Forced to the Altar

“And you won’t enter my tower room,” she said.

“Of course not.”

“Of course not,” she repeated sweetly, her eyes sparkling, as if she were reading his mind, knowing he was more than a little attracted to her. “Good to know. But what about the other tower room? What’s the big secret there?”

“Elspeth prefers it be locked.”

“Elspeth?”

“The ghost. Mr. Moody told you about her, didn’t he?” He watched her eyes open wide. “Obviously not.”

“You have a ghost? Seriously?”

“For more than a century, apparently. Angus McMahon’s daughter, who died at thirteen.”

“From what?”

“Murder most likely, for her to still be unsettled after all this time.” He could tell that Julianne was trying hard not to believe him.

“You…see her?” she asked.

“We hear her.”

She looked toward the ceiling, then she smiled, tentatively. “You’re kidding.”

“You’ll see.”

Mrs. Moody returned, took away their empty plates and left apple pie á la mode and coffee—which meant he and Julianne had more time to fill.

“It’s you I’ve seen walking on the bluff at night, right?” she asked when the coffee was served and Mrs. Moody left. “With two dogs?”

“Yes.” He knew she’d been watching, had sensed it even when her window was dark.

“What breed are they?”

“Bullmastiff.”

“Are they guard dogs? They’re very friendly with you and playful with each other.”

“True to the breed, they’re fearless and confident, yet also docile. Good companions and protectors.”

“And you’re very, very good at not answering questions.” She raised her coffee cup to him.

“If I’d wanted a lap dog I would’ve chosen a toy poodle.”

She laughed. The sound filled the room with such…joy. There hadn’t been much of that in this place. Elation. Relief. Desolation and grief, too. Plenty of that. But not the joyful noise of much laughter. The sound rooted him in his chair.

“Can’t say I can picture you with a poodle in your lap,” she said, still grinning. “Maybe I could join you in your walk one night? I’d love to see the island in the dark, and to meet your dogs.”

“Of course.”

“Tonight?”

“If you wish.”

Her lips curved upward. “I wish.”

For a few seconds, humor fled her eyes, replaced by…he wasn’t sure what. Something different, anyway. Hot. Startling. He drew a long, slow breath as they focused on each other. She started to reach a hand toward him, then didn’t, looking flustered as she pulled back, the mood cooling.

He was glad the crisis had passed. She would tell Jamey not to find her another position elsewhere, Zach could fulfill his promise, and all would be right in the world again. “After dinner you can check your e-mail while I make a couple of calls, then we’ll go for a walk.”

“Thank you.”

Ahh, much better, indeed. She was the naive and sweet young woman that Jamey had labeled her.

She would be easy to manage, after all.

Three

“It’s a mild night,” Zach commented as they left the castle. “Warm. Considering it’s almost December,” he added.

Julianne was disappointed at the lack of wind. Because of it Zach wore a light jacket, not the romantic-looking long coat she’d seen him in for the past few nights. He’d made an imposing figure in stark silhouette. His hair, just slightly darker than hers, and long enough to brush his shoulders, had been tossed around by the wind.

She realized she’d created an image of him in her head since she’d arrived, an image that was not entirely accurate. He was guarded, cool and private, but he was young, broodingly handsome—his hair waving softly now—and well-spoken. His hermit life hadn’t limited his life skills or conversational abilities.

He fascinated her.

And he was also intrigued by her, she thought. She’d never felt so thoroughly examined, yet with few blatant looks—just the time she’d turned around and caught him eyeing her rear. Whatever he did for a living must include studying people surreptitiously. Had he noticed her attraction to him? It had caught her by surprise, the pull she’d felt, the need to touch him.

Why? Because he was different? Challenging? Commanding? She’d found it arousing arguing with him, keeping up with him.

She’d been attracted to other men, but not like this. Not this sudden, overwhelming pull. And even though he’d made peace with her so that she would stay on, she recognized that Zach represented danger in a way her family’s business never had.

Growing up as she had, she was accustomed to men not talking about their work, but it was also something she didn’t want to live with again. Too many secrets led to lies, which ultimately led to hurt.

He could easily ruin her plans, turn her life upside down, take something from her she’d never given to anyone else. And for what? A moment of pleasure? She couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not when she stood at freedom’s gate at long last. But she hadn’t been in this position before, of wanting something, someone, she shouldn’t want.

“You’re very quiet,” he said as they hiked a trail that he must have known by rote, because she saw no path of any kind. They emerged from the trees onto the cleared land up high.

“It’s beautiful,” she replied, hoping he bought that, although there was enough truth in her words that he should believe her. “And…majestic. I feel like I shouldn’t talk.”

“Wait till we’re at the top.”

The sound of muted thunder reached her, getting louder and closer. She drew a quick breath, tucked her arms close and looked around, seeking the source.

“It’s the dogs,” Zach said softly. He put a hand on her back then whistled, two short, ear-piercing sounds.

Even as his touch soothed, she jumped.