The Dark Highlander Page 52


I’ll bet he does in bed. She was utterly rattled by the thought of all that disciplined muscle coming undone in bed. God, she could just taste it. …

She shivered, studying the two men.

They were twins, but they weren’t completely identical, she realized. There were minute differences. Drustan’s hair wasn’t as long, a bit past his shoulders, his eyes silvery. Taller, and he probably weighed more. Drustan was packed with muscle, Dageus’s body was leaner, more ripped. Same beautiful, chiseled features though. Even the same dark shadow beard on similar jaws. She peered intently. Dageus’s mouth was more … full and sulky. The mouth of a born seducer.

She was so engrossed that she didn’t even notice the woman’s approach until she spoke softly.

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?”

Chloe turned, startled. The woman who’d spoken was as short as she was, and extremely pregnant, with silvery-blond hair and wispy fringed bangs. Her hair was twisted up in a knot and slightly damp, and Chloe blushed a little, realizing they’d obviously both been in the shower, and she found it highly doubtful that they’d been in separate ones. She was beautiful, glowing with the unique radiance of a pregnant woman who was utterly thrilled by impending motherhood, or … the radiance of a woman who’d just been treated to a MacKeltar’s special seductive talents in the shower, Chloe thought wistfully. The mere thought of taking a shower with Dageus made Chloe feel rather glowy herself.

“Very. I had no idea they were twins. Dageus didn’t tell me.”

“Drustan didn’t tell me either. He regretted that later, when I kissed Dageus because I thought he was Drustan. Drustan didn’t care for it one bit. They’re possessive about their women, but I’m sure you know that. I’m Gwen, by the way, Drustan’s wife.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Chloe Zanders.” Chloe nibbled her lip uncertainly, then felt it necessary to clarify, “But I’m not his … er, woman. We met only recently and I’m just here to help him with translations.”

Gwen looked highly amused. “If you say so. How did the two of you meet?”

If you say so? Now just what did that mean? And how to answer the question about how they’d met? Chloe opened her mouth and shut it again. Surely not, I snooped through his penthouse and he tied me to his bed. And then I started turning into a person I hardly recognize anymore. “That’s a long story,” she said warily.

“Those are the best kind—I can’t wait to hear it! I have a few of my own.” Gwen looped her arm through Chloe’s and steered her toward the staircase. “Farley,” she called over her shoulder to the white-haired butler, “would you have tea and coffee sent up to the solar? And some snacks. I’m starving.”

“Right away, milady.” With a doting look at Gwen, the butler rushed off.

“Why don’t we get to know each other while they catch up?” Gwen asked, turning back to Chloe. “They’ve not seen each other in quite some time.”

Chloe glanced again at Dageus. He and Drustan were still standing in the middle of the great hall, talking intently. Just then, as if he felt her gaze on him, Dageus looked at her, tensed, and started to walk toward her.

Surprised by his concern for her at what was clearly a difficult moment for him, Chloe shook her head, assuring him wordlessly that she was fine.

After a moment’s hesitation, he turned back to Drustan.

Chloe smiled at Gwen. “I’d like that.”

• 13 •

When the lasses hastened off to the solar, Drustan and Dageus adjourned to the privacy of the library. A spacious, masculine room with cherry bookcases recessed into paneled walls, comfortable chairs and ottomans, a dusky-rose marble fireplace and tall, bay windows, the library was Drustan’s retreat, much as the glass-faced solar that overlooked the gardens was Gwen’s.

Drustan couldn’t take his eyes off his twin brother. He’d nigh given up hope that Dageus would come home. He’d been dreading what he might have to do if his brother didn’t. But he was here now, and the tight fist that had been clutched around his heart since the day he’d read and, in a fit of fury, burned the letter their da had left him, finally, blessedly, eased a bit.

Dageus tossed himself into a chair near the fireplace, stretched out his legs, and propped his feet on a stool. “What think you of the castle, Drustan? It appears to have withstood the centuries well.”

Aye, that it had. The castle had surpassed all of Drustan’s expectations. If ever a man had received proof of his brother’s love, it had been in the gift of their home. Then Dageus had topped even that gift by sacrificing himself to ensure Drustan would survive to live in it. But Dageus had always been like that: though not a man to whom soft words came readily, when he loved, he loved to a dangerous point. ’Tis both his greatest strength and weakness, Silvan had oft remarked, and truer words had never been uttered. He had the wild, true heart of a child, in the body of a jaded man. Intensely guarded, unless he chose to give it, yet once given, it was given completely. Without thought to his own survival.