The Sinner

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Table of Contents

Copyright Page

This book is dedicated to

the Wallace sisters, here and in Heaven:

My mother, Audrey, and my aunts, Priscilla and Dorothy

Acknowledgments

I am grateful to my editor, Alex Logan, who reminded me to play to my strengths and helped make this a better book. Many thanks to her and the entire team at Grand Central Publishing for all they do for me. A warm thank-you to my agent, Kevan Lyon, for pretending I’m not troublesome and for giving me wise counsel and enthusiastic support.

I am indebted to Anthea Lawson, my critique partner, and to Ginny Heim, who reads all my manuscripts. Thank you with all my heart. When my confidence ran low, Erynn Carter, Theresa Scott, and Chris Trujillo kindly pitched in and read all or part of the draft manuscript for me. I am grateful to my RWA chapter-mates and fellow romance authors who continue to give me support and guidance.

A special thank-you to Josephine Piraneo at GlassSlipperWebDesign.com for making my website beautiful and doing endless updates for me. Thanks also to Sharron Gunn for her help with Gaelic, though any mistakes are mine, and to Mark Steven Long, who is an author’s dream copy editor.

I apologize to my husband for all the evenings he is left with the dog for company while I write. I am fortunate to have a family who supports me so completely in this writing adventure. Finally, I want to say a big thank-you to all the readers who have sent me messages telling me you enjoyed my books. You make it all worthwhile.

Chan ann leis a’chiad bhuille thuiteas a’chraobh.

It is not with the first stroke that the tree falls.

—Gaelic Proverb

PROLOGUE

ON A SHIP OFF THE EAST COAST OF SCOTLAND

May 1515

Weeping will get you nothing,” the woman said. “Be quiet if you want to go up.”

Claire wiped her eyes on her sleeve and scrambled to her feet.

“You’d best learn to be tough, where you’re going,” the woman said, as she gathered her skirts to start up the rope ladder. “They say Scotland is full of wild warriors who would sooner cut your throat than bid you good day.”

The rungs were too far apart for Claire’s legs, and the woman’s heavy skirts brushed her head as she climbed. When the ship swayed, she lost her footing. For a long, frightening moment, Claire swung by her arms, kicking in the air, until her foot found the rung again.

“I don’t know how the Scots can call themselves Christian,” the woman said in a muffled voice above her, “when they have wicked fairies hiding behind every rock.”

Finally, a burst of cold night air hit Claire’s face and blew her hair back.

“Don’t speak to anyone,” the woman said, grabbing Claire’s wrist in a grip that pinched, “or the mistress will dismiss me, and then you’ll have no one to take care of you.”

Claire leaned her head back to look at the stars. Every night when the woman brought her food and allowed her to come up the ladder for a short while, she found the star and made her wish to go home to her grandmère and grandpère.

She did not understand why her grandparents had let this woman take her away, or why, despite making sure she made her wish on the very brightest star, she did not find herself in her own bed in the morning. But she knew Grandmère and Grandpère would not approve of how this woman was taking care of their special little girl. So tonight, she made a new wish.

Please, send someone better to take care of me.

CHAPTER 1

ON THE OPPOSITE COAST OF SCOTLAND

THE NEXT DAY

Ye are a devil, Alex Bàn MacDonald!”

Alex caught the boot the woman threw at his head. As he paused on the stairs to put it on, his other boot hit the stone wall behind him and bounced down the staircase.

“Janet, can I have my shirt and plaid as well, please?” he called up.

Her dark hair spilled over her shoulder as she leaned over the stairs to glare at him. “My name is not Janet!”

Damn, Janet was the last one.

“Sorry, Mary,” he said. “I’m sure ye don’t want anyone seeing me leave your house bare-arsed, so be a sweet lass and toss my clothes down.”

“Ye don’t even know why I’m angry, do ye?”

The woman’s voice had a catch in it now that made him nervous. God, he hated it when they cried. Alex considered leaving without his clothes.

“I must go,” he said. “My friend is here with the boat, waiting.”

“Ye aren’t coming back, are ye?” Mary said.

He shouldn’t have come in the first place. He’d avoided Mary for weeks, but she’d found him at his father’s house last night, drunk and desperate. After a week with his parents, he would have followed a demon to hell to escape.

“I was going to leave my husband for ye,” Mary called down.

“For God’s sake, lass, ye don’t want to do that!” Alex bit his tongue to keep from reminding her that she was the one who had started the affair—and she’d made it very clear at the time that all she wanted from him was between his legs. “I’m sure your husband is a fine man.”

“He’s an idiot!”

“Idiot or no, he won’t like finding another man’s clothes in your bedchamber,” Alex said, talking to her in the even tones he used to calm horses. “So please, Mary, let me have them so I can go.”

“Ye will regret this, Alexander Bàn MacDonald!”

He already did.

His shirt and plaid floated down to him as the door slammed upstairs. As he dressed, Alex had a sour feeling in his belly. Most of the time, he managed to part on good terms with the women he bedded. He liked them, they liked him, and they understood it was only meant to be a bit of fun. But he had misjudged this one.

“Alex!” Through the open window, he heard Duncan calling from the shore. “There’s a man walking up the path. Get your arse in the boat!”

Alex climbed out the window and ran for the boat. Not his finest moment. He took the rudder while Duncan raised the sail, and they headed for open water.

Duncan was in a foul mood—but then he often was. He stomped around the boat, making sure everything was tied down, which it already was.

“Are ye no tired of these antics with women?” Duncan finally said. “God knows I am.”

Alex was weary to death of it, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Instead, he said, “This was easier in France.”

Alex and Duncan—along with Alex’s cousins, Connor and Ian—had spent five years in France, fighting and swiving. It had been grand. Once a French noblewoman gave her husband an heir, no one got too excited if she discreetly took a lover. Ach, it was almost expected. In truth, Highlanders were no more likely to keep their vows, but bloodshed and clan wars were a too-frequent consequence.

“How did ye know where to find me?” Alex asked when his curiosity got the better of him.

“I saw Mary drag your drunken arse off last night just as I arrived,” Duncan said. “Ye didn’t look worth the trouble, but then, she doesn’t strike me as particular.”

Alex fixed his gaze on the horizon as they sailed past his parents’ houses. When his mother left his father, she had only gone across the inlet, where she could watch him. His father was no better—both paid servants in each other’s houses to spy for them.

“Why does my mother insist on returning to my father’s house when I visit?” Alex asked, though he didn’t expect an answer. “My ears are still ringing from the shouting.”

When they reached open water, Alex stretched out to enjoy the sun and sea breeze. They had a long sail ahead of them, from their home island of Skye to the outer isles.

“Remind me how Connor convinced us to pay a visit on the MacNeils,” Alex said.

“We volunteered,” Duncan said.

“Ach, that was foolish,” Alex said, “when we know the MacNeil chieftain is looking for husbands for his daughters.”

“Aye.”

Alex opened one eye to look at his big, red-haired friend. “Were we that drunk?”

“Aye,” Duncan said with one of his rare smiles.

Duncan was a good man, if a wee bit dour these days—which just went to show that love could bring the strongest of men to their knees.

“And he didn’t tell us that he wanted us to visit the MacNeils while we’re in the outer isles,” Duncan said, “until after he’d lured us in with the prospect of chasing pirates.”

“Since Connor became chieftain,” Alex said, “I swear he grows more devious by the day.”

“Ye could make this easy by marrying one of the MacNeils’ daughters,” Duncan said, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“I see ye do remember how to make a joke.” Not many men teased Duncan, so Alex did his best to make up for it.

“Ye know that’s what Connor wants,” Duncan said. “He has no brothers to make marriage alliances with other clans—so a cousin will have to do. If ye don’t like one of the MacNeil lasses, there are plenty of other chieftains’ daughters.”

“I’d take a blade for Connor,” Alex said, losing his humor, “but I’ll no take a wife for him.”

“Connor has a way of getting what he wants,” Duncan said. “I wager you’ll be wed within half a year.”

Alex sat up and grinned at his friend. “What shall we wager?”

“This boat,” Duncan said.

“Perfect.” Alex loved this sleek little galley that sliced through the water like a fish. They had been arguing over who had the better right to it ever since they had stolen it from Shaggy Maclean. “You’re going to miss this sweet boat.”

* * *

“Can ye hurry with your stitching?” Glynis asked, as she peered out her window. “Their boat is nearly at the sea gate.”

“Your father is going to murder ye for this.” Old Molly’s face was grim, but her needle flew along the seam at Glynis’s waist.

“Better dead than wed again,” Glynis said under her breath.

“This trick will work but once, if it works at all.” Old Molly paused to tie a knot and rethread the needle. “’Tis a losing game you’re playing, lass.”

Glynis crossed her arms. “I won’t let him marry me off again.”

“Your da is just as stubborn as you, and he’s the chieftain.” Old Molly looked up from her sewing to fix her filmy eyes on Glynis. “Not all men are as blackhearted as your first husband.”

“Perhaps not,” Glynis said, though she was far from convinced. “But the MacDonalds of Sleat are known philanderers. I swear on my grandmother’s grave, I’ll no take one of them.”

“Beware of what ye swear, lass,” Old Molly said. “I knew your grandmother well, and I’d hate for ye to cause that good woman to turn in her grave.”

“Ouch!” Glynis yelped when a loud banging caused Old Molly to stick the needle into her side.

“Get yourself down to the hall, Glynis!” her father shouted from the other side of the door. “Our guests are arriving.”

“I’m almost ready, da,” Glynis called out, and sidled over to the door.

“Don’t think ye can fool me with a sweet voice,” he said. “What are ye doing in there?”

Glynis risked opening the door a crack and stuck her face in it. Her father, a big, barrel-chested man, was looking as foul-tempered as his reputation.

“Ye said I should dress so these damned MacDonalds won’t soon forget me,” she said. “That takes a woman time, da.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but he let it pass. After all these years of living with a wife and daughters, females were still largely a mystery to her father. In this war with him, Glynis was willing to use whatever small advantage she had.

“Their new chieftain didn’t come himself,” he said, in what for him was a low voice. “But it was too much to hope a chieftain would take ye, after the shame ye brought upon yourself. One of these others will have to do.”

Glynis swallowed against the lump in her throat. Having her father blame her for her failed marriage—and believe that she had dishonored her family—hurt more than anything her husband had done to her.

“I did nothing shameful,” she said through clenched teeth. “But I will, if ye force me to take another husband.”

Glynis had a clear right to quit her marriage under the time-honored Highland tradition of trial marriage. Unfortunately, neither her father nor her former husband had taken her decision well.

“Ye were born obstinate as an ox,” her father shouted through the six-inch crack in the door. “But I am your father and your chieftain, and ye will do as I tell ye.”

“What man will want a woman who’s shamed herself?” she hissed at him.

“Ach, men are fools for beauty,” her father said. “Despite what happened, ye are still that.”

Glynis slammed the door shut in his face and threw the bar across it.

“Ye will do as I say, or I’ll throw ye out to starve!” That was all she could make out amidst his long string of curses before his footsteps echoed down the spiral stone staircase.

Glynis blinked hard to keep back the tears. She was done with weeping.

“I should have given ye poison as a wedding gift so ye could come home a widow,” Old Molly said behind her. “I told the chieftain he was wedding ye to a bad man, but he’s no better at listening than his daughter is.”

“Quickly now.” Glynis picked up the small bowl from the side table and held it out to Molly. “It will ruin everything if he loses patience and comes back to drag me downstairs.”

Old Molly heaved a great sigh and dipped her fingers into the red clay paste.

CHAPTER 2

The MacNeil Stronghold, Barra Island

Alex guided the boat to the sea gate of the MacNeil castle, which was built on a rock island a few yards offshore. A short time later, he and Duncan were surrounded by a large group of armed MacNeil warriors who escorted them into the castle’s keep.

“I see we’ve got them scared,” Alex said in a low voice to Duncan.

“We could take them,” Duncan grunted.

“Did ye notice that there are twelve of them?” Alex asked.

“I’m no saying it would be easy.”

Alex laughed, which had the MacNeils all reaching for their swords. He was enjoying himself. Still, he hoped that he and Duncan wouldn’t have to fight their way out. These were Highland warriors, not Englishmen or Lowlanders, and everyone knew MacNeils were mean and devious fighters.

Almost as mean and devious as MacDonalds.

But the MacNeils had more dangerous weapons in their arsenal. Alex heard Duncan groan beside him as they entered the hall and saw what was waiting for them.

“God save us” escaped Alex’s lips. There were three twittering lasses sitting at the head table. The girls were pretty, but young and innocent enough to give Alex hives.

One of them wiggled her fingers at him, then her sister elbowed her in the ribs, and all three went into a fit of giggles behind their hands.

It was going to be a long evening.

“Quiet!” the chieftain thundered, and the color drained from the girls’ faces.

After exchanging greetings with Alex and Duncan, the MacNeil introduced his wife, an attractive, plump woman half his age, and his young son, who sat on her lap.

“These are my three youngest daughters,” the chieftain said, waving his arm toward the girls. “My eldest will join us soon.”

The missing daughter would be the one they’d heard about. She was rumored to be a rare beauty who had been turned out by her husband in disgrace.

She sounded like Alex’s kind of woman.

Before the chieftain could direct them where to sit, Alex and Duncan took seats at the far end from the three lasses. After a cursory prayer, wine and ale was poured, and the first courses were brought out.

Alex wanted to get their business done and leave. “Our chieftain hopes to strengthen the friendship between our two clans and has sent us here on a mission of goodwill.”

The MacNeil kept glancing at the doorway, his face darker each time. Though their host didn’t appear to be listening to a word, Alex forged ahead.

“Our chieftain pledges to join ye in fighting the pirates who are harassing your shores,” Alex said.

That caught the MacNeil’s attention. “The worst of them is his own uncle, Hugh Dubh,” he said, using the nickname Black Hugh, given him for his black heart.

“Hugh is his half uncle,” Duncan put in, as if that explained it all. “Two of his other half uncles have joined the pirates as well.”

“How do I know these MacDonald pirates aren’t raping and pillaging the outer isles on your chieftain’s orders?” the MacNeil demanded.

This was precisely what Connor feared the other chieftains would believe.

“Because they’ve raided our own clansmen up on North Uist,” Alex said. “Since we can’t know when or where Hugh will attack, the best way to catch him is to find his camp. Have ye heard any rumors of where it might be?”

“They say Hugh Dubh has piles of gold hidden away in his camp,” one of the MacNeil’s look-alike daughters piped up, “and he has a sea monster that protects it.”

“But no one can find Hugh,” another girl added, fixing wide blue eyes on Alex, “because he can call up a sea mist by magic and disappear.”

“Then I’ll just look for a sea monster in the mist,” Alex said to the girls, and Duncan glared at him for causing another round of giggles.

“Enough of these foolish tales,” their father shouted at the girls, then turned back to Alex and Duncan. “’Tis true that Hugh’s ship does have a way of disappearing into the mists, and no one knows where his camp is.”

The MacNeil chief tilted his head back to take a long drink from his cup, then slammed it on the table, sputtering and choking.

Alex followed the direction of his gaze—and almost choked on his own ale when he saw the woman. Ach, the poor lass had suffered the worst case of pox Alex had ever seen. The afflicted woman crossed the room at a brisk pace, her gaze fixed on the floor. When she took the place at the end of the table next to Alex, he had to move over to make room for her. She was quite stout, though not in a pleasing sort of way.

Alex tried not to stare at the pockmarks when he turned to greet her. But he couldn’t help it. God’s bones, these weren’t old scars—the pox were still oozing! Blood never troubled him at all, of course, but he was a wee bit squeamish about seeping sores.

“They call me Alexander Bàn.” Alexander the Fair-Haired. He put on a bright smile and waited. When she kept her gaze on the table and didn’t respond, he asked, “And you are?”

“Glynis.”

Since she refused to look at him, Alex could stare freely. The longer he looked, the more certain he was that the pockmarks weren’t oozing—they were melting. Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I confess, ye have me curious,” he said, leaning close to her ear. “What would cause a lass to give herself pockmarks?”

Glynis jerked her head up and stared at him. Despite the distracting red boils that were easing their way down her face, Alex couldn’t help noticing that she had beautiful gray eyes.

“’Tis unkind to poke fun at a lady’s unfortunate looks,” she said.

It was disconcerting to hear such a lovely voice come out of that alarming face. Alex let his gaze drift over her, taking in the graceful swan neck and the long, slender fingers clenching her wine cup.

“Your secret is safe with me, lass,” Alex said in a low voice. “But I suspect your family already knows it’s a disguise.”

He was hoping for a laugh, but he got none.

“Come,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Tell me why ye did it.”

She took a deep drink from her wine, then said, “So ye wouldn’t want to marry me, of course.”

Alex laughed. “I fear ye went to a good deal of trouble for no purpose, for I have no intention of leaving here with a wife. But does it happen to ye often that men see ye once and want to marry ye?”

“My father says men are fools for beauty, so I couldn’t take the risk.”

The woman said this with utter seriousness. Alex hadn’t been this amused in some time—and he was a man easily amused.

“No matter how lovely ye are beneath the padding and paste,” Alex said, “ye are quite safe from finding wedded bliss with me.”

She searched his face, as if trying to decide if she could believe him. The combination of her sober expression and the globs sliding down her face made it hard not to laugh, but he managed.

“My father was certain your new chieftain would want a marriage between our clans,” she said at last, “to show his goodwill after the trouble caused by the MacDonald pirates.”

“Your father isn’t far wrong,” Alex said. “But my chieftain, who is also my cousin and good friend, knows my feelings about matrimony.”

Alex realized he’d been so caught up in his conversation with this unusual lass that he’d been ignoring her father and the rest of the table. When he turned to join their conversation, however, he found that no one else was speaking. Every member of Glynis’s family was staring at them.

Alex guessed this was the first time Glynis had tried this particular method of thwarting a potential suitor.

Glynis nudged him. When he turned back to her, she nodded toward Duncan, who, as usual, was putting away astonishing quantities of food.

“What about your friend?” she asked in a low voice. “Is he in want of a wife?”

Duncan only wanted one woman. Unfortunately, that particular woman was living in Ireland with her husband.

“No, you’re safe from Duncan as well.”

Glynis dropped her shoulders and closed her eyes, as if he’d just told her that a loved one she’d feared dead had been found alive.

“’Tis a pleasure to talk with a woman who is almost as set against marriage as I am.” Alex lifted his cup to her. “To our escape from that blessèd union.”

Apparently Glynis couldn’t spare him a smile, but she did raise her cup to his.

“How could ye tell my gown was padded?” she asked.

“I pinched your behind.”

Her jaw dropped. “Ye wouldn’t dare.”

“Ach, of course I would,” he said, though he hadn’t. “And ye didn’t feel a thing.”

“How did ye know I didn’t feel it?” she asked.

“Well, it’s like this,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “A pinch earns a man either a slap or a wink, and ye gave me neither.”

Her laugh was all the more lovely for being unexpected.

“Ye are a devil,” she said and poked his arm with her finger.

That long, slender finger made him wonder what the rest of her looked like without the padding. He was a man of considerable imagination.

“Which do ye get more often, a wink or a slap?” she asked.

“’Tis always a wink, lass.”

Glynis laughed again and missed the startled looks her father and sisters gave her.

“Ye are a vain man, to be sure.” She took a drumstick from the platter as she spoke, and Alex realized he hadn’t taken a bite since she sat down.

“It’s just that I know women,” Alex explained, as he took a slab of roasted mutton with his knife. “So I can tell the ones who would welcome a pinch.”

Glynis pointed her drumstick at him. “Ye pinched me, and I didn’t want ye to.”

“Pinching your padding doesn’t count,” Alex said. “You’d wink if I pinched ye, Mistress Glynis. Ye may not know it yet, but I can tell.”

Instead of laughing and calling him vain again, as he’d hoped, her expression turned tense. “I don’t like the way my father looks.”

“How does he look to ye?” Alex asked.

“Hopeful.”

* * *

Alex and Duncan slept on the floor of the hall with a score of snoring MacNeils. At dawn, Alex awoke to the sound of soft footfalls crossing the floor. He rolled to the side and leaped to his feet, leaving his host kicking the empty space where Alex had been lying.

“You’re quick,” the MacNeil said, with an approving nod. “I only meant to wake ye.”

“That could have gotten ye killed,” Alex said, as he slipped his dirk back into his belt. “And then I’d have no end of trouble leaving your fine home.”

Duncan was feigning sleep, but his hand was on the hilt of his dagger. If Alex gave the signal, Duncan would slit their host’s throat, and the two of them would be halfway to their boat before anyone else in the hall knew what had happened.

“Come for a stroll with me,” the MacNeil said. “I’ve something to show ye.”

“I could use some fresh air after all the whiskey ye gave me last night.”

Because it was difficult to discover a man’s true intentions when he was sober, Alex had matched the MacNeil drink for drink far into the night. No doubt his host had the same goal in mind.

“No one forced it down your throat,” the MacNeil said, as they left the hall.

“Ah, but ye knew I am a MacDonald,” Alex said. “We don’t like to lose, whether it be drinking games or battles.”

The MacNeil cocked an eyebrow. “Or women?”

Alex didn’t take the bait. His problem had never been losing women, but finding a graceful way to end it when the time came—which it always did.

Alex followed the MacNeil out the gate and onto the narrow causeway that connected the castle to the main island.

The MacNeil halted and pointed down the beach. “My daughter Glynis is there.”

Alex’s gaze was riveted to the slender figure walking barefoot along the shore with her back to them. Her long hair was blowing in the wind, and every few feet she stopped and leaned over to pick up something from the beach. Ach, she made a lovely sight. Alex had a weakness for a woman who liked to get her feet wet.

“Ye strike me as a curious man,” the MacNeil said. “Don’t ye want to know what she truly looks like?”

Alex did want to know. He narrowed his eyes at the MacNeil. He was more accustomed to having fathers hide their daughters from him. “Are ye not fond of your daughter?”

“Glynis is my only child by my first wife. She’s verra much like her mother, who was as difficult a woman as was ever born.” The MacNeil sighed. “God, how I loved her.”

More proof if Alex needed it—which he didn’t—that love led to misery.

“The other girls are sweet, biddable lasses who will tell their husbands they are wise and clever and always in the right, whether they are or no,” the chieftain continued. “But not Glynis.”

The younger sisters sounded too dull by half.

“I didn’t raise Glynis any different, she just is,” the MacNeil said. “If we were attacked and I was killed, the other girls would weep and wail, helpless creatures that they are. But Glynis would pick up a sword and fight like a she-wolf to protect the others.”

“So why are ye so anxious to see Glynis wed?” Alex asked. She seemed the only one worth keeping to him.

“She and her stepmother are like dry kindling and a lit torch. Glynis needs her own home. She doesn’t like being under the thumb of another woman.”

“Or a man’s,” Alex said. “Judging from what I heard she did to her former husband.”

“Ach, he was a fool to tell the tale,” the MacNeil said with a wave of his hand. “What man with any pride would admit his wife got her blade into his hip? Ye know what she was aiming for, of course.”

Alex winced. He’d had women weep and occasionally toss things at him, but none had ever tried to cut off his manly parts.

But then, Alex had never married.

CHAPTER 3

The pungent smell of low tide filled Alex’s nose as he followed Glynis MacNeil over the barnacled rocks and seaweed along the shore. Each time the wind blew against her skirts and revealed her slender frame, he smiled to himself. She was absorbed in collecting shells and did not appear to hear his approach over the cries of the gulls and the rhythmic crash of the surf.

When she hiked her skirts to create a makeshift basket for her collection, a sigh of appreciation escaped Alex’s throat. He could see no more than slender ankles and a precious few inches of calf, but his gaze slid upward, imagining long, shapely legs.

Glynis paused over a tide pool. Something caught her eye, and she dropped down for a closer look, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her rich brown hair formed a curtain, hiding her face from his view. Would the lass’s face be as alluring as her long, slender body?

It was time to satisfy his curiosity. In a few long strides, he stood over her.

“I see ye found a purple starfish,” Alex said. “That means good luck is coming your way.” He made that up, of course.

When Glynis tipped her head back to look at him, Alex’s heart missed several beats—and then made up for it by hammering in his chest. He’d noticed the beauty of her wide, gray eyes the night before. But in that face, they were arresting.

Her features were a tantalizing mixture of wholesomeness and sensuality, from the sprinkling of delicate freckles across her nose to her full, rosy lips. The unusual combination set off warring urges within him. He had a wild desire to lay her back on the sand and watch those gray eyes glaze with pleasure as he had his wicked way with her. At the same time, he felt an odd urge to protect her.

Alex knew he should reassure her, for he had clearly startled her, but words failed him. This was so unlike him that he wondered for a moment if a fairy had cast a spell upon him.

But then the lass fell backward onto her arse, and he knew she was human.

* * *

The man’s voice startled Glynis, and she looked up with her heart pounding.

She recognized the golden warrior looming above her to be Alex MacDonald, the man she’d spoken to last night. At least, part of her knew that was who he was. But with the glow of sunrise shining all about him, he looked like a Viking marauder come to blazing life out of the old stories her father’s seannachie told.

She could imagine him standing in the prow of his ship with his white-blond hair blowing behind him and carved gold bands encircling his bare, muscled arms. When he fixed green eyes the color of the sea on her, she felt as if something slammed into her chest, and she fell backward.

The shock of cold water jarred her from her trance. Heat flooded her cheeks as she realized she was sitting in a pool of seawater, soaking the back of her skirts to her skin.

“Sorry, lass. I shouldn’t have startled ye like that.” The glint of humor that touched his eyes as he held out his hand should have made him less threatening—but it did not.

Glynis swallowed and gave him her hand, which was gritty with sand. He hoisted her up effortlessly, as if she were as petite as her sisters. Tall as she was, Glynis had to tilt back her head to look into his face. She was vaguely aware that she was staring, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

What was God thinking, allowing a man to be this handsome?

He stood so close that the heat radiating from his body drove the chill right out of her. The humor that had touched his eyes was gone, replaced by something darker that pulled her toward this MacDonald warrior as if an undertow were dragging her out to sea.

“Ye should be more aware of your surroundings, lass,” Alex said, still standing far too close. “I could have been a dangerous man.”

“And ye aren’t one?” she asked.

“Me?” His teeth were white, and his smile had the force of the summer sun on a clear day. “I’m dangerous as sin.”

“My father’s guards can see us from the castle.”

Alex glanced over his shoulder. “I could have ye behind the trees or in my boat before they were out the castle gate.” He paused, eyes glinting. “Especially if ye were willing.”

She rolled her eyes. “No fear of that.”

“Are ye certain?” he asked in a husky voice that resonated somewhere deep in her belly.

Glynis held her breath, unable to move, as Alex lifted his hand to her face. Even though she anticipated his touch, her stomach fluttered when he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. Her gaze dropped to his wide, sensuous mouth, and her throat went dry. This man would know how to give a lass a proper kiss—not like that wretched Magnus Clanranald she’d wed.

She felt herself leaning forward and snapped her head back. “I warn ye, I’ve got a dirk, and I’m no afraid to use it.”

“So I’ve heard, but ye won’t need your dirk,” Alex said. “I like my women willing.”

And she’d wager there were plenty of those.

“You’ve nothing to fear,” he said. “I never harm women.”

“If ye don’t count breaking their hearts.”

Glynis didn’t know what made her blurt out the words. But he stiffened, and she saw the truth reflected in his eyes. Alex MacDonald had broken hearts, but he didn’t glory in it. Nay, it pained him.

Of course, that only added to his appeal. A heartless man would be easier to resist.

“You’re safe from me.” Alex gave her a wink, and she could almost see him pull on his charming mask. “I don’t dally with women who are looking for husbands.”

“I’m no looking for a husband.” Her cheeks grew warm as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I didn’t mean I wish to d… d…” Try as she might, she could not get the word dally to cross her lips.

“I can’t say the same.” He gave her a devilish grin that sent hot darts of awareness across her skin. “But even if ye aren’t looking for a husband, your father is, and that amounts to the same thing. Besides, ye deserve better than me.”

“I do,” she snapped. “God save me from another handsome philanderer.”

Something flickered in his eyes before the smiling mask dropped into place again. It was a blindingly handsome mask, but Glynis found herself wondering about the part of Alexander MacDonald that he hid from the world.

She felt guilty for being sharp with him, when the man had done nothing more than tease her, so she asked, “Do ye want to see my favorite spot?”

“It might be more fun to let me find it myself,” he said.

Her breath caught as his eyes traveled over her slowly from head to toe.

“I meant on the beach!” She punched his arm, and it was like hitting iron. “Ach, ye are the worst rogue I’ve ever met.”

He laughed and took her hand. “Lead me where ye will, fair lady.”

Alex’s hand was big and warm around hers. She’d never walked hand in hand with a man before, and she felt a wee bit wicked for it—in a good sort of way.

She took him to the far end of the bay.

“The seals like to gather here.” She pointed to a huge, flat rock that jutted out of the water a few yards offshore.

They found a dry, sandy area high on the beach and sat down. As she removed her hand from his, her gaze slid over his arm, taking in the golden hairs against his tanned skin. Alex stretched out his long, muscular legs, which were covered with the same golden hair.

“Ye should lie on your stomach,” he said, “so the sun can dry the back of your gown.”

Glynis was tempted. Her stepmother was bound to make unpleasant remarks about Glynis’s slovenly ways if she returned to the castle with her gown soaked. But she couldn’t very well lie down when she was alone with a man.

“I wouldn’t want your father to think I had ye on your back in the sand,” Alex said. “We’d be wed before noon.”

Glynis flopped down on her stomach and leaned on her elbows. They watched in companionable silence as several seals hauled themselves out of the sea to nap on the flat rock.

Alex nudged her with his knee. “What other tricks have ye used to drive away potential husbands?”

“I tell them I’m barren.” She kept her voice flat to cover how much this hurt. “That’s sufficient to discourage most of them.”

“Ye can’t know that for certain, can ye?” Alex asked. “You’re young yet.”

Glynis shrugged. Since she was never going to marry again, it was of no consequence.

“What about the men who already have heirs?” he asked. “How do ye discourage them?”

“I’ve rubbed onions on my clothes and chewed garlic.” She sighed. “If that isn’t enough, I say I dreamed I was wearing widow’s clothes on my next birthday.”

Alex’s laugh rumbled deep in his throat. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound.

“Are ye the one who started the story about stabbing your husband?” he asked.

“I fear that one is true,” she said. “I do find it useful.”

This time, his laughter roused two or three seals, who lifted their heads to look at them before resuming their slumber.

“I doubt your father is trying to marry ye off to make ye suffer,” Alex said. “He needs alliances, just as my chieftain does.”

“And the wrong alliances will bring disaster,” Glynis said. “I told my father not to join this rebellion, but, of course, he wouldn’t listen to me.”

Half the clans in the Western Isles had risen against the Scottish Crown in yet another doomed rebellion.

“The rebellion will fail eventually,” Alex said. “But until it does, any clan that takes the side of the Crown risks being attacked by its neighbors.”

“’Tis clever of your chieftain to let each side court him,” she said.

“Court him?” Alex said. “Connor feels like he’s straddling two sea monsters, while each tries to snap his head off and dump him into the sea.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his colorful description, but she was worried about her clan. “You’re lucky to be a man. Ye can serve your clan without being bought and sold like a cow.”

“I’ve never met a woman with such a low opinion of marriage,” Alex said, then he added something under his breath that sounded very much like “except for my mother.”

“I’d do anything for my clan but wed,” Glynis said.

“Since we are of one mind on that,” Alex said, “we can be friends, aye?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Do ye mean it?”

“Usually I become friends with women after I bed them,” he said. “But I’ll make an exception for ye.”

“Ye are teasing me again,” she said.

“Ye are so serious, I can’t help myself,” Alex said in a soft voice. “But if we should meet again, ye can trust me to be a friend.”

Glynis met his sea-green eyes. “Then I’ll be your friend as well, Alex MacDonald.”

When she shifted her gaze back to the seals, several of them lifted their heads. Then, one by one, they began slipping into the water.

“Get up,” Alex said with steel in his voice.

Before she could move, his hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her to her feet.

“Damn,” Alex said between his teeth, as a war galley glided around the point of the bay.

“They could be friendly,” Glynis said, but her heart was pounding hard in her chest.

“That’s Hugh MacDonald’s ship,” Alex said, his gaze fixed on it. “We’ll try to outrun them and get back to the castle.”

Alex grabbed her hand, and they flew over the sand and rocks. The pirate galley must have been spotted in the castle as well. Across the small bay, two dozen men poured over the causeway from the castle. The pirates were sailing for the beach midway between them and the castle in an attempt to cut them off before her father’s men could reach them.

It looked as if the pirates would succeed. Though her bare feet were cut and bleeding from the barnacles, Glynis ran faster and faster. But the castle guards were too far away—and the pirates too close.

The guards were still a hundred yards away when the pirate’s boat grounded. Glynis jerked to a halt and watched in horror as men dropped over the side of the ship and started splashing toward shore.

Alex lifted her onto a high rock.

“Stay here so I know where ye are,” he ordered. “I won’t let them get to ye.”

As Alex turned from her, he reached behind him for his claymore, and the steel of his blade whistled through the air. His battle cry “Fraoch!” thundered in her ears as he ran straight at the pirates coming toward them through the surf.

Without breaking his stride, Alex cut down the first two men. As he leaped over the blade of a third, he swung his claymore into the man’s side.

Glynis screamed as another pirate charged Alex before he could recover from his last swing with the big, two-handed sword. With flowing movements, Alex released one hand from his claymore, pulled his dirk from his belt, and plunged it into the man’s chest. His attacker sank to his knees with a cry, and his blood colored the water around him in rusty clouds.

Alex glanced over his shoulder at her as if to be sure none of the pirates had gotten past him. His eyes were murderous, and his every muscle taut and ready.

This was not the laughing man who sat beside Glynis watching seals a short time ago. Nay, this Alexander Bàn MacDonald was every inch a fearsome Highland warrior—and he was magnificent to behold.

Her father’s men were running the last few yards to join the fight, with Duncan MacDonald in the lead. The two groups crashed together with shouts and grunts and swords clanging.

Glynis could not take her eyes off the two MacDonald men. Despite the pirates’ greater number, the pair were lethal. They forced the pirates back, and back again, under a unified and ferocious assault. Although her father’s men fought well, they fought individually. The MacDonald warriors fought as a merciless unit.

Their violence had a grace and control that bespoke years of practice. After a time, she could catch some of the silent signals between them. You take this one, I’ll take that one. The pirates fell before them, one after another.

Something drew her attention from the fierce battle raging on the beach to the pirate ship. A man stood alone in the prow with his arms folded across his broad chest. He was staring at her. As their eyes locked across the distance, a cold shiver went up her spine.

She sensed this man meant her harm—and not just the harm he meant to anyone who crossed his path. She didn’t know why, but she felt as if he was fixing her in his mind, as if he had a particular, evil plan for her.

With his eyes still on her, the man put his fingers to his mouth and made a piercing whistle. The pirates on the beach ran to the boat and scrambled up the sides like rats.

Alex ran after them into the surf until he stood in water to his waist.

“Hugh Dubh MacDonald,” he shouted, waving his claymore in the air. “Come back and fight, ye miserable coward!”

“Tell my nephew I’ll see him dead,” the man in the prow shouted back. He ducked just as Alex’s dirk sailed through the air where his head had been.

While her father’s men congratulated themselves on their success in driving the pirates off and Duncan cleaned his sword, Alex stood in the water raining curses on the departing ship. Finally, Alex turned and strode through the surf toward the beach with the sun glinting on his hair and fire burning in his eyes.

“’Tis safe to go to the castle now, Mistress Glynis,” one of her father’s men said. “Let me help ye down.”

As the man reached up to grasp her about the waist, Alex’s shout stopped him.

“Take your hands off her!”

The guard jumped back and stared at Alex. Glynis’s heart was in her throat as Alex stormed up the beach dripping water and blood, looking like his Viking ancestors who once terrorized these coasts. His eyes bored into her as if no one else existed.

When Alex reached her, he clamped his hands around her waist and lifted her off the rock. His eyes never left her face as he slid her down his body, every inch of her rubbing against the scorching heat of his muscular frame. Glynis’s knees were weak before her feet touched the ground.

Alex’s eyes had a wild fierceness and a hunger that sent her pulse racing.

“Aye,” she whispered and held on as he leaned her backward.

* * *

Battle lust throbbed in Alex’s veins and left him hard. When he turned and saw Glynis on the rock, he would have killed to have her. He had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Glynis MacNeil right now.

From the moment their bodies touched, he felt as if it had been ordained that they should join. Her body melded to his as if she had been made for him alone. Alex kissed her with all the lust pounding through him, his tongue thrusting, possessing. He had to have her.

He heard Duncan call his name through the haze of lust, but he didn’t give a damn. Nothing mattered but this woman’s sweet mouth on his. She was a wonder under his hands, responding with an awakening passion that had him yearning to lie her down and take her on the sand.

The sharp prick of a steel point in the middle of his back was a bit harder to ignore than Duncan.

“I appreciate ye saving my daughter from your miserable pirate relations,” the MacNeil said close to Alex’s ear. “But unless ye want to leave here with a wife, you’d best release her now.”

Alex wanted her so much that he could almost have agreed to a life in chains just to have her this once. But when Glynis’s eyes went wide with panic, he came to his senses. Slowly, he straightened and forced himself to release her.

Glynis swayed on her feet, as if her legs might not hold her. When Alex started to reach for her, her father gave him a quelling look and put a firm arm around her shoulders.

Alex glanced left and right, taking in the circle of men around them. What madness had taken hold of him to kiss the chieftain’s daughter—and to kiss her like that—in front of all of her father’s warriors? Alex hadn’t given a thought to the other men on the beach. Nay, he hadn’t even seen them.

Stealing a kiss from a willing lass was no grave offense, so the MacNeil probably wouldn’t kill him. On the other hand, his timing was verra poor, and any fool could see that he hadn’t meant to stop with the kiss.

“What do ye have to say for yourself, Alex Bàn MacDonald?” the MacNeil chieftain demanded.

“If I said I was sorry for kissing your daughter, we’d both know I was lying,” Alex said. Then he turned to Glynis, who looked as dazed as he felt. “I am sorry, lass, if I embarrassed ye.”

Alex wished he could speak with her without all the others watching, so he could ask her if she was all right. But if he did have Glynis MacNeil alone now, he knew damned well they wouldn’t waste the opportunity talking.

CHAPTER 4

DUNSCAITH CASTLE, ISLE OF SKYE

TWO MONTHS LATER

Alex waved to his cousin, the chieftain of the MacDonalds of Sleat, who was making his way down to the shore from Dunscaith Castle to meet him. Connor’s shoulder-length black hair blew behind him as he jumped from rock to rock.

“Have ye started to regret taking the chieftainship yet?” Alex asked, as Connor helped haul the boat up onto the beach.

“Every day,” Connor said with a dry laugh. “How do our clansmen on North Uist fare?”

“They’ve lost a good deal to the raiders, but they won’t starve,” Alex said. “The fishing is good, and the other supplies I delivered should see them through until the next harvest.”

After climbing up the hill, he and Connor crossed the narrow bridge to the castle, which was built on a rock off the headland.

“Ian and Duncan are here as well,” Connor said. “We have clan business to discuss.”

Inside, the hall had clean rushes, and the servants were sober. This was a far cry from the condition the castle had been in when they took it from Connor’s uncle Hugh. The cleanliness and order were the work of Duncan’s sister, Ilysa. Though they weren’t actually related, Ilysa was the closest thing Connor had to a female relative to perform the castle duties in place of a wife.

Their cousin Ian, who looked so much like Connor they could pass as brothers, was sitting at the chieftain’s high table with Duncan.

“Ian, ye look like shite,” Alex greeted him.

Ian grinned. “The twins are keeping Sìleas and me up most nights. They’re getting more new teeth.”

Ach, no. The last time Alex had seen Ian’s bairns, one of them crawled up his leg, sank her teeth into his knee, and held on like a limpet.

“’Tis only the start of the trouble those pretty babes are going to cause ye,” Alex said. “Ye know that, don’t ye?”

“I do,” Ian said with a weary smile. “They are beauties, aren’t they?”

The thought of raising daughters gave Alex the shudders, but Ian’s eyes shone when he spoke of his wee, red-haired devils.

At Connor’s signal, the other men in the hall moved away to allow the four of them to speak in private. Connor had a formal council of senior clansmen, as was expected, but everyone knew that Ian, Alex, and Duncan were his closest advisers.

“We need to forge strong alliances to survive these troubled times,” Connor said, taking the seat across the table from Alex. “Our clan is still weak after losing my father and so many other men at the Battle of Flodden.”

The four of them had been in France when they received the news of the Scots’ disastrous loss to Henry VIII’s forces at Flodden. They had returned home to find their king and their chieftain among the dead and their clan in a dire state.

“We succeeded in throwing Hugh out of the chieftain’s castle,” Alex said.

He did not mention that Connor’s uncle was still a source of dissention within the clan. Some of their clansmen mistook Hugh’s brutality for strength and, if given the chance, would support him as chieftain.

“We have much to do yet,” Connor said, his voice hard. “We cannot rest until we have control over all of the lands that rightfully belong to our clan.”

“Aye!” Duncan said, and they all raised their cups.

They had secured their base here on the Isle of Skye, with Connor holding Dunscaith Castle on one side of the Sleat Peninsula and Ian holding Knock Castle on the other. It pained them all, however, that the MacLeods had stolen the Trotternish Peninsula while the four of them were still in France. And now, Hugh and his pirates were ravaging their lands on the island of North Uist.

“We don’t yet have the strength to fight the MacLeods for the rest of our lands here on Skye,” Ian said. “That will be a bloody battle when it comes.”

“Our first task should be to protect our kin on North Uist,” Alex said. “Our clansmen there live at the mercy of these pirates.” Seeing how his kinsmen were preyed upon had eaten a hole in his stomach.

“I agree,” Connor said. “Before the fall harvest, I want one of ye to rebuild our castle on North Uist and remain there to protect our clansmen.”

“It’s high time we took on your marauding uncles.” Alex had a burning desire to strangle Hugh with his bare hands for taking food out of the mouths of his own kinsmen. “Give me a few warriors, and I’ll set sail in the morning.”

“If it weren’t for this damned rebellion, I’d send ye now,” Connor said, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, we have other business that can’t wait.”

“What’s happened?” Duncan asked.

“The new regent has summoned me to court in Edinburgh,” Connor said.

When the Scottish king was killed at Flodden, he left a babe as his heir, and the court factions had been fighting for control ever since. The king’s widow, who was also the sister of the hated Henry VIII, was regent for a time. But when the queen remarried, the Council had called John Stewart, the Duke of Albany, from France to take her place.

“Albany wants to see the new chieftain of the MacDonalds of Sleat bend his knee and swear allegiance to the Crown,” Ian said.

“Ach, no, ye can’t go,” Duncan said. “Ye know how many times a Highland chieftain has obeyed a summons to court and ended up dead or imprisoned.”

“We can’t risk losing ye,” Ian said.

They were not just speaking out of affection for Connor. By tradition, their chieftain must be a man who had the chieftain’s family blood in his veins. Ian and Alex were related to Connor through their mothers so they couldn’t replace him—praise God. The only men still alive who could be chieftain besides Connor were his half uncles, and their clan would not survive under the leadership of one of them.

“Aye, but if I don’t go, Albany will believe I’ve joined the rebellion.” Connor heaved a deep sigh. “’Tis getting harder and harder to stay out of this fight between the rebel clans and the Crown, though I see no gain for our clan either way.”

“Send one of us in your place,” Ian said. “Whoever goes can concoct an excuse why ye can’t make the long journey to Edinburgh at this time and appease the regent with vague assurances of your goodwill.”

Ian was almost as conniving as Connor.

“The man who goes will risk being held hostage by the Crown,” Alex said, “but it’s a good plan.”

“The rebels are also pressing me to choose sides,” Connor said. “There is a gathering of the rebel clans at the Maclean stronghold. If I’m not there, we could face attack by the neighboring clans who support the rebellion. The MacLeods, for one, would be happy for an excuse to try to take more of our lands.”

“Again, send one of us,” Ian said. “We must straddle the two sides for as long as we can.”

“Which brings me back to our need for alliances,” Connor said, looking directly at Alex. “Marriage alliances.”

“No,” Alex said, meeting his cousin’s gaze. “Ye will not ask that of me.”

Connor rubbed his hand over his face. He looked even more tired than Ian, and considerably less happy.

“What I propose is that Alex wed a lass whose clan is on one side of the rebellion,” Connor said, “and Duncan wed a lass whose clan is on the other side.”

Duncan gave Connor a sideways glance that could freeze a loch.

“Thought ye were safe from his schemes, did ye, Duncan?” Alex said.

“No chieftain will want me for his daughter,” Duncan said to Connor. “I’m just your former nursemaid’s son.”

“You’re the captain of my guard and as close as a brother to me,” Connor said. “You’ll make a good catch for a chieftain with daughters to marry off.”

Duncan looked into his cup and didn’t argue, but he would be as obstinate as Alex in this.

“Ye will marry sooner or later, as all men do,” Connor said, as he refilled Alex’s and Duncan’s cups with more whiskey. “I’m merely suggesting ye do it sooner.”

“I won’t do it,” Alex said in a hard voice. “Not now. Not ever.”

“We need allies,” Connor repeated.

“Then I’ll look for a wife for you,” Alex said.

If anyone needed a woman to stir his blood, it was Connor. He hadn’t touched one since he’d become chieftain.

“I’m even willing to take the chieftains’ daughters to bed,” Alex said, “just so I can tell ye which one is dull enough for ye.”

“If I take a wife, it would be interpreted as choosing sides in the rebellion,” Connor said, “and I’m no ready to do that.”

Damn, but Connor was hard to ruffle these days.

“I see,” Alex said. “Ye are the prize to be dangled before them all until the last possible moment.”

Connor sighed. “All I’m asking is that ye meet the daughters of these chieftains and see if there is one to your liking.”

“We’ve made up a list of women for ye to consider,” Ian said, pulling out a sheet of parchment and spreading it on the table.

“What?”Alex said.

“As ye can see, we’ve given ye plenty to choose from,” Ian said. “I’ve divided them into those for and against the rebellion.”

“We left out the Campbells because an earl’s daughter seemed beyond our reach,” Connor said, his eyes twinkling. “But if ye can enchant one, I’ll no complain.”

Alex refilled his cup, wondering when this would be over.

“I want both of ye to go to the rebel gathering at Duart Castle on Mull,” Connor said. “From there, one of ye can go on to Edinburgh to see the regent.”

“Should be a pleasant time at Duart Castle, consorting with rebels and a host who tried to murder us,” Alex said, and they all laughed.

Connor tapped his finger on the parchment. “While ye are at the rebel gathering, ye can meet some of the prospective brides on my list.”

Connor shoved the list across the table toward Duncan and Alex. Neither of them would take it, but the names were plain enough to see.

“Ahh, McNeil’s eldest daughter is at the top of the list,” Duncan said.

“Alex, I understand ye showed considerable interest in the lass,” Connor said. “Kissing her in front of her father and clansmen.”

Alex glared at Duncan. “Traitor.”

“Shall I send a message to her father?” Connor asked with a wicked glint in his eye.

“The kiss meant nothing,” Alex protested. “Ye know I have a weakness for pretty lasses. I forgot myself for a moment, that’s all it was.”

Duncan took a slow drink and set down his cup “’Twas a rather long moment, Alex.”

Alex couldn’t help joining in the laughter. But he was thinking that the kiss had not been nearly long enough.

“I almost forgot, Alex,” Connor said, reaching inside his shirt. “Father Brian was here, and he brought a letter for ye.”

CHAPTER 5

Who would write me a letter?” Alex asked. Anyone who wished to speak to him could just get in his boat and come find him.

“Looks like it’s been through many hands to get here,” Connor said, holding out the battered parchment. “Do ye recognize the seal?”

As he studied the rose seal, vague recollections of France, perfumed messages, and assignations flitted through Alex’s head. He sniffed the letter. The faintest hint of lavender remained.

Alex broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The loopy French script tugged at his memory. This time, the image of perfect, full breasts came into his mind.

“How long are ye going to keep us waiting?” Connor asked.

“Just savoring the moment,” Alex said. “Do ye remember Sabine de Savoisy, that countess who took me to her bed soon after we arrived in France?”

“Ye cannot expect me to remember all your women,” Connor said. “I can’t count that high, let alone recall their names.”

“There was only one countess. Ye must remember Sabine—she had the enormous house outside Paris.”

Connor nodded. “And lovely breasts.”

It was unlike Connor to speak crudely in front of a woman, but he didn’t appear to notice that Ilysa was standing nearby.

“So ye do remember Sabine.” Alex looked at the date at the top of the letter. The 10th of May in the year of our Lord 1515. “It took a long time to get here.”

The four of them had almost no secrets, so Alex began reading aloud.

I am in Edinburgh visiting the French Ambassador’s wife. Such miserable, damp weather you have here and so little entertainment. I am bored beyond reason and would welcome a visit from you.

“The woman must have a vivid memory,” Ian said, “to ask ye to make such a long journey for a tumble.”

“Good as I am,” Alex said, tapping the edge of the letter against the table, “I suspect Sabine could find a man in Edinburgh if that were her only purpose. No, she has some other reason for wanting me there.”

I shall languish in this dreadful city through the month of July. Have mercy on me and come quickly. Your friend D’Arcy is here, adding to the tedium.

They had fought with D’Arcy in France.

“D’Arcy has close ties to Albany,” Connor said.

So did Sabine, but Alex kept that to himself. He took a sip of his whiskey and then read the rest of the missive.

I have a special gift for you. I know how you like surprises so do come. I promise you will regret it if you do not.

S

Alex set his cup down and read the letter through twice more to himself. The message was veiled, the signature indeterminate, and the seal not her official one. But then, the countess was always careful.

“Do ye have any notion what this ‘special gift’ might be?” Connor asked, reading over his shoulder. “Other than the obvious.”

Alex shook his head. “No, but I’ll go to Edinburgh for ye and find out.”

“Ye should take the letter to Teàrlag,” Ilysa said.

Connor started at the sound of her voice. “Forgive me, Ilysa, I didn’t see ye there,” he said. “What do ye say, Alex? It can’t hurt to show the letter to the old seer.”

* * *

The wind whipped Connor’s hair as he adjusted the sail. “It feels good to be out on the water.”

“Ye should get out sailing more often.” Alex was concerned about his cousin. The weight of his responsibilities showed in the lines of weariness on his face.

It was a short sail to the seer’s cottage, which sat on a ledge between the mountains and the sea. The four of them had done it countless times as lads, but today, it was just Alex, Connor, and Ilysa in the boat. Duncan had gone with Ian to visit Sìleas and the babes—despite Alex’s warning that the twins were biters. Brave man.

“How is it that you have Shaggy’s boat and not me?” Connor asked.

“Because I love her best,” Alex said, patting the rail.

Connor laughed, a welcome sound. Ilysa, who fretted about Connor more than anyone, gave Alex a grateful look.

A short time later, they pulled the boat into the cove below Teàrlag’s house and climbed the slippery steps cut into the stone cliff. Teàrlag was waiting for them outside her cottage. Despite the mildness of the early summer day, she was hunched over with two shawls wrapped around her, as if facing a bracing wind.

“I saw ye coming,” she said, by way of greeting.

With her one good eye, Teàrlag couldn’t see much in the usual sense, but she was a seer of great repute. Most folk avoided her, for she had an unnerving proclivity for predicting death.

They went inside, and Ilysa unloaded the basket of food she’d brought while Alex and Connor sat down with Teàrlag at her tiny table.

“Hush, they’ll be gone soon,” Teàrlag said to her cow, who was mooing in complaint on the other side of the half wall that divided the cottage. “Ilysa, get my whiskey. ’Tis no every day I have a visit from our chieftain.”

“We need your help with a letter,” Connor said after they’d downed their drinks.

Alex unfolded the parchment and held it flat on the table. Of course, the seer couldn’t read, but that wasn’t the point of bringing it.

“It’s from a woman who says she has a special gift for me,” Alex said. “Can ye tell me what it might be?”

Teàrlag cackled. “A special gift? Is that what they call it now?”

Ach, even the old seer had to joke.

Ilysa helped Teàrlag to the hearth, took a small bowl of herbs from the shelf, and tossed a pinch onto the fire. After breathing deeply from the burst of pungent smoke, the old seer shuffled back to her stool and placed her hands on the letter.

“I see three women, Alex Bàn MacDonald,” she said in a far-off voice.

Only three? Alex hardly needed a seer to tell him there were women in his future. In fact, Teàrlag had been seeing women in his future since he was twelve.

“On your journey, three women will call on ye for help, and ye must give it,” she said. “But beware! One brings danger and another deceit.”

Alex rarely refused a woman anything, so this did not concern him. And a little danger and deceit just made things interesting.

“What about the third lass?” he asked.

“Ach.” Tearlag gave him a sour look. “One has the power to fulfill your deepest desires.”

Alex grinned. “Danger, deceit, and deep desires—I’m looking forward to this journey.”

Teàrlag closed her eyes and rocked side to side, making a strange humming sound. Alex often wondered how much of Teàrlag’s performance was for show.

“Ye are a sinner, Alexander Bàn,” she called out. “And the time will come soon when ye will pay for your sins.”

Teàrlag was not the first to make this particular prediction. Alex was almost certain she was merely lecturing him now, as she had since he was a lad.

“What about the gift?” Connor asked.

Teàrlag was silent for so long that Alex thought she might have gone to sleep.

“I see brightness, like a moonbeam,” Teàrlag said, waving her hand in front of her face.

Alex snorted. A moonbeam. Ach, that would be a useful gift. Now, if it was a sword, well, a man could always use another good sword.

“’Tis no a sword,” Teàrlag said, snapping her eyes open. “This is an important gift, and ye must fetch it. Now go!”

They left Ilysa with Teàrlag, who was teaching her the old remedies. Duncan had forbidden his sister from training with the old seer, but Ilysa was one of the few creatures on God’s earth who was not intimidated by him.

“That was even stranger than usual,” Alex said, as soon as they were outside the cottage. “But I hope ye noticed that Teàrlag did not foresee a marriage for me.”

“I want Duncan looking for a wife as well while ye are at the rebel gathering,” Connor said, undeterred.

“He won’t,” Alex said. “Duncan still loves your sister.”

“Moira’s married,” Connor said. “’Tis time Duncan forgot her and found a wife.”

“He won’t.”

“We shall all do what we must to protect the clan,” Connor said.

Connor was sounding more like a chieftain all the time.

“And Alex, ye have a bad habit of attracting women ye shouldn’t,” Connor said. “Try not to make us any new enemies while you’re gone—we have enough to spare already.”

CHAPTER 6

DUART CASTLE, ISLE OF MULL

Glynis pulled the hood of her cloak low over her face as she and her father entered the castle’s courtyard, which was already crowded with guests. The MacNeils of Barra and the Macleans of Duart had a long friendship, and she had been to Duart Castle many times. But this was her first large clan gathering since the end of her marriage.

When the Maclean chieftain saw her father, he broke away from his other guests to greet them. “Chieftain MacNeil, I welcome ye once again to my home.”

Not many people made Glynis uneasy, but Lachlan Cattanach Maclean, otherwise known as Shaggy, was one. She was accustomed to fierce warriors, but Shaggy was unpredictable. In truth, she thought him a little mad.

“I had to leave my wife at home, as she is with child,” Glynis’s father said.

“A wife who does her duty by providing her husband with children,” Shaggy said, “is the only kind of wife worth keeping.”

Glynis wasn’t sure if Shaggy meant to insult her or his current wife, Catherine Campbell.

“As ye can see, I brought Glynis instead,” her father said. “I’m hoping to find her a new husband.”

Glynis ducked her head still lower, though what she wanted to do was kick her father.

“Your daughter has grown shy,” Shaggy said.

Her father coughed.

“Not beating up the lads like ye used to?” Shaggy said to her. “Just stabbing them, aye?”

“Only when provoked,” she murmured while Shaggy laughed, and her father rammed his elbow into her side.

“If my wife, the earl’s daughter,” Shaggy said with sarcasm so heavy it scraped the floor, “would lower herself to greet my guests, I’m sure she would show ye the chamber set aside for the visiting lasses.”

“Glynis can find it,” her father said. “We’ll visit with the other guests in the hall first.”

Glynis had barely set foot in Duart Castle, and already she was counting the hours until they left. Once inside the keep, they stood at the entrance to the hall surveying the noisy room. Many clans were represented, judging by the number of men dressed in the saffron shirts and fine wool plaids of highborn clansmen.

“The young chieftain of the MacDonalds of Sleat is an elusive man,” her father said, his voice rasping with displeasure. “It doesn’t appear he has come.”

“You shouldn’t have either, da,” Glynis said. “Joining this rebellion was a mistake, and ye should quit it now.”

“Did I ask your advice, daughter? These are no matters for women to decide.”

“Please, da,” Glynis said, and pulled at his arm. “Don’t agree to do anything more.”

Preventing her father from becoming more deeply involved in this rebellion was the sole reason she’d agreed to come to the gathering without being bound and gagged.

“Your chances of catching a chieftain are poor now,” her father said, his eyes traveling the room. “If ye had proven yourself a good breeder, it might be different.”

Glynis told herself that her father didn’t realize how his harping on her failure to conceive was like a blade in her heart. It was the only way she could forgive him for it.

“Remember,” he said, “‘Honey may be sweet, but no one licks it off a briar.’”

Glynis sucked in her breath.

“What is it?” her father asked.

Her hands shook as she smoothed her skirts and tried to gather herself. Her former husband, Magnus Clanranald, the man who had humiliated and shamed her, was in the hall. She hadn’t laid eyes on him since the night she left him. As usual, Magnus was giving his full attention to the breasts of a buxom lass who was on his lap.

“I didn’t know Magnus would be here,” her father said, following her gaze.

Her face burned, and her eyes stung. She should have stuck her blade into Magnus’s black heart when she had the chance.

“I don’t believe ye,” she said. “Ye knew damned well Magnus would be here.”

Glynis turned and bolted out of the keep.

* * *

“How did Connor convince us to visit Shaggy Maclean?” Alex eyed Duart Castle looming ahead of them on a rock cliff.

Duncan was playing his whistle and didn’t trouble himself to respond. It was a sad tune, of course.

“I hope the accommodations are better than on our previous visit,” Alex said. The last time they were at Shaggy Maclean’s castle, they were prisoners in his dungeon.

Duncan tucked his whistle inside his shirt. “Then keep your distance from Shaggy’s wife this time.”

“Ye can’t blame that on me,” Alex said. “She took advantage of me when I was weak from the beating they gave me. I hadn’t the strength to resist her.”

“Ye never have the strength to resist a willing lass.”

“Willing? I thought the woman would eat the meat off my bones,” Alex said. “And ye owe me thanks, for she did help us escape Shaggy’s dungeon.”

“We would have found another way out,” Duncan said. “We always do.”

“Shaggy’s wife is a Campbell,” Alex said to annoy Duncan. “I should do my part to bring us closer to such a powerful clan.”

Shaggy had wed the Campbell chieftain’s sister in a bid to bring peace between their clans. The two hated each other, however, which just went to show that marriage was a poor basis for forming an alliance.

That made Alex think of Glynis MacNeil’s disastrous marriage. In truth, he thought of Glynis surprisingly often. She was a damned intriguing woman, though not his sort at all. He liked women with easy natures—and easier virtue.

“Why don’t ye just get a mistress like a normal man?” Duncan asked.

Alex made a face. “Ach, no. A mistress can become too much like a wife.”

He had seen that happen too many times. As a lad, it was always his shoulder they wept on when his father sent them away. Alex used to warn the women, but it was no use. After a few months, they always expected a permanent arrangement of one kind or another.

“At least I like the women I bed. I even talk to them—something ye might try,” Alex said. “Do ye ever speak to your mistress, other than to say ‘pass the fish’ and ‘take your clothes off’?”

“Time to lower the sails, lads,” Duncan called out to the other men. “Take an oar.”

Unfortunately, they couldn’t arrive at Shaggy’s in the boat they stole from him, so they were sailing one of the war galleys. Though it was large enough to carry fifty warriors, Connor had been able to spare only the eighteen needed to man the oars.

“I expect Rhona believes that behind all that silence you’re thinking deep thoughts about her,” Alex said, as he leaned on the rudder. “You’ve had her in your bed for months, and yet ye wouldn’t care if she left tomorrow, would ye?”

“I don’t mind her.” Duncan shrugged. “We meet each other’s needs, and she doesn’t cause a fuss like your women do.”

“Meet each other’s needs.” Alex snorted. “That sounds like a fine time.”

“Rest your oars,” Duncan called out, and they glided into shore below the castle.

* * *

Alex was already bored listening to the men who were gathered in the castle courtyard. As always, there was a lot of pointless talk about returning to the glory days when half the Highlands answered to the Lord of the Isles, rather than to the King of Scotland.

For a hundred and fifty years, the Lord of the Isles had been the leader of all the branches of the Clan MacDonald and their vassals, which had included the Macleans, the MacLeods, the MacNeils, and the rest. Under the Lordship, the clans had followed old Celtic law and customs. That part had not changed much—they still ignored Scottish law and directives from the church in Rome, except when convenient.

But it had been more than twenty years since the Lord of the Isles had been forced to submit to the crown. Without a single leader, the clans fought among themselves all the time. That did not, however, keep them from rising against the Crown again and again.

“We’ll burn Inverness!” one young man shouted, clenching his fist in the air.

“Not again.” Alex sighed and turned to Duncan. “How many times has Inverness been burned?”

“Some men are practicing in the field behind the castle,” Duncan said. “Since we may fight these rebels one day, let’s see how good they are.”

As Alex and Duncan entered the field, the men halted their practice. Twenty pairs of hostile eyes fixed upon them.

“What are the MacDonalds of Sleat doing here?” one man said loud enough for all to hear. He was a MacLeod warrior with a long scar down the side of his face.

“We’re not your enemies,” Alex said.

“Then why has your clan not joined the rebellion?” another man asked.

“Because we’re just brimming with goodwill to all,” Alex said, spreading his arms out.

Most of the men laughed and that might have been an end to it, if not for a young man with a weedy beard and weasel eyes.

“I say the MacDonalds of Sleat refuse to join us because they are poor fighters.” The man paused, then added, “Or else they are just cowards.”

“That’s it,” Duncan said, as he unsheathed his claymore. “Who’s first?”

“I’ll fight ye,” the same fool said, and stepped forward to meet Duncan.

“Who’s next?” Alex whipped out his sword—he couldn’t let Duncan defend the honor of the clan alone. “How about you with the ugly face?”

As Alex fought the MacLeod warrior, he watched the other fight out of the corner of his eye. Duncan fought with his usual cool control. His opponent was red-faced and cursing as he fell back, again and again, under the pounding assault of Duncan’s claymore. In no time, the man was flat on his back with Duncan’s foot on his chest and the point of Duncan’s sword just beneath his weedy beard.

After Alex and Duncan defeated three or four opponents each, tempers cooled, and the other men resumed their practice as if nothing had occurred.

“That felt good,” Alex said, as he and Duncan rested against the castle wall. They watched the others, commenting in low voices on their skill or lack of it.

But then Alex’s attention was caught by a woman who came out of the castle gate. She made an abrupt turn and walked toward them at a furious pace with her head down.

“Is that Glynis MacNeil?” Duncan asked.

“Aye. What in the hell is she doing out here alone?” There were other women at the gathering, but they had the sense to stay inside the keep or stick close to their men.

Alex caught her arm as she charged past him.

“Ye can’t go—” The words dried in his mouth. He’d forgotten what an impact her face had on him. He tried telling himself that she wasn’t any more beautiful than a hundred women he knew—but there was something about her that stole his thoughts away.

Glynis was staring right back at him with her luminous gray eyes. Though he knew it was a mistake, he let his gaze drop to her mouth. Her lips were parted. The memory of that kiss on the beach sang through his body, bringing everything to full attention.

Alex gave himself a mental shake. He couldn’t let that happen again.

“You look upset,” Alex said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” But then she glanced back toward the gate, and the color drained from her face.

A heavily muscled warrior with a full black beard and black eyes to match had just come into the field. He had his claymore strapped to his back and looked as if he meant to join the practice. But when his gaze fell on Glynis, he stopped in place. The tension running between the two of them was as palpable as a taut rope holding a sail in a storm.

“Who is he?” Alex asked.

“The chieftain of Clanranald,” she said so low he could barely hear her. “Magnus, my former husband.”

“He looks as if he harbors a grudge against ye,” Alex said.

“He would have preferred I left our marriage for the grave.”

“You!” Magnus roared, as he pulled his claymore from his back.

“Take her.” Alex shoved Glynis toward Duncan and positioned himself a few paces in front of them, his stance wide and his sword ready.

“Watch yourself,” Duncan said in a low voice behind him. “This one knows how to fight.”

The Clanranald chieftain raised his claymore over his head and roared again as he ran headlong toward them. The blow was so strong that Alex felt the vibration to his feet.

“Ye forget you’re a guest here,” Alex grunted between their next exchange of blows.

The man’s eyes were wild with rage, and he swung his sword with the force of a boulder crashing down a cliff. For a man so heavy with muscle, he was quick, too. It took all of Alex’s skill and strength to force him toward the middle of the field. When Alex had him well away from the wall, he risked a glance to be sure Duncan had gotten Glynis inside the castle gate.

Diverting his attention for even a moment was a mistake. Alex had to drop to the ground to avoid the Clanranald chieftain’s next swing. He felt the wind of the blade in his hair. Before he could get to his feet, his opponent brought his sword straight down with a loud grunt. Alex rolled out of the way just before the blade thudded to the ground.

This was no practice fight—the Clanranald chieftain was trying to kill him.

The two of them crossed swords up and down the yard. Alex spun around and hit Magnus’s back so hard with the flat of his sword that he nearly knocked the chieftain off his feet. When a cheer went up, Alex became aware that a crowd had gathered to watch them.

But Alex wasn’t putting on a show this time. He was fighting for his life.

Sweat poured down his back as he alternately blocked Magnus’s sword and swung his own. At last, he sensed his opponent tiring. They leaned into each other, swords crossed, and faces inches apart.

“Only a weak man would let a lass upset him so much,” Alex taunted him.

“She doesn’t upset me,” Magnus hissed, his black eyes bulging with fury.

When they broke apart, Magnus came at him hard, but his swings were less controlled. Alex spun and danced around him, swinging again and again, wearing him down.

“I hear she cut your ballocks off,” Alex said just loud enough for Magnus to hear him, “and left ye less than a man.”

This time when Magnus charged him, Alex stepped aside—and stuck his foot out. The Clanranald chieftain crashed to the ground. In an instant, Alex sat astride his opponent’s back and held his head up by his hair. Duncan appeared with a bucket of water and drenched the Clanranald chieftain, who sputtered and coughed.

“Ye can thank me for saving ye from murdering a lass who doesn’t upset ye,” Alex said, still breathing hard. “And by the way, I believe we are cousins of some sort—my mother is a Clanranald.”

“Get off me!”

Alex leaned down to speak in the man’s ear. “Stay away from Glynis MacNeil if ye know what’s good for ye. Next time, I’ll kill ye—and now ye know I can do it.”

Magnus Clanranald was a chieftain and a man of pride. Threatening him was not wise, but it was necessary. Alex left the man with his face in the dirt.

“Let’s go for a swim,” Alex said, as he and Duncan started off the field. “I’d say we’re doing a fine job of following Connor’s orders to make friends among the rebel clans.”

“’Tis good to remind them that we MacDonalds know how to fight,” Duncan said. “Better that they respect us than like us.”

“I did refrain from killing the Clanranald chieftain,” Alex pointed out.

“That was probably a mistake,” Duncan said. “I was watching his clansmen while ye were fighting, and at least half of them were ready to thank ye for doing away with him.”

* * *

Glynis ignored Duncan’s order to go inside the keep and stood transfixed watching the fight through the open gate. Apparently, the MacDonald captain of the guard was used to being obeyed, for he left her without a backward glance.

“Ye don’t want to miss this fight!” someone shouted.

People jostled her as they pushed past to go out into the yard. Fortunately, no one seemed to realize the fight had anything to do with her. A large crowd encircled the two men who were clanking swords ferociously up and down the field.

“I don’t blame ye for watching. Alex MacDonald is sinfully handsome.”

Glynis started at the sound of a woman’s deep, rich voice beside her. She turned to find it belonged to the mysterious beauty, Lady Catherine Campbell, who was Shaggy Maclean’s wife. With her wavy dark hair and voluptuous curves, the woman exuded a sensuality that left men gasping. Catherine was every man’s dream—and she knew it.

Next to her, Glynis felt like a doll her father once made for her from sticks and frayed rope.

“Praise God,” Glynis said when Alex and Duncan left Magnus sprawled on the ground.

“I knew Alex would win,” Catherine said. “He has the twin gifts of skill and the devil’s own luck.”

When Magnus started to get up, Glynis picked up her skirts to go inside before he saw her again. But as she turned, the glint of sun hitting metal caught her eye. Magnus was pulling a short blade from his sleeve.

“Alex!” Glynis shouted.

The warning was unnecessary. Alex had read his man well and was already spinning around in a crouch. He moved so fast that it was difficult to tell exactly how he did it, but his boot met Magnus’s hand with such force that the dirk flew into the air.

A moment later, Magnus’s own men caught him under the arms and dragged him away. Attempting to stab another guest in the back was a serious breach of the rules of Highland hospitality.

Alex wiped his brow on his sleeve and headed down toward the water with Duncan. Glynis watched as the two men waded into the sea and dove under. When Alex emerged after his swim with his shirt clinging to his broad chest, and his hair slicked back and hanging to his shoulders, a small moan escaped her.

She had forgotten Catherine was still standing next to her until she spoke again.

“Save yourself some heartache—don’t set your sights on Alex MacDonald,” Catherine said. “You’re not his sort at all.”

“I’ve set my sights on no man,” Glynis said, feeling unreasonably annoyed by the remark. “And what do ye mean, I’m not his sort?”

“Ye may be twenty, but you’re still a girl,” Catherine said with a laugh in her voice. “A man like Alex needs a woman.”

CHAPTER 7

Alex looked for Glynis when he and Duncan entered the castle, thinking he deserved to collect a kiss from her after that fight. He was ready to risk it—though not in front of her father. But Glynis was not among the crowd congratulating him.

“That was some fine bladework,” Shaggy Maclean said, slapping Alex on his back.

Alex refrained from telling Shaggy to keep his goddamned hands off of him. He hadn’t forgotten Shaggy’s attempt to help Hugh take the chieftainship from Connor.

“I hear the men tested your mettle as well,” Shaggy said, and took his life in his hands by squeezing Duncan’s shoulder. “We need warriors like the two of ye fighting for the rebellion.”

“We’ll discuss it with our chieftain,” Duncan said.

He and Duncan excused themselves to rinse off the salt water from their swim at the well in the castle courtyard. Afterward, Alex climbed the stairs of the keep, looking for an empty chamber where he could stretch out away from the noise in the hall. He should ask his hostess, but he intended to avoid Catherine Campbell for as long as he could.

Alex stripped off his wet clothes and put on the dry shirt he had retrieved from their boat. His muscles ached pleasantly from being worked hard. With a sigh, he lay down on top of the bedclothes.

He had no idea how long he’d been sleeping when he awoke to the delicious sensation of a woman’s fingertips caressing his stomach. He smiled to himself and indulged in the completely inappropriate fantasy that it was Glynis MacNeil running her fingers over his skin.

Ah, that feels good, Glynis.

Long hair tickled his chest, and he imagined her thick chestnut-brown hair sliding over him. Aye.

It was bound to be a disappointment, but he supposed it was time to find out who this really was. When he slit open his eyes, Catherine Campbell was leaning over him with her hair spilling over his chest.

“I’d been watching for ye,” she said in her husky voice. “And now I’ve found ye.”

She had found him, indeed. Her hand was wrapped around his cock.

Catherine was a gorgeous woman, and he was tempted. God knew, his body was ready. But contrary to what many thought of him, Alex did abide by certain rules.

“I can’t do this, Catherine,” he said. “Not when I’m a guest in your husband’s home.”

“That didn’t trouble ye last time,” she said.

When she started moving her hand up his shaft, he held her wrist—no small act of will.

“I was a prisoner in Shaggy’s dungeon, not his guest,” he said. “The customary rules of courtesy did not apply.”

Catherine gave a throaty laugh. Alex tried hard not to notice that her skirts were hiked up to reveal lovely thighs—or that every time she leaned over him, her even lovelier breasts pressed against the low-cut bodice, as if begging to be released.

“Ye needn’t be concerned about Shaggy because I’m going to leave him,” Catherine said, and Alex’s throat went dry as she ran her hands from the sides of her breasts down to her hips and then the tops of her bare thighs. “Ye see, I need a man who can please me.”

There was nothing Connor would like better than a close connection to the Campbells. And Catherine was clearly suggesting a close connection of some sort.

“But ye haven’t left Shaggy yet,” he said. “So let me get up.”

When she didn’t budge, Alex decided he would have to move her off him, but there seemed no safe place to put his hands.

“Let’s get naked, Alexander.” She leaned against him, pressing her full breasts against his chest, and wound her arms around his neck.

It was not like him to say nay to a beautiful woman who wanted him naked. He made a practice of following the old saying The oar that is close at hand, row with it.

With her rubbing against him, his body was in favor of giving in. And yet, he didn’t truly want Catherine. It wasn’t just that bedding the wife of his host was against one of his few principles, or that he felt used—though he did. Catherine wanted to punish her husband. And worse, he suspected she wanted to get caught.

She was a beautiful, willing woman. And yet, Alex couldn’t get rid of her fast enough to suit him. As he sat up he took hold of her waist and lifted her to the floor. There.

When he stood, Catherine came behind him and put her arms around his waist. Her hands roamed over his chest and hips, and it took him a moment too long to remember why this was a bad idea. By the time he did, she had tugged his shirt over his head.

“Catherine. I told ye I can’t do this.”

When he turned around and took his shirt from her, she pressed herself against him. Ach, Catherine would try a saint. As soon as he peeled her fingers from around his neck, they ended up on his arse.

She felt very, very good. As she kissed his chest, he closed his eyes and checked his resolve.

“Ye know ye want me,” she said against his skin.

“Not now, Catherine.” Gently, he pushed her away.

Before she could grab him again, Alex gathered the rest of his clothes from the bench. When he turned and started toward the door, it was already open. Oh, God, no.

CHAPTER 8

The clatter and voices from below grew muffled as Glynis climbed the circular stone stairs. She should find Alex in the hall and thank him for what he did, but she didn’t want to risk seeing Magnus again so soon. When she reached the third floor, she paused, trying to remember which bedchamber the Macleans usually set aside for the visiting women of high rank.

Since everyone else was in the hall for the midday meal, she didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone, so she opened the door to her right. Glynis took one step inside and froze. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, a voice was telling her to get out. But her feet would not obey.

Alexander Bàn MacDonald stood with his back to the door—and not a stitch on him. How she knew it was him from the back was a question she’d ask herself later. But one look at the blond hair, the broad shoulders, the long, muscular legs, and that perfect, manly arse, and Glynis knew for certain that this naked man was Alex.

A woman’s fingers were laced at the back of his neck. Glynis still could not move—her hand held the door latch as if melded to it. She forced her gaze to the floor, but there was nothing she could do to slow her heartbeat. When the woman gave a throaty laugh, Glynis could not help looking up again.

She could not breathe. The woman had her hands on Alex’s bare backside. Glynis imagined how his muscles would feel beneath her fingers.

“Not now, Catherine.” Alex’s voice penetrated her daze.

Glynis had to leave before Alex saw her. And still, she felt as if her feet were nailed to the floor.

Alex turned.

Ach, it was a sin for a man to be so tall and handsome. It wasn’t fair at all. Her eyes skimmed over him, slowly moving from his damp blond hair and striking face to his broad chest. She longed to feel the rough hair and hard muscles beneath her palms. And then her gaze fell lower still.

Her mouth fell open, and she felt an odd squeeze inside her as she stared at his fully erect shaft. Suddenly, she realized what she was doing, and she jerked her gaze back up to his face.

Alex had halted where he was. A dark smile played over his lips.

“Glynis.” He spoke her name slowly, as if tasting each letter. His voice was thick honey, golden like the rest of him.

Glynis was so bewitched that she had forgotten there was someone else in the room. When the woman came out from behind Alex and slipped her arm around his waist, Alex looked as startled as Glynis was.

The woman was Catherine Campbell, the Maclean chieftain’s wife. With her shining black hair tousled, her gown loosened to reveal the tops of her generous breasts, and her eyes dark with desire, she was breathtaking.

Alex called Glynis’s name as she ran down the stairs. His voice echoed off the stone walls and inside her head, but she did not stop. She ran out of the keep, across the yard, and out the gate. Only after she scrambled down to the shore did she finally stop. She sat on a rock and pressed her palm to her chest, trying to get her breath back. Her hands shook, and her heart pounded as if it would burst.

Why was she so upset? She hardly knew Alex MacDonald. And from what she did know about him, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in bed with a woman. Still, it had been a shock to see the pair of them like that. She covered her face, remembering how she had stared at him naked. Ach, she had stared at his manly parts! How could she?

Of course, it would be the most beautiful woman in all the Highlands who was in bed with Alex. But his host’s wife? Foolish, but Glynis had thought better of him than that.

* * *

Alex tried to find Glynis as soon as he had untangled himself from Catherine. Why he felt the need to explain himself to Glynis, he did not know. But for some reason, it was important to him that she not think he was even worse than he actually was.

He still hadn’t seen Glynis when he and Duncan entered the hall for supper. He scanned the room for her. He didn’t have much time left—he was leaving for Edinburgh in the morning.

“Who are ye looking for?” Duncan asked.

“No one,” Alex said.

“Hmmph,” Duncan grunted, but he let it pass. “These rebels are up to something. Donald Gallda and the other chieftains met this afternoon without any of their men present.”

Donald Gallda MacDonald of Lachalsh was the latest MacDonald to take up the leadership of the rebellion. The king had taken him to be raised in the Lowlands after his father’s rebellion, which was the reason Highlanders called him Donald Gallda, the Stranger.

“Let’s split up and see what we can find out,” Alex said.

“I’ll see if that drunken lot knows anything,” Duncan said with a nod toward a table of Maclean warriors. “I assume you’ll talk with the MacNeils.”

Before Alex could ask Duncan what he meant by that remark, Duncan was gone.

Alex found the MacNeil chieftain near the hearth. Judging from his hearty greeting, the man had forgiven Alex for that kiss on the beach.

“I have a warning for ye,” the MacNeil said below the noise of the hall. “No one but the chieftains is to know ahead of time, but we’re attacking Mingary Castle tomorrow.”

“That’s poking a stick in the hornet’s nest.” Mingary was held by the MacIains, who were close allies of the Crown. The Crown would be up in arms over this, which made it all the more important for Alex to get to Edinburgh to reassure the regent.

“If ye don’t want to be part of it, be gone by morning.” The MacNeil glanced about to be sure no one was listening. “They intend to give you and Duncan the choice to fight with us or be the first to die in the battle.”

If Connor’s close cousin and the captain of his guard participated in the attack, the Crown’s allies would hear of it, and their clan would be committed to the rebellion.

“The sly dogs.” Alex should have expected it.

“I don’t agree with forcing a chieftain’s hand like that,” the MacNeil said. “But after the others saw ye fight, they were determined to see ye on the right side or dead.”

“I appreciate the warning.” They would all have to leave tonight, he to Edinburgh, and Duncan and the rest of their men to Skye.

“Being Highlanders, these other chieftains will be all the more impressed if ye succeed in sneaking out of here under their noses,” the MacNeil said, and they both laughed.

“They’ll never hear us leave,” Alex said with a wink. He was anxious to talk with Duncan, but that would have to wait until after the meal. “Shall we find your daughter and sit down?”

“She’s sitting at the high table tonight.”

Alex turned and saw Glynis was indeed at the high table, sitting next to the weasel with the weedy beard. “Who is that?”

“Shaggy’s second son, Alain.” The MacNeil elbowed him. “He would be a good match for my Glynis.”

“Him?” Alex stared at the pair at the head table for a long moment, trying to decide if the MacNeil chieftain was having a joke on him.

“Aye,” the MacNeil said, nodding. “Alain is a chieftain’s son from a strong clan that supports the rebellion, and she’s known him all her life.”

“He’s not a man I would trust,” Alex said.

For a brief moment, Glynis met his eyes. But when Alex smiled and nodded, she turned her head.

“And you are?” MacNeil asked him.

“Are what?” Alex asked, with his gaze still on Glynis.

“A man to be trusted.”

That got his attention. Alex knew exactly what the MacNeil chieftain was asking him. He heard his mother’s voice in his head, as if she were standing right next to him. Ye will be just like your father!

And Alex had turned out to be like his father. He enjoyed women, though never the same one for long. But in one regard, Alex was determined to be different from his father. He would not make the mistake of marrying a good woman and causing her to hate him.

“Your daughter would have her dirk in me in no time,” Alex said. “And I’d deserve it.”

“Alain will do,” the MacNeil chieftain said. “Of course, I’d prefer that she and Magnus Clanranald patched up their differences.”

Alex spun around to stare at him. “Ye can’t mean it,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. “Magnus is a vile man—and he’s a danger to her.”

“Ach,” MacNeil said, dismissing this with a wave of his hand. “They got off to a bad start. A little time is all they need—and a babe, of course. A babe would solve the problem. Ye can’t blame Magnus for wanting an heir. Every man does.”

He’d send her back to Magnus? Alex wanted to pound the MacNeil’s thick head on the table, but knocking sense into the man was clearly a hopeless task.

Alex drank down his ale, wishing to God that Shaggy served whiskey instead.

* * *

The bar across the door creaked as Glynis slid it back. Over the pounding in her ears, she heard one of the women on the bed behind her sigh. Her hands shook as she waited for the woman to call out to her.

There was a rustle of bedclothes, and she held her breath, waiting. Silence settled over the room again. Moving as quickly as she dared in the blackness, Glynis picked up the cloth bag she had left beside the door, lifted her cloak from the peg, and slipped out.

Panic surged through her limbs as a large hand covered her mouth.

CHAPTER 9

Don’t scream. It’s me.” Alex didn’t release his hand from Glynis’s mouth until she nodded.

“I asked ye to meet me outside the kitchens,” she whispered.

“Quiet. We can’t talk here.” He put his arm around her and swept her down the stairs before someone in one of the bedchambers heard them and came out to investigate.

When they reached the main floor, he continued down into the undercroft. With so many guests in the castle, they could find servants sleeping or still working in the kitchens, so he grabbed a lit torch off the wall and shoved her into a storeroom.

“What were ye thinking asking me to meet ye at this hour?” he said, as he rammed the torch into the sconce on the wall.

Alex had been on the galley sorting out the supplies he needed to take with him to Edinburgh when a young boy appeared and told him that a lady wanted him to meet her at midnight outside the kitchens. This was not the first time he’d had that sort of request. He was about to send the lad away, but something made him ask the lad to describe the lady first.

“I’m glad ye came,” Glynis said.

“Ye gave me no choice,” he said. “I couldn’t have ye wandering around a castle full of warriors—half of them drunk— looking for me in the dark.”

He took a deep breath. He had wanted to say good-bye to her—and to explain about what she’d seen when she walked in on him and Catherine—but he didn’t have a lot of time. He was meeting Duncan soon, and then they were all leaving.

“Why did ye want to see me?” he asked.

“When I talked with your friend Duncan this afternoon, he told me you’re going to Edinburgh.”

How had she gotten closemouthed Duncan to share their business with her?

“I want ye to take me with ye,” she said.

Alex could not have been more stunned if she’d sprouted fairy wings and flown over the pots and bags of grain in the storeroom. Just what was Glynis suggesting? His heart gave a big lurch as he considered the possibility that she might actually want to run off with him. Apparently, she liked what she saw of him earlier today.

But it seemed so unlikely that he had to ask. “Why?”

“I’ve decided to live with my mother’s family,” she said. “They are Lowlanders and live in Edinburgh.”

Alex waited for the relief he should feel upon learning that her request had nothing to do with him, but it didn’t come. A bad sign.

“Ye know verra well that I can’t just run off with ye across Scotland,” Alex said.

“Ye must,” she said, clenching her fists. “My da wants to marry me to Alain.”

Alex wanted to hit something. He didn’t have time for this, and her father hadn’t listened to him before, but he wanted to help her if he could. “Do ye know where your father is? I’ll speak with him.”

“Does my father strike ye as the sort of man who takes advice well?”

She had a point, but he said, “I can be verra persuasive.”

“So I’ve heard,” Glynis said with more than a touch of sarcasm. “But it will do no good. My father is too stubborn by half.”

As was his daughter. “Have ye considered a compromise? Is there no man ye are willing to wed?”

Glynis gave her head a firm shake and folded her arms. “Ye said ye would be my friend.”

“Stealing a lass away from her father is no being a friend,” he said, though his words felt hollow. Her mother’s family could hardly do worse by her.

“Take me, Alexander Bàn MacDonald,” she said, her gray eyes turning to hard flint. “Or I’ll go tell the Maclean chieftain right now that I saw ye swiving his wife.”

“That wasn’t what it looked like!” Alex was so used to having committed whatever offense he was accused of that he hardly knew how to defend himself. “My clan needs ties to the Campbells, so I couldn’t offend her.”

“Ye sacrificed yourself for the sake of your clan, did ye?”

“I didn’t do what ye think,” Alex protested. “Though it wasn’t easy, mind ye.”

Judging from the grim line of her mouth, Glynis was not impressed with his forbearance.

“Catherine is close to her brothers,” he explained. “If you’ve forgotten, they are the Earl of Argyll and the Thane of Cawdor, so I had to be verra careful about how I told her nay.”

“It looked like ‘aye’ to me—your being naked and all.”

Ach, she was full of sarcasm tonight. Glynis took a step closer and tapped her finger against his chest. Despite the anger in her eyes, the point of her finger sent heat radiating through his body.

“How about I tell Shaggy Maclean what I saw and let him sort it out?” she asked.

God preserve him, she was a determined woman. If she went running to Shaggy with this tale now, none of the MacDonalds would escape tonight. Alex ran his hand through his hair. He could tie her up and leave her in the storeroom. But he didn’t like the idea of leaving her helpless, not knowing how long she might lie here—or who might find her.

“If ye tell Shaggy, he’ll kill me,” Alex said, attempting to reason with her.

“It wouldn’t be my fault,” she said. “A man should pay for his sins.”

Hadn’t Teàrlag said something like that to him?

“Ye wouldn’t be that heartless,” he said, though Glynis was looking as if she damned well would. “And I’m telling ye, I didn’t sin with Catherine.”

Not this time, anyway.

“I’ll do what I must,” Glynis said with that stubborn look in her eyes. “There are hundreds of men here. My father won’t know it was you I left with, if that’s your concern.”

With her father attacking Mingary, he wouldn’t even know she was missing for days. Still, it was too foolish.

“The truth has a way of coming out.” Alex folded his arms across his chest. “Have ye thought of what your father will do if he finds out I’m the one who stole ye away? Angry as he would be, he’d demand a wedding.”

For the first time, Glynis looked uncertain. It grated on him that the possibility of being forced to wed him was the only part of her ridiculous plan that gave her pause.

“I’ll have to take the risk,” she said in a hard voice. “Now, do I go bang on Shaggy’s bedchamber door, or will ye take me?”

CHAPTER 10

Let’s go,” Alex said.

Glynis sucked in her breath as he pulled her tight against his side. Her feet barely touched the ground as they passed the kitchens and started up the stairs.

What was she doing, putting herself into the hands of a man she barely knew? What made her trust this too-handsome warrior from a different clan? He owed her no allegiance. And he was angry that she’d coerced him into taking her. He could abandon her in the wilderness.

This was the most outrageous thing she had ever done, except perhaps stabbing her husband. But sticking Magnus was something that just happened—she hadn’t planned it.

The cool night air hit her face as they left the keep, but Alex’s heat radiated through her. He had a warrior’s body, powerful and graceful, and he held her with a sureness that sent her heart hammering.

Would Alex expect to be more than her escort?

That might be a reasonable assumption for a man to make—especially if he was the sort of man who was accustomed to having women offer themselves to him. If half of what she’d heard about Alex Bàn MacDonald was true, he was that sort of man.

“If anyone sees us,” Alex said in a low voice, “we want them to believe we’re a pair of lovers sneaking off for a tryst.”

Alex only meant to pretend they would. Glynis was, of course, relieved that Alex had not mistaken her intentions.

“’Tis fortunate I have a companion with so much useful experience,” she whispered.

“Keep your head down,” Alex said. “We don’t want anyone to recognize ye.”

“I suppose it won’t matter if they recognize you,” she said. “In fact, it might seem suspicious if a night went by without someone seeing ye sneak off with a lass.”

“Shhh.”

They were walking along the castle wall, in sight of the gate now. Glynis’s heart raced. Would the guards stop them? Would they demand to know who she was and call her father? Alex slowed his steps. When he leaned down, the warmth of his breath in her ear sent a tingle all the way to her toes.

“Play along with me,” he whispered.

She nearly yelped when he slid his hand under her cloak and along her ribcage. It was far too close to her breast.

She grabbed his wrist and hissed, “I cannot breathe with your hand there.”

He chuckled deep in his throat, but he didn’t remove his hand. Instead, he nuzzled her neck. “Have ye changed your mind?” he said against her skin. “Because if ye want to go to Edinburgh, we must first get out of the castle.”

She heard the sound of boots coming around the corner of the keep. The next thing she knew, Alex had her flattened against the stone wall. His mouth was on hers before she could think, Oh, God, he’s going to kiss me!

And it didn’t seem like a pretend kiss at all. His body was hard against hers, but his mouth was soft and warm. As Alex kissed her again and again, her knees grew so weak she had to put her arms around his neck to keep from falling. He held her tighter as he deepened their kisses, his tongue in her mouth, probing, seeking.

Her insides turned to liquid, and her head spun. The things other women said about kissing were true after all. That was her last clear thought.

His hands were moving under her cloak, gripping her hip, sliding up the sides of her breasts. When she felt his hard shaft against her belly, a groan escaped her throat. She tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him closer still.

Suddenly, Alex broke the kiss. He was breathing hard, and he still had her pressed against the wall so that she felt every inch of his heat through her clothes.

He framed her face with his hands and looked into her eyes. She blinked, trying to take in what had just happened to her and what it meant.

“Do ye think we convinced the guards,” he asked, running his thumb across her cheek, “or should I kiss ye again to be sure?”

She was mortified. It was all a joke to him.

* * *

How had he lost control like that? God help him, he’d wanted to lift Glynis’s skirts and take her right there against the castle wall with the guards walking by.

Alex thought he could rely upon Glynis’s good sense. Ha! She melted in his arms from the first touch of their lips—and he’d lost his mind.

How would he ever manage to make it all the way to Edinburgh?

This was Teàrlag’s fault. He should have tied Glynis up instead of following the seer’s admonition to help the women who called on him. And if he fulfilled his deep desires with this one, she was sure to bring him danger. Bedding an unmarried chieftain’s daughter was a grave offense that justified the harshest possible punishment—death or marriage.

Alex ignored the guards’ jibes about getting sand in their hair—and various private places—as the men let them out the gate. Glynis tried to tug her hand away, but he ignored that, too. Holding her tightly, he led her down to the shore.

“Over here,” Duncan called.

Alex followed Duncan’s voice until his friend’s outline emerged from the darkness.

“I ‘borrowed’ this skiff from the Macleans for ye,” Duncan said. “It’s old, but it should get ye across to the mainland.”

“You’re a good man,” Alex said. “You’d best be off as well.”

Their men and galley were ready and waiting for Duncan in the next cove. Despite Glynis, all had gone well so far. But at any moment, someone in the hall could wake and notice that all the MacDonalds of Sleat were missing.

Duncan’s gaze shifted from him to Glynis and back again, asking for an explanation.

“Ye never saw her,” Alex said. “This was her plan, not mine. She wants me to take her to her relatives in Edinburgh.”

“Mistress Glynis,” Duncan said, “are ye certain ye want to do this?”

“I can take ye back to the keep, and no one would be the wiser.” Alex held his breath, waiting for her answer.

“I’m going,” Glynis said, and climbed into the boat.

It appeared Alex was in for an adventure. Teàrlag said three women would require his help, and he hoped to hell the old seer had miscounted.

“We aren’t the only ones leaving in the dark tonight,” Duncan said to Alex, after they had stepped away to speak in private. “I saw another boat go out a couple of hours ago.”

Alex waited, sensing Duncan had something more to say to him.

“Glynis is a good woman,” Duncan said at last.

“I know she is,” Alex said. “I don’t intend to take advantage of the situation.”

“Good luck,” Duncan said, squeezing Alex’s shoulder. “I suspect ye will need it.”

* * *

The moon shone between the fast-moving night clouds, revealing the occasional rock poking above the sea. Alex maneuvered the boat around them easily. He did not know the waters around the Mull as well as he did those around the islands to the north and the west. But the Viking blood was strong in him, and gave him a sixth sense on the water.

The only sound was the soft splash of his oars. The water was flat and silent, and neither he nor Glynis had spoken a word in the hour since they left the shore.

“Ye didn’t have to kiss me,” Glynis said.

He smiled to himself. Obviously, Glynis had been dwelling on those kisses, too.

“Ye could have pretended,” she said. “It was too dark for the guards to tell the difference.”

“And why would I want to do that?” he asked.

Glynis cleared her throat. “I fear I didn’t make myself clear. When I asked ye to take me with ye—”

“Forced me, ye mean,” Alex said.

“I didn’t mean it as an invitation to… to…”

Alex couldn’t help himself. “To make love to ye morning, noon, and night, all the way to Edinburgh?”

“Alex!”

Glynis sounded so scandalized that he laughed.

“Don’t jump overboard—I know ye were only looking for an escort, not a bedmate.” Under his breath, he added, “A shame, that.”

A damn shame. This was going to be one hell of a long trip.

“What do ye know of your mother’s family?” he asked to divert himself.

“I’ve never met them, but I understand they are a wealthy and respected merchant family,” she said. “One of my uncles is a priest.”

Alex would make sure that her mother’s family were good people before he left her with them. If they weren’t, heaven help him, for he didn’t know what he’d do with her then.

“Why do ye travel to Edinburgh?” Glynis asked.

“I have business for my chieftain,” Alex said. “And some of my own as well.”

He should have kept his mouth shut about his own business. Before she could ask about that, he said, “’Tis a dangerous world, Glynis. Like it or no, ye need a husband to protect ye.”

His own words caused an annoying sensation in his gut.

“Like my last husband protected me? No thank ye,” Glynis said. “My mother’s family will look after me. Besides, Edinburgh sounds like a tame place.”

Alex didn’t like the idea of her alone with only a family of Lowlanders and priests to protect her. “Ye should find yourself a strong Highland man.”

“Hmmph. I’ve had one of those,” she said

A heavy fog had rolled in. Alex heard a faint mewling sound in the distance and lifted his oars to listen.

“What is that?” Glynis asked in a hushed voice. “It sounds like a cat caught in a tree.”

That was no cat. Alex rowed the boat toward the sound through the billowing fog.

CHAPTER 11

Help! Someone help me!” The cry came through the dense fog.

“It’s a woman,” Glynis said, leaning forward and grabbing Alex’s knee.

“Aye.” He had known it was a female from the start. The question was, what kind?

Alex wasn’t a superstitious man—for a Highlander—but every story he’d ever heard about selkies came back to him as he rowed closer. A selkie was a sea creature who was known to take the form of a beautiful woman and lure sailors to their deaths. In nearly all the stories, selkies appeared to men when a dense fog lay over the water.

“Help me!”

In front of him, the black shape of a rock emerged out of the mist.

“I can see her!” Glynis stood in the boat, pointing. “She’s clinging to that rock.”

Alex saw the outline of the upper half of a figure with long flowing hair above the water line. Her legs—or tail—were beneath the water.

“Hold on,” he called out. “We’re coming for ye.”

“She’s just there!” Glynis said.

“Get in the back of the boat.” Knowing Glynis was not the sort to follow orders without an explanation, he added, “I need ye to keep the boat steady while I pull her in.”

But if Alex saw a tail, he was dropping this creature back into the sea.

He brought the boat up next to the rock. When he leaned out to lift her, she kept her arms wrapped around the rock. Ach, this was no selkie. The poor thing was shaking like a newborn lamb.

“Ye can let go now,” he said, using the same soft tone he would use with a riled horse. “I’ve got ye.”

Only two feet of the rock remained above water, and the tide was still coming in. Another hour or two, and she’d have nothing left to hold on to. How long had she been here, clinging to it as the water rose around her? No wonder she was afraid to let go.

“Don’t worry, lass,” he said. “You’re safe now.”

“Alex?” the woman asked in a hoarse voice. “Is that you?”

God in Heaven, the woman clinging to the rock was Catherine Campbell.

“Aye, it’s me,” he said. “Put your arms around my neck. I promise I won’t drop ye.”

Catherine’s skirts were heavy with water as he lifted her into the boat. Moving quickly, he loosened his plaid and wrapped it around them both, then he set to rubbing her back and limbs to get her blood moving. She was so cold her teeth were chattering.

Glynis found a blanket and draped it around Catherine’s shoulders.

“What happened, Catherine?” Alex asked. “How did ye get out here?”

“Sh-sh-aggy did it.” Her teeth chattered as she spoke. “He-he brought me out here and left me.”

“Are ye saying Shaggy meant for ye to drown?”

She nodded against his chest.

The saints have mercy! Alex had seen a good deal of violence in his life, and he knew of instances when men murdered wives or lovers in a rage. But the cold ruthlessness of this shocked him. Shaggy had wanted his wife to watch the water rise for hours, knowing all the while that she would drown in the end.

“We’ve got to go to shore and get a fire going for her,” he said to Glynis. “Then we’ll need to get her to her family.”

“What do ye want me to do?” Glynis asked. “I can row.”

Thank God Glynis wasn’t the sort of woman to lose her head in a crisis.

“I’ll row,” he said. “Just keep her as warm as ye can.”

A second woman had asked for his help.

* * *

Glynis tried to lift Catherine Campbell to the back of the boat as Alex took up the oars, but the woman slid from her arms like an eel. When Glynis tried again, Catherine wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist from behind and clung to him, just as she had to the rock.

“It’s all right. Just tuck my plaid around her,” Alex said. “My body will give off plenty of heat while I row.”

As he rowed, Alex calmed Lady Catherine with a steady, low murmur, as if he were soothing a babe in his arms. Glynis felt useless.

She bit her lip against her own disappointment. After what Lady Catherine had suffered, it was small of her to think about how her own plans were ruined. Alex would insist upon seeing Catherine safely to her brother’s castle, as well he should, and Glynis would never make it to Edinburgh.

The Campbell chieftain would send word to Glynis’s father. And she would go home in worse shame than before.

“The fog is lifting, and the wind is picking up,” Alex said to Glynis after a while. “We can put the sail up now, and we’ll be on the Campbell side of the loch in no time.”

After Glynis helped him raise the boat’s small sail, Alex gathered Lady Catherine in his lap and sat with one arm around her and one guiding the boat.

“Catherine, if ye feel well enough to talk,” Alex said, “can ye tell us why Shaggy left ye on that rock?”

“He wanted to be rid of me without earning the wrath of my brothers,” she said. “He wanted me dead, without blood on his hands.”

“Who else was involved?” Alex asked.

“Shaggy rowed me out to the rock himself—he didn’t want to risk any loose tongues,” Catherine said, anger strengthening her voice. “While he had me trussed like a pig for roasting, he took considerable pleasure in telling me how the water would creep up until I’d have no rock to hold on to.”

Glynis thought Lady Catherine sounded sufficiently recovered to sit on her own. Catherine did not, however, remove herself from Alex’s lap.

“Shame I didn’t succeed in poisoning him,” Catherine said. “I tried twice, but Shaggy is a tough old bird.”

Glynis exchanged glances with Alex, but he showed no surprise at this remarkable confession.

“The poison did no more than make him ill for a day or two,” Catherine said. “I tell ye, it was verra disappointing.”

Alex cleared his throat. “I take it he planned to inform your brothers that ye met with an accident.”

“Aye, and he’d have a few hundred men to say he was fighting the MacIains at Mingary Castle the day I disappeared,” Catherine said, her voice hard with bitterness. “Shaggy will pay for this. My brothers will see to it.”

They were finally drawing near the far shore, where several fishermen were at the water’s edge readying their boats for the morning’s fishing.

“They should be Campbells,” Alex said. “You two stay in the boat while I talk with them.”

Glynis took one of the oars and held it against the bottom of the loch to steady the boat while Alex climbed out. As he and the fisherman spoke in murmured voices, Glynis felt the eyes of the men on her and Lady Catherine.

“Catherine, these fishermen are your clansmen,” Alex said when he returned to them. “We can rest here at their camp before starting the journey to Inveraray Castle.”

Glynis wondered how many days and miles they would have to walk to reach the Campbell fortress, and her spirits sank lower.

The fishermen seemed in awe of their chieftain’s sister and took pains to make them comfortable. After providing them with food and blankets and stoking the fire, they left the three of them to rest and took their boats out to fish.

Glynis was so tired after being awake all night on the water that she fell asleep almost before her head touched the ground. When she woke, it was near dusk, and the fishermen were back. Alex was sitting next to her, whittling a stick with his dirk. She sat up and looked around her. Lady Catherine stood several yards away surrounded by several men who had just arrived.

“Who are they?” she asked Alex.

“The fishermen felt their chieftain’s sister needed Campbell warriors to escort her home,” Alex said, with his eyes on the men. “They fetched these.”

The Campbell warriors scowled at Alex when Catherine left them to sit next to him.

“These men will see ye safely to Inveraray Castle,” Alex said. “But save your story about what Shaggy did for your brothers’ ears alone.”

Catherine slid her hand through Alex’s arm. “I want you to take me there.”

“Glynis and I must be on our way to Edinburgh in the morning,” Alex said.

Relief flooded through Glynis. He would take her to her mother’s family after all.

“Why are ye traveling with her?” Catherine glanced sideways at Glynis as if she were mud stuck on her shoes.

“I’m taking Glynis to her mother’s relations, nothing more,” he said. “We don’t want her father to hear of it, so don’t tell the men who we are.”

“Surely your trip can wait,” Catherine said, sounding her usual haughty self.

“I must meet someone in Edinburgh before the end of the month.” Alex gave Catherine a smile that would melt a witch’s heart. “Come, Catherine, ye know damned well no one on Campbell lands would dare harm a hair on your pretty head.”

Ach, the man could charm the wings off a fairy. Glynis was disgusted with them both.

“I’ll forgive ye if ye promise to visit on your return,” Catherine said, taking his arm again.

“I’ll do that,” Alex said.

“My brothers will want to reward ye for saving me.” Catherine tilted her head and looked at Alex from under her dark lashes. “And I’ll want to reward ye as well.”

* * *

“We’ll leave as soon as the camp is quiet,” Alex said close to Glynis’s ear.

“I thought we were leaving in the morning.”

“I’d rather not be dragged off in the night to have my throat cut,” Alex said. “These men don’t follow Catherine’s orders, and they are mistrustful of strangers passing through their lands.”

Well, that was true of all Highlanders.

“In the meantime, I’ll encourage them to be cautious.”

Alex stood and, taking his time, met the eyes of every man around the fire. Then he whipped his claymore out so fast it was a blur. Glynis felt the tension of the men as they exchanged glances and silently debated which of them would take on this bold stranger. She prayed Alex knew what he was doing.

Alex swung his claymore through the fire several times, back and forth. At first he did it with both hands, and then he shifted the heavy blade from hand to hand as he sliced it through the fire in smooth, deadly arcs.

After this display, he stood in front of Glynis and said, “No one touches her.”

Glynis swallowed. She suddenly felt very warm. When Alex sat down next to her again, she could feel the power rolling off him.

He turned and spoke to her in a low, commanding voice. “You’ll sleep with me.”

CHAPTER 12

That was not how Glynis had imagined Alex would ask her to lie with him—not that she had imagined it, of course. But if she had, it would most definitely have involved kissing her as he had against the castle wall. His mouth hungry, his hands urgent. His voice rough with desire.

I must have ye, Glynis. I don’t want anyone but you.

Glynis shook her head to clear it. By all the saints, what was she thinking? Alex was not the sort of man who wanted only one woman. All the same, when Alex lay down behind her and pulled her against him, she let herself pretend, just for a moment, that he was whispering in her ear, I want ye badly. Only you.

The arm around her held a dirk.

“I’ll wake ye when it’s time,” he said.

He thought she could sleep? Between waiting for the Campbells to slice her throat and having Alex’s body wrapped around hers, that seemed an unlikely prospect. She lay wide awake listening to Alex’s breathing as the others settled down around the campfire. Despite Catherine’s complaints, the Campbell warriors had insisted that she make her bed far from the “strangers.”

“They have two men keeping watch by the horses,” Alex whispered in her ear. “I’ll take them first and then come back for ye.”

Before Glynis could say no, he was gone without a sound. How would he subdue both guards? And even if he managed that, surely he would startle the horses and wake the other men.

What was she doing, waiting here to be murdered or worse?

She nearly shrieked when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Alex squatting beside her. How had he returned so quickly? He put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to come with him.

The snores and snorts of the sleeping men seemed unnaturally loud, as did every twig under her feet. With each step, she expected to hear a shout behind her. But the angels must have been watching over them, for none of the Campbell men awoke. When she and Alex were thirty yards from the camp, Glynis heard a horse’s neigh. In the darkness, she made out the outline of two horses. One of them nickered and trotted toward them.

“Ah, Buttercup, there’s a good horse,” Alex said in a low voice, as he rubbed the horse’s forelock. The other horse followed and nudged Alex with its nose. “Now, don’t be jealous, Rosebud.”

“Ye know these horses?” Glynis asked.

“We just met,” Alex said. “’Tis a long journey overland from here to Edinburgh so we’re borrowing them from the Campbells.”

“But if we steal their horses, they’ll be after us for sure.”

“We should hurry,” Alex said in a calm voice, as he rubbed the second horse. “Do ye know how to ride?”

The saints preserve her. “Aye, but—”

Without waiting for her to finish, he lifted her up onto the horse, which was already saddled, and handed her the reins. “We can talk on the way.”

“Which horse am I on?”

“I named that one Rosebud,” he said, as he swung up on the other one. “Be good to her.”

“I’ve never ridden in the dark before.”

“We’ll ride slowly,” Alex said as he moved his horse into the lead. “Just give Rosebud her head, and you’ll be fine.”

“What if the Campbells chase us?” she asked.

“Their first duty is to get their chieftain’s sister safely to Inveraray, so they probably won’t,” Alex said over his shoulder. “And I scattered the other horses.”

After what seemed like a couple of hours, Alex dismounted and led their horses across a creek. Then he lifted her down from her mount.

“We’ll sleep here, where we’ll be hidden by these bushes,” he said.

“Shouldn’t we get farther away?”

“We have a good lead on the Campbells, and they won’t be able to look for their horses until daylight,” Alex said. “Besides, it’s dangerous to ride in the dark.”

Dangerous to ride in the dark? Glynis stood with her arms crossed while Alex rolled out two blankets.

“We must rest while we can,” he said, as he lay down on one of them. “We’ll need to be moving again at first light.”

Glynis lay down on the other blanket, facing him.

“Did ye sleep when the fishermen left us at their camp today?” she asked.

“Of course not.”

“How did ye do that with the horses?” she asked.

“I just have a way with horses,” he said in a fading voice. “I always have.”

Just like he had a way with women.

* * *

“Time to be on our way,” Alex said after they ate their cold breakfast in the predawn light.

He couldn’t understand why Glynis seemed surprised that he had collected the dried beef, cheese, and oatcakes from their boat before he got the horses last night. Did she want to go hungry?

He was anxious to put more distance between them and the Campbells. There had been no point in worrying her last night, but he was not as certain as he pretended that none of the Campbells would follow them.

Glynis rolled up the blankets and packed away the food while he saddled the horses.

“Traveling across other clans’ lands is dangerous with just two of us,” Alex said, as he lifted her onto Rosebud’s back. “I don’t want ye out of my sight, understand?”

Glynis fixed him with her serious gaze and nodded.

They rode steadily for hours. Though Alex saw no one behind them, twice he had to quickly pull their horses off the path to avoid meeting other travelers. Because of Glynis, he couldn’t take any risks.

To pass the time, he told her stories. Glynis liked the one about how Ian fell in love with his wife Sìleas best, judging by all the questions she asked.

“Ian left her for five years after they wed?” she asked.

“Ach, he didn’t take it well, being forced to say vows with a dirk at his back,” Alex said. “And he blamed Sìleas for it.”

“I’m glad their story ended happily,” Glynis said with a soft smile.

“Do ye need to stop and stretch your legs?” he asked, but she shook her head. “For a lass with a sour disposition, ye don’t complain much.”

“It’s my stepmother who says I’m sour.” Glynis heaved a sigh. “And it’s true I do complain when she expects me to sit indoors doing needlework for hours.”

“Well, ye are a fine traveling companion,” he told her. “Ye have several advantages over the ones I usually travel with.”

“I do?”

“For one thing, ye are prettier to look at than my cousins and Duncan,” he said. “And for another, ye haven’t heard all of my stories before.”

On the other hand, if he were traveling with one of them, he wouldn’t have to dive off the path like a frightened Lowlander every time a group of warriors was headed their way.

“Ye have a gift for storytelling,” Glynis said with a faint blush. “I wouldn’t mind if ye told them to me more than once.”

“You’ll regret those words,” he said, and laughed. “We have a long journey ahead of us, and I’ve only got three days of stories.” Of course, Alex had a good many more that he couldn’t tell her.

“Ye told me about Ian,” she said. “Will ye tell me about your friend Duncan next?”

Why did she want to know about Duncan?

“Duncan is a fierce warrior,” he said, after a moment. “I’ve never seen him beaten. Not once.”

“I liked him,” she said. “He seems… dependable.”

Alex stifled a groan. “Aye, Duncan is exceedingly dependable. He’s steady, never wavers. Decides what he wants and that’s that.”

All the things that Alex was not.

“There is a good deal of mystery about Duncan’s birth,” Alex said. “And some say a bit of magic.”

“Ye must tell me,” Glynis said, turning wide eyes on him.

“When Duncan’s mother was a lass of sixteen, she was stolen from the beach one day,” Alex said, settling into his story. “A year later, she was returned to the same beach with a babe in her arms. That babe was Duncan.”

“Who took her?”

“His mother never breathed a word—not about what happened, or where she’d been, or who the father of her child was.” Alex paused. “Eight years later, it all happened again.”

“And she still hasn’t told?” Glynis was leaning so far out of her saddle that he feared she might fall off her horse.

"She took her secret to the grave.”

As they rode and he told his stories, Alex scanned the green hills sprinkled with summer flowers. The Campbell men should have turned back by now, but there were plenty of other dangerous men who traveled this trail through the mountains.

“Who is it ye must meet in Edinburgh before the end of the month?”

Alex winced. He had hoped she wasn’t listening when he mentioned that to Catherine.

“Ah, I see this is a story ye don’t wish to tell me,” Glynis said, raising her eyebrows. “Of course, now it is the only one I wish to hear.”

Alex rubbed his neck. He did not want to discuss the Countess or her letter with Glynis MacNeil.

“So who would be waiting for Alex Bàn MacDonald in Edinburgh?” She tapped her finger on her chin—it was a very pretty chin. “Definitely a woman.”

This lass, who was usually so serious, was teasing him. Alex might have enjoyed it for the sparkle in her eyes, if she had chosen a different subject.

“This particular woman must have something special ye want,” Glynis said, narrowing her eyes. “Not the same ‘reward’ Lady Catherine was offering, since ye clearly don’t need to travel all the way to Edinburgh for that.”

“All right, I’ll tell ye.” The tale he told about Sabine was short since he left out the bedding parts.

“A countess,” Glynis said, and there was a harder edge to her wit now. “I suppose that is even more impressive than an earl’s daughter.”

Alex never pretended to be other than what he was. Most women liked him, and he never cared much one way or the other whether they approved of him. And yet, it rankled like hell to have Glynis MacNeil think ill of him.

* * *

Glynis’s legs were so stiff when they finally stopped for the night that she could hardly walk. And yet, the hours had flown by. Alex Bàn MacDonald had a magical quality about him that she suspected drew females from age three to threescore. It wasn’t just his looks—though they were very fine indeed. When he was talking with you, he had a way of making you feel as if there was no one else in the world he’d rather be with.

Glynis realized that she was following Alex around the camp like a puppy and stopped herself. While he took care of the horses, she gathered dry moss and twigs for a fire.

“You’re a helpful lass.” Alex handed her the rolled blankets and squatted down to start the fire.

Glynis looked down at the blankets in her arms. Last night, Alex had been exhausted after rowing most of the night before. But now, with Alex wide awake and charm flowing from him like honey, the placement of the blankets seemed to take on more importance. How far apart should she spread them? On opposite sides of the fire, or side by side?

“Ye must be tired.” The glow of the sunset touched Alex’s hair as he smiled up at her. “Sit down, lass.”

She dropped down on a rock. Holding the blankets to her chest, she looked about her to avoid looking at him. Alex had chosen a lovely spot next to a loch surrounded by hills.

“In the morning, I’ll catch us fish for breakfast,” he said as he handed her dried meat and another oatcake. “We’ll make a quick meal of it tonight and get to bed.”

The oatcake caught in her throat. He’d spoken as if both the meal and bed were activities they would share. Glynis took a big gulp from the flask of ale and told herself this was not a good time to remember how he’d kissed her against the castle wall.

And yet, now that the memory had come into her head, there was no removing it.

Alex tugged at the blankets in her lap, reminding her that she still had them. When he laid them out side by side, she took another swallow of the ale. Would she have the strength to resist him?

A new question fluttered across her mind. Did she want to resist him?

* * *

Alex lay awake staring at the dark clouds moving against the darker sky and forced himself to think of his parents. Reliving their screaming battles in his head was his only hope for keeping his hands off the woman beside him.

His cock, however, didn’t want to listen to reason.

He knew damned well that Glynis did not want marriage any more than he did. And yet, she tried his will. Though she didn’t touch him, he could feel her leaning toward him in the darkness. Her desire vibrated through him. That made it damned difficult to keep his parents in his head.

Ye cannot have this woman. Ye cannot have this woman. He chanted the words over and over to himself. He gave up on his parents and imagined swimming through icy cold water.

Then he and Glynis were naked in a warm loch, with her hair streaming around them in the water …

Alex shook his head. There were no warm lochs in Scotland. Ach, this journey to Edinburgh was going to kill him for certain.

CHAPTER 13

Alex called on every saint he could think of to give him strength. Three days and nights alone with Glynis—especially the nights—and he was losing his mind.

He felt a prickle at the back of his neck again. He was so twitchy from unrelenting lust that he didn’t know if someone was on the trail behind them or if a flea was scratching itself a hundred miles away.

“We’ll go off the trail here to make our camp,” he said, in case there truly was someone coming up behind them. He was glad it had begun to rain, for that would wash out their tracks.

A short time later, he was cursing the weather. Only in the Highlands would it hail in mid-July. Now he’d have to make a lean-to for them to sleep under with one of their blankets—leaving them one blanket to share. The fairies were making mischief and laughing at him in their fairy hills.

“I’ll look for dry moss to start a fire,” Glynis said.

“No fire.”

“But I’m freezing,” she said, clutching her cloak close about her.

Alex refrained from suggesting the obvious method for two people to keep warm on a cold night.

“There might be someone behind us on the trail,” he said. “’Tis nothing to worry about, but we’ll wait until morning to build a fire.”

The icy pellets caught in her hair as Glynis helped him tie two corners of the blanket to a tree and stake the other corners to the ground with sticks.

“Duck inside while I take care of the horses,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

The wind was picking up as he led Rosebud and Buttercup into the brush by the creek that ran along the base of the valley.

A mix of hail and icy rain pelted his face as he hurried back to check on Glynis. When he crawled inside their makeshift lean-to, he found her shivering so hard that her teeth were chattering. Alex swore he could hear the fairies laughing as he put his arms around her and rubbed her back. The scent of her hair filled his nose. How could a woman smell so good after a long day of riding? He forced himself to release her as soon as she stopped shivering.

He opened the bag with their dwindling supply of food. “I’m afraid it’s dried beef and oatcakes again.”

“It tastes wonderful,” Glynis said, ripping a hunk of the meat off with her teeth.

She ate with an enthusiasm that had him imagining her other appetites. Lord above, sleeping in such close quarters with her was going to make this an even longer night than the others.

“Have some ale,” he said, handing her the flask. Ach, he needed whiskey.

“This is bound to put me right to sleep,” she said with a smile, as she handed it back.

There was only one thing that would put him to sleep. Laying her back on the blanket and making love to her two or three times.

“We had a long day of riding,” she said.

He took a long pull from the flask, his mind on another kind of riding.

“I haven’t thanked ye properly for all you’ve done for me.” When she lowered her eyes, her eyelashes fanned against her cheekbones. It was a reflection of the state he was in that he found this unbearably arousing.

“Thank ye for bringing me with ye even though ye didn’t want to, and for helping me escape Duart Castle without being caught. And for remembering the food and blankets, and stealing the horses, and telling me stories, and keeping me safe… and… for everything.”

Alex heard the hesitation in her voice but didn’t know what it meant. He cursed himself for hoping she was getting up her courage to suggest they make love until neither of them could walk.

“Well, good night then.” She lay down abruptly and curled herself into a ball.

The storm made it seem later than it was, and Alex wasn’t tired. In the dimming light, he watched the rise and fall of her chest. He took another long drink of the ale, wishing again he had something stronger.

A sigh escaped him as he unfolded himself and felt the heat of her body along his side. He stared at the blanket strung above them, bouncing in the wind. Until the last few nights, had he ever slept beside a woman without making love to her first? Nay, he was quite certain he had never suffered this particular form of torture before.

He was so hard that if Glynis breathed on him he might explode.

“I’m freezing,” she said, and huddled closer to his side.

Alex gritted his teeth and pulled her into his arms. When she rested her head on his chest, he lay still and tense, trying to control his breathing. For the hundredth time, he reminded himself that he never bedded virtuous women—especially unmarried ones—and it would be wrong to take advantage of the situation.

And yet, desire, dark and twisted, tested his will like the storm pounding against their fragile shelter. He wanted her deeply, and he wanted her now.

He wanted to bury his face in her hair and taste the salt of her skin on his tongue. To roll her on her back and feel her long legs wrapped around him as he buried himself inside her. Now. Now. Now.

Though Alex wished he could pretend otherwise, this throbbing lust was for Glynis alone, and only she could slake it. Her intensity drew him; her seriousness challenged him. He wanted to shatter her self-control, to set a torch to her steady calm, and to hear her cry his name as she turned into liquid fire beneath him.

When she rolled to her side, he rolled with her, desire pulling him as if she were a lodestone. Tension curled in his gut as he breathed in the fragrance of heather and pine in her hair. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rested his hand lightly on her hip.

The storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest raging inside him. After all the women who had come so easy, it was as if a special hell had been devised just for him, trapping him under this small lean-to with a woman he could not have.

Perhaps God was a female after all.

* * *

The howling wind woke Glynis, and she huddled against Alex, cocooned in the heat of his body folded around hers. She’d never slept with a man’s arms around her before—if she didn’t count her husband falling into a drunken stupor on top of her after he was done poking her.

The dim gray light of dusk still filled their shelter so she had not dozed long. With Alex lying behind her, touching her, she would not get back to sleep soon.

Alex was in a deep slumber, judging by how still he was. She felt edgy and restless. When she scooted closer against him, she felt his shaft, hard and urgent against her bottom. If he were awake, she’d have to move away. His hand moved to cup her breast. Each time she moved it away, it returned as if it belonged there—when, of course, it had no business being there at all. She felt guilty, but so long as he wasn’t awake to know she liked the feel of his big hand covering her breast, was it truly a sin?

Did she care if it was a sin?

“Glynis.”

She sucked in her breath at the sound of Alex’s voice in her ear.

“I can’t be responsible if ye keep moving against me like that,” he said. “I’m begging ye to stop.”

The devil made her press against him.

“Ahh, ye feel so good,” he said, and she sighed with him as he ran his hand all the way down her side to her thigh and back up again.

She willed him to do it again. When he did not, she rolled onto her back to look at him. He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over her with his face so close that she could feel his breath. Unable to resist, she cupped his cheek with her hand. The scratch of his rough beard felt good against her palm.

“We can’t do this, Glynis.”

“Why not?”

Alex gave her that smile that always made her stomach leap. “Ye know the reasons.”

Glynis had been responsible all her life—putting her clan first, taking care of her sisters and brother, offering guidance to her father, whether he took it or not—and what had it got her? Magnus Clanranald was what. Doing as she ought had bought her a foul husband who shamed her—and who would murder her now if he could.

“Ye kissed me before. What’s the harm in doing it again?” She ran her tongue over her top lip, remembering the taste of his mouth on hers. “Kiss me, Alex.”

His eyes went dark, and he clenched his jaw for a long, long moment. When he finally gave in and leaned down, her stomach tightened in anticipation. The moment his lips touched hers, fire spread beneath her skin. She pulled him down into a deep, openmouthed kiss. Aye, this was what she wanted.

The heat from his body sizzled through hers. Her breasts ached, her head spun, and she felt as if she were falling backward, though she was flat on the ground. When he cupped her breast, she moaned into his mouth. Their legs became entangled as their kisses grew deeper, more frantic. She wanted to feel his weight on her, to feel his bare skin beneath her fingers.

But Alex broke away. His gaze was smoldering and his breathing harsh.

“’Tis is a dangerous game you’re playing.” His fingers shook as he brushed her hair back from her face. “One thing is bound to lead to another.”

“I’m hoping it will.” Glynis wasn’t sure when she had decided that she wanted it all, but she had.

Magnus had been such an oaf. He had claimed it was her fault that she didn’t warm to his touch, but she understood now that Magnus hadn’t the slightest notion how to touch her. She wanted to know what it was like to feel passion in the night, and she would never have another chance.

Or a better man to show her.

“Ye may think this is what ye want,” Alex said, “but ye don’t really.”

“I do.” Her fingers still gripped the front of his shirt, and she wasn’t letting go.

“Perhaps ye do right at this moment, but ye would regret it later.” He sighed as he traced the side of her face with his finger. “I don’t want to be a regret.”

She shook her head vehemently from side to side. “I won’t regret it. I promise.”

Alex gave her a faint smile. “Then I will. Ye are precisely the sort of woman I avoid bedding.”

Her stomach clutched, and she turned her face to the side.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, her voice coming out high and thin.

“Ach, ’tis not that I don’t want to,” Alex said, grazing his knuckles against her cheek. “I’ve never wanted a woman this much.”

No doubt he was stretching the truth, but there was such longing in his voice that she did believe he wanted her.

“Then why not?” she asked.

“Ye would expect more of me than I am able to give,” he said in a soft voice. “Ye would want me to be there tomorrow and the next day—and a year from now. I can’t make a woman happy for that long.”

“You’re wrong about what I want,” she said. “I don’t want a husband—but I do want this.”

He made a low sound in the back of his throat that sent a thrill vibrating through her.

“I’m careful,” he said, “but there’s always a chance I could get ye with child.”

She had no idea what he meant by being “careful,” but she shook her head again. “I told ye that I’m barren.”

From the time Glynis started her fluxes, her stepmother had lectured her that it only took once for a lass to get pregnant. But even fertility charms had not worked for her. Glynis had lived with Magnus for three interminable months before she stabbed him and fled, and she had not conceived.

“You’re not the sort to have affairs,” Alex said.

“How can ye say I’m not the sort when I’m the one asking?”

“Because ye couldn’t take it as just a bit of fun,” he said, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. “Ye don’t have a frivolous bone in your body, Glynis MacNeil."

“I won’t have this chance again,” she said. “I’m always watched over—I’m never free.”

Her family criticized her for being too serious-minded. Now that she’d decided to do something wholly irresponsible and wicked, she was determined to succeed. She was never one to do things by halves.

“I won’t wed again. Before I spend my life alone, I want to be with a man.” She sensed Alex was weakening and ran her hands up his chest. “I want to be with you.”

Lightning cracked and flashed through the gap in the hanging blanket. For an instant, its white light shone on Alex, making him look like the fairy king himself come to work his magic on her. Every young lass in the Western Isles was warned that the fairy king could not be resisted without a special protective charm.

If Glynis had such a charm, she would toss it away.

She let her gaze drop to Alex’s mouth and whispered, “Show me your magic.”

CHAPTER 14

Alex knew it was wrong, but it would take a saint to resist her.

And God knew, he was no saint.

Though he rarely paid for his sins, they would both pay a penance for this. No matter what Glynis said now, she would regret it. And even though he knew that, Alex was helpless against the pull of desire, both hers and his. He had wanted her from the moment he’d seen her collecting shells on the beach at Barra. All he could do was make sure he gave her enough pleasure that the sin might seem worth the cost to her.

But every plan, every thought, every bit of reason left him when his lips met hers. He sank into her, their tongues moving in a slow, passionate dance that left him wanting more. He kissed her eyebrows, her cheeks, beneath her delicate ears. Then he buried his face in her neck and breathed in the smell of her skin.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he moved his hands over her, following the sleek lines of her body. She was like the sea, both mysterious and familiar at once. He wanted to discover every mystery, to know every secret place.

Lust surged through him as Glynis melted in his arms like soft wax. Alex thought he knew women, but he felt as if he was sailing in uncharted waters. And if he fell off the edge of the world, he would not care because no woman had ever felt this good.

He needed to feel her against his skin. He got up on his knees and jerked his shirt over his head. When he tossed it aside, he felt as much as saw her gaze move over his chest in the near darkness. Her gaze dropped further to his staff, which was standing up begging to be noticed. Her lips parted as she stared at him, sending another bolt of lust shooting through him.

“Are ye warm enough to take off your gown?” he asked, trying and failing to keep the note of desperation from his voice.

She gave him a solemn nod. His serious lass.

As he leaned over her and eased her gown up over her long, slender legs, he wondered if he was too young to have his heart give out. She was like a doe, graceful and made for running. He wanted to run with her, to go wherever she would let him.

He lifted her knee and kissed it. It was perfect, like the rest of her. She drew in a sharp breath as he slid his hand up the silky skin of her inner thigh. His mouth followed his hand as he worked his way up, inch by inch, torturing them both. When his fingers brushed the curls between her legs, she jolted.

“Shh,” he soothed her. “I’ll make ye feel good, I will.”

God in Heaven, she was already wet for him. He wanted to bury his face between her legs and taste her, but she had tensed, and he sensed that would be a new experience for her best saved for a wee bit later. For having been married a year, she seemed innocent. But then, some fools never took the time to savor a woman.

Alex intended to savor every inch of Glynis MacNeil until she was weak and sated from their lovemaking. And then he would do it all again.

“Can ye sit up so we can get your gown off the rest of the way?” he said, as he pulled her up.

When she wrapped her arms around him, they fell into deep kisses again, and he found it hard to concentrate on unfastening the hooks at the back of her gown. Finally, he eased the gown up over her head. He pulled her against him again and closed his eyes against the sensation of her soft skin beneath his hands and her breasts pressed against his chest.

They fell back onto the blankets. It was too dark to see her now, but his hands and mouth explored her body. He kissed her breasts, teasing the nipples with his teeth and tongue, then sucking until she whimpered and arched against him.

He moved to lie beside her and kissed her as if he would die if he could not—because he believed he would. She was slick and hot beneath his hand. The little sounds she was making as he touched her were driving him mad with desire. He ached to enter her, to feel her tight around his shaft.

He rolled with her until she lay on top of him. It was too soon, too soon. He tried to catch his breath, to slow himself down. Her heartbeat matched his as he held her tightly against him.

“I want ye inside me,” she said.

Heat surged through him—and he was certain he’d never heard sweeter words in his life. He took hold of her hips to ease her down. Sweat broke out on his forehead as the top of his shaft pressed against her center.

“God in Heaven, ye feel good, Glynis,” he said, closing his eyes.

“We can do it like this?” she asked.

“Have ye never been on top?” What in God’s name had been wrong with her husband?

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Sit up. Aye, like that.” He groaned, and Glynis gasped as she slowly sank down on him. As he held her hips to guide her, he said in a tight voice, “It’s like rocking to the motion of the sea.”

Her ancestors must have been sea nymphs. In no time, she was making him blind with desire. He was mindless of anything except the rhythm of her hips and the feel of her tight around his shaft. Her breathing was already ragged when he ran his hand up her thigh and found her sensitive nub with his thumb. It was too dark to see more than her outline. But over the howling wind, he heard her gasps and whimpers.

Then she fell forward and gripped his shoulders as if she were drowning and he was the only one who could save her. Each sweep of her hair across his chest sent tendrils of sensation to his core.

Lightning struck again, and he felt as if it ran through his body. His every nerve and muscle strained and jangled with mounting tension. When her body clenched around him and she cried out, he was lost in the tempest with her. His heart thundered in his ears as he pulled her hips against him again and again. As if in the distance, he heard his voice calling her name as he exploded inside her.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her so tightly that he knew he was crushing her, but he could not make himself let go. He wanted to stay inside her forever.

How foolish he had been to think that they would not end up like this. From the start, it was inevitable. From that first mindless kiss he gave her on the beach in front of her father and all her clansman. From the night he had her against the wall at Duart Castle, and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Once they met, they were bound to end up lying in each other’s arms like this.

“I didn’t know,” she said against his chest, and he felt the wetness of her tears on his skin. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

Alex hadn’t known, either. In all his experience, he had never felt a need that strong. Never been so completely lost to passion. Glynis MacNeil had caught him completely by surprise.

CHAPTER 15

When Glynis awoke, the sun was shining in a hazy glow through the weave of the blanket that somehow still hung over them. Had last night truly happened? It must have, for Glynis’s imagination was not as good as that. She understood now why women were willing to take Alex Bàn MacDonald into their beds for as long as he was willing to stay.

She risked turning to look at him. Ach, Alex was handsome enough to make the fairies jealous. She let her gaze travel over every perfect, manly feature—the straight nose, high cheekbones, and strong jaw stubbled with golden whiskers. Even in his sleep, his mouth was curved up at the corners, as if he had a wicked secret to tell ye that would make ye laugh.

Her cheeks grew hot as she recalled all the places his mouth had touched her. Three times he had reached for her in the night and made her feel things she’d never felt before.

She had wanted to know passion with a man. Too late, she realized that she might be better off not knowing the pleasures that were possible between a man and a woman. It would certainly be easier to live without them if she were still ignorant. She recalled the bliss she had felt in his arms and sighed.

Nay, she could not regret the night.

* * *

“Tell me about your marriage,” Alex asked.

Glynis turned in his arms, all warm and sleepy-eyed. “Why do ye want to know?”

He shrugged. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

Her eyes, as always, seemed to see right into his lying heart. In truth, he had wanted to ask her about her marriage to Magnus all along. He felt the unfamiliar tug of jealousy over this man who had touched her in all the places he had.

“The two of ye have such animosity toward each other that I figure ye must have cared deeply once.” Alex had learned from his parents how love could turn to hate.

“Hmmph.” She crossed her arms and stared up at the blanket strung above them. “Magnus Clanranald doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

She hadn’t said that she had not cared for Clanranald.

“Magnus doesn’t like to lose his possessions,” she said. “He thought I was one of them.”

“Why did ye leave him?” Alex asked.

“The marriage took place at my family’s castle on Barra, so I didn’t know what was waiting for me at his home.” Glynis was quiet for a long moment before she spoke again. “His mistress was there to greet him, along with a couple of other verra friendly lasses. Magnus made no effort to hide them—and saw no reason he should. He even let his mistress take my place at the table.”

Ach, it sounded too much like his father. But Alex’s mother fought back just as hard in the bitter war between them.

“Magnus is the worst of chieftains,” she said, her voice hard now. “While my father sometimes makes errors in judgment, he always tries to do what is best for our clan. Magnus puts his own interests before his clan’s, always.”

Alex suspected that the true reason she left Magnus was that she didn’t respect him.

“I tried to protect his own clansmen from him, but I couldn’t.” Glynis brushed a tear away with an impatient hand. “I saw him murder one in a fit of temper and another because the man objected to Magnus’s interest in his daughter.”

Alex cupped her cheek with his hand. “Magnus’s temper seemed fixed on you when we saw him at Duart Castle. Did he ever harm ye?”

“No. He knew that if he did, my father would come with his war galleys full of men,” she said. “Magnus didn’t want the trouble—but that was before I stabbed him and left.”

For all Alex’s sins, at least he’d brought Glynis far enough away to be safe from her former husband.

* * *

“Enough of this serious talk.” A slow smile spread over Alex’s face as he leaned over her, and his green eyes danced. “If ye have the strength to make love again before breakfast, I do.”

Letting Alex touch her all over in the dark of night was one thing, but it was broad daylight now.

“Ach, I’m sorry, lass,” he said, frowning. “Did I make ye too sore?”

She was sore, but not that sore.

“We could try other things,” he said, giving her a look so full of sin that it made her pulse flutter.

“I’m all right,” she said, her voice coming out high.

“Then what do ye say, Glynis? In for a penny, in for a pound?” Her breath hitched as he stroked the inside of her thigh. “When ye confess to the priest, the penance is likely to be the same, whether we do it two times or twenty.”

“Twenty times?” Her voice went higher still.

“Have ye changed your mind about this?” Alex asked, his expression suddenly serious. “Just tell me if ye have, and I’ll let ye be.”

“No,” she said. “I just didn’t expect ye to want to do it again.”

“Me not want to?” he said and laughed. Then he got on his knees and started unfastening the blanket from the tree. “It’s stuffy in here.”

Glynis watched the muscles of his back as he stretched to unhook the corners. Besides being able to ask her the most private questions as if he were discussing the weather, the man was completely unselfconscious about his nakedness. But then, he was beautiful.

The blanket fell to the ground, and sunlight washed over him. When he turned, the warm light kissed the skin over his sculpted muscles and glinted off the golden hair on his broad chest. Her gaze drifted downward, and she swallowed when she saw how ready he was to make love again.

“Come, let me see ye,” he said, tugging at the blanket she held to her chest.

She remembered how Magnus ridiculed her, saying her breasts were too small. It was the least of the sins for which he would burn in hell, but the memory stung all the same.

“Can’t we do this without ye looking at me?” she asked.

“Ye aren’t going to be shy now, are ye?” Alex folded his own arms across his chest. “We’ll stop right now if I can’t see. I’ve been looking forward to this for too long.”

“You were expecting me to go to bed with ye all along?” She was horrified.

“Nay, I wasn’t expecting it.” His grin grew wider. “That doesn’t mean I wasn’t imagining ye naked.”

“That’s no the same thing,” she said.

“Of course, I did see ye last night, but the light was verra poor,” he said, making a face.

“My breasts are too small,” she blurted out. Her face was scalding.

“What fool told ye that?” He tugged at the blanket again. “Please, Glynis. I had my hands on ye enough last night to have a fair idea of what your breasts look like. Please.”

It was clear that the man was going to beg until she relented. When he tugged at the blanket again, she let go.

“Ah, lass, my imagination was sorely lacking,” he said. “Ye are as beautiful as the selkies that lure men to their death at sea.”

His words both pleased her and embarrassed her further. “Alex, will ye lie down now?”

Instead, he knelt by her feet and kissed her from her toes upward until his warm lips tickled her knee. Heat pooled in her belly as he moved up her thigh to her hip. By the time he reached her breasts, she was breathless.

He cupped her breasts in his hands. “They are perfect,” he said, his eyes intense on hers. “You’re perfect.”

In the sunlight streaming over them, she watched as he flicked his tongue over her erect nipple. When he took it into his mouth and groaned, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations spiraling through her.

Just when Glynis thought she could not bear it anymore, he moved up to kiss her shoulder and run his tongue into the hollow above her collarbone. He worked his way along the side of her throat to beneath her ear with his warm lips and tongue. She felt as if she were melting into the ground by the time he claimed her mouth again.

With every stroke of his strong hands, he wiped away another bad memory of Magnus touching her. She wanted him to replace every ounce of unpleasantness and humiliation with pleasure and joy. Oh, God, how she wanted him. She wrapped her legs around Alex’s hips, urging him forward.

“I don’t want to rush this time,” he said against her ear. “I’m going to make certain ye don’t forget me too soon, Glynis MacNeil.”

Not likely. She almost laughed, but then her breath caught as his hand moved between her legs. At first, her muscles went all weak as he worked his magic on her. Then the pleasure became a tension building inside her until she thought that she would burst into pieces.

“Please, Alex, please,” she said, pulling at his shoulders.

He hovered over her, teasing her and kissing her senseless until at last he gave in. A high-pitched moan came out of her throat as he finally slid inside her. At last.

Alex seemed to know how to keep her on the edge, moving just so, slow and deep, until she wanted to pound her fists against his chest.

“Harder,” she said, trying not to shout. “Harder.”

“Tell me ye won’t forget me,” he said, as he thrust deep inside her. “Tell me.”

“I won’t forget,” she said between gasps. “I won’t.”

Not for as long as she lived.

Glynis could tell the moment that he lost control because a wildness replaced his skilled movements. He was pure want and need and full of the same joy that she felt. They came together in an explosion of white heat and stars.

But afterward, as she lay beside him staring up at the blue sky above her, the joy seeped from her bit by bit. She realized that Alex MacDonald could hurt in a way that Magnus never could. She’d cared nothing for Magnus. Nay, she despised him. Before their wedding night was over, she had closed her heart to him.

But this was different. She would have to guard her heart closely to keep Alex from walking away with it. He would not intend to take it—he did not want it any more than she wanted to give it to him. But with every wink and smile, he stole a piece of it. And when he made love to her, he held it in his hands.

CHAPTER 16

Alex could not trust himself with this woman. He felt too much. He wanted too much. This was not like him at all.

After several days of making love to her morning, noon, and night, his desire for her had not slacked one whit. In his pride, Alex had thought he would light up the nights for Glynis and give her plenty of pleasure to remember him by. But each time he made love to her, he was as amazed as the first.

As he watched the light of dawn break over the hills and cast a golden glow on her sleeping face, his father’s voice pounded in his head.

Beware of a woman who can grab your soul, for she’ll make your life a misery.

Ge milis am fìon, tha e searbh ri dhìol. The wine is sweet, the paying bitter.

And why was he so determined that she not forget him? He’d never cared before. Nay, he hoped that the women he bedded would forget him and leave him alone when it was over. But Glynis had nothing in common with the easy, laughing, overtly sensuous women he usually bedded. Nay, she was not his usual sort at all.

She was the sort his father had warned him about.

It was lucky for them both that Glynis was barren, for he was a lunatic when he was with her. After telling her he was always careful, he kept forgetting to pull out as he should. Hell, he never even thought of it. He had to get control of himself.

When Glynis opened her eyes and smiled at him, he felt so closed in he couldn’t breathe.

“We’ll have to make better time, or I’ll be late getting to Edinburgh,” Alex said, not that he gave a damn anymore about arriving in time to see Sabine.

He got up from their warm blankets and threw on his clothes. It wasn’t like him to panic and run, but he was desperate to get moving.

“I need to check the snares I set last night before we go,” he said as he strapped on his claymore. They were camped in a wood well below the trail, so she should be safe, and he needed to get away from her to clear his head.

“I’ll pack up,” Glynis said, and Alex heard the hurt in her voice.

“Be careful and stay close to camp.” He crouched beside her and touched her cheek. “Don’t go where ye can be seen from the path.”

Looking into her face, with those big, solemn eyes and that sweet sprinkling of freckles across her nose, Alex could not escape the knowledge that he had corrupted a wholesome lass. The fact that she’d wanted corrupting did not excuse him.

This had been a big mistake.

* * *

Glynis gulped in deep breaths as she rolled up the blankets. She should have expected that Alex would tire of her this quickly. In the midst of saddling Rosebud, she paused to rest her head against the horse’s shoulder. She wanted to blame Alex for the hurt welling up in her chest, but he had tried to warn her that she could not do this lightly. She clenched her fists and told herself that once she was in Edinburgh, she would make herself forget Alex MacDonald.

Since Alex was in such a damned hurry to get there, she wasn’t waiting for him to return to water the horses. The walk down to the small loch where they had taken them last night was a bit longer than she remembered, but it was well hidden by the trees.

After letting the horses drink, she tied them at the edge of the nearby clearing where they could munch on the grass, then she took off her shoes and waded into the water. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and let the sunshine wash over her. She took deep breaths until she felt calmer.

Her eyes flew open as a sudden unease swept over her.

She turned, and her heart dropped to her stomach. Over the tops of the trees, she saw a man up on the path. He was too far away for her to tell if he saw her, too.

Glynis held her breath and forced herself to move slowly out of the water so as not to draw his attention. When she reached the cover of the trees, she paused, listening hard. But she heard nothing except the birds and the breeze in the branches overhead.

She hid behind a thick bush and curled herself into a ball. Would the man look for her? Her heart thudded in her ears as she waited. Please, God, let Alex return soon.

Glynis forgot about the horses until she heard a loud whinny. She scrambled low over the ground until she could see into the clearing where she’d left them.

“Goddamned beast!” A tall warrior with a claymore strapped to his back was trying to grab Rosebud’s rope, but she was snorting and pawing at the air. “I’ll show ye who’s master!”

Glynis watched in horror as the man brought a switch down on Rosebud’s neck again and again. Now both horses were rearing up and straining against their ropes.

She had to do something. There was only one man, and she had surprise on her side. She picked up a hefty stick from the ground. While his back was to her, she should do it. Still, she hesitated, hoping Alex would burst through the trees.

But the horses were frantic, their whinnies like screams in her ears. She couldn’t bear it. Raising the stick over her head with both hands, she ran toward the man.

Argh! With all her might, she whacked him on the back of the head. It made a sickening thud, and he crumpled to the ground. Oh, God, had she killed him?

“Hush, hush.” She tried to soothe the horses. But their eyes rolled back, and they grew wilder still. Glynis felt a prickle at the back of her neck—and suddenly she knew why the horses were still upset.

She screamed and pulled her dirk as she turned. A half dozen warriors had entered the small clearing.

“Stay back!” She stood in front of the horses, holding the bloodied stick in one hand and her dirk in the other.

Her gaze flew from one to another. God, no. She recognized these men. They were members of Magnus’s personal guard.

“We’ve been looking for ye for days.” The one who spoke was Fingall, a huge man with broken teeth who was known for terrorizing the weak among his clansmen. “Magnus sent men in every direction looking for ye, but we got lucky when we came upon some Campbell fishermen who saw ye.”

“We were beginning to wonder if they lied to us about which way ye went,” another of the men said. “But we couldn’t go back and ask them again because we left them all dead.”

This brought a round of laughter from the others.

“Ye murder defenseless fishermen, and ye call yourselves warriors?” Glynis said. “Ye disgust me!”

“Ye always did have a sharp tongue.” Fingall said. “But we’ll soon wear the fight out of ye.”

He signaled to the others, and they all started moving toward her. Behind her, the horses were rearing and whinnying again.

“Magnus wants ye back alive, that’s all,” Fingall said. “We’ll have some fun with ye on the way back.”

* * *

Alex whistled to himself as he walked down the side of the hill through the tall, wet grass. Glynis wasn’t just another woman, but this was just another affair for him. All he’d needed was some time to roam on his own to realize he’d exaggerated it all in his mind. When it came to women, it didn’t pay to think too much.

A scream echoed off the hills and reverberated through his bones.

Glynis.

Alex ran hard for the camp, icy fear coursing through his veins. The camp was empty. Without pausing, he continued running in the direction from which her scream had come.

“Alex!” Glynis screamed his name this time.

His feet pounded down the path toward the lake. He drew his claymore as he burst through the low-hanging trees into the clearing.

The details of the scene before him ticked in his mind in an instant. Glynis, her dirk in one hand, a stick in the other. A body at her feet. Six warriors, their weapons out, in a half circle in front of her. They had Glynis backed up against the horses, who were rearing dangerously close to her.

Alex shouted to draw the men’s attention as he ran straight at them. As he jumped over a log, he threw his first dirk. It caught the man closest to Glynis in the chest and dropped him. Another of the attackers reached for her, and Alex threw his second dirk into the man’s throat.

Four men left. Alex swung his claymore into the one brandishing an axe. When Rosebud reared, he shoved another under her hooves. Red fury pounded through him as he swung his claymore into yet another.

“Move away from the horses before they trample ye!” he shouted at Glynis, as the last man came at him.

Alex pulled another dirk from his boot as he ducked below the swing of the man’s sword. As he came up, he buried the dirk under the man’s rib cage.

The last attacker was down. Alex blew out his breath.

Then Glynis screamed again. When he turned, Alex saw that the man he’d thought was dead when he first came into the clearing had gotten to his feet. Blood poured from a wound on his head as he stumbled toward her. She swung too soon with her dirk.

Alex was running hard toward them as the wounded man caught Glynis’s arm that held her knife. Before the man could pull Glynis in front of him to use her as a shield, Alex skewered the wretch. He pried the dying man’s fingers from Glynis’s wrist and pulled her into his arms.

“Are ye all right, lass?” he asked when he could get the words out.

“Aye,” Glynis said into his shoulder. “They were Magnus’s men.”

Christ have mercy. He never should have left her for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a shaky voice. “I didn’t realize I could be seen from the loch.”

“It’s my fault. I never should have brought ye.” Alex was so accustomed to these sorts of dangers that he hadn’t recognized how foolish it was to take a woman by himself on this journey.

“I did hide,” she said, “but then I saw one of them hurting the horses.”

“O shluagh!” Alex called on the fairies for help. “Ye risked your life for the horses?”

“He was whipping Rosebud.” Glynis leaned back and looked at him with wide eyes. “I only saw the one man at first, and I knew ye hadn’t gone far. As soon as I saw the others, I screamed for ye.”

“What if I hadn’t gotten here in time?” In the blink of an eye, one of those men could have slit her throat or had her on the ground with her gown up to her waist. “Ye are a danger to yourself, woman.”

He was furious with her. And at the same time, he wanted her so badly his teeth ached.

* * *

The hillside was covered with wildflowers, with a few sheep grazing here and there.

“I thought you had tired of me,” Glynis said, in her usual direct way, as she lay in his arms.

After the attack, Alex had brought Glynis straight up to the top of the highest hill where he could see for miles and miles. Once he was certain no one else would surprise them, he’d made love to her first frantically and then quite thoroughly.

“The truth is, I can’t get enough of ye,” Alex said, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip.

There was no point in pretending he could resist her. They would be in Edinburgh in a few days, and it would end. Why deny themselves the pleasure in the meantime?

Alex noted how high the sun was and knew they should be on their way. But the smell of her hair was in his nose and the silk of her skin under his fingertips. So, instead, he watched two hawks soar back and forth against the blue summer sky as he and Glynis talked about the rebellion, the new regent, and whatever else came into their heads.

When Glynis snuggled closer, Alex exhaled a breath and closed his eyes. God help him, he wanted her again. Surely, this could not go on. His desire for her would eventually fade, as it did with every single woman he had ever been with.

In the meantime, he would enjoy the present, as he always did. When he tilted her head up with his finger to kiss her, Glynis’s gray eyes searched his, as if she were trying to see into the heart of a sinner.

But this sinner’s heart was buried far too deep for her to find it.

CHAPTER 17

Edinburgh

Glynis held Alex’s arm tightly as they climbed the cobblestoned High Street through the heart of the city. Bells clanked, and carts rattled by her. Edinburgh was a buzzing hive of activity with people hauling goods up and down the crowded streets.

Unlike the Lowlanders scurrying around her like rabbits, Glynis felt as if she had weights on her feet. As soon as they found her relatives’ house, she and Alex would part. She tried telling herself that she dreaded having him leave her because of the uncertainties ahead—but she was never good at lying.

The High Street followed a ridge through the city like the spine of a sitting dog. Between the buildings, Glynis caught glimpses of an enormous fortress rising from black rock above the city.

“That’s Edinburgh Castle,” Alex said, following her gaze.

“Is that where ye are going to meet the regent and your countess?” she asked.

“She’s no my countess,” Alex said in a clipped tone.

Still, Glynis wondered what it was about the Frenchwoman that could draw Alex all the way to Edinburgh to see her.

“The royals find it is too windy and cold up on the rock,” Alex said, nodding toward the castle. “They prefer the comforts of Holyrood Palace, which is behind us at the other end of the city. That’s where I expect to find the regent—and the countess.”

“Ach, it seems wasteful to have two castles in one city,” she said.

“I fear being sensible is no requirement for being royal,” Alex said, and gave her arm a squeeze. “But if the English attack, the royals will run up the hill to Edinburgh Castle, for it is an impregnable fortress. Ye don’t want to be held prisoner there.”

“Is that where they have Donald Dubh MacDonald?” she asked.

Donald Dubh was the true heir to the Lordship of the Isles. As a child, he was held captive by the Campbells, who were his mother’s family. After he escaped from them, the clans united behind him, and he led a great rebellion.

“Aye, they’ve kept Donald Dubh imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle since they caught him ten years ago,” Alex said. “If it was possible to get him out, whether by force or trickery, the rebels would have done it long ago.”

How she would miss talking with Alex and hearing his stories. At night, after they made love, he would tell her tales as enchanting as any bard’s for as long as she wanted. She would fall asleep to the sound of his voice and wake up in his arms. The memory made her eyes sting.

“What is that horrid smell?” Glynis asked, as she wiped her eye with her sleeve. “It’s so foul it makes my eyes water.”

“Too many people living close together.” Alex pointed to one of the many narrow passages off the High Street. “The buildings are ten and twelve stories high on these passageways that they call closes. Everyone living on the close empties their waste out their doors or windows, and it all flows downhill to the loch below. The loch has no outlet, so the filth of the city stagnates there.”

“That’s disgusting,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“Not so disgusting for the wealthy who live near the High Street, farthest from the loch.” Alex paused in his explanation as he guided her around a man carrying loaves of steaming bread on his head. “As ye go down the closes, those who are better off live on the upper floors, while the poorer souls live on the lower ones. The poorest of the poor live on the ground floor at the base of the hill next to the loch.”

“How do they survive it?” she asked.

“If they are born here, I suppose they are accustomed to it,” he said, “just as we islanders are accustomed to the sound of the sea and the feel of the wind in our faces.”

“Will ye be in the city long?” she couldn’t help asking.

“A couple of days. Only as long as it takes to get an audience with the regent.”

It was fortunate Alex would not be staying. Otherwise, she feared she would behave like all the other women he left wanting more. She’d be weak enough to keep watch for him, hoping to meet him in the most unlikely places. And worse, she’d pray he would miss her and seek her out.

Foolish thoughts! Even if Alex remained in the city, she could never risk continuing the affair. She had allowed herself this one wild folly before settling into her life as a spinster.

“Here is St. Giles,” Alex said, as they came to an enormous church on a square.

Alex had asked after her relatives when he boarded the horses at a tavern near the edge of the city. The tavern keeper told them that her uncle, the priest, was attached to St. Giles and lived close by with his sister.

Alex flipped a coin to a dirty boy begging across the street from the church. “Where can I find the Hume family?”

Alex spoke to the lad in Lowland Scots, which Glynis could understand if it was not spoken too quickly. She did not catch half of the lad’s reply, but he pointed down the close behind him.

“He says it’s the one with the red door, just here,” Alex said.

Glynis tightened her grip on Alex’s arm as they turned into the narrow close. The buildings rose so high on either side that only a sliver of the sky showed between them.

“They can’t see the weather coming,” she said, startled by the notion.

“I suppose they don’t need to know, since they neither farm nor sail,” Alex said.

They stood in front of the impressive red door. Instead of knocking, Alex turned and took both her hands.

“Are ye sure ye want to go in?” he asked.

In truth, she was frightened to death to go inside. But what else could she do after traveling all across Scotland to get here? Crawl home in greater shame than the last time?

When she managed a stiff nod, something flashed in Alex’s eyes that she couldn’t read. Concern? Regret? Before she could be sure, he dropped her hands and banged on the door.

* * *

There was nothing about the house that should make Alex uneasy, and yet he was.

Clearly, it belonged to a prosperous family, and the serving woman who answered the door was clean and respectful. After Alex stated their business, she led them upstairs to a parlor with costly furniture and tapestries.

While they waited for the serving woman to announce their presence, Alex watched Glynis. She was pale as death.

He turned as a plump, middle-aged woman with a pleasant face entered the parlor. Ach, she looked like everyone’s favorite aunt—the sort who always had a smile and a treat in her pocket for a bairn. She halted just inside the doorway, her eyes fixed on Glynis.

“I did not believe it when Bessie told me,” she said, holding her plump hand against her bosom. “But ye look so much like my baby sister that it’s like seeing her ghost.”

When the woman crossed the room and embraced Glynis, Alex noted the contrast between the aunt’s short, rounded figure and Glynis’s slender, graceful body. He stifled a sigh as he recalled running his hands over Glynis’s long, naked limbs.

“I’m your aunt Peg,” the older woman said, as she dabbed at her eyes. “My husband Henry will be overjoyed to meet ye. And I’ll send a lad over to tell your uncle at St. Giles. After all these years, to finally lay eyes on my sister’s child…”

The woman chatted incessantly, but Alex could see no harm in her.

“Is this handsome man your husband?” Peg asked, turning to him with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Nay,” Glynis said with unnecessary force. “This is Alexander MacDonald. He… and his large party, which included several women, escorted me here.”

“So where is your husband then?” Peg asked. “Surely ye are of an age to have one?”

“I was married,” Glynis said, “but…”

“Oh, my dear, ye have been widowed,” Peg said, her face all pinched with concern.

Glynis threw Alex a desperate glance, and he gave her a slight nod to let her know her secret was safe.

“It seems ye will be well cared for here,” Alex said, and the aunt beamed at him. “With your permission, I’ll leave ye now.”

He went to stand in front of Glynis and took her hands. Though there was nothing more he could do for her, he felt unsettled leaving her.

Despite the panic in Glynis’s eyes, she would be fine. She was the most capable and determined woman he’d ever met. This sweet auntie would prove no challenge for a lass who put a blade into one Highland warrior and convinced another to take her across the breadth of Scotland. In a week’s time, Glynis would have this household running like she thought it ought—and the Humes would be the better for it.

No matter what Glynis believed now, Alex was certain she would end up married again. Any man who wanted a wife would be a fool to pass her by. The next time Alex saw her—if he ever saw her again—she would belong to another man.

“I wish ye happy, Glynis,” he said, squeezing her hands. “Ye deserve it.”

“You as well,” she said, her voice a bare whisper.

Since they were not related, it was not proper for him to kiss her cheek. But when had he cared about propriety? He cupped her face and pressed his lips against the soft skin of her cheek for the last time. Despite the foul city air, her hair still smelled of the pine needles they had slept on the night before.

“I’ll miss sleeping with ye,” he whispered in her ear to make her blush.

But that was not all he would miss. For the first time in his life, Alex was close to making a fool of himself over a woman.

He was escaping just in time.

CHAPTER 18

After checking on Rosebud and Buttercup, Alex paid for a bed and a bath at the tavern. An hour later, he was on his way to Holyrood Palace. He tried to pry his mind away from Glynis and focus his thoughts on his meeting with the regent. But he felt on edge, as if he had left Glynis in the hands of pirates instead of her sweet aunt.

Fortunately, Alex was at his best when acting on his instincts. If Connor wanted someone who would plan it all out ahead of time like a chess game, he should have sent Ian or come himself. Alex’s goal was clear: reassure the Crown that his clan did not support the rebellion, while avoiding any specific commitment to fight the rebels.

As for his personal business, he’d lost interest in Sabine’s gift, whatever it was. Still, it had been foolish to arrive on the very last day of July and risk missing her. He had slowed his pace to spend a couple more nights with Glynis.

Ach, he hardly knew himself. And now, he felt irritable that Glynis had made no fuss when he left her. What had he expected? That Glynis would weep and beg for him to stay? There was no point in that.

The guards at the palace gate were MacKenzies, with whom his clan had no current feud, so they let him pass with no difficulty. At the entrance to the palace building, Alex found the Scottish court guarded by Frenchmen. This annoyed him, though he should have expected it. The new regent had spent little time in Scotland and spoke neither Scots nor Gaelic. According to the tavern keeper, the regent had brought a huge entourage with him from France, including jugglers, for God’s sake.