He knew better than to trust the man. Once Cranston had the treasure, he’d have no use for the child. Later, after the bastard took his fill of Johanna, he’d silence her. Death was uncomplicated for the likes of the human jackal.
Of course, the jackal had competition. The younger Munro worked for another collector. If Cranston knew of his rival, it would only serve to make him more impatient. More reckless. More dangerous.
Still, the sadness in Johanna’s eyes was a punch to the gut, a blow Connor hadn’t seen coming. God only knew he hadn’t meant to cause her pain. She was a lady. Of that, he had no doubt. If she harbored any thought of manipulating him, it didn’t have a damn thing to do with her own gain. The lass was set on rescuing her niece. She’d faced a cur in a fine suit and massive brutes, all to save the bairn. She was not about to shy away from using her beauty to manipulate a man to her advantage.
She didn’t trust him. Her body may have let down its defenses, but that clever mind of hers knew better. Not that Connor could blame her. Given the circumstance, she’d be a fool to trust anyone.
Even him.
He caught Johanna’s hands in his. So small, those hands. Yet not fragile. Not weak. She had a will of iron. This lass would stand her ground, and she’d fight like a she-wolf to protect what she loved. Something about the conviction in her eyes made her even lovelier.
She was a woman who’d make a man stronger. A woman he’d fight for. And die for, if that was his fate.
“Come along, Johanna.” He kept his words simple, his tone even. It wouldn’t do to give her any inkling of the ache in his groin. And in his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Four
At Connor’s side, Johanna walked the path between the stables and the main house. Even in the cool breeze, warmth inflamed her skin and her lips still tingled from his kiss. She focused her gaze on the beauty of the mountains surrounding Dunnhaven, but even that striking sight could not divert her thoughts from the certainty that her cheeks had gone tell-tale scarlet. Surely anyone they happened upon would recognize the flush of passion and deduce the intimate nature of their encounter.
For his part, Connor held himself a bit too casually, as if utterly unaffected by their rendezvous. Somehow, deep inside, Johanna knew better. He’d wanted her, and he still did. No amount of nonchalance could disguise the simmering heat in his eyes whenever he cast a glance her way.
As they neared the house, the pounding of hooves in the distance drifted to her ears. Dunnhaven had a visitor, and from the look on Connor’s face, not an expected one. He tilted his head in the direction of the sound, toward the massive iron gate at the entrance to the estate. An immense black horse made short work of the ground separating the beast and rider from the main house with long, sure strides. Recognition washed over Connor’s face.
“Bluidy hell,” he muttered.
She shot him a questioning look, but he offered no elaboration. The thundering hoof beats grew louder as the rider neared. The horseman brought his mount to a slow trot. As he came closer, Johanna took in the familiar build and sable hair, so very much like Connor’s. This man was obviously a MacMasters. So why had Connor reacted as if the devil’s spawn had come to call?
Reining the beast to a stop, the rider swung out of the saddle. A lazy grin marked a rugged face that bore the same chiseled jaw as Connor. While Connor’s eyes were the color of the forest, this man’s were a rich, golden brown, the color of smoky topaz. The vitality in the rider’s keenly intelligent gaze added an undeniable appeal to what might have been ordinary features on another man.
Connor regarded him with a surly stare. “Why are ye here?”
“Bah, that’s no way to greet yer brother.” The rider’s narrowed eyes betrayed tension his amiable tone could not entirely disguise. “Do ye plan to introduce me, or must I take it upon myself?”
“Verrae well.” Connor turned to Johanna, offering a brief, perfunctory introduction. “Miss Templeton—” His gaze darted to the other man. “My brother, Gerard MacMasters.”
Gerard’s smile lit his intriguing eyes. “Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Miss—”
“Johanna.” She bit back a wicked little smile as a frown etched a furrow between Connor’s dark brows.
“Johanna,” Gerard echoed, as if savoring each syllable as it rolled off his tongue. “A lovely name.”
“What the hell are ye doing here?” Connor’s question shattered any illusion of pleasant civility.
His brother met the inquiry with a deliberately bland expression. “I’ve been summoned.”
The line between Connor’s brows deepened. “Summoned?”
“Our brother the physician sent a messenger last night. He anticipates a situation that requires my particular expertise.” Gerard’s attention slanted to Johanna. “I assume the lass is involved in this.”
Connor nodded. “Ye’re not needed here. Damn shame ye wasted yer time.”
His brother’s interest lingered on Johanna. “If Miss Templeton requires assistance, I’d say the time was well spent, indeed.”