Iain wandered down the hall and grabbed the painting from where he stashed it when he’d heard the pounding at the front door.

Taking it back to the
library, he uncovered it.  It was like he remembered—the beautiful woman gazing mournfully out the window of the sitting room, the hills stretching out just beyond.  She was stunning, her porcelain skin glowing with a blush across high cheekbones, her blue eyes contrasting with her deep brown hair. 

Cat leaned in close to take a look, so he shifted a bit to make room her, all too aware of her body brushing against his.
  “There doesn’t seem to be anything obvious, though I wouldn’t really expect there to be.  They wouldn’t want to call attention to anything too obvious.”

“The room she’s in… it’s our sitting room.  I recognize the landscape shown in the window, and the detail of the wood paneling is the same.”  He looked again, taking in the details. 

Her dress was modest, though the details of the gown and the rich burgundy brocade spoke of a certain status.  A sheer lace covered her from neck to chest, though there were no other adornments.  No necklace flashing like a beacon.

“That painting there.”  Cat pointed to it in the portrait, where it hung on the wall behind the woman.  “I’ve seen it.”

She moved to where they’d propped the other pieces of art, and started looking through them.  “Right here.”

She brought it over and propped it next to the portrait.

“Aye.  So?”

“I don’t know, now do I?”
  She glared at him before turning her attention back to the matter at hand.  “The clue could be anything—a single brushstroke, a spark of light, a misplaced vase.”

“Or nothing at all.  We could be trying to find something where nothing exists.”  He hated to be the realist, but it seemed she
was always far too hopeful where the jewels were concerned.  Maybe it was the romantic in her.  She just couldn’t give up on the lovers, as if finding the Hope would somehow bring their love full circle.

“That’s true.  There could be nothing at all, or it could be right in front of us.” 

He stood up and stretched.  “I’m starving, and if I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to get grumpy.”

“
Please, then, don’t let me stop you.  ‘Cause you know you’ve been an absolute joy up until now, and I’d hate to be the reason for your souring mood.”   

The smile that tugged at her lips and the humor that danced in those green eyes sparked something primal in him.  By the gods, she made it so he couldn’t think rationally.  “Come.  Ye need to eat.”

“Do I?”  She crossed her arms and cocked her head.  “You’re so incredibly bossy.”

“Bossy, aye?
  Perhaps, but I’d rather be bossy than stubborn.”

She shrugged and tilted her head, her brow perking in a dare. 
“I’m only stubborn when I’m right.”

He had to laugh.  “
Then ye must think yerself right an awful lot, since ye’re the most stubborn lass I’ve e’er met.”

“I am not.”
She scowled.

“Ye’re right.  Ye’re not.”
  He threw his hands up in surrender. 

She pursed her lips together with
eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out whether or not she should be angry with him.  He just had to laugh.

“Come.  My
da will tan my hide if he finds out I let ye starve.”  With a hand on her back, Iain gently got her moving and steered her towards the door, not surprised when Duncan trotted past them in the hopes of a stray morsel, his ESP for all things food-related kicking into overdrive. 

He showed her through to the kitchen, flicking on
the lights in the large room.  He’d renovated the space just a few years back when the economy was good and his investments were bringing in a nice return.  They were still doing relatively well, but to avoid taking a hit with the tumbling economy, he’d tied up most of his funds, leaving him unable to sort out the current troubles his brother had caused.

Iain
went to the large stainless fridge and opened the door, poking around to see what he could whip up.  “Please tell me ye’re not a vegetarian.”

“I used to be.”

“Why am I not surprised?  Good thing ye came to yer senses.”  He flicked a glance over his shoulder, while pulling out some spicy Spanish sausage, an onion and pepper, a couple of potatoes, a chunk of cheese and a dozen eggs.

“I’m going to ignore that.”
  She gave him a hand with the ingredients he was carrying.  “Can I help you cook?”

“
Depends.  Can ye cut the sausage and pepper without chopping off a finger?” His brow perked in question as he got out a couple of knives and cutting boards.  “Cause if ye end up needing stitches, we’ll have to get Angus back here to sew ye up.”

She took
a board, a knife and the sausage, and started slicing it.  “Is Angus a doctor then?”

“Closest doctor’s an hour away.  Angus is our local vet.”  He eyed her knife skills and guessed she’d done a fair amount of cooking. 
He grabbed a pan and put it on the burner, tossing a bit of oil in to heat up while he chopped the potatoes. 

“The local vet, huh?  I guess he’d do in a pinch.
”  She smiled at him.  “He was awfully nice, but I don’t think he bought the whole couple thing.”

“No, he didn’t, though he
won’t say anything.  He knows well enough that if I’m keeping something from him, I’ve got my reasons and I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”  He tossed the thin slices of potatoes into the oil and then started on the onion.  “Tell me more about James and what happened between the two of ye.  I need to know if he believed us, or if he’s going to be snooping around and causing trouble.”

She shrugged, her knife cuts now coming
down with far more intensity.  “Even if he believed we’re a couple, it won’t make a difference to him if he thinks I may be looking for something.  As for what happened between us, that’s none of your business.”

He bit down on the words that wanted to erupt forth, and tossed the onions into the oil, giving it all a quick stir.
He took a deep breath and tried to keep the heat from his voice, annoyed that she was still keeping things from him.  “It
is
my business as long as we’re working together to find the jewels.  Now start talking.” 

  “No.” Chop. Chop. Chop.

“Cat.”  He ignored the thrum of frustration winding itself through the very fiber of his being.

“
Iain.”  More chopping. 

The sausage was now in bits.  H
e covered her knife hand with his so she’d stop hacking at the pieces, and then scooped up the meat and set it aside.  “You need to tell me, Cat.  I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious about not telling you. 
My life—private and professional—is none of your business.  He’s not violent, if that’s your concern.  What he is, is an ass, and if you want more than that, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”  She picked up the knife and started cutting the meat again, all while glaring at him. 

He saw it coming, yet h
e couldn’t get the words out fast enough to stop her.  She sliced right into her finger as he watched.  Her curses died on her lips as she sucked in air, pain lining her face as she cringed.

“
Here.  Give me yer hand.”  He grabbed a towel, and quickly wrapped it around her finger, applying as much pressure as possible while guiding her into a chair, as he kneeled in front of her.

“Blasted thing
hurts.  Let me see.” 

“Give it another minute
.”  Ignoring how tight her shoulders looked, he tried not to panic.  Why was it the bloody woman insisted on trying to get herself killed whenever in his presence?  Good thing it was just her finger and not her wrist or gut.  He steeled himself for the worst and got ready to take a look at it.  “Ye’re not going to pass out, are ye?”

“
No
.  Are you?”  Her eyebrows perked in question.

He pursed his lips in res
ponse, wondering how someone so mild-looking could be so incredibly annoying.  Pulling back the cloth, he cringed at the long gash running across her finger.  Luckily, it didn’t look too deep, though after just a heartbeat, it was bleeding again.  He covered it back up and applied pressure once more.

“It does
n’t look like ye’ll need stitches, but it’s yet to stop gushing.”  With her hand still in his, he pressed down hard.  He worried he was hurting her, her face looking more pale than before.  “Are ye all right?”

She nodded.  “Your potatoes.  They’re going to burn.”

He took her other hand and placed it over her cut.  “Apply pressure.  If we can’t get it to stop bleeding, I’ll have to get Angus back over here to stitch it closed.”

“Lovely.”

He pulled the potatoes and onions from the oil, draining them on paper towels, and then grabbed another pan and got the rest of the ingredients going.  There wasn’t any blood to clean, but he cleared her board, and tossed it into the sink along with her knife.  He felt guilty that she’d gotten hurt—especially since he was the one who’d been antagonizing her.  The least he could do is keep her from starving.

Whisking a dozen eggs, he combined all the ingredients, topped it with
some crumbled cheese and threw it into the oven.  To keep Duncan from drooling onto the floor, he tossed the pup a chunk of sausage, finished cleaning up and then turned back to Cat.

“I’ll be right back.  I need t
o get you a bandage.”  He wandered down the hall and headed for the bathroom, when he thought he heard something in the library.  Duncan was still in the kitchen, but maybe…  “Da?  Are ye back?”

Nothing. 
He changed direction, and went to investigate. It all looked the way they’d left it—or so he thought, since he hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the exact placement of things.  He went to the large casement windows that overlooked the stone patio and flicked on the outdoor lights.  It all seemed normal, and yet… something seemed off. 

The flower box in front of the window—it was no longer hanging where it should, but rather knocked to the ground, the soil and plants
scattered.  And there—wet footprints tracked across the pavers from the damp grass.  The window had been locked though, so they hadn’t made it in.

Or had they? 
The doors and windows—were they all locked? 

Cat.

He raced to the kitchen, bursting into the room and quickly taking it all in, his heart thundering in his ears.  “Are ye all right?”

“I’m fine.  What’s happened?”  Her eyes went wide with alarm, as she got to her feet and came to his side.

“Someone was at the library window.  They may have tried to get in, though I don’t know for sure.  Stay here.  I’ve got to check the doors and windows.  Make sure everything’s locked.”  By the gods, it’d be close to impossible to check every window and door, especially in the older parts of the manor.

“I want to come with you.”

He wanted to groan and tell her to stay put, but knowing how long he might stand there arguing with her, he gave in.  “Come on then.”

They started with the first floor, in the portion of the home they were still living in.  It all seemed secure, though once more, they found footprints
outside several more of the windows. 

“I think they were just snooping around
, and the main part of the house is locked up.” Iain nodded towards her hand.  “Let’s get that finger seen to.  I can check out the older parts of the home once we get that settled.”

He thought she looked shaken, and if he had any doubt, her silence was enough to tell him he wasn’t wrong.  He grabbed the box of bandages and ointment, and sat her down, taking her hand in his.  “Let’s take a look.”

The bleeding looked like it’d stopped.  He gently squeezed some antibiotic ointment onto her cut, and then carefully bandaged it, making sure there was enough pressure applied to the wound to keep the cut from reopening while still allowing for proper circulation.

“Looks like you’ve done this before.”

“Aye, well, I usually took care of my brother’s scrapes when he didn’t want my parents finding out he’d gotten himself into trouble.”  Clearly, not much had changed.  “I’m going to take care of the rest of the house.  I think whoever it was is long gone, but if you could draw the curtains in the library and get settled there, I’ll not be long.”

He took off
and headed to the kitchen, pulling out his frittata just in the nick of time.  With the oven off, he then locked down the rest of the home.  The feeling of being watched made him angry, and left him feeling violated.  Truth was, he was worried.  Other than his brother’s recent troubles, he’d never had reason to worry about his family’s safety before, and it wasn’t a feeling he was comfortable with.  Though he might be overly paranoid, it didn’t take a genius to know people had killed for a lot less than a bejeweled necklace of legend. 

He called his father on his mobile phone, and told him to stay
with his friends for the night, reassuring him that all was well.  And it was.  Everything was locked and secured, the curtains drawn.  There was nothing to worry about.  Or so he hoped.