Page 14 of Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector 2)

Joanna smiled. Grant MacDara was finally “winded.”

“Aye…quite lethal, I fear.” Slowly and ever so gently, he set her away from him. He was silent a long, painful few moments before he finally spoke. “Ye said ye had much work yet to do this evenin’. We’d best be gettin’ ye back to yer room, ye ken? I dinna wish t’have ye think ill of me.”

“You want to what?” Joanna blinked. Surely, she hadn’t heard him right. She stared at him, her entire body humming and ready to shift into overdrive. It had been a long dry spell since the last time she’d had a good romp with something that wasn’t battery operated. Grant wasn’t getting off the hook that easy—precious contract or not. “Would you mind repeating that and telling me why?”

“Aye, I would mind verra much,” Grant said, still backing away. “ ’Tis no’ the proper time—yet. I dinna wish for ye t’think ill of me. Come. We’ll go back the way we came so we’ll come out closer to the bed-and-breakfast. I’ll see ye safe to yer room and bid ye good night.”

“Tell you what, I’ll make this easy for you.” Joanna jabbed her thumb in the direction Grant suggested. “You go that way. I’ll take the other direction.”

Grant shook his head. He glanced down at the ground with a heavy sigh, then lifted his chin and locked a scowling gaze on her. “Nay. I canna let ye run alone. Ye should ken that well enough by now.”

“You can and you will. Do you ‘ken’ that?” Joanna unzipped the running pack buckled around her waist. She held up a tiny black spray can, shook it in his face, then shoved it back in her bag. “I’ve got pepper spray. Trust me. I’mfine.” She zipped the waist pack shut with a frustrated jerk.Asshole alert. Maybe this is just the tip of the loser iceberg.

“Ye canna run alone.”

“The hell I can’t.”

He had no right. She turned and took off.

This race was on.

Chapter 6

“Damn woman.” Grant snarled out a frustrated growl as Joanna sprinted off. “Joanna!”

His bellow echoed out across the valley then faded away, replaced by the soft rustling of pine branches in the breeze. “Stubborn lass! Ye canna outrun me! Ye should ken that well enough!”

She had to have heard him. He waited a moment longer, listening, waiting for her to see sense and come walking back to him, head bowed in contrition. All he heard was the sound of his own breathing and the wind laughing at him through the trees.

“Hell’s hounds and damnation!” He jogged after her, loping around a winding curve and up the last incline before the path would turn downward and head in the direction of the other side of town. He’d catch up with her in no time and when he did, he had a good mind to…

Joanna was nowhere in sight.

“Sons a bitches!” He increased his speed and cut loose another frustrated roar that shook through him, burning his throat upon release. He didna ken what the hell he’d do when he caught up with the vexing female, but he’d damn sure make her rue not listenin’. And where the devil was she? She’d no’ gotten that much of a start on him.

Grant gradually slowed, then came to a stop at the trail’s summit. He climbed atop the flat-topped boulder that he and Ramsay had placed at this point in the trail as a marker. The nearly full moon flooded the landscape with enough blue-white light that Grant could easily see in all directions. Still no Joanna. Not on the path. Nor on any of the land that had been cleared of trees. The small patches of grass waiting for the installation of picnic tables for the tourists were empty save for one or two foraging deer. The infernal woman had managed to disappear into thin air.

“She wasna runnin’ that fast,” Grant said under his breath.If ’tis a hunt she wants…’tis a hunt she’ll have.Eyes narrowed, he studied the area closer, backtracking and examining the path for signs. He turned his face away from the wind and listened, concentrating on picking up the slightest noise.

There. Southward. In the direction heading back to the bed-and-breakfast. Any lighter, and he would’ve deemed the noise an errant squirrel disturbing last year’s leaves and pine needles scattered across the woodland floor. But he kent verra well that a squirrel wouldna risk becoming dinner for an owl by scurrying about at this time of night. And the sound was too loud and consistent to be the careless shuffling of the nocturnal possum or skunk, the first too stupid to attempt to avoid predators, the latter too well armed to care.

It was Joanna. Attempting t’sneak through the woods. Making her way back the way they’d come without taking to the trail. Grant nodded with a grin. Smart woman. She knew she’d ne’er outrun him. At some point, she must’ve darted off the path, hidden quietly, then retraced her steps after he’d run past her.

Good. I’ve no’ had a hunt this fine since I was torn from Scotland.

He took to the path and hurried back the way he’d come. Once he’d reached a point well ahead of Joanna’s woodland noise, he’d cross over into the woods and cut her off. He’d overtake her easily. She wasna moving fast. The density of the thicket and her unfamiliarity with the forest had slowed her to a stubborn crawl.

Moving as silently as a shadow, Grant eased into the forest, making his way to a large decaying log lying directly across Joanna’s route. He crouched behind the massive moss-covered stump of the tree belonging to the log, poised to stand as soon as Joanna attempted to pass. Judging by the sound of her footfalls, the lass was headed directly for him. The soft, steady shuffling rattled within a few feet of him.

’Tis time.Grant rose and stepped out from behind the stump.

“Son of a bitch!” Arms flailing, Joanna stumbled backwards, then fell flat on her ass. Without rising, she grabbed a nearby rotting stick and threw it at his head. “What the hell is wrong with you? You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Grant charged forward, stabbing the air with his finger as he spoke. “I told ye no’ to run alone. Did I not?” Stubborn woman. Time t’make her see the danger and folly of her hardheaded ways. “D’ye ken now how easy ’twould be for someone t’make ye their prey? Ye best learn t’listen when I speak, ye headstrong woman.”

Joanna scrambled backwards, grabbing up anything she could pry loose from the forest floor and throwing it at him as she moved. “You can’ttell meto do or not do a damn thing. What I do is none of your business, you…you…asshole!”

“Here I am concerned for yer safety and ye slander me.” Grant stopped and shook his head. “Shame on ye, woman. A lady doesna call her man an arsehole.”

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