A Highlander's Obsession (Highlander's Beloved) (12 page)

Creighton dropped to his hunkers, his faded jeans strained across muscled thighs. “The oldest part, which includes the keep and battlements, was built in the twelve hundreds, followed by the great hall and minstrels’ gallery. Every century or so, we add on more rooms.” He pivoted on the balls of his feet to grab more logs to place on the fire. Bulky muscles across his shoulders and back rippled beneath his brown turtleneck.

Bark on the firewood popped as mounting orange flames raced toward the chimney. The shimmering blaze played shadow games across his profile, causing his dark hair, brushing his shoulders, to shine like a raven in the sunlight. Thick wrists draped across his bulky knees. Everything about the man seemed a few degrees larger than normal. A log shifted and rolled out of the hearth. He shoved it back where it belonged and wiped his hands on his jeans as he stood.

“There’s a strong sense of family within these ancient stone walls. Our sainted ancestors roam the halls at night, keeping us safe.”

After all she’d heard downstairs, did Creighton think he could put her at ease by telling her ghosts would see to her safety? Shape-shifters
and
ghosts? Oh, she was so heading home as soon as she could.

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “You mean Broden and Ainsley?”

Her host stared at her for a few seconds, then moved in front of her. “No need to be
frightened.”

His blunt fingertips tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and her body quivered at his touch. Her nipples peaked and wetness pooled.

“I’ve told ye our ghosts are harmless. In fact, I have a feeling it was they who placed the heather and tartan in yer room. For some reason, they wanted to welcome ye to their castle.”

Oh my God. There were ghosts in my bedroom? I’m leaving for home in the morning
. Was that what she wanted? To leave Scotland so soon, without seeing more of the countryside? Or getting to know this mountain of a man before her? She doubted she’d ever meet anyone like him again.

Creighton waved toward the sofa. “Have a seat and ask me yer questions. Let’s get to the heart of the matter.”

She settled into the corner of the sofa, and Creighton filled the remaining space when he sat, his muscular thigh touching hers, conveying his warmth and sexual appeal. He draped an arm across the back of the sofa. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she tried not to notice the mega dose of testosterone he exuded from every pore, but had little luck.

Gram always taught her to demand answers when a question plagued her. Because she feared what he might say, she clasped her hands so hard they hurt. “How much of what Ronan said was true?”

His dark eyes bore into hers. “All of it, lassie.”

“All?” The room spun twice and she gripped the padded armrest of the sofa.
Oh dear God
. She and her grandma were staying in a castle full of lunatics, who believed they could change from human to bear in the blink of an eye. If it weren’t so damned scary, she’d laugh. Fear’s coldness slithered up her spine. What if these strange people wouldn’t allow them to leave?

They were in the wilds of northeastern Scotland, a good hour from an airport, with no means of transportation. How would they reach the town of Inverness if the Mathesons refused to provide a car?

Paisley fought for her next breath. Black and grey spots splattered like toxic raindrops across her vision field. “Please let us go …”

The seat cushions shifted beneath her and a large hand wrapped around her neck, pushing her head down. Another hand coiled at her upper arm. “Put yer head between yer knees, lassie.
Breathe now. In. Out. In. Out.”

She fought to restore her normal breathing pattern. Yet the same thought kept flitting through her mind. These people thought they could change form, shape-shift just like in the movies. How crazy was that?
As crazy as my being able to hear animals
.

Her frightened mental hamster stopped running on its treadmill.

Wasn’t that why she shared with few people that she was an animal communicator? Because they would freak, just like she was right now? Yet the fact was, talking to animals was her reality. Could shifting be part of theirs? No. No, it couldn’t be. Once she regained some control, she straightened and regarded his furrowed brows and the thin line of his lips.

“Are ye feeling better? I didna mean to frighten ye.”

“Show me.” By golly, she’d force his hand. If he thought he could shift, then he could damn well do it in front of her.

“Pardon?”

She stood and glared at him as determination straightened her spine. No more fears. No more hyperventilating. “If you can shift from man to bear, do it. Do it now.”

His black eyebrows rose. “Are ye challengin’ me, then, lassie?”

She crossed her arms and hiked her chin. “Aye, lad, I’m challengin’ ye.” She imitated his thick burr.

Creighton slowly stood, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smile. “Oh, ’tis a handful, ye are. Such a bold request deserves a bit of honesty.” He reached behind him, grabbed a handful of sweater and tugged it over his head. Tossing it aside, he reached to unbutton his jeans.

“Wh … what are you doing?”
My God, look at those muscles. What would it be like to run my hands over them?
Alex kept his torso waxed, but Creighton had a pelt of dark hair over his pecs, narrowing into a wide treasure trail leading toward the open button on his pants.

“These are me favorite jeans. If I shift in ’em, I’ll rip ’em to shreds. Shifting is best done naked.”

Naked? Her gaze shifted from his fingers at his fly to his face to gauge his expression. Was he trying to scare her? Or was he using this as an excuse to show her his package? Either way, he wasn’t scaring her off. She’d had enough of this fairy-tale nonsense. “Go ahead. I’m waiting. Shift for me.”

His head tilted to the side and humor twinkled in his dark eyes. “Turn yer back.”

“Why? Are you shy? What’s wrong, big guy? Afraid to show me your Scottish bagpipe? Are ye built like a moose and hung like a mouse?” She hadn’t lived with her grandmother all these years without learning how to throw a few quips.

His eyes widened for a beat and then narrowed. She’d evidently goaded him a little too far. He toed off his shoes. “I’m not afraid of any bloody thing.” His jaw clenched as he spoke and his eyes sparked something dangerous at her challenge. “Ye want to see a Scottish bagpipe? I’ll damn well show ye.” With a couple swift jerks he shucked his jeans and black boxers. In a fit of male pride, he fisted his hands on his narrow naked hips and glared straight ahead. “Well, lassie, what say ye? Moose or mouse?”

Damn! No mouse there
. A jolt of desire warmed her for the first time that day, from the outside in and then, after coiling low in her belly, from the inside out. Sensations she’d never experienced before nearly set her on fire. Silly, really, since she’d seen Alex naked before. What was so special about this man—other than everything? Longing rendered her speechless as visions of the two of them entwined seduced her mind and soul.

Sensual visions clouded her eyesight as waves of heat rippled before her. Creighton seemed to shimmer and spin. She blinked several times to bring him back into focus, then closed her eyes for a few seconds, hoping that would clear her vision. Something popped repeatedly, as if he were cracking his knuckles. When she opened her eyes, she stumbled back and gasped.

A large bear stood before her.

Holy hell!

Aye, Paisley, holy hell. Ye are the first human I’ve revealed meself to and I dinna do it lightly
.

She filled her lungs with a deep breath and willed her nerves to settle. Seconds earlier this bear had been human. Her frightened heartbeat pounded in her ears. It would be best to think of that later. Perhaps when she was alone in her bedroom.
Creighton?

Aye
.

She stepped closer. His size dwarfed her.
May I touch you?
Although she should be afraid of this huge bear, she harbored no fear, only inquisitiveness.

Aye
.

Her fingers skimmed the wiry fur on his chest. The scent of wildness and Creighton’s
woodsy aftershave mingled in the air. She stroked his coat.
You’ve got just a little of this dark fur on your naked chest when you’re in man form. Oh God, am I really seeing this? Do shape-shifters truly exist, or have I gone mad?

Nay, my sweet one, ye are not mad. Ye’ve been given a rare gift. The knowledge of how our dual existence works
.

Man and bear in one soul
. Both of her hands drifted up his fur to his massive shoulders.

His ears tipped forward and the area around his nose twitched and beat as if he were inhaling her odor too.
Are ye frightened?

She shook her head, surprised at her acceptance of what she saw, felt, and heard.
No. You don’t frighten me as a bear
. She peered into eyes that glowed golden.
As a man, you scare the hell out of me, though
.

One of his paws reached for her and settled gently on her cheek, its claws retracted within the fur.
What I’ve shown ye is between the two of us. No one else must know. Especially yer grandmother. Do I have yer word?

She pushed her glasses up her nose again and nodded.
You have my word
.

Hand me the jeans and boxers. I’ll shift back
.

By the time she righted his inside out jeans and handed them to him, Creighton was in human form again, wearing his boxers.

“Does it hurt? Shifting?”

He yanked the jeans over his hips. “Only for a few seconds.” His zipper rasped closed.

She flopped onto the sofa and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I can’t believe I saw what I saw. You were man one minute and animal the next. Did that
really
happen or am I dreaming all this?” She looked at him. “That could explain it, couldn’t it? This is some kind of bizarre jet-lag dream. Not insanity, but a dream. After all, we were up until the wee hours yesterday morning with Heather Mist and her foals. I’ve had very little sleep in the last seventy-two hours.”

There’d been so many times she feared she’d lost her mind. Perhaps this was just another one to add to the long list. Only as freaky as all this had been, it would shoot right to the top of her weird meter.

He plunged both arms into the sleeves of his sweater and grasped the back to pull it over his head. “If what ye saw will cause ye stress, I’ll erase the memory from yer mind.” He ducked
his head into the garment and tugged it down.

“Erase?” Her hands lifted and then fell to her lap. “Oh, sure, why the hell not?”
I have lost my ever-lovin’ mind
.

He settled on the sofa and slipped on his shoes. “I’ve been more than forthcoming. I’ve allowed ye to witness something no one else has. Now, ’tis time ye started being honest with me. Ye can read me thoughts when I’m in bear form. Is that the only time?” Gold flecks in his dark eyes shone when he studied her reaction to his question.

Crackling wood in the hearth snagged Paisley’s attention for a moment. If he thought her unbalanced, so be it. She exhaled a long sigh and stared into his eyes.

“No. I can hear your thoughts, but not within the walls of this castle.” A shudder swept through her. “Well, except for our first night staying here, when you and I talked in your office.”

He nodded and ran a hand down his face. “Yes, I recall losing some control to the bear within. Can ye read everyone’s thoughts?”

Oh God, this wasn’t going to be easy. She clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. “I rarely talk about this to just anyone. Too afraid of not being believed, I suppose.” She stared into his eyes. His facial features were relaxed even though his thick eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. Thoughts of her parents’ negative response and dismissal slammed into her. “Or of being rejected.”

A warm hand, nearly the size of a Virginia ham, covered hers. “I can understand yer fears. I promise I willna think less of ye. Do ye think less of me after seeing what just happened?”

“No.” She blinked a few times, recalling it all. “No, I don’t. Sharing mental thoughts with you almost seemed normal.” Why was that?

His thumb rubbed slow circles over her knuckles. “Self-acceptance is an important thing, lassie. We have to love ourselves for what and who we are before anyone else can love us.”

He seemed to identify with the differences that had isolated her for over half of her life. “I was twelve the first time I heard an animal’s thoughts.” She shifted in her seat, drawing her feet beside her, slipping her toes between the cushion and the arm of the chintz sofa. “My dog had a thorn in his paw and he told me about it.” She gauged his reaction. The almost imperceptible rise in his eyebrows encouraged her to continue. “I thought it was the neatest thing to have happen.” The continual stroking of his thumb over her hand relaxed her. “Until I told my
parents …”

The pressure from his hand increased and he entwined his fingers with hers, an intimate yet welcome gesture. “They didna understand.”

Tears scalded the backs of her eyes and she shook her head, not sure she could respond without revealing the pain she carried.

In an unexpected move, Creighton put his arm around her and drew her to him, over his lap so they were chest to chest. “Not everyone understands the gifts of others.” He sighed. “Or the curses one’s been saddled with. Do ye hear the thoughts of all animals?” Both arms wound around her, holding her in the hushed embrace of his strength, punctuated only by his deep breathing and the steady beat of his heart.

She nodded against his hard chest, relaxing for the first time that day. For some reason, home came to mind. She felt as if she’d come home in this man’s arms. As if this was where she’d always belonged.
Don’t go there. Don’t even go there. You’ll soon be leaving and will never see him again
.

When she pulled back to gaze at him, he further surprised her by cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing her bottom lip. “Tell me all of it, so I can help ye,
leannan
.”

“I am what people call ‘an animal communicator.’ When veterinarians have an animal they can’t diagnose or handle, they call me. I travel all over the country to find out what’s bothering animals. Sometimes it’s a physical ailment. Sometimes it’s emotional.”