Highland Destiny

by Hunsaker, Laura

  "Aye, lass, I'd like to ken what had you screamin' like a banshee."

  "Oh," she flushed, wondering who else had heard her screams.

  "Please?" It was the softening of his eyes that had Mackenzie telling him the truth. Mostly.

  "Umm...it was mainly about...you..." she looked at her hands again, and fidgeted with her skirts. "You were going to be killed," she whispered it, her lips barely moving with the admission.

  "Look at me," he commanded. She didn't move.

  "Mackenzie?" Her lashes fluttered, but she forced her eyes to remain down. A long finger under her chin tilted her face until she had to look at him. "I'm fine. See?" He spread his arms wide.

  "But you won't be." Now she'd done it. She hadn't meant to tell him this.

  His eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"

  "Nothing. Don't worry about it." Mackenzie tried to play it off. "I'm okay, so thanks for checking on me." She was beginning to feel again. The friendly numbness was nowhere 155

  to be found. She needed him to leave so she could collect herself...or cry.

  "There's something you're no' telling me."

  Why was he so observant? "It was just a dream, Connor."

  Mackenzie stood and tried to step around him, but he stood as well, and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  "What are you hiding from me?"

  "It's not important." Mackenzie swung her hair to hide her face. Connor swept it aside and behind her shoulder, his fingers brushing her neck.

  "If it has you screaming like that, then yes, 'tis."

  His gentle tone made Mackenzie angry, angrier than when he was pushy and arrogant. Why couldn't he just leave it alone? Why did he choose now to be nice and caring? It made her voice sharp, "But you never believe me, so why should this be any different?"

  He stiffened at the bitterness in her tone. "Why wouldn't I believe a dream?"

  "Fine," she snapped. He asked for it. "Sometimes I have dreams that aren't really dreams at all. They're, I don't know, premonitions, or something."

  He sucked in a quick breath, "You have visions?"

  "No. Well, yes. Kinda. It's hard to explain. Like, I've been having the same dream since I was a teenager, but I'm only just now starting to understand it. I think it was about me coming here," she glanced at him before adding, "to your time."

  "What was it, this dream from your childhood?"

  "I think about my marriage to John Campbell."

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  "What makes you think that?"

  "I'm not sure, but it's the only thing that makes sense. I keep seeing myself in a crowded hall, with everyone in costumes, er, I mean gowns, and I'm staring at him. And I know that I'm going to die, and that he's the one who's going to kill me. Yet I walk towards him anyway." She shrugged.

  "That's all."

  "There's more." His eyes were shrewd. Again, Mackenzie wondered why he had to be so damn observant.

  She sighed, "Usually my dreams only predict death. Like when my grandmother died, or my parents, I knew that they were dead before the police told us."

  "Us?"

  "My brother Braden and me."

  "You've a brother? I thought you were an only child."

  "For all intents and purposes, here, I am."

  He ignored that, "So what was in your dream that has you thinking that I will die?"

  Her eyes squinted in concentration. Trying to remember the dream that was becoming less and less real with each passing moment was like trying to look through a dimly lit room. "You were fighting the man with the cold eyes. He had control over fire. I'm not sure what happens...I just know that he will win. Everything we do, bringing me here, it's useless.

  I'm useless." Mackenzie threw her hands up in the air. She was so frustrated. The whole point of being dragged through time was to save Connor and his people, and she couldn't do anything! And now he would die because of her. She had to stop this.

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  "And the man with the cold eyes, this is the Campbell?"

  "I'm not sure. I think so, but I've never seen John Campbell before. This man is tall, blond, blue eyes."

  "That sounds like him. What do you mean when you say he had control over fire?"

  "I don't know. It was like it came from his sword, or his hands, I'm not sure! This is so frustrating!" Her voice rose with her irritation. "It's hard to explain, but I'll dream it again, over and over and over. It never stops until someone dies!"

  She controlled her voice, "The dreams usually have to be pieced together...it takes several before I can really figure it all out."

  "And you ken that this is a vision, rather than simply a nightmare?"

  She snorted, "Last night I dreamt that I was being chased by a giant cheeseburger, so yeah, I can tell the difference."

  "A what?"

  "Never mind. In answer to your question, yes, I know when the dreams are important. They feel real. Even in the dream, they feel real." She ran a hand through her tangled curls and exhaled roughly, "I can't explain it right."

  Connor stared at her without speaking for a moment before asking her, "Will you tell me when you figure out how he controls the fire?"

  "Sure, if you want me to...wait! Seriously? Does this mean you believe me?" Her jaw fell open.

  "Aye, Mackenzie, I do."

  "Really?" And she smiled so widely, her smile blinded him.

  And it fell just as quickly, replaced with suspicion. "Why?"

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  "My mother had visions."

  "Oh. But you still think I am in cahoots with John Campbell."

  "Aye, and I'm truly sorry about that."

  "But you believe that I'm trying to help now." She was trying to understand his thinking.

  "Aye, but I still think that I was set up to abduct you; there is just too much that does no' make sense."

  "Like what? Maybe I can help?"

  Connor didn't answer right away, as if he was trying to decide how much to tell her. "The Campbell's man told me that you two were married last month, and that you are here to help him find a way into my home; to destroy my clan."

  Mackenzie burst into laughter. "Seriously?" she gasped between chuckles. "That is what you think? And I thought I was naive." When she had composed herself, she said, "So does this man have any proof that I was married last month?"

  She couldn't keep the smile off her face.

  "The pendant that you wore; 'tis only given to Campbell brides on their wedding night."

  "And you never thought that the men who brought me here might have stolen it for me?"

  "Nay, I hadn't. But it matters not, because you canna prove you are not what they say."

  "But what if I could prove I am who I say I am?"

  Mackenzie had stepped closer to him in her newfound hope.

  Connor's eyes suddenly had a fevered light in them, "Can you?"

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  Mackenzie thought of her purse, and mentally smacked herself. Duh! The answer had been there all along! She could have saved herself a ton of heartache if she'd thought of it earlier. She smiled and opened her mouth to say that as a matter of fact, she could, when a knock sounded at her door.

  Bronwyn entered with a tray of biscuits and a cup of coffee causing Mackenzie to smile. She and Bronwyn had become friends, despite all the nasty gossip. And for Bronwyn to remember she liked coffee in the afternoon was touching. But Bronwyn jumped as she saw Connor standing in front of Mackenzie.

  "Oh, me Laird! I dinna ken ye'd be in here. Me Lady, here's yer coffee. I'll just be leavin' it on the table here and take my leave." She practically scampered out into the hallway.

  When Mackenzie turned her face back to Connor she was shocked. He was frowning at the door. What was wrong?

  What was he angry about this time?

  "Is everything okay?"

  "When did you last eat?" She hadn't expected that to be the problem.

  Her brow furrowed, "I don't know, breakfast?" It came out as a question; his line of q
uestioning had her confused.

  "And you haven't been eating in the hall at suppertime, have you?"

  "I didn't know I should." Where was he going with this?

  "I doona want you to think you're unwelcome," he murmured.

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  Mackenzie laughed at that. "Connor, I'm just happy that I'm not in the dungeon, or wherever you would keep prisoners."

  "Is that how you think of yourself, as a prisoner?" His blue eyes were intense.

  "You don't?" She challenged.

  "I've no' been verra welcoming, have I?" Connor shook his head to himself.

  "It's okay. I know you don't like me." She shrugged, hoping he wouldn't hear the sadness in her voice. "Don't worry about it. Besides," she smiled, "I'm not cooped up in my room anymore; I get to wander around the castle now.

  It's nice. I like the library." Her smile looked genuine, but it didn't meet her eyes. "But maybe I could go on walks outside?" she hinted.

  He focused on the first part of her comment, "You think I doona like you?" He was surprised, but he said it softly.

  "It's not a big deal. Really." Really, it was. She shrugged again, and looked away.

  "It is to me."

  She looked back at him, "Look, I understand, okay? I'm your ticket to picking a fight or whatever. That's all. I mean, you're barely civil to me, so I get it. I only hope that you will let me go after it's all over."

  "You want to leave?" The surprise on his face was almost comical to Mackenzie.

  "What am I going to do, stay here forever?"

  "You ken I want you."

  Her eyebrows flew up, surprised by his bluntness. "Yes."

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  "And still you think I doona care for you."

  "Lust and love are two very different things." Now what had made her say that?

  "Love?" He arched a brow and she flushed.

  Trying to seem nonchalant, Mackenzie played it off, "It's an expression."

  Connor was quiet for a long time. Long pauses made her nervous and she was about to break the silence when he finally spoke, "It seems I have a lot to apologize for."

  "You? Apologize?" Mackenzie couldn't keep the disbelief from her face.

  Connor looked into her wide shocked eyes and demanded,

  "Come to supper with me tonight."

  Mackenzie was too surprised to do anything but stare. Her mouth may have been hanging open; to be honest, she couldn't tell. He wanted her to go to dinner with him? Was this like a date type of dinner? Or was it an "I feel guilty about keeping you prisoner" type of dinner? Definitely the latter. She doubted that dinner had the same connotation here that it did in her time. She didn't want his sympathy.

  And he was still waiting for an answer.

  "No, thank you." Mackenzie said it as softly and demurely as she could.

  His eyebrows flew up in disbelief. "You'd rather stay in here?"

  "I'd rather not have your pity."

  "Now you think I pity you?" He sounded as if he couldn't decide whether to be amused or annoyed.

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  "You're going to tell me that you don't feel guilty for keeping me trapped here? And that inviting me to dine with you isn't a way to assuage that guilt?"

  "Verily, I am sorry that I have no' been more," he seemed to struggle with the last word, "cordial. Would you give me the pleasure of joining me for supper?"

  "That was very polite, Connor, but still, no."

  "It is entirely maddening to try to hold a conversation with you. Most women would agree to accompany me to dine, and enjoy a pleasant evening."

  "I'm not most women," she said tartly, a little miffed that he wanted her to behave like one of the mindless girls who apparently worshipped at his feet.

  Connor was thoughtful for a second, "Nay, that you're no', are you? Hmm..."

  "And don't expect me to pretend to be."

  He looked surprised that she would jump to that conclusion. "I'd never ask you to change, Mackenzie, it's not your nature. Regardless, would you sup with me?"

  Mackenzie thought for a moment, "You're not going to give up, are you?"

  "Nay."

  She sighed, "All right, let's go." She walked ahead of him, so she didn't see his smile.

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  163

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dinner was a quiet event with just the two of them in a more intimate and formal dining room than the Great Hall.

  Connor sat across from Mackenzie and she enjoyed the food for the first time since she could remember. It was some kind of meat, mutton probably, and an array of potatoes, vegetables and bread. She drank wine, and by the end of dinner was feeling a little tipsy. Mackenzie didn't know how many cups she'd had because her glass had never been empty. And when Connor looked at her over his own glass of wine, it had been easy to pretend that he felt about her the way she felt about him. She knew by now that she was really close to falling in love with him. And as much as it hurt for him to believe the worst in her, she couldn't help her feelings.

  It was like she was on the edge of a cliff and the ground was falling out from under her. To fall would be the easy way; falling in love with Connor. But trying to hold on with the earth crumbling out from under her was so hard. She knew that she was fighting a losing battle by trying to keep her heart out of this. When she looked at him over the table, candles glowing and wine flowing, Mackenzie knew that she would lose that battle tonight.

  Connor asked Mackenzie if she was finished, and came around the table to stand behind Mackenzie's chair. He held her chair as she stood, and then offered his arm to her. She kept his gaze as he led her to the French doors, and they stepped outside.

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  "Walk with me."

  She nodded and kept her eyes on his. They started along the battlement, and wandered slowly, the only sound the swish of her skirts. The weather had gotten much colder than when she'd first arrived in Scotland, but standing next to Connor she didn't feel the cold. All she could feel was the incredible heat coming off his body.

  It had been days since they had had any contact with each other, but if she had hoped time would change her reactions to his proximity, she was wrong. Every time their arms brushed, and where her fingers lightly curled around his bicep, that heat scorched right through to her bones.

  Mackenzie lifted her skirts to climb down the stairs, and shivered as the wind that swept off the water crept up her skirts to her bare legs (she hadn't liked the wool stockings that women here favored, and instead went bare-legged).

  Connor took her hand with his and wrapped his other arm around her waist.

  At first, Mackenzie didn't realize that they had stopped walking, but she felt the wind much stronger on her face now that they were in the courtyard. A sudden arctic blast tore the pins from her hair and whipped it across her face. In a surprisingly tender gesture, Connor caught a few strands and tucked them behind her ear. It unraveled her willpower that much more. When he faced her now, there was no animosity, no anger, there was only hunger. It wasn't the emotion she'd hoped for, but it was enough.

  For now. It would have to be.

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  Whether he saw her willpower crumble, or he would have kissed her anyway, Mackenzie didn't know. But the gentle pressure of his lips on hers was enough to make her forget that she didn't want this. She wanted him, and that was enough. She wanted to forget all of the pain and stress of the past week. As strong as she'd always thought she was, she felt so incredibly fragile, like anything could break her right now. And Connor felt strong, and warm, and real. Would it be so wrong if she took shelter in his solid strength?

  Connor's lips seduced her. They teased hers open and his tongue took over the seduction. First it traced the outline of hers, and she could feel his breath on her lips. It darted in and tangled with hers. She thought she might go insane if he couldn't stop this burning inside her. Finally he braided his hand into her hair and plunged his tongue into her mouth, leaving no doubt as
to what he wanted. His other hand reached down the front of her gown and he rubbed his thumb across her nipple, rolling it into a tight peak. He smiled against her lips at her gasp, and he lowered his head to her breast and flicked his tongue across her tight bead. This time she moaned, and leaned her head back so he could feast more fully on her body. But he withdrew his hand and wrapped his arms around her, once more taking her mouth in a fierce passionate kiss.

  He pressed her against the wall of the castle, and she didn't even feel the cold stones at her back. There was only the heat between the two of them, and the feel of his body against hers. The fever in her veins. When Connor wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her to meet his lips, she 166

  shuddered and forgot how to breathe. He'd lifted her slightly, one hand under her thigh, to grind her against the hard length of his arousal. Mackenzie gasped. She'd had boyfriends before, but none could ever compare with what she felt with Connor. She had always stopped them before it got too far. It wasn't that she was saving herself for marriage, but she just had never felt that spark; like there had been some crucial piece missing in her previous relationships. And she'd never quite understood what that was. Until she'd met Connor. This all-encompassing desire was what she'd been waiting for. And Connor felt it too. She knew he wanted her, and had since that first moment in the meadow. She hoped once more that it would be enough for her, because he had just taken her will and made it his own.

  But Connor pulled back and gazed deeply into her eyes.

  "What?" Mackenzie mouthed; she had no breath for words.

  He smiled slightly and said, "Unless you'd like for me to take you here against the wall in front of God and everyone, mayhap we should go inside."

  Mackenzie turned her startled gaze to the empty courtyard. Truthfully she'd forgotten where they were. "Oh,"

  it seemed anticlimactic, but it was all she could manage.

  His quiet laughter shook her body with his. She could tell that he knew she'd been completely oblivious to their surroundings. Damn him. He could have taken her right up against the wall of the keep and she wouldn't have minded one bit. Oh well, she'd stopped caring about what he thought of her. Her pride had fallen with her willpower at dinner, and it was now enough that he desired her. This place and time 167