Susana leaned against a tree and stared out at the garden. It was beautiful in the rose light of sunset. She loved coming here to watch the evening fall, and after a day like today she sorely needed the simple peace. But as beautiful as it was, it didn’t calm her soul.
Memories of the kiss in the smoke room and her subsequent fury kept intruding.
Damn the man, for kissing her again, for leading her back to that place where she felt alive and feminine and … vulnerable. As exhilarating and frightening and agonizing as it was … she wanted more.
She needed to make a vow to never let him get close to her again. To never let him kiss her again.
But she didn’t think she could. If she was being truthful, if he so much as crooked a finger at her, she would follow.
That was the most bothersome part of all.
She’d thought she’d taken charge of her life. She’d thought she’d built a wall that protected her, but it was all a flimsy facade. All it took was a look, a wink, a smile and her defenses crumbled to dust.
Though she’d convinced herself she was over him, that he was a dim memory from her past, she’d never forgotten him. Not really. She’d never gotten over the heartbreak. The pain in her chest was a testament to that.
The worst part of it all was the knowledge that even though he was a faithless philanderer, a seducer of legions … she still wanted him. She still became a malleable lump of hungry flesh in his arms.
Since she couldn’t resist him, her best bet was to avoid him.
Even that was a painful thought. Some small hidden part of her being rejoiced in the fact that he was here. That they might have a second chance. That was the foolish part of her being, she decided. Because the only second chance his presence here represented was a second chance to break her heart. It was—
“Susana…”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the deep voice behind her, intruding on her melancholy. She ignored the flicker of disappointment that it wasn’t Andrew.
“Hamish.” With a sigh, she turned to greet him. Ach, he was bonny and braw. He seemed to be a nice man. Why couldn’t she have met a man like him before her heart was shattered?
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jerkin and strolled toward her. The expression in his eyes gave her pause. It was far too predatory for her liking. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?” He didn’t seem interested in the evening in the slightest. His gaze was locked on her. To be precise, on her lips.
What was it about men and their fascination with lips?
“It’s going to rain.”
He smiled. It was a charming smile, but it lacked … something.
It was probably wrong to compare him with Andrew. Though he was an extraordinarily handsome man, he would never measure up. Those sparkling eyes, not quite as intent. That grin, not cocky enough.
But then, she compared every man with Andrew on some level. She had for six years. And no man ever measured up.
“I find I like the rain.” He set his palm on the tree behind her and leaned in.
Oh, dear. He was far too close. She tipped up her chin to study him.
“I find I like you.” He tangled his fingers in her hair.
She resisted the urge to laugh. His seduction was far from subtle. “Do you?”
“Aye.” He stroked her cheek with a thumb.
“Surely you doona intend to kiss me.”
He blinked. “I do. I’ve been thinking about kissing you from the moment we met. Have you thought about it?”
“No,” she said truthfully. She hadn’t been able to think of any other man, any other lips since she’d set eyes on Andrew.
Hamish set his palm to his chest. “You wound me, Miss Dounreay.”
She did laugh then. “I’m sure you shall survive.”
His eyes twinkled. “I love your laugh,” he whispered. His gaze intensified as he bent his head. His lips brushed hers, lingered. She allowed it, but only because he was gentle and sweet. And because he needed to realize there was no reason to continue this pursuit. When she didn’t respond—whatsoever—he lifted his head and sighed. “Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
He offered a sheepish grin. “I thought not, but I had to try.”
“Of course.” He was a nice man, and comfortable company. She never felt at ease around Andrew. Around Andrew, everything was a tumult. Susana found she rather liked Hamish’s tranquil companionship.
He stepped back and stared out at the sea, now painted in reds and pinks. “Aye. A lost cause from the beginning, I suppose, this seduction.”
“Is that what this was?” A simple kiss, a testing kiss?
He chuckled and raked his fingers through his red curls. “Perhaps not. But … I wanted to know.”
“Know what?”
“If there was a chance.”
Poor man. A chance? There hadn’t been a chance for any man with her. Not for six years. Not since a tall, charming boy with silver locks pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
“I couldna help noticing…”
Susana didn’t like the shift in Hamish’s tone; it went from playful to contemplative in a heartbeat. She frowned at him. “Couldna help noticing what?”
“The way you look at him.”
Her nape prickled. “Him?”
“Andrew. Are you interested in him?”
“Nae.” The word came out of its own accord. Probably force of habit.
Hamish’s eyes glinted. “And I couldna help noticing the way he looks at you.”
She stepped away and crossed her arms, ignoring the trill of excitement his words evoked. “Really?”
“Quite curious, those looks. Considering…”
“Considering what?”
“Considering the fact you both deny an interest in each other. Yet when you are together, the energy between you is palpable.”
“Nonsense.”
“I also couldna help noticing something else.” Like a playful boy, he used the tree limb as leverage to swing around and face her. “Something verra interesting.”
She stilled. “What?”
“How much your daughter resembles him. Curious that, considering you both proclaim you’ve never met before.”
Her heart froze. She frowned at him.
“Same smile. Same eyes. And those dimples?”
“Doona be ridiculous.”
“I’ve never seen hair quite that color … except in the Silver Lochlannachs.”
“Many people have blond hair.”
“Not that exact color. And then there’s the odd fact that the both of you were in Perth six years ago. And your daughter is … what? Five?”
“Lots of people were in Perth six years ago. Besides … ask him. If he and I ever met, he doesna remember.”
Hamish tipped his head to the side and grinned. “Ah. Is that what it’s about then?”
“What?”
“Your resentment of him?”
“I doona resent him.”
“Liar.” There was no heat in the word. “The two of you met in Perth, had some torrid affair. You found you were with child and fled home … and now, when you meet him again, he doesna even remember.”
He was far too clever. And observant. “Doona be daft.”
“Deny it if you will, but you know the truth.” He offered another grin. It was tinged with something that might have been sympathy. “And so do I.”
“Did you really come here to kiss me? Or to try to uncover all my secrets?”
“Both.” He winked. “I believe I’ve accomplished both.”
Susana sighed. She couldn’t deny it. In fact, she no longer wanted to. “Are you going to tell him?”
“It’s not my place.”
“Isn’t it? You’re his friend.”
“Aye. But it’s not my place to tell him. It’s yours.”
“Bluidy hell.”
“He deserves to know. It would be better coming from you. I know Andrew can be rather oblivious sometimes, but he will figure it out. At some point. It would be better if you told him first. And he does … deserve to know.”
“Does he?” She fisted her hips. “He’s a faithless seducer. He flits from woman to woman. He canna remember the name of the last girl he kissed.”
Hamish laughed, threw back his head and howled. “Is that what he told you?”
“Nae. He said he remembered but couldna tell me for some strange reason.”
“He couldna tell you because it would have made you furious.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Why?”
“Because the last woman he kissed was Lana.”
Her stomach lurched.
“Oh, doona glower so.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because Alexander saw the kiss.” He threw out his arms. “It’s likely why we are here. Exiled. It’s really rather funny, if you think about it.”
She would not think about it. “I believe it proves my point. He is a faithless philanderer.”
“He isna. I know for a fact, while he’s kissed many women … he hasna been in a relationship for a long time. Since…” His eyes narrowed. “Since he returned from Perth, in fact. Something happened there that changed him.”
Aye. He fell in love with Kirstie Gunn. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you need to know. You need to give him a chance.”
Hah! She gave him a chance six years ago and he nearly destroyed her.
Hamish’s expression firmed. “He’s a good man, Susana.”
She snorted.
“He needs this.”
Something in his tone captured her attention. “He needs this?” This … what?
“He needs a chance to prove himself to his brother. He feels he owes Alexander a debt. It’s been a heavy weight on his soul his whole life. He sees this opportunity as a chance to … pay him back.”
“For what?”
“For saving his life. A man has to feel like a man, Susana.”
She frowned at him.
“Take my advice. Take the time to get to know him better. You’ll find he’s not the man you think he is.” He turned away, and then stopped. “And Susana?”
“Aye?”
“You need to tell him the truth about Isobel.”
Ach. He was right. Damn him to hell. He was right.
A pity she didn’t have the courage to do so.
She sighed as she watched Hamish make his way toward the castle.
She was tired of it all, of this battle between Andrew and herself. Or perhaps it was her inner battle she was tired of. She wasn’t a fool. She knew her resistance stemmed from her fear of being used by him; her desire for just that annoyed her mightily. It created in inner turmoil that kept her awake at night.
Or perhaps that was simply hunger. For him. Spurred by the parade of memories from that enchanting affair so long ago, and the kisses they’d shared so recently.
Her logical mind advised that she avoid him like the plague, but her body wanted something else entirely.
A tantalizing thought bubbled in her brain. It wouldn’t be silenced.
She leaned back and stared at the panoply of colors that was the waning day, a kernel of an idea sprouting in her head.
What if he wasn’t the one doing the using? What if she seduced him? Took what she wanted? How would she feel about it then?
The more she thought on it, the more convinced she became that it was an excellent notion. Why should she not take what she wanted? He would surely give it.
She was a grown woman. With a child. Hardly a maiden. Hardly a green girl who would fall in love with a man just because he’d kissed her. Seduced her.
Surely she was stronger than that. Surely she’d been through enough to know better than that.
If she wanted to seduce a man, she could.
And as for the fear that he could take what he wanted and walk away … Well, so could she.
She could be heartless, too.
* * *
Andrew decided to spend the time remaining before dinner with Hamish in Magnus’s study, scouring maps of the castle and outlying grounds, making note of where he’d seen weaknesses in the defenses. Alexander was counting on him. And as far as that went, Andrew had no doubt he could prove himself worthy. He was nothing if not skilled in battle strategy.
After his realization yesterday that he would be a fool to wait for any support from Susana, he’d met with Hamish and his men, including the men Alexander had previously sent to Dounreay. Using what little information they had gathered, and what he’d learned from Keir, Andrew had formed an estimation of the current defenses. It was not impressive. They had developed a preliminary plan of action and set those changes in motion. Now it was time for a deeper assessment.
As they entered the study, Hamish grinned at him; the mischief in his expression was difficult to ignore. “What?” Andrew clipped.
Hamish stroked his beard and shrugged. “Nothing.”
“I know that look. It’s not nothing.”
“I just had an … interesting conversation with our hostess.”
Andrew snorted. She was hardly hospitable. And then curiosity prickled. “What did you talk about?”
Hamish’s grin only widened. He picked up a quill and toyed with it in a truly annoying fashion. “She’s rather attractive.” She was. “Are you sure you doona intend to seduce her?”
Heat rose on his neck. Blast. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not in the least. And certainly not with Hamish. “Are we going to review the maps?”
“Of course. But I’m curious. About whether or not you intend to seduce her.”
“The woman cannot stand the sight of me.” The truth of it burned in his belly.
Hamish chuckled. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”
True. It never had. He’d always been able to charm away any resistance. Then again, he’d never felt this sense of futility before. Or this sense of determination.
Would he attempt to kiss her again?
The moment he saw his chance.
“I think she likes you.”
He gaped at Hamish. “Where on earth did you get that notion?”
“Just a hunch.”
Aye, now the smirk was exceedingly irritating. “What did the two of you talk about?” Curiosity jabbed him like a lance.
“This and that. The weather. Games of chance. Her … daughter.” Hamish’s expression was inscrutable.
“It sounds fascinating indeed.”
“Susana Dounreay is a fascinating woman—”
Hamish stilled as a muffled snort sounded from behind the desk. He shot a perplexed glance at Andrew and headed over to investigate the source of it. Peering over the back of the desk, he chuckled. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Hiding,” a high-pitched voice responded. Andrew flinched. He knew that voice. And bluidy hell, Isobel had heard their entire conversation. He quickly thought back, trying to remember what he’d said.
Hamish held out a hand and lifted her up. As she emerged, she fixed her blue gaze on Andrew. Her nose wrinkled.
“You’re hiding?” Hamish brushed the dust from her skirts. “From whom?”
“Torquil.”
“I see. And who is Torquil?”
“The beekeeper. He’s cross.” She tossed herself into Magnus’s chair and swung her legs.
“And why is he cross?”
She shrugged.
“Any idea at all?” Hamish asked gently.
“I … might have used the hives for target practice again.” When Hamish gaped at her, she felt the need to add, “But only a little.”
“Ah.”
“The bees were verra angry,” she confided. “They chased Torquil into the loch. And then he chased me. So I hid here. No one ever comes here.” This, in an accusing tone.
“You are a menace, you know,” Hamish said fondly … because he had no clue what a menace she really was.
Isobel responded with a grin. It bothered Andrew, watching their casual exchange, seeing the admiration in her eyes for his friend. He didn’t know why.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Plotting our strategies.”
“Huh,” Isobel said. “Where’s Mama?”
Hamish shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Mama willna like that she’s not helping.”
“Hush,” Hamish said.
The sudden fury on her tiny features was amusing. Mostly because it was leveled on Hamish. Why her expression reminded Andrew of his brother when he was vexed, he didn’t know, but it did. “I was just trying to warn you,” she muttered. “And I doona like when people tell me to hush.”
Hamish affected a mocking bow. “A thousand pardons, my lady.”
Isobel wasn’t mollified by his mocking apology. She glared at him. “I doona think I like you after all.”
Hamish blinked. “Did you? At one point?”
“I thought you would be a good husband for my mama.”
“Did you?” Hamish smirked at Andrew; it was a challenge not to smack him. “Why did you think I would be a good husband for your mama?”
“Because you both have red hair.” Ah. Logical. “But now I’m not so sure.”
Andrew couldn’t help but add to the conversation. “In case it has escaped your attention, your mama doesna want a husband.”
Isobel put out a lip. “I know that. But she needs one. Sometimes we doona want things we need. Or at least that’s what she tells me when it’s time to eat my vegetables.”
Something in her expression spoke to him. “Do you want a father, Isobel?” he asked. He didn’t know why. This was a rhetorical conversation at best. A ridiculous one at worst.
She toyed with the twill on her gown. Shrugged. “I’d like a brother or sister I suppose. And someone who could teach me things.”
“Your mama can teach you things.”
“She’s a girl!” she huffed. “I want to learn the things boys know.”
“Magnus then—”
“Too old. And he creaks when he walks. And when I ask him some things, he just frowns at me and mutters under his breath about the good old days when women knew their place.”
“That would be exasperating, I suppose.”
“You have no idea.”
“Well, you can ask me things, if you like.” He didn’t know why he offered, but he was glad he did when she fixed her attention on him and smiled. It was a beautiful smile. Pure and sweet and filled with gratitude. In a sudden epiphany, it occurred to him that having Isobel on his side might help in his hopeless pursuit of her mother.
The thought was beneath him, but it was still there.
Her lashes fluttered. “Can I ask you anything?”
“Aye. Anything.”
“And you willna grumble and mutter and pat me on the head and tell me to run along and play?”
He was aware that Hamish was staring at him with something akin to horror, but he pressed forward nonetheless. “I wouldna dream of it.”
“Excellent.” She folded her fingers in her lap and tipped her head. “First off, what does seduce mean?”
His confidence deflated like a bagpipe that had been skewered by an arrow. A similar sound might have wheezed from him. “I … ah…” He glanced at Hamish, whose expression made it clear that Andrew had made this particular bed. Now he could lie in it.
His lips flapped. His mind spun. He could fob her off, but that would ruin this fragile camaraderie. Or he could lie to her, which would hardly be fair to her when she got older. Or he could tell her the truth in which case Susana would have his guts for garters.
He decided a combination would be wise.
“Seduce means to try to get someone to do something you want them to do.”
“I see…” She tapped her lip. “Such as?”
Fook.
“Ah … Kiss you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is this about kissing?”
Andrew swallowed heavily, nodded lightly.
“So, do you?” she chirruped.
“Do I what?”
“Do you intend to seduce my mama?”
He gaped at her. His lips might have flapped.
“Because you never answered when he asked.” She jabbed her thumb at Hamish, who had the gall to bat his lashes. “Do you want to kiss my mama?”
Andrew scrubbed his face with a palm. Why on earth had he offered to be honest with her?
“Well, do you?”
“If I tell you, will you run and play and leave us in peace?” At her vitriolic glower, he added, “I’m asking you, not telling you.”
Her frown melted away. “In that case, aye. If you answer my question, I will run and play.” Although she did spit the words.
“All right, then. Aye. I would verra much like to kiss your mama.”
Her smile was smug and her expression was far too contemplative for his liking, but she did leave them then.
Although it was hardly in peace.