Page 3 of Sadie’s Highlander (Highland Protector #1)

CHAPTER 2

A lec shrugged on the crisp white shirt and struggled to button it as he slowly walked out of a closet big enough to house a small clan. Things were certainly different here in the twenty-first century. Fifteen years they’d been here. Even after all of Dwyn’s fostering and teaching about the strange modern-day contrivances, Alec still was not so sure of the whys and ways of this time. He’d never understand this strange era until they laid him in the grave and the goddesses explained it when he got to the other side. Some things were better—but there were a great many things that had suffered with the progress of the centuries. At least so far as he was concerned.

He yanked at the shirt, scowling down at the last of the accursed slippery buttons that were entirely too small for his fingers. He could easily throw a knife at fifty paces and part a gnat’s wings but could barely fasten these worrisome buttons.

“Has Davie settled them in the room yet?” he asked.

“Aye.” Dwyn MacKay, legal counsel and goddess-assigned advisor to the sacred MacDara clan—and to all the faithful descendants of the ancient druid clans covertly residing in the twenty-first century—perched on the leather-cushioned bench facing a wall filled with monitors showing various locations throughout the park. He nodded at Alec’s chest. “I told Mistress Lydia to stop buying those shirts with the tiny pearl buttons, but she refuses. Says the shirt makes the man and by golly ye’ll be wearing them ’til ye settle down and give yer mother a house full of grandchildren.”

With a defeated shake of his head, Dwyn turned and stared at the largest of the six screens centered in the wall of video surveillance, pointed a small remote at the monitors, and clicked until the view of the meeting room appeared. “It appears to me that yer mother and Mistress Lydia have been talking entirely too much to one another and yer arse is doomed.” Dwyn leaned closer to the screens, squinting as he studied the monitor. “What has that thin one there done to herself? She looks . . . unnatural. Reminds me of a banshee I once came across in Ireland.”

“Who’s to say?” Alec tucked his shirt into his jeans, sat on the bench beside Dwyn, and yanked on his boots. “Ye ken her type as well as I. She’s as fickle as the wind. I felt it in my bones as soon as I set eyes on her.” He leaned forward, hands on both knees, nodding at Delia’s pinch-faced image. “’Tis why I feel this is wrong and we waste our time. I dinna trust her or her company. And yer own research found they dinna always keep to their word. Ye discovered the law nipping at their heels how many times?” Alec kept his gaze trained on the center screen focused on the two women. ’Twas a damn shame they were having to deal with one such as Delia Williams to meet the writer of those emails. A damn shame indeed.

Dwyn rose from the bench and slowly approached the wall of monitors. Spindly arms folded across his thin frame, his bushy red brows arched to where his hairline would’ve been if he’d had any hair other than the wild, reddish-blond tuft at the top of his head, slicked back as though he were some exotic bird flattening his crest. “Forget what I found. What did the Heartstone tell ye about this venture?”

The man would bring that up. Alec ignored the question, just as Dwyn had refused to acknowledge his. “Look at the vile woman. Look how she treats her sister, no less.” Again, Alec shook his head at the monitor, his blood heating even more as it appeared that Delia was once again berating Sadie.

He could tell by Sadie’s carefully held mask of calm that Delia’s rant was directed at her. Sadie might appear as though her sister’s words caused her no troubles, but even in the camera, he could see the pain in the kind lass’s eyes. “I fail to see how one sister can be so brimming with warmth and kindness while the other is as spiteful as a demon. They canna possibly share the same blood.”

“What did the Heartstone tell ye?” Dwyn repeated the question with a look Alec knew all too well. The stubborn demigod was as relentless as the sea when he set his mind to something.

“I didna ask the Heartstone about the production company.”

“Ye said ye consulted the stone regarding this particular undertaking.”

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 nervous and 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. And yet 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 yanked open 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. Yer assistant could 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.”

Before Alec could respond, the main double doors at the other end of the room opened, and in walked Alec’s brothers and father, led by Dwyn MacKay.

“Now, now . . . none of that. We’ve yet to discuss the details in question. Have a seat, Ms. Williams,” Dwyn said as the unsmiling group of men quietly filed in behind the table and took their seats. “Allow me to introduce ye to the board of directors of Highland Life and Legends.”

“Allow me,” Alec said, slowly rising from his seat. Ignoring Delia completely, he spoke to Sadie as though she were the only one in the room—and as far as he was concerned, she was.

A knowing smile settled across Dwyn’s face. He nodded for Alec to continue as he took his post beside an enormous whiteboard that had appeared in the center of the back wall at the touch of a hidden button.

Motioning to his left, Alec respectfully nodded to each of his family members as he made the introductions. “My brothers: Grant, Ramsay, and Ross.”

Each of the brothers acknowledged the women with a single slow nod.

Alec slightly bowed toward his father sitting at the far end of the table. The older man, his wild, unkempt hair white as lamb’s wool and his worn denim shirt sporting almost as many threadbare spots as his tattered overalls, seemed oblivious to the goings-on in the room and was totally absorbed in what looked like an oblong shard of softly glowing quartz cradled between his arthritic hands. “And this is Emrys Danann MacDara. My father.”

At the sound of his full name, Emrys peered up from the crystal, studied Sadie for a few moments, then looked at Alec. Without smiling, he jerked his chin downward in a single sharp nod. “She will do. The other must not be trusted under any circumstances.”

Delia immediately reacted with what sounded like a cross between a growl and a stifled scream. “As I said before, I did not come here to be insulted.”

She launched back up from her seat so quickly that the damaged heel on her shoe finally snapped. Stumbling to one side, she grabbed hold of the chair to keep from falling all the way to the floor. “Dammit! Would you people just show me the way out of this dungeon? I’ve had enough historical bullshit for one day. I can find another location for the shoot with no problem.”

Alec studied Sadie a bit closer. From the amusement sparkling in her dark eyes and the subtle color barely kissing her cheeks, the lovely woman was holding her breath to keep from laughing at her sister. He agreed. Sadie’s sister was quite the fool.

“’Tis a pity ye’ve decided as such,” Alec noted, not even bothering to hide his amusement at Delia standing with her broken shoe in one hand and her bare foot lifted as though she were some sort of knob-kneed wading bird. “We had but three terms to add to yer agreement and then yer six weeks of filming was to be approved to commence immediately.”

Emrys chuckled softly to himself, spinning the crystal shard on the table and excitedly drumming his fingertips atop the marble each time the rock stopped turning and pointed directly at Sadie.

Grant stood, shoving his chair back as he held out a hand to Delia. “I’ll be happy to escort ye out if ye feel ye canna stomach any more time with my brother.” He highlighted the invitation with a mischievous wink. “I understand completely, ye ken? He fair gives me a case of the red arse a good deal of the time too.”

Delia rolled her broken shoe in one hand as though fighting against the urge to lob it at the men. Hanging on to the back of the chair, she gimped around to stand behind it. She ignored Grant, focusing her sour-faced glare on Alec. “I’m listening. What terms?”

“Show her the map.” Alec motioned to Dwyn, then faced the huge whiteboard behind them.

Dwyn complied with a click of the small remote he held in his hand. An aerial view of the park, with all details and landmarks, clearly identified, came into view.

One of the better changes of this time, as far as Alec was concerned. Much more accurate than maps drawn upon parchment or etched on hides. Most technologies befuddled him. Things that were supposed to save time, but more oft than not, turned out to be a large pain in the arse.

Alec heartily approved of this advancement though. He walked over to the board, took up the laser pointer from the whiteboard’s tray, and fixed the red dot on a small golden label at the northwesternmost point of the map. “Term number one: Ye will never under any circumstances have yer crews go anywhere near this building. Castle Danu and a perimeter of five miles around it are strictly prohibited. This castle is not to be disturbed and this point is not negotiable. Period.” He turned and glared at Delia. “If I catch any of yer company near that castle or on that land, ye will rue the day ye were born. D’ye ken my meaning?”

Delia white-knuckled the back of the chair, lifted her chin, and squared her shoulders. “And the other terms? I believe you mentioned three?”

Alec shifted his attention to Sadie. Eyes wide and leaning slightly forward in rapt interest, she was studying the map as though it were a cherished work of art. And it was. The historical theme park that so easily protected and hid the Heartstone and the goddesses’ sacred weapons was as precious to him as if it were his child. Sadie felt the park was more than just a business to him. He saw it in her eyes.

Nodding at Sadie, Alec slowly approached the table. “Yer sister, Mistress Sadie Williams, must vouch for Realm Spinners Productions—assure us that yer company will abide by all the terms currently listed in yer contract and by those added here today.” Alec paused and dipped his chin in polite acknowledgment of Sadie’s quick intake of breath. “I trust this woman.” He turned back to Delia. “I’ve already established how I feel about you.”

Delia’s mouth flattened into an angry, overly lipsticked line and the leather back of the chair squeaked in protest as she clenched it even tighter. “My sister will vouch for my company. Won’t you?” She glared down at Sadie, her expression clearly threatening Sadie to say the right thing or else.

Sadie’s sleek dark brows arched a notch higher. She glanced at her sister, then barely nodded at Alec. “Uhm . . . yes. I can try. I . . . uhm . . . will do my best to ensure Delia’s company doesn’t breach the terms of the contract—this time. She and I will go over all the listed requirements with the crew just to be sure everything is clear.” She ended the weak affirmation with a short, strangled cough, as though the words had nearly caught in her throat.

“I’m sure my sister is just nervous,” Delia hurried to explain. “She knows we always abide by our contracts. Now, what’s your third term?”

Alec rounded the table, stood directly beside Sadie, and held out his hand. “Ye will be assigned to me for the extent of the six weeks of filming. Private quarters at MacDara Keep will be provided for yer comfort. Ye will want for nothing.”

Sadie’s eyes flared wide then darkened with leeriness and shock. “Assigned? To you? And what exactly do you mean by private quarters?” Sadie glanced down at Alec’s extended hand, then slowly lifted her gaze to his. Her tempting mouth went slightly ajar. She blinked slowly as though trying to fathom what he had just said. “I need a little more clarification if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, she can be assigned to you.” Delia hobbled around the chair and jutted out her hand to seal the deal. “But I must warn you, she talks incessantly and is usually way more trouble than she’s worth.”

Alec sent up a silent prayer to the goddesses. Give me the strength to keep from backhanding this foul woman. He ignored Delia’s extended hand, focusing solely on Sadie. “Ye will stay in the guest wing at our private keep and report to me daily —first thing each morning—for breakfast, in fact. Ye will spend each day of the six weeks of filming at my side, explaining the process to me and proving that we didna err in granting Realm Spinners Productions access to our beloved park.”

Sadie clenched her fists in her lap, her unblinking gaze still locked on Alec’s extended hand. “I’ll have to think about that option and get back to you on it. I’m not sure that would be in the best interest of . . . the uhm . . . the company.”

Disappointment twitched in the center of his chest, but admiration for Sadie’s leeriness helped temper the dull ache. Good. He would expect nothing less from a woman who properly respected herself.

Delia thumped her broken shoe against the back of Sadie’s chair. “She misspoke. Of course, she’ll do it. Won’t you, Sadie?” Delia tossed down the shoe and yanked on Sadie’s arm as though trying to put her hand in Alec’s grasp.

Sadie yanked free of Delia’s hold and stood, quickly sidling away from the chair. “I did not misspeak.” She fixed Alec with a tense, forced smile that made him want to reach out—touch her gently and tell her that everything would be all right. He’d never meant to frighten her or make her think ill of him. He meant no harm in the request. He just wished to get to know her better. Surely, she knew that.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t commit to all the terms right now. I need time to think about it.” She edged back another step, clutching her tablet to her chest. “I’ll have to get back to you. In a day or two. I promise.”

She had to accept. It would not be good if she chose to pass and returned to California. He did his best not to think about that. Surely, she would decide to stay and spend the next six weeks with him. He needed her to choose him and didn’t particularly like the realization that he’d be sorely disappointed —more disappointed than he’d been in a very long time—if she firmly declined.

“I understand how ye might need a day or so to review the new terms.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Sadie. “I give ye my word—ye willna regret choosing to spend yer days with me.”