Page 26 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
“Running from Cranston isn’t an option.” She bit out the words between nearly clenched teeth.
He seemed to digest her words. Lightly, he dropped his hands over her shoulders, as if anticipating she might still bolt. Arrogance flashed in those keenly intelligent eyes. The honesty of the emotion soothed her fears. Just a bit.
“Well, then, ye’d better start telling me what the hell ye’ve got yerself mixed up with. Ye dinnae want to admit it, but I’m the best chance ye’ve got.”
Chapter Ten
“My best chance?” Johanna met MacMasters’s gaze. She would not shrink from this man. Showing any sign that he’d intimidated her wouldn’t do at all.
“Yer best chance of staying alive. I’ll protect ye. Ye can trust that.”
She deliberately cocked a brow. “Trust? I’m not sure I still know the meaning of the word. I have no reason to trust you. Or your brother.”
“Nae, you don’t.” His big hands slid from her shoulders to her upper arms. Not in restraint, but in a touch that spoke of confidence and reassurance. “But as I see it, ye don’t have much choice. If ye decide to leave, there’s the door. I won’t stop ye. As I told ye, I’ll have my chance at whatever ye’ve got in that case once Ross gets his hands on it.”
“It’s only a prize to you, an object you can sell to the highest bidder.” She struggled to keep the strength in her voice. Weakness was unacceptable. With this man, it might well be her downfall. “But I’ve much more at stake. Ever so much more.”
He regarded her for a long moment. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.Say something, damn you.
Finally, he responded. With another touch, at first. He traced the curve of her chin, his expression contemplative, as if he weighed his words carefully.
“What was between you and the man? What drew you to him?”
Infernal Scot, still convinced she’d taken a fancy to Abbott. Did MacMasters believe only a romantic attachment could motivate her involvement in Cranston’s scheme?
Dagger-sharp pain lanced her heart, twisting the blade for good measure. In a sense, MacMasters was right. Her heart had indeed driven her to undertake this devil’s bargain. But Connor didn’t realize her heartache was tied not to a lover, but to a sweet-natured, mischief-prone girl whose eyes reminded Johanna so very much of the sister she’d lost.
“You might say we had a mutual interest,” she replied, purposefully vague.
“In his acquisitions?”
“No.”
MacMasters caught her arms. He pulled her closer. Exquisitely gentle, his fingertips swept over her cheek. “A man like him…I can see why he’d want you. You’re a beauty. More than that, your wit would challenge him.”
“I assure you, Mr. Abbott harbored no such interest.”
“You expect me to believe that?” MacMasters traced the pad of his thumb over her lips. “The man knew a treasure when he saw it.”
She let a little huff escape. Certainly he didn’t think tender touches and dubious tributes to her femininity would win her trust. “Flattery, Mr. MacMasters? I’d no idea you were so skilled at seduction.”
“Seduction?” His mouth lifted at the corners as he repeated the word. “Ye think that’s what this is?”
“It does seem an apt beginning. You’ve complimented both my countenance and my intellectual prowess. Perhaps next, you will endeavor to praise my spirit and my strong passions. In my novels, plying a woman with tributes to her beauty and character are effective to a point—until the heroine realizes spouting platitudes is the verbal equivalent of shoveling manure.”
Those green eyes of his crinkled at the corners. “When I seduce a woman, I dinnae start with words, lass.”
She cocked her chin. Damned if she’d let this brawny Scot intimidate her. “I suppose in your case, you’d bypass sweet platitudes and proceed to tossing alassover your shoulder and carrying her off to your lair.”
Very slowly, he shook his head. His gaze lingered on her mouth. His eyes darkened, suddenly dangerous. “That comes later.”
She swallowed. Hard. Heat inflamed her cheeks. “Later?”
“First, I’d do this.” He dipped his head. His lips nearly brushed hers. So close, his breath seemed a caress. But no contact. No touch of his flesh to hers.
A sense of utterly absurd disappointment flooded her veins. What nonsense was this? She should have felt relief, not this millstone in the pit of her stomach. Had the stress of her predicament finally pushed her past the brink of reason?
She put a hand’s breadth between their bodies. “Precisely what is that intended to accomplish, Mr. MacMasters?”
