Page 2 of Sadie’s Highlander (Highland Protector #1)

CHAPTER 1

North Carolina

Twenty-first Century

F orget the roller coaster. Where could she get a ticket to ride him? Sadie Williams peered over the tops of her sunglasses, inching them lower to get an unobstructed view of the man currently flexing his assets. Merciful heavens, what an import he was. She’d bet her favorite ink pen he was one of Scotland’s finest.

The tempting Scot stood in the center of the outdoor practice ring, glowering at the small group of nervous young men fidgeting in front of him. His tanned, muscular physique of totally lickable perfection rippled and pulsed as he swung a monstrous sword in a wide, graceful arc. He wore his dark hair slicked back in a severe man bun, perfectly accentuating his stern, chiseled face.

This man was better than any photoshopped action hero Sadie had seen in a while. His modified kilt, a tighter, sexier version, more like a gladiator’s short toga, only added fuel to his already blazing-hot persona. The teasing bit of tartan hung low about his hips, its cropped length barely brushing the thickest part of his solidly corded thighs. With every fluid, predatory move he made, Sadie wished for a strong breeze to improve the already impeccable view.

“You’re telling me that’s Alec MacDara? Mr. I can’t be bothered with a meeting ?”

Her sister Delia’s hissed whisper, shrill and dripping with disbelief, interrupted Sadie’s delightful reverie. Thumbing her sunglasses back up in place, Sadie barely nodded. Delia’s tone triggered a one-sided grin. Yes, sister dearest, that was the man himself. But Sadie kept that comment to herself.

She hugged her electronic tablet closer and turned her attention back to the dirt arena where Mr. Alec MacDara, CEO and part owner of Highland Life and Legends, was currently sizing up his most recent batch of applicants. Delia needed to be quiet. She was ruining the view.

When they had arrived at the park for their hard-won appointment, a historically accurate kilted park employee had led them to this private training area. He’d explained that this was where mock battle interviewees hoped their sword handling would impress Mr. MacDara enough to score them a job.

Not only renowned for its remarkable authenticity, Highland Life and Legends was also known as one of the best employers in the region. The successful Scottish historical theme park encompassed what seemed like an endless expanse of acreage along the Cape Fear River of North Carolina. The sprawling park and its owners ruled supreme in this part of the country.

The nearby town of Brady, North Carolina, would have disappeared off the map years ago if not for the MacDara clan’s imaginative creation. The theme park, based on Highland myths, beliefs, and everyday life in centuries past, had been a lifeline for the past fifteen years to the small burg nestled in the rich countryside surrounding the river. Everyone wanted to be a part of Highland Life and Legends.

Alec MacDara strode up and down in front of the line of young men, pausing now and then to squeeze a shoulder or lift one of their arms as though judging livestock at the county fair. He finally selected the smallest of the group, handed him a sword that was nearly twice the young man’s size, and pointed to the center of the ring. “You. Go. Let’s have a look at ye then.”

The scrawny, nervous boy who would blow away if a strong wind hit him stumbled to the designated spot, visibly struggling to drag the sword along beside him. He let out a wheezing grunt, his face turning a reddish purple as he strained to lift the blade into the air. The sword wobbled and swayed for a tense moment then dove downward, the tip plunging deep into the dirt.

The rest of the anxious applicants waiting for their turn tittered with relieved snickering. The beanpole of a boy shot them all a resentful glare, set his jaw, then staggered backwards, using his entire body to heave the massive blade back up into the air and swoop it from side to side.

Easily avoiding the swinging blade, Alec angled his way around to the boy’s side, clapped a hand on the lad’s bony shoulder, and pried the sword out of his shaking, white-knuckled fists. “The sword is not the weapon for ye, but yer mother tells me ye’ve a fine way with the horses. Is that true?”

“I guess so.” The still red-faced lad deflated with a disgusted huff, staring down at the ground as though his entire world had just collapsed. “I just wanted to be one of the fighters—you know—for the girls?” He wheezed out another despondent sigh and kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt.

“Many a fair lass waits in line to ride the fine MacDara horses we have stabled here.” Alec gripped the boy’s shoulder and gave him a congenial shake. “I’m thinking they’d be most impressed by a man able to control such mighty beasts and take them for rides through our fine countryside.”

The boy’s face visibly brightened. Renewed hope straightened his back as he stood a bit taller. “Really?”

“Aye.” Alec nodded and steered him toward a gated path on the other side of the ring. “Off wi’ ye now to the stables. Old Tom’s expecting ye. He’ll explain yer duties.”

“Thanks, Mr. MacDara!” The boy bobbed his head, his lopsided grin stretching from ear to ear as he stumbled backward toward the gate. “Thanks a lot!”

An uber-alpha Highlander with a heart of pure gold. Sadie cocked the bill of her ball cap a tad lower. Alec MacDara’s kindness triggered a warm, glowing sense of happy straight to her core. She could so get into researching this guy for a hot Highland screenplay.

A sharp jab in the ribs rudely interrupted the promising dialogue already flowing through her mind. “What?” She jerked around and fully focused on her sister, immediately regretting the sharp tone of her what in light of Delia’s snarling reaction. Great. A heavy sigh escaped Sadie. She braced herself for the inevitable ass-chewing.

“I asked you a question, and your head rattling when you nod doesn’t tell me a damn thing. Watch that tone or you can kiss this job goodbye.” Delia’s face—immaculately chiseled by LA’s best plastic surgeons—tightened into a deeper scowl that would challenge the best Botox. She smoothed her miniskirt with an irritated yank, then hooked a finger in her plunging neckline and resettled her newly purchased cleavage to a more revealing angle. “If that’s Alec MacDara, I know exactly how to handle this meeting.” She flexed her toned and professionally sculpted body like a peacock preening for a mate.

“Yes. That is Alec MacDara, CEO of Highland Life and Legends,” Sadie replied in the most placating tone she could manage without gagging. She felt sure the man would be panting at her sister’s feet in no time. His type usually couldn’t resist Delia—until they discovered how self-centered and cruel her sister really was. Sadie tapped the surface of her tablet. “Look. I showed you this article about him and his family the other day. Remember?”

Delia pushed the tablet away, not even sparing Sadie a sideways glance. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am extremely busy. You can’t expect me to hear every inconsequential word that falls from your lips.” She turned and fixed Sadie with the only look she’d ever had that remotely resembled a smile. As far back as Sadie could remember, Delia had never managed a real smile or looked remotely happy. Her strained smirk always came off as looking as though she smelled a stink.

Delia’s simpering pout twisted up at the corners into an even more malicious curl. “You might be my sister, but I hired you to handle things. Be my assistant. For your sake, I ignore your prattle—much like tuning out background noise. Now shut it while I observe this fine male specimen and plan my next move to close this deal.”

Sadie locked her jaws and tightened her grip on the tablet. One of these days she would tell Delia to shove this job sideways. Unfortunately, today was not that day.

With a deep breath, Sadie calmed herself. She needed this job. It was the surest bet she had at getting into the world of screenwriting. She had to take it until she made it. Her sister Delia had founded Realm Spinners Productions with the vast inheritance left to her when their parents had died in the crash of their private jet. Big sister had all the connections Sadie needed, but those connections were a double-edged sword. Delia could blackball Sadie’s screenplays forever with just a few phone calls.

And to add insult to injury, Delia also controlled Sadie’s meager share of what really couldn’t be termed as an inheritance. The paltry amount had been more like a slap in the face. But still, Delia had been named guard dog to all assets left in the Williamses’ vast estate. Sadie figured it was a last-ditch effort by their mogul parents to convince the world that Delia wasn’t as heartless and self-centered as everyone thought.

Sadie was positive they were also attempting to punish her for being—how had they always put it?—so damned embarrassingly unconventional. Sadie had never fit into her parents’ mold.

And she really didn’t hate them for their last act of aristocratic bullying. After all, they’d always treated her that way—and besides, she was the adopted one. The odd one. The fat little Mediterranean girl they’d taken in to show the world how charitable they could be.

A bitter laugh huffed from her before she could stop it. She’d show them. Succeeding and becoming a renowned screenwriter would be her sweet revenge. She shook off Delia’s bitchiness and hurried to jot a few memory joggers into her tablet. Alpha Highlander. Soft-hearted. Loner. Wounded hero type. She would plot this one out tonight.

“I’m a busy man. If ye wish to speak with me, ye’d best be about it, aye?”

The suddenly much closer proximity of that deep, rich voice with the come-hither brogue triggered a sharp inhale that effectively lodged Sadie’s gum into the middle of her windpipe. Fisting one hand over her mouth, she turned away, coughing and wheezing for air. Dammit. She was going to die right in front of Mr. MacSexy.

Strong hands gripped her upper arms, then a sharp rap between her shoulder blades effectively shot the offensive wad of chewing gum out of her mouth. Sadie closed her now extremely watery eyes, squeezing hard to reabsorb the choke-induced tears. Wasn’t this lovely? Her sister would have a hissy fit and this guy would think she was an idiot.

Turning her about, the strong hands held her arms with a gentler grip, steadying her on her feet. “Are ye all right then?” Concern filled the clearest blue eyes Sadie had ever seen. The Caribbean Sea lapping upon a white Jamaican beach couldn’t hold a candle to that shade of blue. She could drown in those eyes.

“Uhm . . . I’m fine.” Sadie bobbed her head and backed up a step with a nervous fluttering of her hand, coughed again, and struggled to delicately wheeze in another deep breath without seeming starved for oxygen. “Just got choked on my gum. Thanks for knocking it free.” She fished a crumpled tissue out of the pocket of her jeans and scooped the sticky ball of embarrassment up from the ground. After wrapping it tightly in the tissue, she shoved it back into her pocket. “Don’t want anyone to step in that. Isn’t it irritating when you get gum stuck on your shoe and then stick to the ground with every other step?” She really needed to shut up. She was babbling like a fool.

A hint of a grin played across the man’s full lips, perfectly highlighting the slightly off-centered cleft in his chin. “Aye. ’Tis rudeness itself when folk show such disregard for the land and those who walk upon it.”

Delia shoved her way between them, extending her perfectly manicured hand and amping up her I smell a stink smile to its highest possible wattage. “Mr. MacDara, I’m Delia Williams, and I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate your meeting with us today.”

A look of irritated boredom immediately settled over the man’s face like clouds blotting out the sun. His gaze briefly dipped to Delia’s extended hand, then slowly returned to her fake smile. He took a step back and methodically folded his muscular arms across his endless expanse of chest that had taken on the most delicious gleam in the heat of the afternoon sun.

Sadie caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, doing her best to control the urge to lick her lips. The man looked like a well-oiled piece of sensual machinery ready to be fired up. He also looked rather annoyed.

“As I said, I am a busy man.” Alec frowned down at Delia’s still extended hand. “There are two reasons why ye are here today. My legal counsel advised it would be wise to hear ye out.” He paused long enough to flex and resettle his muscular arms across his chest. Both his tone and scowl softened as his attention shifted back to Sadie. “And then there is the matter of the daily emails.” He gifted Sadie with the return of the lopsided smile that somehow promised there was a great deal more that he wasn’t saying—yet.

“Daily emails?” Delia darted a narrow-eyed look at Sadie, then awkwardly withdrew her hand and totally failed at saving her dignity by propping her fingers on one hip and striking her trademark kneel-before-my-beauty pose.

Alec fully faced Sadie, his faint look of amusement morphing into a warm we’re about to share a delicious secret smile. His eyes seemed darker now, like the deeper part of the ocean—and they sparkled with . . . something. No. It wasn’t exactly a sparkle. Alec looked almost smug, as though he’d finally found something worthy of his time.

What a look. Was it a flicker of interest? No way. It couldn’t be. She had to be reading him wrong. Her senses were probably off due to jet lag and the time zone change. Guys like him went for thin, leggy blond Delias, not curvacious chunks of fun Sadies.

“I assume ye’re the writer of the emails?” Alec asked, his deep brogue melting into what could only be described as a wonderfully audible caress.

“Uhm . . . yes, I am.” Sadie ignored Delia’s irritated huff and extended her own hand. “I’m Sadie Williams. Delia’s assistant . . . and her sister. But how did you know the emails were from me, Mr. MacDara?”

“Ye may call me Alec—and the emails had a certain tone . . .” Alec paused and cast a dismissive glance at Delia, then shouldered away from her as though shrugging off a pest. “Yer messages had a way about them that fits ye. I doubt that one over there could ever write them.”

He scooped up Sadie’s extended hand, gallantly brought it to his mouth for a polite kiss, then gifted her with a genuine smile she would remember in her dreams. “’Tis my utmost pleasure to finally meet ye, Mistress Sadie Williams.”

“Just Sadie is fine,” she whispered, then pressed her lips tightly together and held her breath. She was torn between melting into a purring puddle of sheer bliss and laughing out loud at the low, strangled growling sound of Delia shifting into super-bitch hyperdrive. She knew for certain she couldn’t laugh. If she did, Delia would surely fire her on the spot.

Clearing her throat, Sadie lightly squeezed Alec’s warm, callused hand. “The pleasure is mine. And thank you for meeting with us. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

“Aye,” Alec said. “’Tis my hope I’ll not be disappointed either.” The way he held her hand a bit longer before reluctantly letting go made Sadie wonder if Alec was talking about something other than the business meeting.

“Mr. MacDara . . . uhm . . . Alec.” Delia sidled closer, visibly struggling to keep her stiletto heels from getting stuck between the boards of the wood flooring of the observation landing. “You said your legal counsel found the terms of our filming contract suitable and recommended you speak with us. What do I need to do to convince you that Realm Spinners Productions should be allowed to use your lovely theme park as a filming location for our Scottish historical romance?” She leaned forward, arching her back and flaunting her cleavage so Alec would have no doubt that anything he might want was his for the taking.

“ You may call me Mr. MacDara.” Alec turned away, picked up his sword, and shoved it into the sheath belted to his side. “And I didna say the contract was found suitable. I said counsel recommended that I speak with ye.”

Without a look back, he headed across the practice arena with long, powerful strides. “Follow me. The board and I have our own terms and questions—as does my lawyer.”

Sadie started to follow, then looked back at Delia. Her red-faced sister was currently standing with both hands on her hips and staring after Alec as though she couldn’t believe he’d just insulted her and walked away.

Delia stomped her foot. A shrill hiss escaped her pursed lips as one of her heels wedged between the wooden boards. “Is he crazy? I’m not walking through that filth in my Louis Vuittons.”

“Well, you’d better if you want this deal.” Sadie held out a hand to steady her sister. If she let Delia fall, she’d never hear the end of it. “I can’t believe you wore those shoes to a theme park. What were you thinking?”

“Just shut up, Sadie,” Delia barked. She wobbled across the uneven surface of the hard-packed dirt, nearly going down when one gleaming black heel sank into a pronounced dip.

Sadie caught her sister up by the elbows before she hit the ground. Just once, she wished she could let Delia bust her ass. Inwardly, she shook her head. No. She had to take care of Delia. Big sister owned the keys to the screenplay kingdom.

Comfortable shoes trumped high-priced heels any day in Sadie’s book, but Delia had always been a slave to fashion. Sadie tightened her hold on Delia’s arm as her sister stumbled across another rough patch of ground. “You’d better pick up the pace before he gets to the door and we lose him.”

Sadie glanced up just as Alec entered the building. “Too late. If that keep is as authentic on the inside as it is on the outside, it could be like a maze in there. We may be out of luck when it comes to this meeting.”

“If this meeting doesn’t go down, you’re going to be out of a hell of a lot more than just luck.” Delia hobbled faster, tightening her hold until her nails bit into Sadie’s arm.

Sadie flinched and steered Delia toward a smoother patch of ground. They finally reached the apron of concrete surrounding the massive stone archway sheltering the private entrance to the keep.

Delia yanked herself out of Sadie’s hands. “Just let me do the talking. None of your stupid jokes or idiotic attempts at humor. Keep your mouth shut, your back to the wall, and take notes like a good little mute assistant or this meeting will be your last. Understand?”

Thank goodness Alec had already disappeared into the keep and couldn’t have possibly heard Delia’s rant. Anger flashed hot through Sadie. Tightening her arm around her tablet, she sucked in a deep breath between clenched teeth and held it. Steady. Karma would get Delia. She would get what she deserves. Sadie released her breath and forced a smile at the stoic young man waiting for them beside the door. “Could you please point us in the right direction? I’m afraid we didn’t quite keep up with Mr. MacDara.”

The unsmiling youth glared first at Delia, then nodded at Sadie with a more amiable look. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the meeting room. Mr. Alec’s gone to change out of his workout clothes.”

Delia shoved her way in front of Sadie, her scowling backward glance clearly saying you’d better remember your place. She looped an arm through the waiting man’s forearm and snuggled up against him as though he were a long-lost lover. “Thank you so much. By all means, lead the way.”

Sadie pulled in another deep breath, fell in step behind Delia, and instantly felt better. A satisfied smile came to her and she almost snickered out loud. One of Delia’s precious Louis Vuittons had an ever-widening split in the spiked heel and a jagged tear in its costly leather.

Sadie’s stepped lighter until she was almost skipping.