Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson #2)

“I hope my kiss brings you all the good luck you wish for.” She kissed the stone and held it out to him.

“Perfect.” He snuck the stone from her hand, carefully set it in the hole then smoothed the dirt back over the top. “It’s also said that a fair lass’s ribbon also brings good luck. I’ll have the one in your hair, if you don’t mind.” He extended a hand. “I need all the good luck I can get at the moment, and particularly for the night ahead.”

“Of course, but I have a feeling you are making up these sayings just as you please.” She unbound the length of red silk loosely woven through her hair and passed it to him. The wind lifted and whipped her golden tresses about her face, the mass of spiral curls bouncing about.

“Maybe, or maybe not, either way you have my thanks.” He rose to his feet, tugged her to hers then brought the ribbon to his nose and breathed deep before tucking the ribbon into his pocket. “It smells of you, like fresh air, sunshine, and wild cherries. It’s also time for that swim.”

“I dinnae have time for a swim. I already told you I cannae come.”

“I won’t take no for an answer. You’re coming whether you like it or not.” He scooped her into his arms and strode with her into the trees.

“Tor, wait.” She struggled in his arms, but he held her tight and she couldn’t get down. “Set me back on my feet. I have much to do this day and swimming with you isnae one of those things.”

“I’m not setting you back down. You also might want to grab your basket of cherries before you lose sight of them.” With a determined step, he marched along the pine-needle covered trail, the canopy a thick leafy green high above.

“Are you always this unreasonable?” She hooked her arms around his neck and struck a look over his shoulder so she could catch the basket up with her skill. With one thought from her mind, she lifted it and sent it swishing through the air and bobbing along beside them. She huffed then nipped his ear. Actually nipped him. She’d never done such a thing to a man before.

He growled, deep in his chest, and fur rippled across his arms, there one moment and gone the next. His golden shifter eyes blazed and his lips lifted in a challenging smile. “I see you wish to tangle with a bear.”

“And I see you wish to tangle with one who holds the ‘power of thought.’ I can tell you now who’ll win the battle.”



“Me.” Tor had no intention of losing any battle with her. From the day he’d arrived through one of Cherub’s portals into this time, Layla had intrigued him. He’d been awed by both her and her ability, his bear always rolling around under his skin whenever she was close and for the past three days while he’d been at the fae village farther along the loch, searching amongst the lasses for his chosen one, something within him had niggled at the distance he’d instilled between himself and the very woman in his arms. That niggle had grown in strength the moment he’d returned and heard from her father that a missive from Nessa had arrived for her. A prophecy, Gregor had told him, and one he’d find of the utmost interest. Holding the woman in his arms closer against his chest, his bear once again surging to the surface, he sensed only a deep need to never let her go. “Are you hiding something from me, Layla? Because if you are, I’m going to find out exactly what it is before this night is done.”

“And what would I possibly have to hide from you?” She crossed her arms with a slap, all while directing the basket of cherries that bobbed along beside them through the air. “Donnan will also be furious to learn I’ve allowed another man to cart me about like this. I am nearly a married woman, which means your behavior right now is totally unacceptable and inappropriate.”

“When I first learnt you were betrothed to Donnan MacDonald, a huge level of frustration flushed through me.”

“Well, I’ve no idea why that would be.” One serious glare came at him.

“Perhaps I should have paid more attention to that frustration than I did, because right now you seem to be the only woman here who I’m continually drawn to. You and only you.” He plowed on along the scrub-lined trail leading deeper into the woods, the pathway meandering upward into the hills high behind the castle. Overhead, birds twittered in their nests and the canopy thickened, blocking almost any and all trace of the late afternoon sun above. “What I feel for you, it’s growing stronger each and every day, Layla. I can’t seem to stay away from you even though I’m supposed to be at the village where my mate most likely resides.”

“You said you cannae sense her there, and I realize your mate is hiding from you, somehow and some way, but that does no’ mean that she is me.”