Page 88 of The Highlander Who Loved Me
“Perhaps I shall.”
Her mouth curved. Not a smile. Rather, a look of regret. Did she rue ever touching him, ever sharing his breaths and merging their heartbeats? God above, he’d been an idiot. After all the women he’d bedded in his life, he’d gone and lost his head over this one. But Johanna had provided the remedy for that, hadn’t she?
“Be sure to include the line about the knight and the dragon. Classic, that bit of dialogue.”
She offered a small nod, as if it pained her to even acknowledge him. “There’s no point pretending what happened last night was anything more than a brief, albeit lovely, indiscretion. I am not an ingénue. Nor am I some skittish virgin grieving her maidenhood. We shared something beautiful, something quite remarkable, really. But sadly, it changes nothing.”
“Bluidy hell it doesn’t. It changes everything.”
She slowly shook her head. “Is that why you led me to believe you would convey me to Cranston when you have no intention of doing so? Because everything is different? Because one night of carnal passion changed the bond between us? Which are the pretty lies? And what is the truth? I want to believe you. Heaven only knows I do. If things were different…perhaps, just maybe, I’d tell myself what happened last night was more than a mere tumble between the sheets. I’d tell myself we were brought together by fate. Meant to be, as they say. But I cannot afford that beautiful fantasy. Not now.”
“I won’t lead ye into a trap. Ye won’t save the bairn by sacrificing yerself.”
Johanna squared her shoulders. “I have no intention of sacrificing myself. I don’t deny the possibility exists that events may take…an unfortunate turn. But as I see it, I’ve little choice. You, on the other hand, have the option to walk away. I never meant to drag you into this horrid situation. I never wanted you to put yourself in danger. You charged in to rescue the damsel you believed to be in distress, and in the process, you’ve mired both of us in a considerable quagmire.”
“I willnae leave ye, Johanna.”
Again, she shook her head, the gesture so subtle, he wondered if she’d even been conscious of the movement. “You will. In time. Even if we’re together when we deliver the ransom, in time, you will walk away.”
Something in her tone pierced him to the core. The lass had so little faith. In his character. In his word as a man. Inhim.
Silent and pensive, she seemed to study him. Damnation, why couldn’t she be like the others who’d shared his bed? Why did this woman, above all others, drive him to the brink of a madness of his own creation? Why did he even give a piper’s damn if she believed in him? He’d shielded her from men who’d use her beauty until there was nothing left to take. He’d stuck out his own neck to protect her. Even now, he could take the book and go after the stone on his own, leaving her adrift. Why did the look in those beautiful eyes—blue as sapphires—warm his soul at times and wield a punch to the gut at others? How had she made him question so much?
In truth, he could not fault her lack of trust. Though he’d protected her from ruffians, he’d offered no reason to believe he hadn’t acted out of his own interests. He knew well enough how to seduce a lass. But he’d never uttered the words that might soothe the doubts that nettled her, the tender affirmations that spoke of her place at his side, of the way she nourished his soul.
“After this is over, you’ll go to Dunnhaven,” she went on. “I will return to London. And from there, to my home in Philadelphia. In time, Laurel will love the city. I will have memories of you. Some sweet. Some passionate. Some infuriating. Perhaps, you will experience the same. But there will be nothing more…no bond that’s meant to endure.”
He met her gaze and found his voice. “Ye’ve no faith in me, lass. That’s a bluidy shame.”
Another tear escaped her shuttered lashes. A small shudder quaked her shoulders. “If I harbored no trust in you, I would never have put myself in this position. But that’s not enough. I must do whatever it takes to save my niece. Nothing you say will change that.”
He heard the hard truth in her words. Saw the unwavering set of her chin and the glint in her eyes. There’d be no dissuading Johanna from a path that might well lead to her death. Blast it, the lass was hardheaded. Just as mule-stubborn as himself. But he couldn’t abandon her. No matter the cost.
Johanna was proud. Firm in her resolve. Courageous. She knew the danger she faced. He could see it in her eyes. A flicker of apprehension cooled those beautiful indigo irises. But she only squared her shoulders and met her fear head on.
How could he do any less?
“Verrae well, then,” he said, ignoring the voice in his head bellowing that he was a damned fool. “I’ll see ye to the devil.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Johanna paced the inn’s small carriage house, tension filling her every cell as Connor and Gerard mapped out the logistics of their scheme. The brothers hashed through their strategy with the attention to detail of men well accustomed to covert planning. If only Johanna’s limbs did not quake ever so slightly while her pulse thudded in her ears. Soon, this nightmare would be over, she reassured herself. Laurel would be safe, and life would return to normal.
Without danger. Without passion.
Without Connor.
Devil take it, the very thought of an existence bereft of the sweetness of his kiss and the wickedness of his touch sent her stomach plummeting. The challenge in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Especially now that she’d known the incomparable bliss to be found in his ardent desire.
This longing was a temporary madness. Nothing more. After she returned to London, she’d make arrangements to sail to Philadelphia and move along smartly, without a stubborn, arrogant warrior of a man to distract her from her pursuits. She’d left behind a novel half-completed in London. The voyage home would provide healing time to resume that manuscript. Perhaps she’d even finish the draft before she arrived in America. Once there, she’d find a skilled tutor to nurture Laurel’s precocious abilities, or better yet, a school where the child might develop friendships.
And Johanna would get on with her life.
Soon, this time in the Highlands would be a mere recollection, both bitter and glorious. A single chapter in her life, marked by danger and fear, and, ultimately, she hoped, triumph. Of course, she’d have the luscious memory of making love with Connor. He would always be a part of her heart. Nothing and no one could change that. Not even him.
Swallowing against the emotion that seared her throat, she moved to stand at Gerard’s side. He still affected the look of an elderly traveler. He’d done a fine job of applying just enough powder and shadowed coloring to simulate the look of a man decades older, and his clothing was cut loose, camouflaging his well-muscled shoulders and arms. Still, the taut, caged energy of his movements struck Johanna as wildly incongruous with his artificially lined face and whitened hair. Once they were on their way, he would alter his manner to fit the visage, adding to the effectiveness of his disguise.
Posing as a carriage driver, Gerard would escort Johanna to Cranston’s castle near Loch Ness. His presence would be readily justified. After all, a lady would not gallop up on horseback, nor did she possess a carriage for transport. A hired hack would be a necessity. With any luck, a necessity that would not be questioned.
