My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader screen TXT) 📕

Her obvious reluctance to greet him wouldhave been amusing if it hadn’t torn at Jace’s heart so. Why was sheavoiding him? What was she afraid of?

As she was virtually dragged down the hall,Mikah hid behind her companion watching Jace with eyes so wide thatshe might have seen a ghost. Not the warm love Jace had come toknow. Not the tenderness. But wariness and uncertainty.

And recognition.

There was no doubt that she knew who hewas.

She stayed behind the man as they approacheddown the hall, and Jace shifted his gaze to her companion. Stoppinga few feet in front of him, the man held his silence for a longwhile before he spoke. He pulled a hand from his pocket and stuckit out at Jace. “Kris Waters.”

“Jason MacAuliffe.” They shook hands,weighing their grip.

“Mikes said you were a marquis.”

“An earl,” Jace reluctantly admitted, castinga glance to where Mikah still hid behind Waters when she bit back adespairing squeak.

“Nice,” Kris said ambiguously, withdrawinghis hand, and Jace turned next to Mikah, but she just pivotedaround Waters’s back. She pulled a key from her pocket and openedthe door without a word to either of them. Mikah disappearedinside, leaving them standing in the hall.

“This is beyond fascinating.”

Jace and Waters both turned to the neighbor,taking in her wide-eyed stare. “So glad you approve, Marci,” Waterssaid good-naturedly and turned back to Mikah’s door.

At least the door was ajar, Jace thought. Shemight could have locked them both out. Waters seemed to think thesame thing, given the grin he flashed as he pushed the door openand waved Jace inside. Jace entered but waited at the door asWaters turned on the lights. The loft space was very open but emptyof the woman he sought. The kitchen, dining area, and living roomall were within easy sight from the door. There were only threeother doors. One next to him that Jace presumed was a closet,another open with a bathroom beyond. And one tightly closed at thefar end of the room.

The avenue of Mikah’s escape. “Shouldn’t you…?” he nodded toward the door.

“She’ll be fine,” Waters shrugged. “Just giveher a minute. I think you scared the shit out of her back there …just like you did in Scotland.”

It was a hint, a blatant invitation for Jaceto say something. There were many things he wanted to say, but Jacehad no idea what this man, his rival, was thinking. He had towonder at his welcome. Was this Kris Waters so sure of Mikah’saffections that he didn’t fear losing her?

Even if the other man did not, Jace did. Hehad thought to stay away to allow Mikah her happiness, but therehad also been a part of him that feared Mikah would not choose aman from what had been little more than a fantastic delusion over aman with whom she already had a relationship.

“How did you hurt your leg?”

Jace threw him a curious glance.“Afghanistan.”

“Recently?”

“Aye.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Jace let his eyeswander around the flat, trying to place his Hero in it. The placewas modern and sparse but earthy. Most of the décor had elements ofnature; dark, rough woods, finishes of worn metals, and all thefurnishings had long, low silhouettes. It was simple and clean.There was Hero in that, at least.

By a large bank of windows stood a Christmastree, which was sadly decorated.

Following his eyes, Kris told him as he tookoff his coat and hung it on a stand near the door, “Mikes wasn’teven going to put one up. I practically had to force her. Take offyour coat and have a seat if you like. Would you like somewine?”

“Thank you,” Jace said as he shed his outercoat and after a moment’s hesitation, propped his cane against thewall. Wincing at the pain but determined not to show weakness, Jacemoved farther into the loft. Hero was evident in the art piecesthat dominated the few wall spaces available. But no landscapeshere. The pieces were abstract but whimsical. One or two weredecidedly dark in nature. Jace turned around the room, taking itall in.

Despite all the furnishings, the room feltodd to Jace. It reeked of neglect, perhaps.

Or loneliness.

As sad as it was, the latter brought him atiny ray of hope.

A hope that wouldn’t hold if Mikah chose notto make an appearance.

The silence grew heavy and Jace feltcompelled to make some conversation. “Your neighbor—Marci?—said shedidn’t think you’d be back until much later. I had forgotten it isNew Year’s Eve and was about to leave.”

“Mikah didn’t want to stay at the party. Iknew that before we even left, but thought it was worth a shot.”The words were informative, but they also left Jace wondering.Combined with what the neighbor had said and that sorry littletree, a picture was being painted of an unhappy life that was atodds with what little information Smith had provided of a happycouple.

“Sit if you like.”

“I’ll stand.”

Waters spoke again from the kitchen area ashe poured two glasses of wine and recorked the bottle. “You don’tseem surprised to find me here.”

“Nor did you seem surprised to see me. Mikahdid however,” Jace returned quietly as Waters handed him a glass ofwine. If he expected a response to that, he was to be disappointed.Before the silence became uncomfortable, he added, “But, you arecorrect, Smith told me about you.”

“Yeah? What did he say?” Waters asked,raising his own glass to his lips.

“He said that you were Mikah Bauer’s youngman.”

That young man choked on his wine and set theglass down with a laugh, catching a drop of wine from his chin withthe back of his hand. “Is that what he said?”

“Aye,” Jace said seriously as the man’s eyesdanced. “Are ye?”

“Kris.” The men turned to see Mikah at thebedroom door. She kept her eyes on Kris, refusing to look at Jaceeven while his eyes devoured her. He hadn’t seen Hero so closely inthe flesh in more than 150 years. She had shed her hat and coat,her blond hair creating a wavy halo as it hung loose about hershoulders. Jace could see every curve of the slim body he knew sowell pressing against the clingy black dress she wore. She lookedthe same as he remembered, yet different, though