Page 10 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

“I don’t ken that, lass, now come on, go share these out while they’re still warm. I can’t do it, I have a wedding feast to prepare though I fear it will be the death of me when I’m still exhausted from last night’s banquet.”

Isla set down the basket and took the tray.

Thanks be to the fairies it’s a full moon tonight. If McTavish is leaving, the sooner the spell is done the better.

She wound her way through the castle and out into the courtyard. There was an extra buzz of activity. The upcoming wedding had created a sense of urgency and excitement amongst the entire staff.

On the opposite side of the courtyard the farrier was hammering a shoe at his anvil. At his side a small kiln glowed red.

McTavish was holding his horse—a huge bay creature with a dazzling long wavy mane and thick tail. It was nuzzling McTavish’s open palm in a lazy, caressing gesture.

McTavish was talking to two of his men, but as Isla approached his conversation appeared to run dry. For a moment his mouth was a flat line as he studied her, then it curled into a smile.

“What have ye got there?” he asked when she drew close.

Isla’s first instinct was to look away from his eyes again, as her aunt had told her many years ago. But she forced herself not to and held his gaze steady. “Scones from the kitchen, fresh out of the oven.”

“They look good.” McTavish’s grin widened and his gaze dropped, but not to the scones, to the small patch of exposed flesh above her breasts.

A small shiver went through her. It was perfectly pleasant and made her skin goose bump. Unlike when other men looked her, his attention was a caress and she longed for more.

And I will have more… I will make sure of it.

“You should try one.” She held the tray forward.

McTavish took one as did the men standing at his side.

“Mmm, good,” he said as he chewed. “You make these?”

“No, I don’t do the baking for guests. Mrs. Humphrey does that.”

“You can’t bake?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Aye, just fine, but she likes to take all the credit. When there’s no one here to impress, that’s when I have to roll up my sleeves.”

He laughed softly, that lovely sound that had surprised her the night before—so gentle and melodious coming from such a huge man. “Well, in that case, these are good, Isla, but I’d like to taste yours sometime.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” She offered the farrier a scone, threw McTavish a grin that said she was offeringhimmore than a taste of her baking, then headed back to the kitchen.

“You wanna watch that wench,” one of McTavish’s friends said loudly. “She’s the one who got Broc into a whole load of trouble the eve just gone, remember.”

“Aye, of course I remember,” McTavish replied. “And the trouble was of his own doing.”

“I won’t disagree, but she’s got the look of a temptress and Broc fell for it.”

“Mmm, maybe,” McTavish said.

“And old eyes,” the other added, “looks like she’s got more wisdom than a lass should have.”

“Perhaps that’s what’s so tempting.” McTavish’s voice deepened. “And I don’t ken if I’ll try to resist.”

Isla glanced over her shoulder and looked right at McTavish.

He was staring back at her with his eyebrows pulled low and a determined set to his jawline.

You’ll have no choice after tonight’s potion is made and I’ve cast the love spell.

She smiled, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and made her way back into the castle.

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