Kilted Lover Read online

  Scott charged the one with the weapon, shoved his arm up, and squeezed. He howled and dropped the pistol. Scott punched him, once in the stomach and once in the face, and sent him sprawling.

  The woman screamed as she scuffled with the tall, skinny man. She dropped her purse and protected her amulet with both hands. The man snatched her purse from the ground and sprinted away.

  “Bastard!”

  She chased him and Scott joined her. The man climbed into a big black SUV and leaned over in the seat. He was probably going for a hidden pistol.

  “Watch out.” Scott grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

  “No! He has my purse!” She jerked free from his grasp.

  Hearing footsteps behind them, Scott glanced back to see the man he’d knocked down rushing toward them, gun in hand.

  “Hell!” Scott picked up the woman, threw her over his shoulder and ran.

  ***

  Leslie screamed. Her head dangled upside down. The kilted man’s hard shoulder had slammed painfully into her stomach, almost knocking the breath from her. What the hell was going on? Did he want her amulet? Was he in league with the other two and only pretending to help her? All three of them had shown up at the same time.

  “Ow! Bastard! Put me down!” Tears burned her eyes. Leslie kicked toward his face and elbowed his back.

  “He’s kidnapping that woman!” a nearby woman yelled. “Call the police!”

  Dear God, what if he was kidnapping her? What if he was a rapist or serial killer? They were known to be charming to lure their victims.

  The maniac slid to a halt in the gravel, wrenched open the driver’s door of an oversized, blue four-by-four pick-up, and pushed her inside. He crawled in after.

  Adrenaline infused her with a burst of strength. She scrambled toward the passenger door and freedom. The power locks popped down.

  “Dammit.” She poked the buttons with her fingers. When the engine roared to life, the window rolled down. She could climb out.

  She’d shoved most of her upper body through the window, when he grasped her skirt and hauled her back in. “Are you crazy? Come back here!”

  She turned to sit upright, then kicked him. “Let me go!”

  Unflinching, he pinned her ankles together with one big hand and steered with the other. Spinning gravel, the truck slid out of the parking area, and then zoomed past a large plantation house and onto the drive that stretched beneath the long avenue of oaks.

  “Let me out of here!” She pounded his mountainous shoulder with her fists.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  She grabbed a handful of his loose hair and yanked.

  When he slammed on the brakes, the momentum propelled her forward. She let go and smacked her hands against the dash, catching herself.

  “Look, Lass—or whatever the hell your name is—can’t you see I’m trying to save your ass? They’ll catch us in no time.”

  “I don’t even know your name. How do I know I can trust you?”

  “I just rescued you from two armed men and you don’t trust me?” He looked incredibly offended at that.

  “Um. I don’t know.” When she scooted backward, he loosened his grip, grabbed the steering wheel and stomped the accelerator. She eyed the door, the power lock in particular. It probably wouldn’t open while they were moving anyway.

  “How do I know you’re not one of them?”

  “If I was, why would I knock the guy down?”

  “Maybe you want my amulet, too. Or maybe you’re a rapist!”

  His glare turned sharp. “No. I’m not!”

  “You hurt my stomach. I’ll probably have a huge bruise across it from your damned hard shoulder.”

  This time his glance was startled and concerned. “I’m sorry. Does it still hurt?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I’ve just never had a man throw me over his shoulder before as if he were a caveman.”

  “I thought cavemen dragged women by the hair.”

  “Ha ha.” Was he really one of the good guys? She didn’t have time to figure it out. “They took my purse. I have to get it back.”

  “They have guns. I thought maybe your life was a bit more valuable than your purse.”

  “Well, yes.” She watched him warily. Oh, God, had she just made a huge mistake? Going off with a muscle-bound stranger was not a wise thing to do. Where were the cops she’d seen earlier in the day directing traffic? Probably gone home.

  She cringed when she realized all the personal information the thieves had now. “Clearly they wanted to steal my purse, not my amulet. It’s worth a lot more. They could max out my credit cards, drain my bank account.” Her stomach ached when she imagined all her savings gone.

  “I heard them talking about your amulet.”

  “You want it, too,” she accused.

  “No, I don’t, dammit! I’m not a thief.”

  “You’re a kidnapper. That’s worse!”

  “I told you—”

  “I know. I know. You’re saving my ass.”

  He sent her a riled but hot glance. His darkening green eyes raised her temperature. His gaze slid down her body, then darted to the road ahead. Whew! That frown he wore gave him a look of fierce intensity, as though he might want to manhandle her again. Awareness tingled through her.

  But she couldn’t let the brute touch her.

  Turning, she stared through the rear window and noticed the black SUV at the other end of a long stretch of drive. “They’re following!”

  “I knew they would.” He barely slowed at the stop sign and turned onto Long Point Road. They sped down the highway while Leslie tried in vain to collect her thoughts. If those two purse-snatchers actually wanted her amulet, why? Could it be more valuable than anyone in her family realized?

  She observed the man beside her, wondering if he was a criminal or a hero. Though she’d seen him in action during the caber toss and the hammer throw, she’d missed his name when they announced the winners because she’d gone to buy a meat bridie. “What’s your name?”

  “Scott,” he said. “Scott MacPherson.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He quirked a brow. “You find that hard to believe, too?”

  “No.” Only that she’d been thinking of him as a Scot the entire time. “You were aptly named, huh?” She again checked out his kilt and those muscular legs.

  “My grandparents emigrated from Scotland. Did you say your name was Lass?”

  “Leslie Livingston. My friends call me Les—oh, my God!”

  “What?” He glowered into the rearview.

  “Fletcher.”

  “Fletcher?”

  “My boyfriend. He’ll be there to pick me up at eight o’clock, and he won’t know where I’ve gone.”

  “Why did he leave?” Without warning, Scott turned onto another road.

  “He wanted to play golf. He’ll worry when I’m not there.”

  “For now. But he’ll thank me when this is all over.”

  For some reason, Leslie didn’t think so. “Dammit, my phone was in my purse so I can’t call him. Do you have a phone?”

  “I left it on the boat. If I carry that damn thing around, one of my employees will be calling every other minute with a building problem.”

  “Boat?”

  “Yeah, I’m staying on a small motor yacht. It belongs to a friend.”

  Her mind turned to more pressing matters. “Are you sure those men were after my amulet? How did you know they were talking about me? Seems like too much a coincidence, unless you were following me, too.”

  In the twilight, he flicked on the headlights and the glow illuminated his face. “All right, you caught me. I was watching you, but not because of the amulet.”

  “Why, then?”

  He slid her a potent glance, his eyes darker in the dimness.

  “You don’t mean—” Her body heated with electrical awareness.

  “I was going to ask you for a phone number or see if yo
u wanted to grab a bite, but that was before Fletcher showed up. Don’t worry. You’re safe. I don’t want another man’s woman.”

  “I’m not his woman.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He sounded doubtful.

  “Not like a piece of property.” And besides that, Fletcher was not possessive enough to call her his woman.

  “Anyway, about the two men who stole your purse, they mentioned that your amulet is ancient and worth a hefty sum. I think they could be right.”

  He looked more like a jock than a scholar. “How do you know?”

  “Oh, how would I know anything? I’m just a big, dumb log-tosser, right?”

  Prickling heat suffused her face. “I didn’t say that.”

  “I’ve studied Celtic history and spent a fair amount of time in Scotland.” He glared into the rearview mirror. “Hell.”

  “What?” Behind them, car lights rapidly approached. “Is that them?”

  “That would be my guess.” The accelerating truck clung to the curves of the winding road, rocking her back and forth.

  One deep curve flung her against Scott. She tried to shove herself off him without success.

  “Hang on.” He jerked the steering wheel, and the truck careened to the right. The motion plastered her so tightly against his hot muscles that she couldn’t right herself until they bounced through several potholes. Her teeth jarred together.

  Why didn’t I put on a seatbelt? The momentum of another hard right turn tumbled her toward him again. Her head thumped against his ribs and her hand landed on his thigh. Oops. She slid down. Locking her hand onto his wide leather belt, she anchored herself so she wouldn’t go flying again.

  Abruptly, he slammed on the brakes, backed up and turned onto a tiny, overgrown road.

  “Where are we?” She peeled her fingers from his belt and sat up.

  Once behind a thicket of dense bushes, he cut the engine and the lights. “In a hiding place.”

  Headlights approached and the SUV flew by with a roar.

  “Why do they want the amulet so badly? How valuable is it?” she asked.

  “The British man believes it’s worth at least a million.”

  “A million dollars? That’s insane! It’s been sitting in my jewelry box for fifteen years, since my grandmother gave it to me.” She brushed her fingertips over the smooth stone that glowed slightly in the dimness.

  Scott cranked the engine, backed up, and tore out of their hiding place, retracing their tracks.

  “I shouldn’t have worn the amulet. I mean, who would’ve thought? How old do you think it is?”

  “It might be from the medieval period or earlier.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “It would be that old if what the British man said is true. He believes it’s a companion piece to the Ring of Glaminy.”

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “A legendary ring with mystical powers and a blue stone. It was stolen from a Scottish museum a few years ago.”

  “But my amulet isn’t blue. And it has never been in a museum.”

  “I know. Maybe it isn’t the Glaminy Amulet, but the men chasing us believe it is. So that’s what’s important at the moment.”

  “True.” She would have an expert examine it when she went back to Columbia.

  Approaching lights from behind lit the truck’s interior.

  “Shit! They’re getting too close. Must be them.” Scott sped up.

  Heart hammering, Leslie stared back at the two menacing high beams. They were almost ramming the bumper. Facing front again, she slid down.

  “Fasten your seatbelt,” Scott said.

  She yanked it around her and snapped the buckle into place. “We have to call the police.”

  “I will when I get these bastards off our tail and find a phone. One of the local deputies is a friend of mine.”

  Something bumped the truck. “Ack! Can you lose them?”

  “I’m trying.”

  A distant pop drew her attention.

  “Damn! They’re shooting at us,” Scott said. “Get down!”

  Kilted Lover: Chapter 2

  Gunshots.

  Dear God! Someone wants to kill me! Leslie loosened the seat belt and slid down enough to hide her head. “What about you?” Scott couldn’t duck and drive at the same time.

  Another shot rang out, and almost simultaneously, something thunked through the back window and into the dash.

  “Oh, my God! A bullet.”

  “That sonofabitch!” A straight stretch of nearly deserted country road came into view. Scott accelerated to a dangerous speed and passed one car. She was afraid to look at the speedometer, so she closed her eyes and prayed he knew what he was doing.

  “Hold on.” He braked severely.

  The road bisected three other paved roads. Scott swung the truck into a hard left and the tires squealed on pavement. The truck roared and the main road disappeared behind them.

  She turned back but saw only darkness. Air puffed through the small bullet hole in the rear window. “I can’t believe they shot at us. Do you think you’ve lost them?”

  “With any luck.”

  Leslie’s insides trembled and the draining adrenaline left her cold. She’d never been in such a terrifying situation.

  They rode for a few minutes in tense silence as the night grew darker. Her breathing evened out. Still, she couldn’t think what to do next. The chaos had jumbled her thoughts.

  Scott’s big hands on the steering wheel and his muscular forearms proved a calming influence. He was like a rock, so confident and sure of himself. He’d saved her life. While putting his own in danger. Would Fletcher have attacked a man with a gun, even if he were capable?

  ***

  A short time later, Scott took Leslie to his friend Paul’s house, where he called the police to report the gunshots.

  Leslie’s stomach knotted, both because of the danger they’d been in and because now she needed to call Fletcher. “Could I use your phone to call my boyfriend?” she asked Paul, an attractive blond man who was smaller and shorter than Scott.

  Paul darted a puzzled glance at Scott. “Sure.”

  Scott moved toward the kitchen area of the rustic great room with Paul, but that didn’t give her much privacy. Too unnerved to sit, she paced behind the brown leather sofa while dialing Fletcher’s number.

  “Fletcher here,” said a surly voice on the other end of the phone line. Fletcher never got surly.

  “Fletcher, thank God!”

  “Leslie?” The pitch of his voice rose. “Where are you? I’m outside the locked gates waiting for you. They’ve closed up. Why didn’t you call me?”

  She filled him in on the purse-snatching, attempt to steal her amulet, and shots fired at them. “A nice man saved my life and helped me get away from them. I’ll meet you at the plantation gate as soon as I can.”

  “We’re not going back there,” Scott interrupted from across the room. “Tell him to go home or back to your hotel.”

  Leslie scowled at Scott’s loud, bossy tone and signaled for him to be quiet with a wave of her hand. But he did have a good idea. “Fletcher, you should go back to the beach house. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Who is this man you mentioned? I want to talk to him.”

  “The tall guy who helped me before when the jerk tried to snatch my amulet.”

  Scott approached her, pausing in front of the huge rock fireplace. “What was in your purse?”

  She covered the receiver, wondering why he’d asked that. “Everything. My phone, wallet, credit cards, license, money, keys.”

  “Information about the beach house you rented? The address?”

  “Oh crap, the rental agreement!”

  “Where are you?” Fletcher demanded for the third time in her ear.

  Quick thoughts zipped through her head. Not that she could tell him how to get to Paul’s house anyway.

  “He wants to know where we are,” Leslie whispered.

>   Scott shook his head. “Don’t tell him. After the thieves lost us, they might have circled back to the Games. They could be standing nearby and he wouldn’t even know it. If that’s the case, they’d follow him here.”

  “Listen, Fletcher. We’ll both be safer if I don’t tell you where I am. The rental agreement and the key to the beach house were in my purse. The thugs will know the location of the beach house. It won’t be safe for you to go there.”

  “I’ll call the police and have them check the place out.”

  “That’s a great idea. Be careful! Go to a hotel for the night. I’ll call you later. Bye.” She clicked the phone off.

  “What did he say?” Scott asked.

  “Fletcher’s going to call the police and have them check the beach house.” She set the phone in the charger and suddenly felt the need to get away from Scott and his overpowering magnetism. “Can I use your restroom?” she asked Paul.

  “Yeah, it’s down there.” Paul pointed toward a short hallway.

  Once inside the bright, clean room, she splashed water on her face. Dear God, she’d just been shot at during a high-speed car chase, and now two men were yanking her in opposite directions. Her brain was overloaded and on the fritz. Tears burned her eyes.

  The thieves had her driver’s license and keys. Her blood chilled. If they wanted, they could go to her condo in Columbia and tear the place apart. Dammit, she’d have to get a new license and cancel her credit cards. She felt violated and nauseous.

  Her only security at the moment, her only peace of mind, came from Scott. Apparently his shoulders were strong enough to carry her problems as well as his own. She felt safe with him, far safer than she would’ve felt with Fletcher in this situation. That unnerved her as well. Relying on another man seemed to her like a type of infidelity. Fletcher wouldn’t appreciate her lack of confidence in him.

  Nor would he appreciate her disturbing, irrational attraction to Scott.

  ***

  “Scott, I have an idea.” Paul strode toward the front door.

  “What?”

  “Outside, bro.”

  Scott sighed, and then followed Paul out, across the lighted front porch and into the driveway. Night had fallen, and clouds hid the moon.

  “You and Leslie should hide out on my motor yacht ‘til things cool down,” Paul said in a low tone. “You’re staying there anyway.”