Page 5 of Highland Warrior

She appeared to gain some control as she rubbed her eyes for a moment and took heavy breaths.

“Somebody has played a very good trick on me.” Natalie stood and walked around, her tight little body totally nude as she peeked behind the fur covering at the window, into the wardrobe, and under the bed.

Having not found what she was looking for, she stood in front of Ian, her hands on her hips. “Come on now, who hired you? Who set me up? Was it Carrie?” Her index finger came up to tap her chin.

All Ian could do was stare, open-mouthed, his gaze raking over her luscious curves. He’d never seen a woman as well-formed as Natalie. She wasn’t tall, about the same height as most women in the clan, but her body…was she a warrior? A horsewoman? She’d never had a child, that was obvious. Her muscles were lithe and taut yet curved into a womanly figure. Breasts high and firm, yet round and supple, each tipped with a pink pearl. He reached out, caressing the side of one plush breast, before she slapped his hand away.

“Hey, Mr. Love Machine, can you answer my questions? So, was it Carrie? She is forever teasing me about my love of a man in a kilt, and that I never get laid.” She rolled her eyes and then looked around again.

“You really did a great job with the setup here. Or did a set designer decorate the place?”

“My eudail, I know not what ye speak of. Your language is strange to me.”

“You speak Gaelic, too? How sweet of you to call me your darling.”

He lifted a brow. Obviously, she didn’t understand the whole picture here. He’d better explain.

“Natalie, I dinna know Carrie. All I know is, I lay down for bed and ye were there. I am Laird MacDuff, and ye are in my chamber here at MacDuff Keep.”

The lass’s eyes grew wide as she gazed at him, almost like a deer caught in the line of an arrow. Then she shook her head.

“Joke’s up, Ian, I’ve figured it out. Now, where are my clothes?”

Ian spread his hands wide. “Ye were naked when I first laid eyes on ye.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Whatever. I had fun, but I’m done now.”

Before he could catch her, she walked out of the chamber, slamming the door behind her, naked as the day she was born.

4

Natalie stormed down the hall, peeking into each and every door. Where did this set end? Every detail was precisely as she’d studied—the rough-hewn beams, the scent of smoke and peat, the laughter of men unaccustomed to stillness. Yet standing here, she realized the past wasn’t an exhibit or a story. It was alive, wild, and staring back at her.

She was going to kill Carrie when she got her hands on her.

Yeah, it had been the best sex she’d ever had, and the man himself was utterly devastating. Her body tingled just thinking about him.

But what? So her friend had decided to give her a little gift—well, maybe not so little. A satisfied grin filled her face. Her wildest fantasy had been to be claimed by a Highland warrior. She should be thanking her best friend. In fact, she really should give her an award for a job well done.

How in the world had Carrie pulled this off?

Natalie found the stairs and hadn’t a care in the world for her naked form as she descended the circular stone steps. Loud noises rose from below. Ah, she’d found the end of the set.

So they had put on a show for her, and an amazing one at that. Well, she’d give them a little show, too. Laughing aloud at the boldness flowing through her, Natalie stepped off the last step when an arm grasped hers.

“Nay, lass. Dinna go in there. The great hall is full of my men.” The expression on Ian’s face was serious.

Natalie faltered a little in her steps.

“Ian, the joke is up. You don’t have to keep playing along.” Why did her voice sound like she wasn’t so sure?

“Natalie, it’s no joke. Look.”

Ian wrapped a plaid tartan he’d carried down the stairs around her body. The rough wool was authentic, from what she’d studied. The colors were those of the MacDuff Clan. The green and red plaid caught the light, vibrant against the gray stone. Was it possible for Carrie to have known all these details? She could have taken one of Natalie’s articles on Highlanders. But somehow Natalie was starting to have significant doubts.

Ian steered her around the corner and let her peek into the great hall.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her heartbeat quickened. Warriors clad in tartans and leather boots ate and drank with gusto. Some had already passed out, and lay face-first in their trenchers. Others were sprawled on the floor, passed out and some had curled up with another warm body amongst the rushes. The room spun, and Natalie’s feet didn’t feel strong enough to hold her.