My Seductive Highlander (7 page)

Graham shoved the door of the hideous monstrosity open and rolled out to the blessed stability of the ground.
Demons be damned.
He crouched on all fours; the hard sheet of stone stretched in front of Lilia's house bit into his palms and knees.

Great sucking gulps of the early morning air helped settle his churning innards—some.
May the gods help me
. His stomach groaned out a nauseating gurgle. What the hell had the world come to—forsaking horses for such unholy wagons surely fashioned by the devil himself.

Angus stumbled free of the metal chariot, his face drawn and pale as he echoed Graham's unspoken thoughts, “I canna believe they gave up horses for such a thing as that.”

Alberti grinned as he rounded the beast, jingling the keys in one hand. “There now, chaps. Your first ride in an automobile wasn't all that bad, now, was it?”

If he wasna so goddamned ill, he'd knock that grinnin' bastard on his arse. Instead, Graham sucked in another lungful of air and huffed it out his mouth. May the gods strike him dead afore he e'er had to ride in such a thing again.

The house door rattled and hinges squeaked. Graham lifted his head and blinked.
Damned, if she isna an angel descending from the verra heavens themselves
.

Her long white tunic was belted at her waist while her silky blonde hair tumbled across her shoulders. Barefooted, Lilia scurried down the front steps and crouched down beside him. The soft weight of her hand upon his shoulder nearly made him groan aloud. He breathed in another deep breath, forever memorizing the delicate sweetness of her scent. Damn, she surely
was
an angel sent to save his battered soul.

Lilia wrinkled her nose, sympathy flashing in her green-eyed gaze. “Bad first ride in the car, I see. I saw your exit through the window. Here. Inhale this oil of peppermint. It'll help settle your stomach.”

Graham thumbed the cork free of the small glass vial, put it to his face, and breathed in—deep. The bile burning at the back of his throat gradually calmed to a tolerable level. “Thank ye, mistress.” He passed the tiny glass over to Angus. “Breathe it in, lad. It helps.”

Angus grabbed the bottle and snorted in a deep breath. “From now on, we walk. Or find a horse. Ne'er again will I get in such a contraption.”

“Agreed.” Graham nodded as he turned back to Lilia's concerned gaze. “Thank ye for the healing oil. I feel much better.” Or maybe 'twas the mere sight of her smile that had settled him and made him whole.

Graham slowly rose then held out a hand to help Lilia to her feet.

Lilia cast a dubious look at his extended hand then quickly rose without touching him.

Disappointment weighed heavily in his chest. She didna wish to touch him. She feared the strange connection they'd discovered last night.
Aye.
He supposed he couldna fault her for bein' a wee bit leery. Mother Sinclair's words rang clear in his mind.
Lilia thinks allowing anyone to help her is a sign of failure. She's a stubborn hellcat.
Well…stubborn hellcat or no', Mistress Lilia was meant to be his. And he intended t'make damn certain that it came to pass. The surety of the thought surprised him.
Aye. I want this woman
.
I want her for m'verra own.

“Come inside. I've got some coffee made and Vivienne is attempting to bake some scones but I wouldn't get my hopes up about those if I were you.” Lilia gathered her robe higher above her bare feet and padded up the walkway ahead of them. When she reached the top of the stone steps, she turned back. “Alberti, are you coming inside or are you going straight to check on the shops?”

“Straight to the shops, lovie.” Alberti cast a pointed gaze at Graham and Angus then turned back to the car. “Call me if ye need me. Or have Vivienne give me a ring. I can be back here at a moment's notice.”

The man called her
lovie
? In front of him? Graham glared back at Alberti. He'd tend t'that insult later when Lilia was no' about. “She'll no' be needin' the likes of ye. I can assure ye of that well enough.”

He didna ken what it was about that man, but he didna like him. Alberti acted as though he had some sort of rights over Mistress Lilia. The fool had best get that thought out of his head this verra second. Graham stomped up the steps past Lilia, slid his hand past hers to the door latch, and pushed it open for her. “Allow me, mistress.”

Lilia's eyes narrowed. “Don't think you can be snarky with my friends then sugarcoat it with chivalry. I'm not stupid.”

Again, Graham breathed in the sweet fragrance of her, steeling himself against the urge to bury his face in the silky tresses tumbling about her neck. Memorizing aromas was a carryover from his days as a dragon. Even if struck blind, he'd ken Lilia by her unforgettable scent. “I'd ne'er be foolish enough to think ye stupid.” And he wouldna. He'd been around the other Sinclair women enough to ken that ye damn well best be on yer toes whenever they were about.

Lilia gave him a look that nearly made him laugh out loud.
Aye and for sure. Mother Sinclair didna lie. This one is a hellcat.
He could see it in her eyes. “Yer family sends their love and they truly did send me here to watch o'er ye.”

“I'm fully capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.” Lilia led the way down the hall to the small kitchen. She unhooked four cups from beneath the cabinets and lined them up beside a strange gurgling machine steaming on the counter. “And you can tell them that when you and Angus go back.”

Stubborn one, eh?
She'd soon find out he could be a mite stubborn too. “Angus and I will no' be goin' back. Ye'd best learn that straightaway.” Graham eased closer and lightly tapped a finger across the top of her hand. “We are here. To stay. With yerself.”

Lilia blinked up at him, green eyes so wide and dark he thought he'd surely drown in their depths. He leaned in closer, mesmerized by her parted lips, their soft pinkness bidding him to steal a wee taste of her seductive sweetness.

“Crap on crackers!” Metal clanged, a heavy door slammed, and smoke filled the far end of the kitchen.

Whirling out of Graham's reach, Lilia scooted across the room. “Are you all right? What did you do?”

Vivienne bobbed up and down between the stove, the floor, and the sink, plucking up black smoking bits of bread with a set of tongs and flinging them into the sink. “Run some water on those damn things before they burst into flames.” She waved the tongs toward Graham and Angus. “Open the windows and the doors before the fire alarm goes off.”

“What the hell is a fire alarm?” Angus yanked open the back door, propping it open with a brick.

“I dinna ken.” Graham studied the latch of the kitchen window for a moment, thumbed it free then shoved the window open. He grabbed a towel and fanned away the smoke.

“Well, shit.” Vivienne tossed the tongs in the sink and scowled down at the ruined bread. “So much for a homemade breakfast.” She wiggled her fingers toward Angus then jerked her head toward the door. “Come on, handsome. How do ye feel about comin' with me? We'll run and fetch breakfast for everyone.”

Angus visibly swallowed hard then wiped his palms against his plaid. “When ye say run…do ye mean
run
or are ye suggesting we travel in one of those gut-wrenchin' monstrosities?”

Vivienne laughed as she scooped the strap of her purse up over one shoulder. “The bakery is just around the corner and it's a beautiful day. We can walk.”

Angus's face lit up and he bobbed his head. Gallantly extending his arm, he politely bowed. “Aye then, allow me, m'lady. 'Twould be me honor to escort ye.”

Giggling as she pecked a kiss against Lilia's cheek, Vivienne winked at Graham. “We won't hurry back. I'm sure you two have a lot to chat about.”

Graham nodded. Wise lass, this woman was. “Aye. That we do.”

As Vivienne and Angus left the kitchen, Lilia shot Graham a
go to hell
look that made him laugh out loud. He held out a hand and nodded toward the table. “Come now, lass. Let us sit and get to know one another better.”

Lilia pointedly brushed past his hand and padded back to the cups she'd lined up on the counter. “How do you like your coffee?” She pulled a pitcher free of the strange silver machine and poured the ominous-looking black liquid into two of the cups.

“Coffee?” Graham repeated. The stuff looked like pitch, a bit on the watery side but pitch just the same. He pulled out a chair from the table and eased down into it. “I canna say that I've ever had such a drink.”

Lilia set two steaming cups on the table then yanked open the door to an enormous silver box filled with an unearthly light and racks full of colorful items. Some things he recognized—most of them, he did not.

Lilia emerged with a tiny pitcher no bigger than her hand. She set it on the table beside a matching covered bowl and metal spoon. “Then you're in for a treat. I'll doctor your coffee like Granny used to do mine when I was a little girl.”

Graham watched with interest as Lilia poured what looked to be cream into the black liquid, turning it a swirling, rich caramel color. Then she added two heaping spoonfuls of a granular-looking powder and stirred. She smiled as she eased the cup toward him. “Try it. It's just like Granny used to make.”

Graham cautiously sipped the steaming concoction, pleasantly surprised at the sweet creamy taste. He returned the cup to the table in front of him. “Verra nice, indeed. I thank ye.” The silence of the kitchen stretched into long uncomfortable minutes.
Lore a'mighty, what should I say to the lass to win her?
He knew how to charm his way into a lass's bed, but he'd be damned if he knew how to claim a woman's heart.
Perhaps if I speak of her family. Aye—that be it.

“Yer wee niece Chloe bade me tell ye that Masters Jamie, Caeden, and wee Rabbie dinna deserve any presents from ye this year. She said the lot of them are wicked little beasties that deserve nothin' more than havin' their arses tanned.” Graham's heart warmed at Lilia's quick bubbling giggle.
Lore, the sound of the woman's laugh is sweeter than a Highland spring tricklin' down the mountain.

“Need their arses tanned?” Lilia chuckled even more before easing in another sip of coffee. “Did Chloe really use that term or are you embellishing?”

Graham placed his right hand over his heart. “I swear to ye the wee minx used those verra words. She's none too fond of her little brother, Rabbie, nor her two cousins since the day they made off with her favorite doll and tossed it down the garderobe.”

“They're not even three years old yet. Wasn't Coira watching them?” Lilia went to the cabinet and pulled out a yellow box. She slid her finger around the edge, pulled back the lid, and slid it to the table. “Shortbread cookies. Perfect with coffee.”

Graham chuckled. “I think poor Coira is stretched a wee bit thin of late managing that herd of lively bairns.” He pulled free one of the cookies, studied it for a moment, then popped it in his mouth.
Not bad
. He pointed back to the box. “Ye've a fine cook able to bake such treats.”

“Store bought.” Lilia waved a hand across the opened box of cookies. “I don't cook and neither does Vivienne—obviously.” She leaned her chin against her fist and smiled. “Tell me more about everyone back at the keep. I miss them. I haven't been able to hop back in quite a while and the fire portal just isn't the same as being there.” She quickly looked down into her cup but not before Graham noticed the sheen of unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

“Why do ye stay here…in this time?” Graham had always wondered what had kept the last Sinclair woman from joining her family in the past.

Lilia frowned down at the table, one finger lightly tracing the rim of her cup. “Have you ever just
known
something was supposed to be a certain way? I mean…just felt it in your heart without really knowing why?” Lilia looked up at him with a troubled look, brow furrowed and eyes pleading for him to understand.

“Aye.” Graham reached over and smoothed a forefinger lightly across the back of her knuckles, silently wishing he could brush away her troubles just as easily. “I have. Much like our being together.” He kent damn good and well she'd felt that same energy the first time they'd touched. That energy that said both their souls had been matched long ago and were destined to be reunited.

Lilia took in a deep breath, staring down at his finger lightly stroking her hand. “I'm not talking about us. I think I'm meant to stay in this time. Granny even said she felt it.” She ducked her head and pulled her hand away, taking a quick sip of her coffee then shrugging as she lowered the cup back to the table. “And anyway, I know for certain I can't leave here until Eliza moves on.”

“Tell me of this Eliza.” Graham scooted his chair closer, reclaimed her hand, and brought the cool softness of her fingers to his lips. His heart soared then pounded harder when she didn't pull away this time. The tingling jolt of their earlier touch was gone but the warm soothing connection—the deep knowing in his soul—still held strong.
Aye.
This woman was meant to be his. He'd ne'er felt anything like this before.

A sad smile pulled at Lilia's mouth as her gaze dropped and seemed fixed on something only she could see. “Eliza MacTavish has been my guardian angel, my confidante, and my source of sanity for a long time now.” Lilia's voice broke and she hitched in a shaking breath as she closed her eyes. “And I can't imagine life without her. I don't know what I'm going to do when she dies.”

Graham rose from his chair and knelt in front of Lilia. “Ye'll not be alone. I'll see to it yer never alone. I swear it, ye ken?” His heart ached at the pain reflected in her eyes. He reached and gently cupped her face in his palm, smoothing his thumb across her cheek.
She sheds no tears
.
Such strength…such fear to be seen as weak.
Graham inched closer, sliding his fingertips into the silkiness of her hair.
She keeps her pain inside and willna share it.
“Let me in, lass. Let go of yer pain. I can ease yer troubles if ye'll but let me in so I can take the pain away.”