Highlander's Magic (Highlander Heat #2)

“She needs aid and rest, and I dinnae see you offering any. Quit the black mood.” John bent to her ear. “He’s impossible sometimes.”


“So I’ve learnt.” She winked at John, glad for his camaraderie. “And obstinate, which is something I really need to work on weaning out of him. Do you think it’s achievable?”

“Nay, I’ve been trying to drive his stubbornness from him for years.” He grinned. “Why dinnae you tell me of the future, of this place you’re from? I’m already rather taken with how strong the women are. Your fighting spirit is commendable.”

“Where I come from, women know how to stand up for themselves, and your fighting spirit is rather commendable too.”

“Thank you, lass. ’Tis an interesting concept of a woman standing up for herself. Does a man no’ have to prove what he can offer? I have lands on Argyll, a small parcel, but ’tis all mine if you wish to consider me over my impossible brother.”

“Oooh, you have your own lands? Keep talking. I like the idea of a man with—”

“Enough.” Archie stopped.

“But he has land,” she continued to tease.

“I have more.” To John, he snapped, “Go find your own woman. This one is mine.” He grabbed her, tossed her over his shoulder then stormed along the beach past the moored birlinns. She giggled, enjoying his strong-arm attention even though she shouldn’t have goaded him to it.

“Hey, where are we going, Mr. Highlander?”

“John can see to our captive.”

“That doesn’t tell me where we’re going. Put me down. I promise I’ll stop teasing you.”

“You’re coming with me. Somewhere private where I can show you exactly how you’re mine.”

“Well, now that sounds even more promising than the lands.”

She bumped along over his shoulder until he reached the seaward entrance of the loch. Carefully, he set her on her feet then hand in hand, they tramped a half mile across the beach to the north. Along the way, Archie collected twigs and driftwood, and after finding a nice sheltered hollow in the dunes, he laid his armful down. With enough wood for a fire, he dug a hole, pulled off the stringy dried bark and over it, struck a small piece of flint with his dirk. Breathing on the sparks, he coaxed them to life. He added wood and brought the fire to a crackling blaze.

“I’m going to catch us something to eat.” He tipped up her chin, planted a hard kiss on her lips. “No’ only do I have land, but I can provide all you’ll ever need.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me.” No, but she didn’t mind if he wished to try. She liked seeing him like this, deep in his element. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“There’s a brook. Wash up then rest.” He unpinned his plaid over his shirt and trews and spread it before the fire. “I willnae be long.”

The stream gurgled into the sea. Washing up sounded wonderful. She ambled along the shore. On her knees, she splashed her face and hands, removing the blood and grime from her skin. MacLean had bleed as she had, their lives tied together. Archie had said they were going to take the man back to Dunyvaig, but more than that, she needed to ensure he handed MacLean over to the king. It was the only way to make sure history remained on course. He had to agree. He’d come so far.

And so had they, together.

From the moment he’d dragged her from the faerie circle, their bond had deepened. Once he’d touched her, kissed her, sent her soaring far beyond her body, she’d longed for him in a way she’d never expected. Their lives were entwined, and with far more than just his wish. He believed her, and she didn’t want to waste a moment of whatever precious time they had left.

A cackle of noise sounded from farther downstream. Archie rounded the corner, splashing through the shallows and swinging a goose by its hind legs. In the depths of the wild, he was in his element. She loved being this close to him, seeing him like this.

“Nice catch.” She patted the spot beside her.

“How are you feeling? Still sore?” He sat, plunged his feet into the water and cleaned the goose.

“I’ll heal.” She kicked off her boots, dipped her feet next to his then leaned her head against his shoulder. “I could sleep for a week after today though.”

“You can if you wish, although in my bed.” His voice was husky and low. “I now have an even greater fear of leaving you behind.” He washed his hands and face as she had done then tugged her to her feet. “Let’s go warm up afore the fire and cook this goose.”

Back at their cozy camp, she tucked herself close to the fire. The sun blazed high, but the wind chilled her. Archie busied himself fashioning a spit. Before long, the meat roasted over the brilliant orange and red flames.

She shouldn’t be enjoying herself this much, not considering how many had lost their lives, and only a few miles away, but they had survived. Islay was safe from MacLean. The villagers would no longer live in fear, and neither would Mary or James.

“You appear deep in thought.” On the tartan, Archie relaxed on his side.