“Perhaps.”
“Me name is Ewan, me Lady.”
“I’m nae a lady. I’m just Megan.”
Ewan tilted his head at that and glanced over at his laird.
Laird MacCulloch was watching Megan with a close, wry expression. He had the sort of shuttered face that was difficult to read, which made her a little uncomfortable.
Around them, the rain fell harder. Megan’s thick hair only got wet slowly, but she could feel it becoming wetter. Water splattered into puddles around them, and people huddled under whatever shelter they could find.
I miss me sisters.
“Come,” Laird MacCulloch said abruptly. “We should go inside. We’ll speak in me study, Megan.”
Once again, he turned on his heel and strode off. Ewan followed him, glancing briefly back at her. Once again, it was left to Megan to decide whether to follow them.
I’ve come this far, so I might as well go a wee bit further,she thought moodily.If it were a trap, he could have swept me up in the clearin’. Or anytime just now, I suppose. This is his Keep and his clan.
The main thing that kept her going, it seemed, wascuriosity. Shewantedto know what he wanted from her. Why the secrecy? Why thecompetition?
She had questions, and it was pretty clear that this strange man wasn’t going to answer them out in the open, like a normal person.
He hurried up the stone steps into the Keep, two at a time. The door was a massive, arched stone entrance, and then he finally paused, glancing down at where she stood at the bottom.
“Comin’?” he asked lightly.
Megan sighed. “I daenae understand. Why set up this whole thing to get me here? Why lie about me faither’s treasure bein’ found?”
He shrugged. “I had to figure out a way to bring ye to me, didn’t I? I only had one shot at it.”
“Why did ye only have one shot?”
He glanced at Ewan and made a brief gesture. Ewan paused just for a moment, then moved away, disappearing into the darkness of the Keep.
“So ye admit it, then?” Megan pressed. “This was a trap, was it, Laird MacCulloch?”
“Call me Ryder. Laird MacCulloch feels like a title which belongs to an older man,” he responded. “And if it was a trap, it worked. I prefer to call it a flawless strategy, because ye are here now, eh?”
This was undeniable evidence. Megan pressed her lips together, folding her arms. “It might nae have worked.”
He shrugged. “It did, though. Besides,” he leaned forward, grinning like a wolf. “I could always have snatched ye up and carried ye away on me shoulder. Shouldnae ye be more grateful I gave ye the illusion of a choice?”
Megan had a sudden, powerful image of him doing just that, swinging her up onto his shoulder in his strong arms and walking away, effortlessly. She felt color rush into her cheeks, along with a twinge of something she could not quite identify, deep down in her gut.
“Ye could havetried!” she snapped back.
Ryder smirked. “That blush of yers is adorable. Now, follow me. We have much to talk about.”
CHAPTER 3
Megan was followinghim before she even realized what she was doing. He led her down a high-walled stone corridor and abruptly stopped at a discreet wooden door. He slipped inside, leaving the door open for her.
Megan stuck her head inside and was surprised to find thatthiswas the Laird’s study.
“I was expectin’ somethin’ showier,” she remarked, stepping inside.
The room was small, with no tapestries on the walls, and ringed with bookshelves. The shelves were crammed with tomes, manuscripts—scrollseven—cluttered with boxes and trinkets set carefully in between. The room was dominated by a wide desk, hewn roughly from good wood, with a chair set behind it and a stool in front.
