Chapter One

Scottish Highlands 1747

The last two years following the battle of Culloden had been turbulent ones for the residence of the highlands. Connal McKenna as head of the clan Chattan somehow managed to maintain neutrality between the combatant Jacobites and the English. As a clan they united in choosing neither side. A few individuals chose to fight with the Jacobites. There were not enough for the English to turn their hatred and vengeance against the entire clan. Still, the English patrolled the area searching for any man who might have fought against them. If found, they would be taken into custody.

Rumors abounded about a group of men who helped the wanted Jacobites escape Scotland to sail to America where they could live in relative freedom. No one knew for sure, however. No one could proffer a name. Part of the gossip revolved around a member of Parliament leading the cause. As far as Connal McKenna, head of clan Chattan, was concerned, it was all hearsay.

Brady McKenna, the oldest son of Connal and Wynnie, sat in a room adjoining the kitchen sipping a glass of ale. Relaxed, in his prime he searched for diversions, more exactly in the form of a pretty highland lass. His gaze was focused through the doorway on a newcomer, her hands deep in bread dough, flour smudged on her cheeks as well as the tip of her nose. Her eyes were the clearest softest blue, her cheeks, stained pink from exertion coupled with the excessive heat of the kitchen. Her golden-reddish hair was piled high on top of her head, a scarf wrapped and tied to keep the strands from falling into her face. He wondered what her hair would look like unbound, how it would feel against his naked flesh or if he threaded his fingers in the silken mass. She was tall for a woman, slender, almost too much to be attractive to Brady. She was though. He couldn’t keep from gazing at her almost to the point of drooling. Her pale gray dress did little to reveal but was adept at concealing what curves she might possess. The apron she wore, however, hinted of a tiny waist. Still, there was a certain striking quality surrounding her, a haughty air that belied her status as a serving wench. Her back was straight, her chin held high pushing her nose into the air.

She was a puzzle to be figured out, his to put together one small piece at a time. Ah, but he looked forward to the solving, to the piecing together. Ach, whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye. Of course, what will happen, will happen. Brady meant it to happen sooner than later.

Tonight would be nice.

He was an impatient man.

Until recently the clan accepted newcomers into their midst on a trial basis. Now, after the battle that left much of Scotland impoverished, Connal, the McKenna laird, was reluctant to even allow a wide-eyed innocent lass gain access to the castle and the lands. So, how did this particular female manage to secure a position inside the security of the castle walls no less? It was another puzzle for him to solve.

Roby, his brother, sat down beside him, a grin painting his starkly handsome face. His dark hair too long, his steel gray eyes sparkling he swiped away several strands that had fallen into his eyes. With a nod he began, “You seem distant this afternoon. What’s got you staring into the kitchen with that besotted look on your face? It appears you mean to devour that sweet lass. She looks to be a tender morsel indeed, too innocent for you or me for that matter.”

“What look?” Brady grinned, lowering his lashes in an attempt to keep at least a few of his seething emotions private. He understood exactly what his brother implied.

“That besotted expression you always get when you’ve seen a new conquest. Doubt if the lady stands a chance against you when you’ve set your sights on her,” Roby said following the line of Brady’s sight one more time. Then with a bland tone belying the light in his silver-gray eyes, “She doesn’t look like one of your normal ladies. Not curvy enough, breasts a wee bit too small for your usual taste. You don’t usually go for chicken breasted women.”

“And what type of lady do I prefer?” Brady’s voice was flat as the thought that Roby was correct in his assessment flashed through him.

Nor, at this moment was she readily available. His father frowned on dalliances with the hired help. Discretion would be the word if he decided to pursue the woman. Ah, if he first installed her as his mistress, his father would have no problems with what would be a short-lived infatuation. She was going to be his.

“Well,” Roby leaned back, stretching his legs out, one arm negligently propped on the empty chair next to him, looking much the same as his older brother, thoughtfully stroking his chin, “short, lots of curves and blond,” he paused then for breath, “Big bubbies too. That’s what you usually prefer.”

A frown marred Brady’s face, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the chit again. Hell, she was nothing like the women he typically favored. So, what was it about her that drew his interest? Fascinated him? He grinned when she made a face, her nose crinkling, her lips parting slightly. She was unique. It was the differences that intrigued him.

She turned her head just then, sneezing. Most likely from the flour on the end of her nose. With the back of her hand, she wiped her forehead, more flour arrived on her tiny, perfectly shaped face. He realized it was a perfect oval.

He chuckled, amused by the scene.

“What’s her name? Do you ken it?” Brady asked, turning to his brother in an attempt to put the lady out of his sight if not out of his mind at least until he discovered more about her. It wouldn’t do for him to claim his feelings just yet.

“You really that interested?” Roby sounded surprised then in an ordinary tone. “Lillian Townsend.”

“Sassenach.”

“True, still she is striking in looks. It’s too bad she is English. Father told me she’s living in the Fraser cottage.” At his quick look of surprise and a shrug of his broad masculine shoulders, “She says she’s a Fraser? The family hasn’t been around in years. Heard tell one of them fought for the Jacobites. Father wouldn’t want any of the clan settling into this area. Only bring trouble. So, what do you think he is doing? This is a puzzle to decipher.”

Another riddle.

“She’s lying, keeping secrets.”

Brady was suddenly determined to discover what else the lady was not saying. Even though she intrigued and captivated him, he didn’t trust her. Lust was never a reason to put oneself in danger. There was something else going on here. He would have to proceed with caution. By the way she kneaded the dough, she didn’t truly ken how to do it. The kitchen was not a place she was used to. Homes of grandeur might well be her preferred domain.

“Suppose she probably is,” Roby agreed with a smirk on his face. “Suppose you’re going to make it your mission to find out what she hasn’t told the laird. This should be entertaining to watch.”

“That is a distinct possibility.” Brady rose from the table.

Without looking back his long strides took him outside the castle walls. Curiosity driving him, he headed in the direction of the Fraser cottage eager to add to his knowledge about Miss Lillian Townsend, Sassenach. No one had lived there for almost fifteen years. The place should be run down and dirty, uninhabitable. If she was destitute and had to work in the kitchen, why wouldn’t she live within the castle where it was safer and cleaner? There were rooms available for the servants. A woman shouldn’t be alone, shouldn’t be walking the narrow dark paths at night.

His fists clenched.

Anger simmered.

Fifteen minutes later he strolled around the small home, stroking his chin as different thoughts filled his head. First, he walked the perimeter then knocked on the door. A polite reflex, he chuckled since she was at work. When no one answered, he pushed open the unlocked door, discovering the door had no lock. He didn’t expect the barrier to swing open with a turn of the knob. Neither did it have a bar to place over the opening to keep unwanted intruders like him from entering when she was at home, presumably alone.

He meant to make sure he was the only trespasser into her life.

Blood pounding furiously at her ignorance or nonchalance about her safety for a few seconds he stared around the room. The Frasers must have left everything behind when they moved. The place was clean, the furniture old and worn. He strode into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers to find utensils, plates and cups for two.

For two people? Roby said nothing about a second person. His annoyance as well as his curiosity blindsided him. Obviously, he cared too much. He would have to rectify both, her oblivious innocence as well as how much concern he harbored for the lass.

A broom. She had a broom. Well, the floor was clean and tidy. What more could a woman want than a broom?

He strolled into the bedroom. There was a large bed with warm quilts and pillows. The sight caused carnal thoughts to flow through his head as he pictured her long length stretched out on the bed eagerly waiting for him. When he closed his eyes, he could see her, entangled within his arms, her thick hair flowing down her back, wrapped sinuously around him. In the far corner a massive trunk sat. When he lifted the lid, he saw it was filled with gowns. Gowns in silk, satin and velvet. He delved deeper. There were all sorts of frilly frothy underclothing, corsets too. When he stared at her earlier, he would have sworn she wore only a chemise beneath her worn and very serviceable gray gown. A gown that did little to flatter her body.

He sat on the bed, running his hands through his hair, thinking, wondering at what he discovered.

What to make of it?

Still deep in thought, Brady wandered back to the main room. In the fireplace a stew simmered in a huge pot. Picking up a ladle, he stirred and tasted, examined the meat. Rabbit. When the hell did she have time to hunt and snare food to eat?

Clearly, she wasn’t alone. A husband? A lover? His gut clenched at the thought of another man sharing her life. For the immediate future, he wanted her exclusively in his life. He would have to make sure this male in her life would be well persuaded to leave her alone.

A month earlier about ten red coats had ridden through here, searching. It seemed they never quit looking for Jacobites. They found no one. Brady knew there were rumors though, gossip that a handful of traitors were living near here in the woods. The last thing his family wanted were English soldiers traipsing over their land, enslaving people of the clan, discovering just how different they truly were. If that happened there would be no privacy, no way to shift and run wild over the heather throughout the ragged hills and cliffs. They would all be prisoners within their homes.

He was shaking his head as he turned toward the castle when a movement caught his eye. Stopping, he waited, holding his breath, sensing that whomever he thought he saw was doing the same.

For a moment his breath caught in his throat, his heart stopping. “Roby.”

His brother grinned at him. “Thought I’d keep you out of trouble. Didn’t like the way you looked when you headed out the door. Sure does look deserted doesn’t it? What did you discover?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Brady said dryly, watching, hoping he would find the second person in this scenario.

Wishing there was no one else. From what he’d seen of her so far, her entire life was a lie.

“Well, you don’t have to be sarcastic.” Roby stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat as he fell into stride beside him. “Just here to help or give a second opinion, asked or not. I’m your eyes and ears so you can continue to think with your cock.”

“Lillian does not live here by herself. She has a man with her if the rabbit simmering in the pot is any indication along with two place settings of everything.”

“Nay, you’ve got that piece of information wrong. Heard father saying he sent her the rabbit with his blessings. Would help her with food until she was able to fend for herself.”

Brady wasn’t sure why he felt a small lift to his heart. He didn’t like to think of her sleeping with someone or hiding someone either. The only person she was going to sleep with in the near future was him. If she was hiding someone, when caught the soldiers would imprison her just as quickly calling her a traitor as they would a man. Even though she was English through and through, they wouldn’t care. They meant to make sure the past rebellion was completely squashed. There would be no upstarts to the English throne.

By the time he returned to the kitchen, she was nowhere to be seen. It was just as well. His emotions were in turmoil. He wasn’t at all sure what he would say to her when he did get the chance to speak with her and he would. There was no question in his mind he would talk to her. The only question was when.

When he walked into the main room, his uncle Alistair was with his father deep in discussion. Kit, Alistair’s middle son, occupied a chair nearby. He sat down beside them, listening. Much of their conversation was the same. Now their discussions were always about when they would have their first grandson or daughter. Who would be first? None of their children were married yet. Not even his sister who was of age. Problem was she needed to find her mate. Perhaps their father should send her to Glasgow or Edinburgh for a period so she could come out. A frivolous event that to Brady had no real meaning. All the debutants lined up, fluttering their fans coquettishly, blinking their lashes, until the man of their dreams swept them into his arm.

Foolishness.

Brady sat next to his father, unwilling to waste time listening to their idle, meaningless chat. He blurted, impolitely interrupting, “What do you know about Lillian Townsend? Why is she here?”

Is she keeping a man with her in the cottage?

Connal slowly turned his gaze to his oldest son, his brows drawn together, clearly displeased with the untimely interruption. “I don’t believe that is any of your business, son. Unless she wishes to say anything directly to you it is not my place to tell tales. I gave her permission to live in the Fraser cottage for as long as she needs to do so. Her mother was a Fraser. She has every right to occupy the cottage. Why do you care?”

Brady heard the ice in his father’s voice, giving him even more reason to seek out Lillian’s truths as well as her lies. She was purposely hiding something from the laird, putting everyone in danger by the ongoing deception. He needed to put further discussion with his father aside. Connal didn’t intend to give him information.

“Come, let’s eat.”

Together they walked to the table designated for the laird and his family. Wynnie was nearly finished with her meal. Brady didn’t believe he should engage his mother in questions about the woman who seemed to be occupying his head. She would see right through him. If she discovered his intent, she would do her best to stand in his way.

He found himself leaning back in his chair, arms crossed in front of him, staring at the opposite end of the room. The food was unappealing tonight. He found he wanted to sample a bit of the rabbit stew with Lillian in her cottage. He could wait.

“Is there something wrong with the food?”

The sweet sultry voice next to him shook him out of his melancholy musings. He looked up into the soft blue eyes he noticed earlier. Felt his body become fully aroused. He shifted in his chair as he tried to hide the evidence she caused. She smelled of vanilla. He reached up and swiped away the flour on her nose.

She inhaled a sharp breath, stepping back so quickly she lost her balance for a moment. Brady reached out, stopping her fall. “My apologies. I only meant to rid your nose of the flour left from your baking today. It’s charming,” he said with mocking disdain, still wondering about her as well as her intentions. “You don’t ken much about cooking, do you? Perhaps you’re better suited for cleaning.”

Lillian touched her nose, staring at him as if she thought he’d lost his mind. She was a skittish little thing, almost as if she wasn’t used to men. He decided she was a good little actress. She had the emotions correct right down to the hand at her throat and the widening of her eyes, a deceitful little thing. Amused, he slanted her a mocking grin. Unraveling her would be interesting.

“You had no right to touch me,” she blurted suddenly, her eyes fixed on Roby as if she couldn’t bear to look at him or she saw something she disliked.

“I was just trying to help,” he growled, no longer amused.

His gaze riveted on his brother who was grinning, clearly enjoying this encounter along with the woman’s attention on him. His brother knew how he felt about the girl. Was using this opportunity to mock him.

“I beg of you, don’t help again. I’m quite capable of getting the flour dust off my own nose.”

She stuck her chin in the air, her nose higher. The regal tilt, the stiffness of her shoulders spoke of nobility.

Not a common serving wench. His thoughts returned to the silks and satins he saw in the trunk. The voluptuous pillows on the large bed, it was a bed designed for two.

Another piece of the puzzle that was Lillian Townsend he meant to vanquish.

She cleared her throat, looked at him with an imperious glare in those soft blue eyes, repeating her earlier question. “Is there anything I can get for you, sir?” she stood back, waiting. Her toe was tapping impatiently.

He reached out, confronting her earlier statement that he had no right to touch her as he placed his hand around her wrist, closing tightly, tugging her closer. “I want you,” he said, his voice assuming a husky gentle timber.

The gasp of air, the sucked in breath was another good ploy. Her small breasts rose and fell at a frantic pace. “Food, drink anything of that nature.”

She tugged on her wrist, seeming to ignore his statement. She would not ignore him forever.

“Tonight, when you are through working wait for me in the kitchen. I’ll walk you home. Shouldn’t be out there by yourself in the dark. ‘Tis not safe for a pretty lady.” He knew she would not, at least he knew she would try to leave without him seeing her. She would not succeed.

“No.”

“Yes. I believe you will. We’ve matters to talk over. You can’t deceive me like you have my father. I ken what you’re about.”

He watched her eyes narrow to small blue slits. The soft blue turned to silver ice as she stared at him, never turning her gaze from his. She provoked him. Intrigued him to no end.

“I’ve not deceived anyone.” She tugged again, her lips thinning into a straight line. Her anger was written clearly on her expressive face. “Leave me be.”

This time he let her go, hearing Roby clear his throat behind him. Something else was happening in the hall. His guess was that he had the attention of his father. “Tonight. That’s a promise. Don’t leave without me.”

Without confirming his request, she fled the room, her skirts swaying gracefully around her feet her back stiff as a board. He placed his hands on his belly, watching, anticipating what was yet to come. His next encounter with Miss Lillian Townsend would be interesting, fascinating indeed. He meant to determine her secrets as well as enjoy anything else that might come from their association.

“You’re playing with fire, big brother. If father notices what you’re about, he’ll be displeased.”

Connal sat down, his hands folded on the table. “She is not what she seems, Brady. For your own good, leave her be.”

In a dry tone, “I’ve figured that fact out by myself. This has nothing to do with my own good, rather hers. What is it she is hiding, Father?”

“You should let her live her life. She is not your mate.” There was a tinge of anger in Connal’s voice.

“It seems, I can’t forget her, she’s found a place deep in my soul,” Brady said in all honesty.

His voice was cold and hard, wondering why he felt so intensely connected when it came to Lillian Townsend. He thought on his father’s words. “She is not your mate.” How the bloody hell did one know if a woman was his mate? Ah, he brushed the thought aside. If he had to wonder, she most assuredly was not his throughout all eternity.

Thinking about that he decided once more it would not be unpleasant to have her for a few months. He would discover what he questioned.

She walked back into the hall, a tray of drinks and food in her hands. She was graceful when she moved. He liked everything about her except the deception and the lies. Lillian would be his, at least until he grew tired of her. He would begin the subtle coaxing he was known for this very evening when he accompanied her home. Perhaps they would even share a first kiss.

He turned to his father, “Did you snare a rabbit for her?”

His question seemed to surprise Connal. “What if I did?”

Brady lifted his shoulders in a slow dramatic shrug, more questions coming to mind. “Something you don’t do for the crofters. Is she more than just a tenant on McKenna land? Is she really a Fraser?”

“Leave it be,” the laird said harshly, rising.

He held out his hand for his wife. Together they exited the room, Wynnie looking over her shoulder, her eyes seeming to plead with him to do as his father asked.

He could not.

Normally, he would have given in to his father’s wishes in a heartbeat. Something about this woman stirred his senses, provoking every masculine part of him; intrigued, fascinated, leaving him spellbound and needing more from her. He sought to kiss her senseless, possess her soft lips until she told him everything he wanted to know, until she gave him all of herself.

“I cannot,” he whispered as Lillian whirled passed him another tray in her hand.

The breath he inhaled was long and deep. The scent of vanilla floated around her. “God help me, but I cannot leave her be.”

The seconds and minutes seemed to tick by more slowly than they ever had in his entire life. The great hall slowly began to empty. The servers were few and far between. A few of the clan snoozed by the fire. When he watched Lillian slide passed him into the kitchen, he rose, following behind her.

Brady leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed in front of him as he watched Lillian go through the process of leaving. If she realized he was there, she gave no indication as she wrapped her threadbare cloak around her slim shoulders. When she became his, he would make sure she dressed in the silks and satins she already owned, no more pretenses. What she presented here was a complete fabrication of her life.

As she left the room he pushed away, stepping at her pace until she was out the door. The darkness seemed to swallow her whole. Under his breath he cursed, wondering how many times she made the fifteen-minute walk to the cottage she was calling home alone by herself. Nights were not safe for a single woman, unprotected.

Anger simmered, annoyance at her flagrant abuse of her life flared deep in his soul. Did she truly think it safe for her to walk that distance by herself without a man’s protection? After tonight, no longer would she put herself at risk. This was untenable. Furious strides ate up the ground between them until she noticed he was behind her.

“I told you to wait for me.” His voice was cold with rage.

He held on to her arm, turning her to look at him, needing to tell her she would obey his commands despite her wishes.

She tried to wrench her elbow from him, her eyes darkening with her own anger as she stared at him, realizing she was helpless to resist his strength. “I don’t take orders from you, Sir. Unhand me,” she grit out between clenched teeth, her resentment with him simmering as hotly as his own.

“No?”

“No!” She swung at him.

He wasn’t expecting her to retaliate. She moved like lightning. Her hand connected with his face so hard his head jerked back. He felt the fire on his face where she slapped him. He could even feel the imprint of her fingers forming on his cheek. Awe at her audacity filled him. Irritation at her inability to see the danger in the situation gave new meaning to his need to see this through to whatever end awaited them.

“You are an audacious piece of baggage.”

He held both her hands, tugging them behind her back, bringing her against him, her breasts pushing against his chest. He heard each breath as she labored to draw in air, felt the heat of her body pressed so near to his, felt the lush curves he had not seen beneath her serviceable gown. She lowered her lashes, another ploy he thought to get the better of him. If anything, she was a consummate actress.

She looked up. “Bassa!” she spat out. “Let me go.”

Yes, he supposed he could be a bastard at times. His smile hinted at mocking amusement. “You, madam, are in no position to make demands concerning me as well as my intentions. Perhaps it would be more prudent on your part to yield to my requests and humor me. What do you think, hmm…? a willing woman?” He changed tactics. Request seemed much more biddable than the words demand or command.

“Dodder! Bampot! Swine!”

“Sassenach.” He spoke plainly, his voice very soft. He wasn’t about to take her abuse.

She turned her head, seeming to school her features. “I’m a Fraser.”

“Townsend.”

He released her elbow. She continued walking as if he didn’t match her step for step as if she hadn’t sent foul words his way. The following silence permeated his thoughts, soaking into every pore of his body. Her back was stiff, her strides long for a woman while her fists were clenched tightly at her sides. An apparition of frustration and fury, if he didn’t miss his guess.

If she were a man, she would be a worthy opponent. As a woman, she would fall nicely into his plans. He was confident to believe all he needed to do to make her his was meet her lips with his own.

Soon.

Rain began to fall, a few drops at first then turning into a deluge with gusting winds. It was turning into a dreich evening. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, pretending he wasn’t there or perhaps hoping he would disappear if she couldn’t see him.

He was sure the hood would blind her to him. A grin nestled in his heart sending signals of delight all the way to his toes. He didn’t want to but he appreciated her stubborn infuriating courage. Still, she sought to win this game she was playing with him. Not by ignoring him she wouldn’t.

A deer bounded across the path. She cried out, turning to him before realizing what she was doing. He pulled her close.

“‘Tis nothing to be afraid of this time, Lilly. Next time the animal might be of human form,” he murmured, his breath touching her face, his knuckles tenderly stroking her cheek in anticipations of more. “Much more dangerous.”

Placing both hands on his chest, she pushed on him. He didn’t move as he turned her. When she looked up, his mouth was so close to her own he could feel her rapid breaths against his lips. He watched her small tongue run across her full bottom lip that he knew would be soft and wet for him when he chose to kiss her.

“I’m not afraid.”

“You must have been since you sought me out.” His words were spoken with a bland indifference. “We both know how you feel about me. That will change.”

“I was just surprised. That’s all. A deer, nothing more or less. No harm, no foul.” Her words were staccato like spoken quickly as if her lungs were still robbed of air.

“Could have been a man. Someone who wished you harm,” he said softly. “I would not have liked that.”

“You wish to do me harm.”

“Nay, I only wish to give you pleasure.” As soon as you will allow my coaxing to culminate in something more.

“I don’t know what you’re saying.” She pointed down the trail where they were headed. “See, there is my home. You can leave now. You’ve seen me to my destination, and I thank you to go now.”

“Not until I’m ready and I know there is no one dangerous inside waiting for you.”

~ * ~

Earlier that afternoon, Lilly felt the heat from his insistent gaze before she saw him. When she turned her attention his way, he was sitting, his long well-muscled legs stretched out in front of him, one arm nonchalantly draped over a second chair. His eyes were the color of molten steel, his hair black as coal. The angles and planes of his face were hard and chiseled. Nay, all his body was solid, unyielding. Even sitting he was the personification of masculine grace. There was not one part of him that appeared soft. Every pound of compact muscle oozed male confidence. In part he terrified her on the other side he fascinated her.

In one hand he held a glass of ale. His gaze riveted on her, on her lips, her breasts even as the focus of his attentions roamed down her body assessing her. In London she’d known men who were so arrogant they believed they had the God given right to anything or anyone they desired. This man appeared to be cut from the same ilk. Though he made no move toward her. A sudden unexplainable wave of fire swept through her. She found herself undeniably attracted to him.

Not yet. Not now.

In part that was why she fled the horrid country as well as the more horrific town, littered with vices of every kind. Every nobleman kept a mistress or made use of the whores who dotted the waterfront taverns as well as upscale whorehouses. Few were loyal to their wives and vice versa. The stink of the town filled her with dread as well as revulsion. Even more so was the knowledge her stepfather promised her to a man three times her age. She could not stomach the notion of lying willingly in bed with the vile creature and allowing him to do what he wanted with her body. She fought the only way she could think of. She ran.

Her gaze returned to the man staring at her, joined by his brother. She knew who they were, recognized the McKenna brothers by the steely purpose of their long strides and broad, powerful shoulders. They possessed the same hard gray eyes as their father. The laird warned her to stay away from his sons when he allowed her to reside in the Fraser cottage. Not because he didn’t deem her worthy of knowing her sons but to keep her from getting hurt. They would only wed their mate. She understood that fact. They loved women and never said no to an agreeable lady or one they could coax into their bed. Every unwed woman was fair game if they wanted a dalliance.

To avoid a liaison all she had to do was say no.

The moment she set foot in the kitchen she heard the rumors. A woman had hurt Brady a few years back. Believing her his soul mate, he fell in love with her, offering her a place by his side through eternity, offering her everything he was, all he owned. Later, he discovered what she wanted was his title and wealth. The lady was no more his mate than she was. She was here with a purpose, one she meant to fulfill. She would never allow a man such as Brady McKenna to dissuade her from her good and true commitment.

Inwardly, Lilly laughed. It seemed it was true of all women, even those living in the highlands. Until now, she thought it a trait of the women in London seeking to better themselves. Well, she didn’t have the time or the inclination to form a relationship with anyone, let alone one of the brothers, especially not Brady McKenna who excited her in ways she didn’t want to admit even to herself. She wiped her hands on her apron, finishing with the bread dough, allowing a heavy sigh to escape her lips. It wasn’t as if she disliked the work. She dreaded it because she was so bad at it. The kitchen had never been her domain. No, she was more accustomed to the parlors and sitting rooms in the elegant townhouses of the London affluent, to being served not serving.

As the evening wore on, she’d been given the ultimatum that Brady would walk her home. She dreaded the upcoming moment. She wasn’t afraid of him. When he touched her, held her wrist with his long slightly calloused fingers, she knew she was afraid of her feelings for him. He wasn’t gentle by any means. She sensed he could be, suspected he could melt her heart as well as her body if given the opportunity. If she could only escape out the back door before he had a chance to know she left, she would be able to breathe a little more freely. Perhaps her heart would even stop thundering so harshly beneath her ribs. She would not have to worry that he would discover what she was about here in the highlands.

She understood the chance of escaping him was slim. He was a determined man. Had not been surprised when she spotted him leaning negligently against the doorjamb into the kitchen when she was ready to leave. She braced herself for the confrontation as well as his presence beside her while he escorted her home. She prayed her brother, Douglas, would hear them and leave the crofters hut just in case he insisted on seeing her inside. Her brother needed to remain hidden and unobtrusive for the next few weeks so he could heal, then resume their mission.

The rain began to fall, a few drops at first before turning into a deluge with gusting winds. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, pretending he wasn’t there or perhaps more to the point wishing for her peace of mind he would disappear. She quickened her pace, hoping to reach the cottage before she was drenched to the bone. His presence beside her unnerved her, completely terrified her. A lump caught in her throat. Her knees quaked so hard she could barely place one step in front of the other. Maybe if she stepped inside the door, then slammed it shut in his face, he would understand she didn’t want him to come inside.

Perhaps the world would stop turning.

A deer bounded across the path. “Oh!” she cried out, turning to him before realizing what she was doing. He pulled her close. His arms wrapped around her, warm and hard, inflexible, demanding. She had naught to give.

“‘Tis nothing to be afraid of this time, Lilly Townsend. Next time the animal might be of human form,” he murmured, his breath touching her face, his knuckles tenderly stroking her cheek. “Much more dangerous.”

In her heart, she understood he was the most dangerous animal she would encounter. If given the chance, he could rip her heart right out from behind her ribs. She wouldn’t give him the opportunity.

Placing both hands on his chest, she pushed on him. He didn’t move as he turned her. When she looked up, his mouth was so close to her own, intimidating, yet strangely beckoning to her. Her lips parted. She moistened them with her tongue as she struggled against her fears as well as the strange heat of her escalating emotions. This was not something she was accustomed to. She had never been held so close, so intimately by anyone. While she danced and was held by other men, the sensations were never like this. The threat of his formidable body pressed against hers caused a strange ache as well as heat to gather inside. She was a tempest of seething emotions.

“I’m not afraid.” She tried to swallow, tried to look away from him. His eyes were dark, fathomless as he gazed at her, imploring her to meet him halfway, to look at him. A half-smile formed on his lips as he watched her with that expression of his that accused her of lying. He knew her, understood how she felt. Understood she was struggling more with herself than with him.

“You must have been since you sought me out.” His words were spoken with a bland indifference coupled with a mocking grin. “You turned right into my arms. It’s exactly what I wanted tonight. You in my arms.”

“I was just surprised. ‘Twas a deer nothing more or less. No harm, no foul.” Her words were staccato like spoken quickly as if her lungs still were robbed of air. Once more she pushed against him, to no avail. He would not let her go until he was ready, until…

“Could have been a man. Someone who wished you harm. You might have been alone, defenseless,” he said softly. “I would not have liked that.”

“You wish to do me harm.”

Even though she spoke the words accusingly she knew them to be false. He was experienced in the ways of sexual games between men and women, understood how to give and receive pleasure. She heard as much from her older brother when he warned her to stay away from the McKenna men. She just didn’t understand what he wanted with her.

“Nay, I only wish to give you pleasure.” His voice was whiskey smooth sending a telling shiver down her spine.

“I don’t know what you’re saying.” She pointed down the trail where they were headed. “See, there is my home. You can leave now. You’ve seen me to my destination. I thank you to go now.”

“Not until I’m ready and I know there is no one inside waiting for you.”

His hands encircled her upper arms. He leaned forward as if he meant to kiss her yet he did not. Disturbed, irritated with herself for wanting just that, she trapped her lower lip beneath her teeth. She didn’t desire him in her home. He would see how little she owned then he would press his case.

I want you.

Those three words reverberated in her head, her entire being crying out no, no, he could not have her as his mistress or anything else. Stay strong. She would have remained in London if being used by a man was her intent or even her destiny. Here, she had a purpose, a job to accomplish. That wasn’t true. She could have never let her brother flee without help. His only crime was that he pled the Jacobite cause in the House of Lords. He was not a Jacobite, barely religious in any way. He had soundly fought for the English, fought for the Duke of Cumberland during the war where the Scots tried to set James on the throne. He had simply felt that two years after the last battle it was time to put the differences aside thereby living in peace with the Scots. Now all he yearned for was to find a means to help those who were persecuted.

“Shall we?” He beckoned toward her home, his hand outstretched as if he wished for her to lead the way.

She heard his voice, felt the whisper of his breath against her cheek, jerking her back to the present. “What?”

She was shaking her head as he let her go. She had thought… What had she thought? That he was about to kiss her? Relief should be sweeping through her not this crazy disappointment.

“Go into your home. What did you think?” he asked as if he knew the answer before she could say.

Odious man. “N-nothing. I wasn’t thinking anything.”

At the blatant lie, she felt the flow of heat caress her cheeks.

He sent her a mocking all-knowing grin before nodding toward the door. “After you.”

“Of course.” She drew air into her lungs, felt the sting of the raindrops as she lifted her face away from him and his massive body no longer sheltered her. She stepped forward. At the door she paused to search his face. He was unrelenting, with only one purpose. She wished she understood the reasons he singled her out for this sweet torture.

Inside, a small fire burned in the hearth. He gazed at the remains as well as the pot hanging over it. “Must have been a large fire you made this morning for it still to be burning. Whatever you’ve got cooking in that pot is most likely burned.”

“I don’t go to work until the afternoon, if you must know. The fire would hardly burn down to nothing.”

“I will see that you work in the mornings instead. That way you won’t have to walk home at night.”

She laughed at him, “What? You don’t intend to walk me home every night?”

“If the lass would let me stay every night in her bed, I’d be more than pleased to walk you home.”

Not waiting or seeming to expect an answer, he helped her with her cloak, shaking the drops off outside the door before closing it and hanging the coat on its hook then he slipped out of his coat. Her stomach churned. The rabbit stew should have been inviting. She’d not eaten since this morning.

“Would you like some stew?” she queried with a wavering voice all the while hoping for something to talk about before he pursued whatever plans he had for the evening.

“No, but don’t let me stop you. Don’t suppose you had a chance to eat,” he said as he sat down, seemingly making himself comfortable.

“I couldn’t eat a thing,” she murmured, trying to look in any direction but at him. She needed to busy herself as well as her hands. “I’ll clean it up and put the food in a container for tomorrow.”

“It was nice of the laird to snare you a rabbit. Isn’t something he usually does for a tenant.”

She stopped, surprised, as she tried to hide her emotions. She lowered her lashes. “It was,” she blatantly lied.

By the look on his face, she guessed he knew. Yet his scowl told her he was thinking over something. “Why are you here?”

“I live here. Why are you here?” she shot back as she poured a glass of wine for herself and him. “I don’t have tea.”

“You have wine.”

She nodded. I drank the tea first. I’ve not been paid for my services so I can’t purchase anything from the village. This is all I have,” she paused for a moment. “And water, of course.”

“Wine is fine. Tomorrow I’ll see your cupboards are stocked.”

“Nay. Ye cannae.”

“I can and I will.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he spoke slowly at first enunciating every word, “I intend on spending a great deal of time here—with you. I don’t plan on being deprived of anything I want or like, beginning with you.”

“I don’t want you.”

He rose, walking toward her, his smile firmly in place. “Let’s see about that,” he said softly.

“I would not like to see anything.”

What an arrogant, self-centered bastard. He would do everything in his power to bend her to his will. She would do everything to prove he could not. Yet her hands were shaking, her breaths coming in tiny, miniature gulps as he pressed ever closer. The strange ache possessing her body was growing again centered in places she’d truly never thought of before this man appeared in her life. His gaze was upon hers. His eyes turning to dark silver, heated to a fine sheen.

He stood over her now.

“Did you realize that your fingers were moving on my chest just a few minutes ago when we stood outside in the freezing rain? You wanted me then. I’m gambling you still want me.”

“They were not. You should leave now.”

“In the freezing rain?”

One of his large hands wrapped around her neck, gently drawing her closer. Quickly, he undid the scarf holding her hair back. The length spilled around her shoulders. His fingers wound into her long hair. She felt the constant pressure at her nape. The other hand settled on her waist, stroking the curve of her hip. “No, I dinnae want this.” Once more she lied.

“You will.” Slowly his mouth descended, enclosing hers. He touched, stroked and nibbled across the width. His tongue moistened her lips, traced the crease between them. His teeth tugged with the suggestion she open for him. Her mouth was wet and hot, swollen slightly where he caressed. He kissed her again and again, nibbled on either side of her mouth, pressed once more before finding a sensitive spot behind her ear.

She resisted his subtle persuasion, refused to allow herself to be drawn into the delicate coaxing, to the fire smoldering inside. He barely touched her. It seemed she could not draw a breath of air.

“Relax, sweetling. Give into what you are feeling. All will be as it should be.”

His hand stroked her back, up then down, gliding slowly over each tiny bone running the length. Each pass of his hand drew her closer to the hard length of him. She felt the play of his muscles against her breasts as they began to swell and throb expectantly. She had never been kissed like this, never been unable to resist the sweet intoxication of a man’s lips. The men she’d been with in London were nothing like this man. Dangerous.

Lilly clung to him simply because if she didn’t, she would crumple to the floor in a tiny ball of nothingness. Her fingers held on to his shoulders, her lips swelling under the fierce possessiveness of his mouth as he claimed her as his own. She stifled a silent whisper of expectations as he gently deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across her mouth finding entrance while he slowly parted her lips, his tongue delving inside, retreating then continuing the sensuous invasion over then over again, pushing inside her claiming her as his possession. His hand stroked her back again and again then settled on her rear to gently squeeze. As he pulled her between his legs, his hard arousal pressed against her belly.

“You want me,” he whispered softly. “Admit it. Let me inside your sultry warmth. Melt in my arms. Let me dissolve in your fire.”

Outwardly, she was still denying the feelings as well as the inferno he created within her. Inwardly, she was yearning for more, needing to feel the depth of his emotions as he enticed and lured her in ways she didn’t understand to do his bidding. Refusing his insistent exploration was impossible as her hands rose higher, circling his neck drawing him closer. Her breasts pushed against his chest. It was everything she’d ever yearned for, to be kissed and treasured for who she was, not what she could bring to a marriage. Deep in her heart, she realized he wasn’t treasuring her. He was using her for his personal needs. That fact made no difference at the moment.

This wasn’t a marriage proposal, she reminded herself. If anything, it was a proposal to become his mistress, an invitation of sorts or perhaps an interview for the position. She would not give in to his demands. She would resist anything more he might ask except the promise of his kisses.

Once again she gave into his quest, opening her lips to his invasion. His tongue thrust inside then again as his lips molded to hers. He played her body as if she was created for him and him alone. Heat seared everywhere he touched then cooled when he withdrew. He nipped the corners of her mouth before stroking with his tongue and mouth across her chin to her ear. He placed tiny kisses down her neck as her fingers wound into his hair in an unconscious attempt to encourage him as well as to draw him closer.

The tiny moan of pleasure rippling from her was nearly her undoing as she still tried to withhold some part of herself from his expert coaxing. It was not to be simply because he would not allow her to hold anything back. When she tentatively touched his lips with her tongue, he sucked hers deep inside his mouth. With that simple gesture what she gave him was undeniable. His fingers clenched her body to his, tightening and squeezing her derrière until she could barely breathe, until she was pushing of her own volition against him as if she yearned to become one with him.

He pulled away as he looked down at her. Her head rested against his chest now. “Look at me,” he said softly gifting her with a mocking smile that seemed to be meant to put her in her place. “Do you want me, Lilly?”

She stiffened at the thought he so easily played her, toying with her until she had no will of her own. She eagerly danced to the tune he set. This was just a prelude to the continuing games until he had her in his bed beneath him, her legs spread for him. She wouldn’t be his plaything. Refusing his attentions in the future would not be easy. She knew she had to keep him from taking her innocence, from ruining her for a marriage.

And yet…

Lilly knew she had no prospects for a marriage, having knowingly left that part of her life behind her when she fled her betrothal and everything evil in London. The gossip surrounding her would put a stamp on her reputation that could never be erased. He would think less of her if he understood the extent of her lies and betrayals. Her stepfather entered into the contract with good intentions.

She defied him.

Would do it again in a heartbeat if faced with the same decision. She had no regrets. Perhaps becoming the mistress of a man such as Brady McKenna would not be so bad or humbling. Her fate could be worse. She might go through life without knowing the sweet pleasures a man could give a woman.

Brady McKenna was arrogant, a proud man who took what he wanted. He wanted her. Would that be so wrong?

“No,” she told him. “No, I dinnae want you.”

“Little liar, should I prove your statements are false?” He stroked her cheek, ran his fingertip along her collarbone.

She shivered in response, heat sweeping through her. Once again his mouth descended on hers, stroked and moved creating that same magical enchantment he crafted before. This time when his finger ran along her back he moved slightly. Now, his hand cupped her breast. Through the thin fabric of her gown, he caressed the hard bud at the tip, torturing her with the burning need his hands and lips generated. She should tell him no, push him away.

She could not.

“If you didn’t want me, you would tell me to stop,” he whispered, his teeth closing over her ear, biting gently as his fingers caught her nipple, tugging. “I could take your breast into my mouth, suck it deeply and still you would not say no.”

The last words angered her, bringing her back to the reality of the present. He knew what he was about. She allowed him to seduce her into a state where she could no longer think only feel. “No.” She pulled in a deep breath of air praying it would give her courage also. “Brady, stop. Please.” Yet she heard the tone of her voice. It sounded as if she was pleading with him to continue not to cease.

He did stop then, sweeping her into his arms and striding with her to the large chair near the fireplace. Sitting down, he held her in his lap, continuing to caress her back, the curve of her hip then back to her nape. It seemed to Lilly that he was trying to comfort her not seduce.

“I want you, Lilly. I want you willing and begging me to kiss you, to touch you in places that only a man you care for will touch you. For now, perhaps we should sample that wine in our glasses and leave what comes next for another time. What do you say?”

“I won’t ever beg,” she told him lifting her chin, trying for an air of confidence she didn’t feel.

Bloody eyes but she wanted to beg him right now to kiss her again, to stroke her with his long fingers until… Determined, she would never give that kind of power over to him.

“No, Lilly, you probably will not. Perhaps beg is the wrong word to use with someone so proud.” Still his fingers continued to move on her flesh, finding places that heated her as she continued to dissolve into him. Each stroke of his hand created a new fire where it burned only to turn cold when his fingers left. She tried to still the violent shivering of her body but could not.

“Please, I can take no more of this,” she whispered.

“Only one thing will ease the desire you feel for me. I can do that. Ease the passion and change those sentiments to delight. All you need do is ask,” he told her as he placed his lips on the thundering pulse at the base of her neck, lingering, touching, kissing.

“I cannae.”

“Then we must wait until you want me more than you’ve wanted anything else your entire life. Will you want me, crave me like that, Lilly?”

His silken voice caressed her to her soul, made her hunger for things a lifetime of teachings had told her were wicked, sinful.

She should not, could not tell him yes.

Her brother would certainly disown her if she gave in to this man’s tactics. Her father had already done so. What did she care?

Her mind and body were weak.

“The rain has ceased.” He swirled his tongue inside her ear.

She didn’t understand his comment. Even now he was unfastening the front of her dress, moving the fabric aside so he could touch her, stroke her more intimately, flesh against flesh. She panicked “No!” She leapt to her feet, tugging the sides of her gown closed. “You must leave. As you said, the rain has stopped.”

He smiled softly at her, his gaze moving from her breasts to the tips of her toes assessing just as he did when her hands were wrist deep in dough. “If that’s what you want, Lilly. A good-bye kiss first. One that will warm me through the night.

Before she could inhale again, she was in his arms, his lips touching upon hers once more, claiming them asserting himself, leaving no doubts about his intentions.

Then, “I want you, Lilly. Don’t ever forget that.”

~ * ~

Brady left the cottage before he made the irrevocable mistake of taking Lily to bed before she would admit to wanting him. He never bedded a woman who was willing but hiding her eagerness behind the word no. Pulling up the collar of his coat to shield his neck from the wind, he chuckled softly. She was passionate, a desirable woman as well, an enchantress. Her hair was as silken and soft as he thought it would be. She melted into him when he kissed her. Her breasts weren’t overly large but they fit his hands to perfection. They were soft but firm, her flesh silken fire. With a little patience, he would win this game, coax her into giving all of herself to him. She was a skittish little thing. He would fix that.

Ah, but he could envision her naked in his arms.

About five minutes down the path leading to the McKenna castle, he doubled back, taking a more circuitous route to the cottage. When he mentioned the rabbit and his father’s part in gifting her with the meat, she appeared genuinely surprised. The two sets of everything still bothered him. She was hiding something. Before he made love to her, he meant to discover some truths, if he could wait that long. Perhaps nothing was amiss and what she presented to him was true.

He didn’t believe that for a second.

Her home was in front of him now, the lights still shining in the main room. He hunkered down in the dark and waited. Minutes ticked by. The wind moaning around the trees surrounding him still he waited. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, groaning at the tightening of his muscles. Rain began to fall again. Tempted to shift, his thick cat fur would be a better barrier to the water than the coat he wore.

Perhaps he was wrong about Lilly. Maybe there wasn’t a second person living with her. Quite possibly she wasn’t hiding her true identity or her purpose. He hoped what she showed him was honest and true. He heard the light tread of boots on the fallen twigs and leaves before he saw the shadow then the man. His breath caught in the back of his throat while he remained dead still, frozen. He watched. His breathing stopped. The man’s fist rose to knock on the door.

“Douglas!” Lilly had thrown open the door then eagerly hurled herself into the man’s arms.

“Deadly little liar,” he murmured softly.

His anger at her deception filled him. The question now was just who was Douglas and what did he mean to her? None of the crofters he knew of went by that name. So, what would she tell him when he confronted her with this one’s identity?

The man kissed her on the forehead, a chaste kiss that sent his fists into tight balls. Jealousy was not an emotion he expected or ever experienced. He never got that close to a woman. Even the woman he once thought was his mate never inspired jealousy. On silent feet, he padded cat-like to one of the windows. Setting his back against the wall, he listened to the conversation between them.

“You cannot stay here any longer,” Lilly told the man, her voice soft a seductive murmur. He wanted to hear that same tone when he kissed her while she turned to liquid in his arms. “It’s not safe and well you know it. You put me in danger as well as the clan if you continue. After all the McKenna has gone through to keep neutrality here, I cannot…”

“Hush now, Lilly. I would never do such a thing. Perhaps it is best I return and clear my name.”

“Is such a thing possible?” she asked sounding breathless and out of sorts.

When he snuck a peak at the couple, Douglas was holding her, her long slim body pressed against his. The man’s hands were around her waist. Rage he’d never felt before simmered, waiting to explode. He tried to remind himself she wasn’t his, at least not yet. He needed patience to mold her to his desires.

“Perhaps not at this point.” He stroked her hair. “If I leave, will you be safe here? This might be our last time.”

“I ken it, Douglas.”

“I saw you with one of the sons.”

“I’m sure I’ll be safer than you,” she told him softly. “Where will you go?”

Brady wanted to laugh at her words. She wouldn’t be safe from his attention, from his desperate need to possess her. No, she was acting to confident about her ability to tell him she didn’t want him as much as he did her.

“Farther into the highlands, north where fewer people live. Mayhap I’ll find a ship sailing for America. Leave this all behind. Start a new life across the ocean. I’ve heard a man can live there, pursue his dreams. I would miss London though. Would miss my betrothed even though I know she’ll move on to another man.” He kissed her again, a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Perhaps you could join me.”

Over my dead body, Lilly, you aren’t going to leave me.

“I will think of you. I love you, Douglas. Where ever you go take care.” She reached up, placing her palm on his cheek.

Brady’s breath stopped as he digested her words, telling himself it didn’t make any difference how she felt about that man. He still wanted her, the little harlot. When he first saw her, it made no difference to him how well used she was. Now she confirmed his guess. He knew there had been at least one man in her life. He would erase this man from her memories.

“If my father finds you?” Douglas asked, “What then?”

“I won’t go back to London. I can’t live that way nor can I marry that man I’m betrothed to.”

His gut tightened at her words. She was meant to wed another man. He would see about that, send out a few inquiries about Lillian Townsend. He meant to discover the truth about the woman. His woman.

“You might not have a choice,” Douglas said, smoothing her hair from her forehead. “The contract has been signed.”

“You could stop it.”

“Nay, not even if I could wed you myself, could this nightmare for us end. If you were to wed someone else, well, perhaps then.”

“Who would want me, or want to take a chance? Lord Claymore is filled with revenge as well as hate. He would kill anyone who took what he thinks is his.”

“Lord Claymore cannot hold a pistol his handshakes so bad.”

“He has the coin to hire the finest assassins. You take care, little one. Don’t let anyone sway you to do something you don’t want to do. Don’t let the McKenna—”

They both turned, searching the woods for the sound they heard. “Go,” she said. “What if it’s the English searching for you? For us? I couldn’t bear for them to discover your intentions.”

“It would be a random bit of luck on their foolish parts. No one of any position even realizes your mother was Scottish. That she lived here before she wed Lord Townsend. No one will search for either of us here in the remote highlands.”

Brady ducked down, moving silently behind a tree as he watched the couple from a greater distance, unwilling to give himself away as Douglas left the cottage.

“You will stop. Promise me you will stop.”

“I cannot.”