Page 4 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

F reyja tore her gaze from the stranger. It was far harder than it had any right to be, especially since sweet Ban was in such difficulties. She gripped the piece of blanket expectantly, and then almost forgot how to breathe when the man crouched beside her.

“How can I help?’ His voice was hushed and the very sound of it sent illicit shivers skating through her blood before colliding between her thighs. How... mortifying .

Did he have to be so close to her? The evocative scent of leather and woodlands momentarily dazed her senses before she forced such foolishness aside. She’d not lose any of the puppies if she could help it, and she licked her dry lips and jerked her head at the bundle by her knees.

“The pup needs warmth. Pick him up and hold him close while I deliver this poor wee creature.”

“Like this?” He held the puppy, wrapped in a piece of the birthing blanket she’d had with her, at arm’s length, as though he’d never held a newborn puppy before. But she supposed she couldn’t hold that against him. Not many men would have.

“Hold him against yer chest.” She only just managed to stop herself from admiring his fine chest, which filled out his shirt most admirably.

Hastily, she returned her attention to her task.

The puppy was stuck, and now she could focus on helping Ban deliver without worrying about the first pup.

“I got him breathing, but he needs bodily contact.”

The stranger gave a grunt of what sounded suspiciously like alarm, but she couldn’t waste time soothing his manly pride right now. If she didn’t get this pup out, Ban would die.

She wrapped the bit of blanket around her hands before gently grasping the puppy’s shoulders and pulling it down with Ban’s contraction. “Come on, lass,” she whispered.

It took longer than she liked, but finally the pup slid out onto her hands, and she hastily cleared its nose and mouth. The poor wee thing was as lifeless as her brother had been, and after she cut the cord, she wrapped a length of the blanket around the tiny body and blew on her face.

Nothing happened. She shifted position and gently rubbed a dry corner of the blanket over the pup to get her vitals working.

Come on.

Time stood still as she worked on the pup, and kept an eye on Ban, who thankfully wasn’t in distress as she licked up the afterbirth with relish. When the pup gave a wee shiver and hitched in a breath, relief rushed through her leaving her lightheaded.

“Thank ye, blessed Eir.” She sent her customary prayer to the ancient Norse goddess of healing, and even though usually her patients were women and bairns, and these were puppies, at the end of the day they were all babes in her eyes.

She held the pup against her breast and chanced giving the fair-headed man by her side a quick glance.

And then couldn’t look away.

He cradled the puppy she’d handed to him against his chest, and there was an expression of fierce concentration on his face, as he eyed his charge with clear trepidation.

It was unaccountably endearing, and it took her more than a few moments to realize she was smiling at him in a completely ridiculous manner.

Who was he? She was familiar with most of the inhabitants of the Small Isles, and if she’d ever met this man before, she wouldn’t have forgotten it. Or him.

Especially him.

Was he a MacDonald from the mainland, visiting her grandfather?

“Am I doing this wrong?” He caught her gaze, and his deep brown eyes, framed with thick black lashes that no man had any right to possess, were frankly bedazzling.

Good Lord, what foolishness was she thinking? Bedazzling? It was the kind of thing Roisin would imagine. And it was more than a little disconcerting.

“Not at all,” she responded, but her voice sounded alarmingly husky, and she cleared her throat before she had the chance to further embarrass herself. “Indeed, I must thank ye, for I’m certain he wouldn’t have survived without ye.”

He smiled, dissolving the tension that had wreathed his features and she all but melted on the spot. The sensation was most inconvenient. And irregular.

And annoyingly irresistible.

“I’m glad to have been of assistance. I confess, I’ve never done anything like this before. Do ye often birth puppies?”

She laughed. “I do not. But when I saw poor Ban in distress, I had to help. Anyone would’ve done the same.

” Except she knew that wasn’t true. Although here, on Rum, it was likely someone would’ve assisted Ban if they had found her.

The hound was, after all, her grandfather’s favorite.

“D’ye mind holding this wee one? I must cut a length from my blanket for the next arrival. ”

Gingerly, he eased one hand away from the pup he held, and she carefully transferred the second pup to him. Her fingers brushed against his, and jagged lightning streaked across her skin at the contact, causing her heart to slam painfully within her chest.

How utterly absurd . Was she sickening with something?

Hastily she pulled back, gripped her dagger, and cut through her blanket.

As she glanced over her shoulder to check on Dubh, who sat patiently behind her, his bright gaze fixed on Ban in seeming empathy, her grandfather’s steward, Miles, came into the stable.

“Thank God,” he said with feeling, his gaze fixed on Ban.

“Aye, ’twas lucky I arrived when I did and saw her in difficulties. Poor lass was struggling.”

“I’ve had the servants searching the whole damn Tower for her. Ranulph will be relieved all is well.”

“How is he?” Anxiety threaded through her question as she tore her watchful gaze from Ban to Miles. The two men had grown up together, and she knew that, after herself and her sisters, there was no one who loved her Afi as well as Miles did.

“He’ll be all the better for seeing ye, lass. Don’t worry. He’s resting. I’ll let him know ye’ve arrived when he wakes.”

Then Miles’ glance slid to the stranger by her side, and a definite smirk twisted his mouth. “I see ye’ve met our Campbell guest.”

A Campbell? It was foolish, and yet she couldn’t help the flare of disappointment that he wasn’t, after all, a MacDonald. But then she caught his glance, and the amusement gleaming in his dark eyes vanquished the thread of regret in an instant.

“A Campbell, are ye?” She ran a gentle hand over Ban’s belly. “Well, I’ll forgive ye, seeing how ye helped save two puppies’ lives.”

“Alasdair Campbell, at yer service.” He gave a wee bow of his head, and it was utterly charming, not least since he still tenderly held the pups against his chest. “I’m honored to make yer acquaintance.”

There was a definite question implied, and she couldn’t help returning his smile. “My name is Freyja MacDonald, and Campbell or not, I’m also honored to make yer acquaintance.”

His smile faltered, and for a heartbeat, shock sparked in his dark eyes.

How odd. She’d never received that reaction from anyone before, but then, she so rarely needed to introduce herself to anyone, here on the Small Isles.

But before she could wonder further, he grinned, and the sight fairly took her breath away.

“The pleasure is all mine, Freyja MacDonald.”

She was quite certain his response wasn’t altogether decent, and had he been anyone else, she would’ve had a sharp word or two for him. But somehow, coming from Alasdair, she found his remark enchanting.

It was a novel experience. And she had to admit, ’twas most intoxicating.

“Do ye need me to bring anything?” Miles cast his gaze between Ban and the puppies in Alasdair’s arms. “A maid to assist?”

“I’m at Lady Freyja’s disposal,” Alasdair said, which caused warmth to bloom deep inside, although God alone knew why his honeyed words should affect her so. It was plain he was merely flirting, and just as obvious he was well practiced in the art.

But even that probability didn’t cast a damper on her mood.

“I need some waterbags filled with warm water,” she said to Miles. “We can’t move Ban into the hall yet, and I don’t want her pups getting chilled from drafts in here.”

“I’ll see to it,” he promised before leaving the stables, and she returned her attention to Ban. Thankfully, the dog delivered her next pup without any problems, and Freyja gave a relieved sigh as Ban finally understood what she needed to do for her newborn.

“Let’s hope the rest of her pups come out as easily,” she remarked, as she cut up another strip of her blanket in readiness for when Miles returned with the waterbags. She shuffled around on her knees to check on the two pups Alasdair still held. “Are ye all right there?”

“Aye. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine here.”

That he was. Hastily, she averted her eyes before he realized she was all but drooling at the sight of him cuddling two wee animals. And since Ban was no longer in imminent danger, her curiosity got the better of her. “So, what are ye doing, visiting Ranulph MacDonald?”

“Sending regards from the Earl of Argyll.”

“The earl?” She couldn’t help the scoffing note in her voice, and Alasdair gave her a questioning look, as though he wasn’t used to anyone referring to Archibald Campbell with disdain.

Too bad. She was a MacDonald to her core, and proud of it.

And MacDonalds didn’t worship the ground the Earl of Argyll walked upon. “Why?”

“Why?” he repeated as though he wasn’t certain he understood her question. “Because there’s a blood connection between him and Ranulph MacDonald’s late wife. At least, that’s my understanding.”

“Oh.” Of course. She’d never met her paternal grandmother, and while she knew, of course, she had been a Campbell, it wasn’t something she generally thought about.

“Aye, that’s right. But are ye aware my grandmother died twenty-five years ago?

I don’t know why the earl should think to send his regards after all this time. ”

“I’m merely the messenger, Lady Freyja.”

She shook her head and returned his smile. “I’m not accusing ye of anything, Alasdair Campbell. I have a habit of thinking out loud. Don’t take it to heart.”

“I wasn’t offended, if that’s what ye think.”

“Good. There’s nothing worse than a man who finds offence in every wee remark that goes against his leanings.”

He laughed. “My leanings? What are ye saying? I’m flummoxed by yer thought processes.”

“Ye wouldn’t be the first, and that’s the sorry truth.”

“I see nothing wrong in a woman speaking her mind.”

“Is that a fact?” She raised her eyebrows. “Then ye’re a very unusual man, Alasdair.”

“’Tis better than keeping secrets and lies for fear of causing offense.”

“Ye don’t have to persuade me of such things. I’d far rather face an unfortunate truth than be victim of a pretty lie.”

For a moment, a shadow darkened his expression, but it vanished in an instant, and she gave herself an inner shake. What was she thinking? It seemed meeting Alasdair had utterly addled her good sense.

“Then for the sake of not hiding anything from ye, I feel ’tis only right to tell ye up front I’m a half-brother to the earl. Is that an unfortunate truth?”

“Ye’re already a Campbell, which is unfortunate enough. I’ll not burden ye with further condemnation for being related to the earl. ’Tis hardly yer fault, is it?”

Before Alasdair could respond, a maid entered the stables with several waterbags. She took them from her, carefully placing them on the ground next to Ban, and wrapped strips of her ruined blanket around them. The maid left, and she glanced at Alasdair.

Good Lord, she needed to take those puppies from him.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a broad-shouldered warrior—and a Campbell at that—could look so irresistible while holding a pair of newborn pups so tenderly.

The juxtaposition should have been jarring.

Yet it felt strangely right, and once again she couldn’t help smiling at him.

’Twas a relief Roisin wasn’t here to see how foolishly she was reacting to Alasdair’s easy charm. Her sister would never have let her live it down.

She wasn’t certain she’d ever live it down herself.