Page 5 of Sadie's Highlander


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And he had—but not as Dwyn was thinking. Deep in the tunnels beneath Castle Danu, Alec had sat in the hidden artifact chamber and read each one of the emails to the Heartstone. Such enjoyable missives they were. Alec smiled to himself. Those daily emails had become so entertaining, so warm, and inviting. He’d begun to look forward to their arrival each day.

Dwyn moved to stand directly in front of Alec. He lightly cleared his throat and fixed Alec with the smug look that clearly said he already knew what Alec was trying to hide. “So, what exactly did ye bring before the stone if it not the business with Realm Spinners Productions?”

“The damned emails, if ye must know.” Alec shoved his way around Dwyn and took a stance directly in front of the monitor currently showing the Williams sisters growing more nervousand fidgety by the minute. He smiled to himself when Sadie rose and wandered to the back of the room. Ahh, she’d noticed the books.

A comforting certainty settled across him as Sadie lightly brushed her fingers across the spines of the leather-bound tomes lining the floor-to-ceiling shelves, pausing now and then when a title caught her eye. Interest lit her features as she drew closer to the shelves, her smile growing as though she’d just discovered a treasure.

He’d known the lass would cherish the written word. How else could she write such engaging letters?

Dwyn chuckled; the bubbling, pleased-with-himself sound irritated Alec even more. “And did our beloved Heartstone warm to these emails that ye found so enthralling or did it remain cold and silent?”

The all-knowing Heartstone had in fact warmed. Its ancient sigil, the triple knot of the goddesses, had softly glowed as though a fire burned within. It was the sign the Heartstone always gave when it deemed a particular venture worthy of its blessing—the blessing it gave only when the sacred stone sensed enough hope, creativity, or love in a matter to consider pursuing. After all, that was the Heartstone’s duty—to guarantee that none of those elements ever disappeared from humanity.

“So, it warmed to them?” Dwyn asked in a self-satisfied tone.

“Aye, it did warm, ye stubborn bastard. Do ye find that pleasing?” Alec scooped up the controls for the camera in the meeting room, adjusted the angle of the picture completely away from Delia, and zoomed in on Sadie, who was still slowly perusing her way through the shelves.

“Ye like her.” Dwyn joined Alec in front of the screens. “I’ve never seen ye behave this way before.” He motioned toward the screen. “Ye’ve never been impressed with any woman I’ve ever put before ye—ye’re always too busy tending to yer duties. Andyet ye seem drawn to this particular one. What is it about this one that catches yer eye so?”

What was it about Sadie Williams? For the life of him, he couldn’t say for certain. His interest had started with the intriguing emails—the engaging missives filled with imaginative anecdotes about film companies and the humorous life behind the so-called glamorous world of what he’d decided could only be described as an adult’s form of make-believe.

And then he’d seen her. A delightful dark-haired lass with curves aplenty and a smile as bright as the sun. She also appeared honest to a fault, completely incapable of filtering the words that tumbled out of her mouth. Aye, he liked her. Very much. Perhaps too much for his own good.

Alec followed Sadie with the camera, memorizing her every mannerism: the way she twisted and twirled a dark tress around one finger while chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. The nervous tapping of her thumb on her crossed arms as her gaze scanned the classic titles lining the shelves. He smiled as she rolled up onto the balls of her feet, stretching to her tiptoes and leaning into the shelves, her dark brows arched—she looked like a wee kitten discovering its first mousie. Aye, he liked her and wanted to know her better.

Always focused on protecting his family and serving the goddesses as a descendant of the ancient line of druids sworn to protect the Heartstone, Alec had no time for the women of this century—at least none that required a commitment. Commitment meant he’d have to tell them of his origins. How he’d been born and thought he’d live and eventually die in the tenth century until the goddesses Danu, Scota, and Bride had swept the MacDara clan to the twenty-first century along with the Heartstone and the four sacred weapons. The goddesses had done this to save his family’s lives as well as the blessed artifacts.In all his thirty-five years, he’d never met a woman he felt he could trust with such information. Had he finally met her today?

Alec shook himself free of his muddled thoughts. ’Twas too soon to entertain such. There would be time enough for sorting through all that later—if Mistress Williams accepted his offer. “We’ve had them wait long enough. Signal Grant, Ramsay, Ross, and Father. Tell them it’s time.”

Dwyn nodded and headed toward the door. “I’ll bring them myself. I take it ye’ll be going on to the meeting room?”

“Aye.” Alec took the remote and shut off the monitors. “I’d like a few words with those two before the rest of ye arrive.”

Alec yankedopen the hidden side door to the windowless meeting room deep within MacDara Keep. It gave him no small amount of satisfaction to see Delia jerk around in her seat and press a hand to the base of her throat. He’d startled her. Good. ’Twas as sure a sign of guilt and dishonesty if he was ever to see it.He didn’t like that woman. Not one damn bit.

“My brothers and father will join us in a few moments to discuss the terms of the agreement ye wish us to accept.” Alec took a seat in the largest of the six leather wingback chairs centered on the opposite side of the black marble table running the width of the room. The Williams sisters sat in two significantly smaller leather chairs across from him. Their seats had no arms and the ramrod-straight backs made the chairs aesthetically pleasing to look at, but Alec had specifically selected them because they were quite uncomfortable to sit in for any length of time. Meetings were a waste of time. Uncomfortable guests got to the crux of their issues more quickly.

The women perched on the edge of their seats as though waiting to be interrogated. Their seats were isolated, the only chairs on that side of the table. Brilliant floodlights aimed directly at them, chasing all hints of shadow from their faces.

The cold blue accent lights washing out Sadie’s and Delia’s features were a direct contrast to the torch-like sconces marching down both sides of the room. The bronze sconces flickered with a rich golden glow as though holding captive real flames. The warm lighting brought to life the luxurious grain of the highly polished mahogany paneling of the walls. Columns of gray stone blocks carefully fitted together and locked in place without any visible mortar were evenly spaced between the elegantly mitered and molded wooden panels, marching down the length of the room like cold, silent sentries.

Alec didn’t say a word. Just stared at the women—mainly Delia. Doing his best to project just how little he thought of her. Sometimes silence was the best way to unnerve a foe. Give the enemy enough rope and they often hanged themselves.

Sadie squirmed in her seat and drummed her fingertips along the edge of the electronic tablet resting on the table in front of her. With a nervous smile, she glanced back over one shoulder and nodded toward the bookcase. “You’ve got quite a collection on those shelves. Some of the greatest reads ever written. I hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t resist checking them out.”

Before Alec could respond, Delia hitched her chair a few inches closer to the table, snatched up the tablet, and shoved it into Sadie’s hands. “Take notes, Sadie. Assistants should be seen and not heard—remember?”

Ruthless wench.If they were back in the tenth century, he’d have the insulting bitch burnt at the stake for witchcraft. She was nothing but the darkest evil. He was certain of it.

“On the contrary . . .” Alec leaned forward, propping his forearms atop the cool black marble of the table while slowly lacing his fingers together. Oh, what a pleasure it would be to choke the evil right out of her. He clenched his hands tighter, glaring at Delia. No. He must hold fast. He didn’t wish to frighten the sweet writer of the emails.

He stole a glance at Sadie, took a deep, calming breath, then turned his attention back to Delia. “Ye best listen well and treat yer sister with a bit more respect. Yerassistantcould verra well be the determining factor in this wee deal ye wish us to forge.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Delia’s tone shifted from an insulted snarl to a barely controlled hiss of wariness.

“I dinna trust ye.” Alec jabbed a finger at Delia, pointing dead square where the woman’s heart would be if she had one—and he very much doubted that she did. “I dinna think ye could tell the truth if yer life depended on it. Yer deceit reeks like rotting fish.”

Delia pushed up from the chair, knuckling her tightly clenched fists atop the table. “I did not come here to be insulted. If you don’t wish to accept our terms, just say so, Mr. MacDara, and we’ll waste no more of your time.”