“Nay, but your lies will set free greater truths, will they not?”
Alan sighed. When his eyes found hers she was startled to see genuine pain in them. A pain completely unrelated to his current moral dilemma. “I can only hope.”
Like her, he kept secret something important. Whatever he withheld had to do with her. “Tell me,” she whispered. “What do you keep from me?”
“I would ask the same,” he replied evenly. “Why were you there when I first awoke on MacLeod land? Aye, you dreamed of me but how did you arrive there. Did Adlin MacLomain bring you or perhaps Iosbail?”
It was so important that she be careful what she told him. Adlin had been most explicit. But as she looked into his concerned deep brown eyes, it was hard to figure out what should and should not be said. If she told him nothing then it stood to reason the prophecy would fulfill itself. Yet if she told him everything…what then? She knew. Adlin had told her.
The MacLomain clan would come to absolute ruin.
But what of Alan’s life? The thought of him dying because of her actions broke Caitriona’s heart. There had to be a way. Perhaps if she told just enough their future would alter. Not so much, however, to harm the MacLomains. Something had to be said…done. Because losing this man was no longer an option.
So she took his hand and whispered, “I shot my Da in the back until he was dead…and that is just for starters.”
Chapter Five
For at least the hundredth time since they’d started out that morn, Alan glanced at Caitriona. And for at the least the hundredth time, she didn’t look back.
There were a lot of things he might have expected of her but that she murdered her Da was not one of them. The lass was a bloody healer after all! But he’d listen to her confession the eve before, heard truths that shocked him. Caitriona had most certainly killed her own Da. And by the sounds of it, he’d needed a good killing. Still, what was it for a wee bairn to do such a thing then have to carry it through life? Better yet, what was it for a mystic, a natural born healer?
He thought of her words, the quiver of her lips when she said them. “I didnae think I could release the bow, that I had the courage. But he had been a traitor and a brute. My Ma didnae deserve his strikes and his clan did not deserve his betrayal. I was standing on the walk above the great hall when he went for Ma again. There was no hesitation,” she said, eyes dry, expression blank. “I aimed true and pulled the bowstring.”
Right through his back into his heart she shot him. It was because of that incident she disliked the castle innards. Because of the events, she and her Ma ended up leaving the Brouns. They were not shunned. In fact, they were made more welcome. Her Da had been a bad man, indeed. But her Ma felt it was not right so they left.
As it turned out, her actions brought into Caitriona’s life not Iosbail, the clan’s matriarch, but her brother Adlin MacLomain. And it was then, with his training, that she learned more about her gift as a mystic.
“So when I started dreaming of you,” she said, “Adlin told me how I might find you. He helped disguise me as a proper lady in waiting for King Edgar’s desired bride for his cousin, Alexander Sinclair. She, of course, was Iosbail MacLomain.”
Alan was completely enthralled at this point. “So you are familiar with the Sinclairs after all.”
“Verra.” The corner of her lip curled up. “I journeyed with their laird across Scotland and time, all the while pretending I was a simple lass born to serve a lady. So you see this adventure we have embarked upon is not my first.”
“It seems not,” he said, still curious. “So did Iosbail ever learn the truth about you?”
“Nay,” Caitriona said softly. “‘Twas a truly terrible thing not sharing. She had become my friend. But I could not tell her if I meant to save you. So you see, sometimes we must lie for a greater good.”
Alan shook his head in awe. Had he ever met a more meddlesome wizard than Adlin MacLomain? Yet in this case he found himself somewhat grateful…and troubled. Adlin had ensured she made it to him and Adlin knew Alan’s part in the prophecy. Anger stirred.
Was the MacLomain so cold he’d lead a lass to her death?
If it meant fulfilling fate, bloody hell he would!
But what a great prophecy this must be if even Iosbail did not sense or recognize it. Strong magic was at play, stronger than most. Alan ran a hand over his face in frustration. Really man, what greater magic was there than that of the gods? Of the god who had delivered it, Fionn Mac Cumhail.
Now as they rode into an ever darkening sky, he wanted Caitriona to look back at him. He needed her to know that they were in this together, that he accepted her for all she was and had been. Alan had not said such the eve before but did hold her through the night. She still kept secrets but had shared many and that was a good start.
When the rain began to fall, William Broun steered his horse alongside Alan’s and they veered off from the others. The lad kept a low, even tone when he spoke, his voice barely audible. “At Loch Lamond I will personally stand guard over Arianna and Caitriona. ‘Twill be I who ensures they make it to you and Stephen. While most ken the love shared between the two, none would guess Arianna would leave and not fulfill her obligation to the clan. She is verra loved and trusted.”
That was clear enough. It seemed by William as well. “I will get them to safety.”
“Can you promise that?” The Broun clansman said caustically. “Granted you know the highlands but you are just one man.”
Alan looked to the west. “I am loyal first to her intended, Iain MacLomain. Believe it or not, his happiness depends on their success. They cannae ever be captured and returned to him.”
Though William seemed surprised he said, “But they can be killed.”
“We all can at any time, even this verra moment.” Alan fingered his blade. “‘Tis a man’s wit and his blade that will keep him alive.”
“And what of magic?”
“I have plenty of that as well.”
“Arianna tells me you are a chieftain but that tells me nothing.”
“It would not if you based it on your own.”
William’s expression remained flat. “So you didnae much like Tamas then?”
“I didnae like him at all.”
The Broun nodded before he steered his horse away. “Then it seems you dinnae just speak of possessing wit but actually have it.”
Alan watched him trot off. Arianna had fine taste in those who she called friend. What risk though, all for the notion of love. As his eyes found Caitriona and he rode toward her the idea of true love struck him a prevalent one. With his fair share of lasses conquered, he knew what attributes he favored in a woman. Caitriona possessed them all plus more he didn’t know he wanted.
She might now hide behind a hooded cloak but he could visualize the touchable contours of her face. The way her silky skin had felt against his and the small sounds of pleasure she could make. Learning her body had been an experience he would not soon forget and intended to repeat often and well. Caitriona’s very nature as a healer made her more receptive than most to the nuances of her flesh.
To kiss and touch her brought him to unfamiliar and addictive places. Alan knew he’d never get enough of her. He also knew he could not lose her. Nevermind Adlin MacLomain, if it meant he had to stand up against every god in existence, he would…anything to keep her alive and in his arms.
When he stopped her horse, Caitriona’s tumultuous brown eyes finally swung his way. He enjoyed how their color shifted to match nature as if she were very much a part of it. Now the clouds darkened and the rain grew heavier. “If I thought the horse could endure it for a long distance, I would have you on mine so I could keep you warm. This—” He wrapped another plaid around her shoulders. “Will help some.”
A small drop settled on her eyelash. “Much thanks.”
He leaned over and gently brushed it away. “You need not thank me, Caitriona. I mean to protect you always.”
> “And I you,” she murmured.
Their gazes held. Power, as though fueled by the storm, surged between them. Whatever truths they still withheld would not stand in the way of them being together. If a mystic and a wizard could not accomplish such, then curse the gods.
“You think dangerous thoughts,” she whispered.
“As do you.”
At last she tore her gaze away. There could be no greater danger than defying their very creators. But they would if need be. And he cared naught if he lost his life trying. As they continued to travel, Alan discovered that he prayed to the very gods he sought to betray. Could the prophecy not be changed? Could they have this life together?
Though the need was strong, Alan did not try to make love to her again over the next several nights. By the time each day of traveling was over the hour was late and exhaustion ensured they slept. Every once in a while they’d meet a clansman along the way but for the most part, the trek had been uneventful and all lives remained intact. The rain lifted on the third day, and sunlight cut across Loch Lamond like lightening over choppy steel. They’d arrived minutes before and already men were diving into the cool, inviting water.
It didn’t matter that the wind blew cold, all were weary and in need of bathing.
Alan helped Caitriona down from her horse. As promised, she had continued to travel without complaint and despite the arduous journey; she appeared as bonnie as ever. He cupped her cheeks to warm them. “How fare your legs. ‘Twas a long stretch on horseback.”
She grasped his tunic loosely while gathering her balance. “A wee bit sore but to be expected. A dip in the loch will be good.”
“Aye.” He grinned. “And as luck has it we are married.”
Not giving her opportunity to question, he grabbed two of their satchels and pulled her after him. This was not his first time to Loch Lamond. Concealment was an easy enough thing to find if one knew where to look. A few minutes later, he led her around a bend and smiled. It was just as he remembered.
“Oh!” She exclaimed. “How did you know this was here?”
Trees bent and twisted down a small hill until they created walls of protection on either side of a small pool of water. Only a sliver of loch was visible between their branches.
“Remember, I am friend to the MacLomains and often traveled this way.”
“‘Tis enchanting” She grinned. “A good place for a lass to have privacy.”
He hopped down the embankment and held up his hand. “You mean a husband and his wife.”
“Nay, I truly meant just a lass.” But she took his proffered hand despite her words.
Alan worked at a frown. “Now what fun is there in that? ‘Tis a spot meant to be enjoyed by two.” He didn’t manage to keep the frown long. “A lad and lass preferably.”
Before she argued any further he pulled off her cloak and set to massaging her shoulders. Any debate she might have given apparently died on her lips. Instead, she released a small groan of delight. The sound, naturally, brought back memories of their night in the tent and how close he’d been to feeling her deepest heat. He whispered in her hair, “Be careful with your sounds. I am not nearly as strong as I look.”
He pressed his arousal against her backside.
Alan expected her to pull away but she surprised him and pushed back. Road weary, tired, whatever her reasons for such an action, it was not something he intended to ignore. In one fluid action, he spun, walked partially into the water and lifted her onto a horizontal tree trunk. A small squeal escaped her lips but she didn’t try to flee.
If she tried to fight him it was pointless as he pulled up her skirts and came between her legs. His plaid and her chemise did nothing to disguise his rampant need. Hungry, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. He didn’t realize until that very moment how much strength it had taken to not take her like this for the last few nights.
Hot and receptive, she returned his kisses, fingers curling into his tunic. Water splashed as she pulled up her knees, drawing him tighter against her damp cleft. Eager, he pushed against her, running his shaft in such a way that she whimpered into his mouth.
Then, as if she realized he was but a tug and a slip away from entering her, she pulled her lips from his and turned her face into his neck, hands twisting deeper into his tunic. “Nay, this cannae happen. Not now. Not like this.”
Alan leaned against her, his breath heavy, his erection throbbing. If there was one thing he was incapable of, it was taking a woman against her will. When it seemed at last he had breath enough to speak he said, “I have never wanted another so much. Tell me what stops you, lass.”
She pulled back and her damp eyes met his. “I fear if I have you then I will lose you.”
“Lose me?” he said softly. “Do you not realize by now that you will never lose me?”
“Aye, but I will,” she whispered and traced his cheekbone with the tip of her finger. “You know little of the way of mystics.”
Confused, he gently caressed her thighs, his need to sooth strong. “Some but not much. What do you speak of?”
Her thoughts weighed heavily in her gaze. “If you take a mystic’s maidenhead, they can no longer protect you. Alan, if you do this I will no longer be able to heal you.”
Was she out of her right mind? He could care less if she could heal him. It was his job to protect her, not the other way around. “Know this, lass. I am a seasoned warrior. When I fight to protect ‘tis not under the pretention that I do so knowing I will be saved. There is no honor in that.”
“As there is no honor in turning away such help when ‘tis available!” she rebuffed. “To take me after what I have told you makes you at the very least, foolhardy.”
“To not take you after what you told me makes me cowardly,” he returned. Aggravated, he pulled away. “You do have a selfish streak, Caitriona Devereux.”
Her eyes popped and she slid into the water. Despite the frigid temperature, she waded in further. “Actually, ‘twas rather unselfish of me to tell you.”
Alan pulled off his tunic and whipped it onto the shore. “You healed me once. For that I am grateful. Do not do so again. ‘Twould only shame me.”
“Now you talk absurdly,” she scoffed. “Like a wounded bairn.”
Brazon! His shy lass had vanished. Alan pulled off his plaid and threw it onshore as well. Despite trying to look away, her traitorous eyes seemed incapable of ignoring his nude form. “But I am no bairn, aye?”
Her delicate throat worked at a swallow and she shook her head even though she said, “Mayhap only on the inside.”
“Exactly where I should be right now,” he growled and waded past her. “Inside of you rather than giving you any further option to heal or not heal me.” Alan dipped beneath the water and surfaced. “Rest assured, next time you will not be given the choice.”
A tad bit slower, she lowered into the water as well, removing her dress once submerged. “‘Tis clear you dinnae take what is refused you,” she commented. “And I fully intend to continue to refuse you.”
Before she could toss aside her garment, he took it and rubbed the material beneath the water to clean it. “There is a saying about the best laid intentions. I wonder if you have heard it.”
After dipping beneath the water, she replied, “That saying was clearly created for one with far less ambition.”
It was impossible not to stare. No lass had ever appeared so beautiful. Sunlight streamed through the thin branches, enabling pockets of hazy light to halo her glistening hair. Her wet skin glowed, its honeyed texture almost more temptation than he could handle. “Never underestimate my own ambition, lass. Had Stephen not interrupted us that night this conversation would not be taking place, eh?”
Her eyes narrowed a fraction. “You dinnae know that with certainty.”
Alan was about to respond when something caught his attention.
Most would think they merely looked at a ripple of water in the breeze. Finger to his lips,
he nodded at Caitriona then lowered further into the water. Alert she backed closer to the tree trunk. Reaching behind him underwater, he broke free a protruding limb then sank beneath the water.
Mere moments before the stranger reached Caitriona, Alan pushed forward and wrapped his arm around the other’s neck. Before the man knew what hit him, the limb was through his throat. Understanding exactly what they intended, he shoved the dead man aside and sprang from the water. As he suspected, two clansmen were already jumping down the embankment.
“Dinnae move!” he said to Caitriona and lunged past her, grabbing his dagger in just enough time to stab the first man.
This gave the second man enough time to swipe a blade across his upper arm. A savage haze settled over Alan’s vision and he kicked his foot hard into the enemy’s knee, bending it backwards. The lad cried in pain and fell back. Meanwhile, Alan pulled his knife free from the first man and pursued a fourth who was now running in the opposite direction.
With two giant leaps, he was up the ledge and after him. Where bravery might not be his, speed afoot certainly was and the enemy gave Alan a good chase. Furious, he picked up his pace and eventually caught the lad. By this time a wee bit o’ beserker was flowing though his veins and needed to be vented. Flinging the man to the ground, he kicked him several times before running the dagger across his throat. Breathing heavily, he stood over him and watched the blood drain from his useless corpse.
Only when Arianna’s words hit his ears did the red haze lift. “Now there is something you dinnae see every day. I ken now what the wee lass sees in you.”
Despite himself, Alan couldn’t help but grin. It wasn’t every day that a lad battled in the nude. He shrugged and winked at her. “‘The view’s only bound to get better as I walk away.”
When he did, Arianna yelled after, “Aye!” She chuckled. “And dinnae worry. We will get your mess picked up. Are there more?”
Alan yelled over his shoulder. “Three. One left alive for questioning.”
Lucky for him the lad was still alive when he returned because Caitriona stood over him, fury in her eyes. When she looked at him concern replaced anger, her tender gaze raked over his arm. “Are you well? Bloody bastards.”
10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 116
