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  “But, lass, ye are here now. And it happens to be me duty to take care of ye.” He hooked his finger under her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. Her breath was starting to come a little faster, and he could feel it as she cracked her lips open slightly.

  As he leaned even closer, he asked nonchalantly, “And would ye care to know how I plan to do it?”

  Her body strained to stay still, resisting him by not responding but yet not moving to push him away either. Her voice was almost a whisper. “Do what?” Were his eyes always this clear?

  His smile started slowly, matching the speed with which he closed the gap between them. “Take care of ye.”

  His lips felt like feathers, barely there, almost tickling her mouth. Her thighs tensed as they pushed her up to meet him, but the more she strained toward him, the less she felt. Her eyes fluttered open. His tongue slowly touched her plump bottom lip.

  “Do ye?” he whispered.

  Her stomach was fluttering as if she were in an elevator that was descending too fast. She heard a drumming in her ears, and the bodice of this dress was suddenly stifling. His lips were millimeters from hers. His breath smelled of mint, making her mouth water. The fog clouding her senses made her forget what he was talking about, so she simply sighed and agreed. “Ok,” she breathed.

  His grin was devilish. She had lost track of the conversation, and now he had the upper hand.

  In less than a second, his lips were covering hers, as she was hoping they would. The minty taste of his tongue was exhilarating as it played a gentle game of war with hers. His fingers wrapped themselves in her long curls, enough to show that for the moment, she was his.

  For the moment, he was taking care of her, as he promised. He was taking care to turn her legs into jelly and her lungs into burning fire. He was taking away the loneliness she did not want to admit to and providing the promise of soothing the aching not only in her chest, but the ache that had started between her legs whenever she knew he was near.

  The warm breeze that was so pleasant just moments ago now felt like an icy winter wind when her eyes fluttered open in confusion to find him sitting on his haunches watching her. Touching her fingers to her lips, they felt moist and swollen, yet cold and empty. She met his gaze. Not sure what she would find.

  He cocked his dark head to the side, giving her a half grin. She noticed that he had a dimple.

  “Was that a good example?”

  The blush came before she could stop it. She said, flustering, “An example of what, exactly?” She stood as quickly as her wobbly legs would allow, brushing imaginary specks from her skirts.

  He stood, no more than three paces away, but her body felt cold without his nearer.

  “Of takin’ care of ye.” His eyes seemed an entire shade brighter than they were before, she noticed. His voice, which was normally so commanding, was softer, coaxing.

  She bit her lip and racked her brain for some obnoxious retort but her mind was empty. She looked around for something to give her a clue to jar her mind into working order when he started laughing. It came as a chuckle at first, and then morphed into a full barrage of husky male laughter.

  “What?” Her spine stiffened. Perhaps he had not enjoyed their kiss as much as she had.

  “Och, lass. I’ll take that as a yes.”

  He turned on his heel, and just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving her standing with her mouth open and her hands clenched. She licked her bottom lip and still tasted mint.

  The laird of Hell’s Gate, the giant Scottish brute, proceeded to woo his wife.

  Chapter 14

  Raine Carson was not a woman accustomed to being the center of attention, but she had to admit, the large Scotsman was making it very difficult to hate it. When she awoke in the mornings, she would find that he had snuck into her room during the darkness of night and placed a bouquet of flowers on her pillow. He managed to appear seemingly out of nowhere or pop out from around a corner just to say “Good morning” and give her a tender kiss on the corner of her mouth, just barely missing her lips. She never knew what to expect when she opened her wardrobe. Stunning dresses, underskirts of silk, sheer stockings, garter belts of the most wicked designs, beautifully handmade kid slippers that fit her feet like a second skin, all at her disposal.

  It had been several weeks since she had been married. He had promised her that he would not force her to perform what he referred to as her “wifely duties” until she was willing. Shaking her head, she gave a small sad grin. He didn’t understand. She was just biding time until she could recite those blasted words at these elusive stones and return to her century. But she had to admit, if she did belong here, if these people were hers, if he was really her husband, she might actually enjoy this.

  Turning the corner of the great hall, she came up short as she hit a very hard object that was not the stone wall of the keep.

  “Oh, excuse me.” It was him.

  He cocked his head. “Smiling, lass?”

  Against her will, upon seeing his handsome face smiling down at her with his large, bronzed arms crossed over his chest, her grin turned into a full smile losing all traces of sadness.

  “Oh, I was just thinking, that’s all.”

  She was twirling the little flower between her fingers that she had found by her place setting this morning when she had meant to take breakfast with her ladies. From the giggling and sly looks from her ladies, they all knew where it had come from.

  He pointed to her hands. “Ye like the smelly little thing then?”

  She laughed. “It doesn’t smell.”

  “Och, I disagree.” He took it from her, and began to lightly rub it along her jawbone. “It smells like yer skin after ye’ve bathed in the river.”

  The little blossom tickled her skin and made it twitch. She turned her head towards his hand, her hand covering his to stop the movement of the feather light touch. His thumb moved along her bottom lip, forcing her to push it out, making it fuller than he had remembered.

  Leith bent only slightly before she was on her toes meeting his lips. Her arms wound themselves around his neck while her hands raked through his dark hair. His hands spanned her waistline which was made even smaller because of the corsets he had given her. They not only made her waist smaller, but they pushed her plump bosom fairly out of her dress when she raised her arms and pressed herself against him as she was doing now. He smiled against her lips. Then opened them.

  She wasn’t sure what had come over her, but it seemed that all she had to do was see him and a strange tingling began in the very recesses of her belly. That tingling took over as it turned to lightning bolts that shot throughout her entire body as his skin touched hers.

  His tongue darted between her lips, parting them for his further exploration. She tasted of strawberry jam, warm and sticky. Her hair smelled of the meadows that he saw her running through with the local children. Her lips were warm and moved over his with a slight urgency, as if she was searching for something deep within his mouth. Her breathing was becoming erratic and hotter on his cheek.

  Putting her slightly away from him, he suckled her plump bottom lip, nipping it lightly. When she tried to step forward to close the gap between them, he stepped back.

  Her cheeks were perfect pink circles, her pupils dilated, and her fingers itched at his forearms.

  He cleared his throat. “My lady, forgive me. We must stop.”

  Her eyebrows creased in confusion. She had no idea of how tempting she was.

  A low rumble of laughter escaped him. “Och, ye would like to continue, lass, wouldn’t ye?”

  She had the grace to blush and looked at her toes, but she still had a death grip on his forearms.

  He flashed his best smile at her. “My lady, if we donna stop now, I will have no recourse but to toss up ye’re beautiful skirts and tup ye right here.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she glanced around the great hall. It was nearing the midday meal and the bustle of activ
ity that she was becoming accustomed to had begun. Although they were in a slight corner of the hall, they were in no way completely shielded.

  He folded her hands against her bosom, kissed each hand, placed one final, warm, kissed on her cheek, and walked towards the giant oak doors of the keep and disappeared into the sunlight.

  Her lips were burning. They were on fire. She reached up to touch them, only to find them wet and swollen and wanting more.

  Had she not just told herself that she was biding time until she could return to her own time and get on with her life in the right century? Then why had she practically turned to jelly when all he had said was two words to her before she threw herself at him?

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and leaned up against the coolness of the stone wall. What was she doing?

  “He’s quite taken with you, you know.” Lady MacGregor couldn’t hide the smile in her voice or the one plastered on her face.

  Raine jumped and spun around. “Oh, Lady. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”

  “Hmm. That was obvious.” She leaned over and wiped Raine’s chin. “He is quite the romantic, isn’t he?”

  Raine blushed and looked away towards the main doors. “He certainly tries.”

  Lady MacGregor took Raine’s hand in the crook of her elbow.

  “Come walk with me a bit, hmm?”

  The two walked together, their large skirts swishing as they walked through the courtyard. Raine had gotten used to the heaviness of the layers of materials and had often forgotten how much she hated dresses.

  Lady MacGregor spoke first. “My dear, how much do you know about the ancient stones and their magic?”

  Raine studied her toes as they took turns peeking out from under her skirts as she walked. She sighed. “I don’t know really anything about them. I told your son how I found them while I was looking for my friend.”

  “The teacher.”

  Raine nodded. “Yes, he was a teacher.”

  Lady MacGregor squinted against the noon day sun. “Our priest, Father Mac, is a teacher too. Or rather, a very learned student, always in his books, always trying to learn something new.”

  She turned and put her hand over Raine’s. “We could learn a lot from each other, you and me. When I was a very young girl, my father took me to see these odd shaped stones. He said they held much magic. The type of magic that was so powerful, the elders warned against ever going near them for fear of misusing it or accidentally causing some kind of horrible catastrophe.”

  Raine gave a short laugh. “That is similar to what I did.”

  Lady MacGregor patted her hand. “He told me, you know. Leith. He told me your explanation of how you came to be here in our land.”

  Raine’s eyes grew large. She hadn’t known that Leith had told anyone of her story, simply because it was such an unbelievable tale.

  “Don’t worry, dear. I know it would seem rather an odd tale to the average person, but you must remember that nothing is odd here. If things were not odd, they would not be normal in Hell’s Gate.”

  Lady MacGregor continued. “Father Mac has a book. It was a book that my grandfather gave to my father, and he gave to me. It is now here, in my son’s library. There’s a picture of you in it. You were standing by the stones. I swear to you that I have seen the stones, and that the image of the girl in my father’s book is you.”

  Raine stopped walking and stared at her. “How can it be a drawing of me? That’s impossible.” After a moment, she peeped, “Do you know how to send me home?”

  She held her breath.

  The older lady smiled sadly. “Alas, child, I don’t remember the words. But I know that during the solstice, winter or summer, those rocks are no more rocks than I am. They are magic! Pure magic, capable of doing many things. The elders tried to harness the magic, or at least tame it. But through time, the people lost interest and the pages of knowledge have become erased.”

  “I know the words.” Raine whispered.

  Lady MacGregor stilled. “If you know the words, and I know the location of the stones, you might be able to lock into the magic of the elders and find your way back to you home.”

  Raine frowned, biting her nail. She nodded. “He won’t take me.”

  Lady MacGregor smiled sadly. “He wants his wife. He wants children. You provide him with a way to possess both. He is not eager to lose them.”

  “I am not a brood mare to be set upon and deliver offspring to the Laird just because he wills it so,” she huffed.

  The lady laughed and slapped her thigh. “You sound like a true Scotswoman, you do.” She laughed again.

  Raine couldn’t help but laugh with her. She was right. It was difficult not to pick up the habits and language of the people you were with all day long. All she was missing was the accent.

  After sobering, she asked, “What will he do when I am gone? I mean, what will he tell everyone?”

  Lady MacGregor sighed and turned toward the keep. Softly she replied, “He will tell them that you have departed. Don’t fret, child, they will understand. All know you are not of our land.”

  “But what about the curse?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “What of it? If you are not here to lift it, it is not of your concern.”

  “But –“

  “But what, lass?" For someone who thinks about rocks more than she does her own happiness, you seem a bit worried about things not of your affair.”

  Raine frowned. “What does the curse say?”

  When there was no answer, she pressed. “Please tell me, Lady.”

  They walked a few more steps to the table where Lady MacGregor stopped and spread out her skirts. “My feet need to rest awhile.”

  They sat for a few moments, enjoying the warmth of the day and watching the servants going to and fro.

  “Listen carefully child, because it is not a pretty tale, and I do not wish to repeat it.”

  Raine sat up straight.

  “Hell’s Gate was not always such. The rivers ran clean and clear. There was the smell of roasted meat in the air all day long.” Her eyes scanned the horizon. “And the children. There were more children than I could count.”

  She smiled at the memories. Then her smile faded. “Then Alisdair came.”

  “Leith’s cousin?”

  The Lady glanced at her. “The same. His chase of you and intended punishment is just a taste of what he is capable of. He is the son of my beloved sister, may the Lord bless her, but he is his father’s son through to the bone. He was always such a loving child. But children grow up and when they do, they change and sometimes that change is for the worse. He wanted these lands, but his father did not have the wealth that my husband did. Alisdair was awarded a few hundred acres to the north of here. Unfortunately, that was not enough. He and his blackguards raid our borders, kill our tenants, and massacre our livestock. The women are losing their husbands, the children have no fathers.” Her voice was soft as she continued. “The curse, in my opinion, is Alisdair. He has brought fear and hatred to this land. He steals the water by damming it so that no one else can use it.”

  Raine asked, “Can’t Leith just tell the Queen?”

  Lady MacGregor gave a short laugh and looked at her. “Is it so easy in your land? Here we must settle our own disputes. No, the Queen will not be bothered with such trifles as to border disputes.”

  “So where does the legend fit in?” inquired Raine. She continued to chew her fingernail.

  Lady MacGregor took her finger out of her mouth and smiled. Raine looked abased. “Bad habit.”

  Lady MacGregor continued, her eyes looking distant. “My father told me that hard times would come upon Hell’s Gate, and that my son’s time as Laird would not be an easy one. There would be strife and battles. The land would become barren, as would the women. But God would not desert us. A woman with hair the color of the sun and from a land far from ours would come one day. She would save the people of Hell’s Gate and r
emove the curse that has been upon us.”

  “But how?” Raine asked, chewing her nail again, frowning. “How am I supposed to convince Alisdair of his wrong doing?”

  Lady MacGregor smiled, and sounding just like her son, answered, “That, lassie, remains to be seen.”

  Chapter 15

  The Laird of Hell’s Gate whistled a tune as he fairly hopped along the trail that led to the old shed he and Raine had used to avoid the storm that day. He stopped whistling long enough to smile as the thoughts of what had transpired betwixt them teased his memory – and his groin.

  He gave a small laugh to himself, and stooped down to pick a few wildflowers and added them to the bunch he was carrying. This was the best part of his land for picking flowers. The sun shone and the rains watered it frequently. The colorful little buds could be seen covering the hills with their silky petals for miles.

  As he admired his handiwork of the little bouquet, something moved out of the corner of his eye. He stilled and focused on the horizon. A small blur that could have been a man on a horse was there but now it was gone. A visitor? An enemy?

  He blinked and tried to focus again. His gut was telling him that it was more than just a hallucination caused by the sun. He would send out riders just in case.

  In the meanwhile, he smiled to himself, he had flowers to deliver.

  He found Raine in the sitting room with her ladies. They were working on their embroidery, and one was teaching Raine how to stitch. He cleared his throat from the doorway. The ladies came to their feet, curtseying, while Raine remained seated, deep in concentration with her needle working feverishly over the band of material.

  One of the ladies motioned to her, but she didn’t notice.

  “Pssst! My Lady!” she whispered.

  Raine looked up, needle poised.

  “Oh, hi.”

  Leith continued to stare at her, fighting the smile that threatened to break his stern look.

  The ladies remained standing, one still trying to get Raine’s attention, but failing to break through the frustrated determination of his wife. Her fingers jabbed the needle through the material and yanked the thread out much too hard. If she frowned any deeper, her eyebrows would meet the end of her nose.