Page 21 of Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector 2)

Lucia leaned over, rested a hand on Joanna’s shoulder, and squeezed. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll talk to him. I promise.”

Joanna clasped her hands on the table. She laced her fingers so tightly her knuckles turned white. Staring down at her hands, she gave Lucia a slight jerking nod, then leaned forward and pressed her clenched hands against her forehead. Eyes closed, she tried to focus on something else—anything else.Breathe. Take in air. Blow it out.She needed to be still and block out the world until the feeling that she was either going to vomit or pass out went away.

“Joanna—I am truly sorry. I promise I’ll handle it.” Lucia hugged her a moment longer, then her arm slid away, making Joanna feel even colder.

“He’s only seven, Mr. MacDara,” Lucia said, a mother’s plea for understanding ringing in her voice. “His daddy died when he was four and he’s been a very protective ‘man-of-the-house’ ever since. Please don’t hold Joanna responsible for anything Tyler says.”

Eyes still shut, Joanna vaguely heard the tapping steps of Lucia’s favorite high-heeled boots fade off into the distance.Maybe if I keep my eyes shut and my head bowed he’ll think I’m praying and go away.

Her hopes rose when she felt the table shift slightly and heard the sound of someone sliding along the wooden bench across from her. He was standing up. He was leaving.Thank you. Once you’re gone, I can crawl in a hole and die.

A large hand slid under her upper arm and gently lifted. “Come, Joanna. We need privacy. This is no’ the place to discuss such sensitive matters.”

Joanna stiffened and pulled back. She barely raised her head, still pressing her hands against her forehead. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared straight ahead. “Can’t you just go away?” She couldn’t look at him. She’d completely lose it if she looked up and saw the disgust and pity that had to be in his eyes. “Please? Just go?”

“Nay. I cannot.” He pulled on her arm again, steady but firmer this time. “Come. We’ve many ghosts betwixt the two of us and I willna lose ye to such. ’Tis time t’send the ghosts back to the hell to which they belong.”

Joanna rose, not sure if her legs would hold her. She’d sworn she’d never tell that damn story again. It had nearly killed her to confess all to Lucia and beg for a place to stay. But God bless her foster sister. Newly widowed and needing comfort herself, Lucia had happily welcomed Joanna in and never once judged her for the idiotic choices that had landed Joanna’s life in the toilet. “We’re sisters,” she’d said with a simple shrug. And that had been the end of the discussion.

“Where are we going?” Joanna asked, finding it difficult to speak above a hoarse whisper.

“My croft.” Grant tossed a few bills on the table, nodded to the waitress, then pressed a hand to the small of Joanna’s back and steered her toward the exit. “ ’Tis on the far eastern border of the park. Beside the river and a great deal more private. I’ll borrow one of maintenance’s UTVs.”

“Fine.” She was totally damned. What the hell else could she do? At least, after she’d told him the sad saga of Joanna the Stupid, he’d be done with her and she wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Hopefully, he wouldn’t hold her incompetence with relationships against Carolina Adventures. When it came to business, she had a brain and used it.

“This one here. ’Tis the smoothest ride of the three.” Grant helped her climb into the passenger side of the utility terrain vehicle and securely buckled her in as though she were a child.

Knotting her hands in her lap, Joanna stared out the windshield.Damn, I don’t wanna relive that nightmare again. I really don’t want to tell him about Matthew.But what choice did she have? Thanks to Tyler’s teasing tidbits, she owed Grant an explanation—especially after today and last night. At least then the man would understand why it was better if they went their separate ways before something terrible happened.

The road they were on grew narrower until it couldn’t even be called a path. Joanna grabbed hold of the straps hanging down from the roll bar, rocking in the seat as they bumped across a washed-out section of what could only be called a dirt trail through the woods.Dammit. He wasn’t kidding when he said his place was private. It’s freaking secluded.

“Nearly there,” Grant said, rapidly whipping the steering wheel back and forth to find the smoothest parts of the road. “I dinna think I have any coffee in the place, but I’m sure I can find a bit of tea for ye, some ale—and for certain, whisky, if ye need something stronger.”

“I’m thinking I’ll definitely need whisky.” Of course, as queasy as she was currently feeling, weak tea might be the best. An alcohol-induced crying jag and a grand finale of puking would probably make Grant kick her ass out into the woods, and she’d never find her way back to civilization from this remote level of what was soon to be her own personal hell.

Grant geared down and braked the UTV to a rough stop in front of a sprawling structure of rough-hewn wood beams and stone that looked as though its oversized blocks had been chiseled and set during the Dark Ages. Tall slabs of ancient limestone stained a greenish brown from encroaching moss and ivy framed the foundation to the roof eave, but modern-day tinted windows guaranteed to keep out the heat and the cold.

“ ’Tis a combination of both old and new. Dwyn wouldna hear of anything less.” Grant waved her toward the entrance.

“I was expecting something a lot smaller. Just you here—right?” Joanna climbed out of the vehicle and followed a leaf-strewn path of large, flat rocks to a porch massive and elaborate enough to hold its own with the over-the-top design of the house. “It’s like a castle mated with a Swiss ski lodge and this is their secret love child they’re hiding in the woods.”

“Aye, perhaps.” Grant shrugged, his gaze roaming across the split-level compound that covered nearly an acre of mountainous North Carolina woodland. “I ne’er thought of it that way. All I know is this place is what came to mind when I decided I needed a sanctuary of me own.”

“It’s lovely.”If I stall long enough…

“Come.” Grant held out his hand. “Best ta get this o’er with. I see what yer about. Time t’talk this out. Now.”

Dammit.Joanna ignored Grant’s hand and climbed the wide limestone steps leading up to the enclosed porch that appeared to run the length of over half the building. Rustic wooden chairs, chaises, and loungers were strategically placed in cozy seating areas on the finely sanded oak plank flooring that had been bleached a pale shade to lighten up the space.

Bronze lanterns with decorative bubbled and wavy glass housed thick ivory pillar candles. Some were placed on the small end tables arranged beside the chairs and others hung from the rafters. A fireplace was built into a turn in the porch and a wet bar filled the wall beside it.

The entire outside living space was screened in but since it was March, the protective glass storm windows had yet to be removed. Ceiling fans evenly spaced across the porch created a pleasant breeze throughout.

Entwining her fingers in the rope netting of a hammock-style reading chair suspended in a corner overlooking the river, Joanna lightly spun the cozy seat, then patted its overstuffed cushions covered in the MacDara plaid. “You designed the seating areas on this porch? This reading nook with the pillows and throw blankets? The breakfast table and chairs with the pine bough and candle centerpiece?” If Grant MacDara had designed all this, the man was really in touch with his designer side.

“Nay. Esme. She’s fond of makin’ spaces more…pretty, she says—when she’s no’ actin’ like a wee sixteen-year-old beastie.” Grant made his way to the bar. Lining up two heavy-bottomed short glasses on the dark granite counter, he glanced back at Joanna. “Will it be whisky then?”

What the hell. Might as well.“It’s a little early, but sure, why not.”

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