Call of the Highland Moon
Page 29“Well,” his grin was wicked, “we used what came quickly to hand, of course. And as the cesspits were, in fact, close at hand, and as they were covered with chunks of stone roughly the correct size …” He trailed off, and Carly couldn’t help but burst into incredulous laughter.
“Are you telling me that all of the British kings and queens since 1300 have made a point of being crowned on the top of what basically amounts to a medieval toilet seat cover?”
Gideon shrugged. “Draw your own conclusions.”
“And you, your people … you have the real one?” Amazing, she thought, that such a thing could get lost in history. Because from what she understood, everybody figured that what the British had given back was the real deal, including the Scots.
“We were charged with the care of it from the time it arrived on our shores, then charged with the keeping of it when it had to disappear. It’s become legend; Jacob’s Pillow, where he dreamed of his ladder to heaven, a magical thing with more power than any mortal can understand. Some say it has healing powers, others that it will sing when the rightful king of Scotland again sits upon it. Some say that it disappeared for a time, to Wales, where it had a famous sword pulled from it. All part of its purpose in being among mankind at all, such a sacred, powerful thing it is. And then,” his face darkened suddenly, and Carly found herself fighting the urge to take a step back, for there, right beneath the surface, was the wolf, “there are those who think it holds the secret to rule not just Scotland, should her sovereignty ever be restored, but the world. Deluded, evil thinking, but the myth, and its believers, exist just the same.”
“And is it true?” Carly knew her mouth had dropped open, but she couldn’t help it. To know that things like that actually existed in the world and were guarded by, of all things, werewolves hired by a saint. What else was hiding out there, just out of plain sight? “Is any of that actually true?”
Gideon smirked a little, then gave her a sidelong glance and shook his head. And she knew, at that point, she’d gotten all she was going to. “I know a little. Less, I think, than I will when I take my father’s place. But even then, so much has been lost with time. And remember, the Clan MacInnes, and its Wolves, were only charged to keep it safe, keep it hidden. Not to use it for any grand purpose of our own. But it appears at least one of our number has forgotten that.”
She straightened, took a tentative step towards Gideon. It was so overwhelming, all of this. Two days ago, she’d been this normal, harried, boring businesswoman who worried about things like whether her twinset looked stupid with her pants and whether the latest shipment of new releases was going to pique enough interest in her clientele. Now, she was all wrapped up in werewolves and ancient relics with magic powers and murder … murder. She stopped short.
“Is that what … who that thing was outside last night? Do you think it was just watching you?”
“I think,” Gideon said flatly, “that I have a spineless, cowardly cousin with delusions of grandeur and a few homicidally inclined friends he didn’t bother to tell anyone about. And I also think,” he continued, his voice softening just a little with regret, “that I may have put you in a great deal of danger until I can nail the bastard, and his helpers, to the wall.”
“And you … you just thought it would be okay to …” She gritted her teeth, bit off the scream that wanted to rip from her throat at the man who stood silently, watching her as though he were expecting, and ready to accept, her rage, disgust, denial. All of it. And all it did was make her angrier. “I have a life, goddamn it, Gideon! I have a family here, people I care about! And how dare you … how dare you just brush all that aside like it doesn’t matter!” She saw him open his mouth to speak then, but she just rolled right over him. “No, I know what you’re going to say. You didn’t know that psycho-wolf or whatever that was last night was going to find you so fast. You didn’t know about the damned snowstorm. But none of that changes the fact that you lied to someone who went out of her way to save you, who probably would have helped you anyway if you’d just been honest.”
And she enjoyed it, seeing the shock that her statement caused, but it was true. She wasn’t the kind of person who ignored the pleas of those in need. But being tricked into helping without being aware of the possible consequences, that was what she couldn’t stomach. Being treated like a little girl who didn’t need to know any better, like a means to an end. She’d had plenty of being the baby girl growing up.
But damn it, she was a woman now, and she was done taking shit from men.
“Well,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, “seeing as how I don’t actually have a choice anymore, I suppose you have to stick around to make sure that I and my loved ones are still breathing when you get your little problem sorted out. But I’m telling you right now, Gideon MacInnes: don’t ever lie to me again. Don’t treat me like you know what’s best for me again.” His brows drew together, and now she could see the temper, dangerous, rising to the surface. Good. Let him lift a finger to her and she’d have his ass thrown in jail.
“And finally,” she hissed, cruising on the wave of her righteous fury, “don’t you dare lay a finger on me again. I’m not a perk, I’m not a fun diversion for your personal amusement, and I am no longer interested. Got it?” She stood there, slightly out of breath, glaring daggers at Gideon while he simply stared back. But when he finally spoke, it was neither the apology she’d wanted nor the anger she’d almost hoped for.
“Are you finished?”
“Excuse me?”
“Because if you’re quite done, I have a few things I’d like to say in response to all those lovely accusations you’ve just flung at me.” He tilted his head, considering her for a moment, his stance making him appear almost relaxed until one got a look at the storm brewing in those eyes.
“Actually, I believe I’ve only got one thing, after all.”
She felt a fierce blush rise to her face, but she kept her eyes locked with his, defiant. He was in the wrong here.
She’d be damned if she’d cede any more of her territory to him.
And he knew. He knew what he was doing to her. She could see it in the way the color of his eyes deepened to rich honey. And even as he closed the distance between them, even as Carly started to feel her knees go weak, she thought, damn you.
If only it hadn’t been accompanied by the thought,
please.
“I do owe you a huge apology, Carly,” Gideon murmured as he slid his arms around her. “And I will protect you, and yours, with my life if I have to. But I will be touching you. And you will be wanting me to. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to apologize for that.”
And then Carly had only herself to curse, because she went from not being able to struggle to not wanting to. He lifted her against him, lowered his head so that his mouth was only a breath away from hers, and then did the thing that proved to be her undoing. He closed his eyes as she watched, helpless, twining those long lashes together. Then he slowly inhaled, taking in all of her, her scent, her breath, and the look on his face was pure ecstasy.
Carly watched him drink her in, felt something within her rise, then fall. And she knew that whoever he was, whatever he was, whatever he’d done, she wouldn’t be sending him away again. The implications, the feelings, she was going to have to take some serious time and sort through later. But for now, feeling every fiber of her being cry out in a kind of joy just to be connected with his again, and knowing, seeing, that Gideon was just as affected, was enough.
Oh, God help me, was her last coherent thought.
t t t
He hadn’t intended to kiss her.
He’d intended to find Carly, corner her, apologize as much as it took, and then make her listen to reason. Kissing, particularly the sort that normally led to the removal of any and all bits of clothing, had not featured anywhere in his genius plan. Of course, having her skin him alive with her words and her hurt and anger hadn’t featured either, but she’d done one hell of a job at that. And he could have taken it, taken all of it and let it be … until she told him he couldn’t touch her, that she didn’t want him, even if every inch of that tight, angry, delicious little body was screaming otherwise loudly enough for him to hear.
Next time, he might do well to remember how the woman affected him. Except he’d tried, and the sight of her, the scent of her, had still taken him down like a ton of bricks. So much for subtlety, Gideon decided as he pulled her into his arms. At least she wasn’t yelling any longer. And despite all of her protestations, Carly didn’t seem to mind.
That was something, at least. And it could be that a kiss, that even the oddly raw sort of passion he felt for her was an acceptable addition to the strategy. But when he’d brought her to him, he felt something inside himself take that last little nudge towards the edge.
And take the fall.
Her eyes, like the sea before a storm, seemed to expand enough to envelop him, and he felt his heart quicken its pace to match hers. He watched the soft pout of her lips part in anticipation, and as that delicious combination of vanilla and ripe, fresh berry, of everything he couldn’t resist flowed off of her and through him, Gideon closed his eyes and stopped fighting what he’d known since the first moment he’d laid eyes on Carly. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">