Highland Destiny (15 page)

He stared into her eyes for a very long time before finally stepping back and giving her the breathing room she so desperately needed. Her head was far from clear, but it was clearer without him so close, without his scent in her nose, his hands on her skin. Her breathing was slowing, and she could see that his breathing was almost even as well. She took comfort in the fact that at least she seemed to have the same confusing affect on him as he did on her.

They stood staring into each others' eyes for a while, each looking for the answers to different questions. Eventually Mackenzie found her voice.

"What is it that you want from me?" Her eyes were searching his, looking for some small measure of feeling. If she thought for one second that he cared for her, even in the slightest, she would throw herself into his arms and never look back, damn the consequences. But all Mackenzie saw was that the molten blue of his eyes had cooled to a hard sapphire now, and she knew he didn't think of her that way—

-he just wanted her in his bed.

"Supper will be served in the Hall, I'll fetch you in an hour."

"I'm going down for dinner?" Shock replaced the sadness on her face. Then skepticism. "Why?"

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Mackenzie sagged against the wall and caught her breath, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable contact she would have with Connor in an hour.

Connor replayed the past events in his head as he strode downstairs. When Robbie had told him that Mackenzie was part of the plot to invade his castle, he'd lost it. She had lied to him! She had claimed no knowledge of the Campbell's plans, and he had believed her to be an innocent in all this, but in reality she was central to the plot. He had thought all his men loyal to him, but he'd never once thought the girl he'd stolen from his enemy would be a ruse.

He had always prided himself on being able to read people.

Living by the sword, one found ways to read the smallest changes in expression, the barest hint of deception in one's eyes. He had never doubted Mackenzie's wide sincere gaze.

He didn't like to be wrong, in fact he was rarely ever wrong, but he had been very, very wrong about this girl. And when the clan chief made mistakes, people died. He was very lucky that the man captured had told them of the Campbell's plots.

To think! Mackenzie's abduction had been so easy because it had been a set up! Connor did not like to feel like a fool, and she had without doubt played him for a fool.

So he locked her in her room and tried to forget about her.

But the past few days he'd spent angry at her had been some of the worst of his life. It was the irritating attraction he had for his enemy's woman that was the problem. He'd wanted to barge into her room and demand an explanation.

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When Dougal, his captain, had suggested that they send the amulet back to the Campbell, Connor couldn't admit to himself that he really just wanted an excuse to see Mackenzie again. Which was completely stupid; she was the Campbell's wife, and therefore the enemy. Especially since she had the key role of distracting and seducing Connor. He was grateful that his men had gotten that piece of information from the Campbell's toady so quickly.

So when he had walked into Mackenzie's chambers, he'd really had no intention of bedding another man's wife. But when she had turned her lying emerald green eyes, swimming with tears on him, imploring him to believe her tale, he'd thought,
Why not?
She was here to do just that, so he might as well be in control. It wasn't as if she were a maid. He now knew that to be false.

He'd given in to temptation and kissed her. It had surprised him a little when she had kissed him back so hungrily, but in truth, he found it hard to concentrate on anything when her tongue tangled with his. She seemed eager enough for his kisses, but what he didn't understand was why she kept stopping the inevitable? That was the one complication; he was constantly fighting his attraction to her.

He felt like she had been sent to him to bewitch him. The Campbell had chosen his actress well. It would be a strong man who could resist Mackenzie. It also made her story that much harder to believe as truth.

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Nay, he couldn't believe anything she said.

But when she had answered his questions about the future of the Highlands, she had answered that they would not be free...was that because she was telling the truth, or because she was on the side of the Campbell? He narrowed his eyes as he thought of the plot to invade his castle from the inside out. He'd like to believe that the prisoner was lying, but to what end? It made no sense. The prisoner, named MacAllistair, had said that Mackenzie and the Campbell were already married, and the amulet had further supported the story. Supper would be served in less than an hour, and already a plan was forming; he would get the information he needed from Mackenzie. But first, he would speak to this MacAllistair himself.

When he'd spoken with the Campbell's man, he hadn't learned anything his own men hadn't already found out. In fact, the story told was almost verbatim to what his men had said. He did, however, deduce that the man was lying. About what, he did not know. But he would figure it out. That one flaw gave Connor a slight glimmer of hope that Mackenzie might be telling the truth. He wanted to believe that she had not lied to him. Everything in him wanted to believe that. It 144

The sorcerer Morvern was meticulously sifting through ancient scrolls, reading ancient languages, and praying for a miracle. He feared John Campbell had more than "dabbled" in the black arts that he himself had always avoided.

Gregor hurried into their dark work space. The only light came from several tallow candles scattered about the room.

There were no windows here, no light, only dark. They were not using the rooms set up for them in the tower; that would give them away.

"Father, I think I have found a way to bar the dark magic from entering the MacRae's castle. It is something akin to a protection spell, only rather than protecting one person, it shall protect the whole of his keep."

"Tell me," the firm command belied the frail voice.

"If we use the charm we placed on the amulet, and add a greater amount of rosehips and lavender; it is said to protect a lady. Have you discovered a way to kill him yet?"

"No, my son, the dark arts blind our magicks to him. I have only defensive spells as of yet. So far I can only trap him or freeze him momentarily. Although, mayhap a moment would be all we need?" Morvern trailed off into his own train of thoughts, as happened to a man of his years.

His son interrupted his musings. "Perhaps we can trap him in the amulet somehow?"

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"Aye, father, I shall begin immediately."

"Yes, yes, of course. Let us hasten. I fear that Lord Campbell is a lost cause, and while we cannot save him from himself anymore, we certainly can and must vanquish him."

"But how? His anger at the abduction of his bride-to-be grows with each passing minute. He wants vengeance. If we let him be for much longer, I fear he will try to kill both the MacRae and the girl. Are you sure that he does not know of her true identity?"

"As of yet, no. He has been too focused on the MacRae to investigate into her background. For now, he is satisfied that she is who we say. However, while his anger is directed at Connor MacRae, I would not assume that he will let the Stewart lass live til All Hallows Eve. His heart blackens daily and I fear he will forget his plan and try only for total destruction."

"Then we must protect her while we can, else she will surely feel his wrath." Gregor was uncharacteristically compassionate toward the Stewart lass. He shrewdly guessed what his father had not said, "You have foreseen that she loves the MacRae." It was a statement.

"Aye."

"Did you know that he would attack our carriage that night?"

"Aye, it was inevitable."

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"We told her what was necessary, no more, no less. She will need to think that this was the plan from the start. She needs to fall in love without us prompting her. Do not forget, she is not of our time, her world does not believe in magic and true love is a lost concept. And she needed to remain innocent else Connor MacRae would not trust her, let alone allow himself to love her."

"So if they are destined to love each other, if bringing the two of them together was the plan all along, what of our plan to distract Lord Campbell?"

"He is distracted, is he not? Hell-bent on vengeance, he has momentarily forgotten his plot to use our magicks as a means for his dark purposes."

"Then we had best hurry, Father, for Lord Campbell is not a patient man. He is getting closer each day to using the dark arts to defeat Laird MacRae."

"Then let us cast your protection spell without haste. And we had better pray."

When Connor knocked on Mackenzie's door, he was in a much better mood than before. He didn't want to admit to himself that part of it was the prospect of seeing Mackenzie again. He'd missed her over the past couple of days. He had missed her smile. He had missed her laugh. He had even missed her flash of impatience when he ordered her about.

Connor didn't wait for her to answer his knock, he never did.

Usually, Connor just walked right in. He frowned as he realized that she wasn't too far off the mark at accusing him of allowing her no privacy.

She was sitting in a chair by the fire, with her legs tucked up under her skirts and her arms wrapped around them. She looked over her shoulder at him, stood gracefully, and walked to stand a couple of feet in front of him. Her eyes were blank, on her face she wore a careful expression of neutrality.

Connor didn't like this. Something was wrong. Normally she would have greeted him with a smile, or a heated comment.

He found both her anger and her joy to his liking, in fact he found
her
to his liking,
dammit!
He liked her. He liked how she always had something to say, and how she seemed determined to question everything. While he had not liked to have his orders questioned, even that had become endearing.

And now that he was finally leaning towards believing her, she changed.

It was obvious she must be distancing herself from him, but what he did not understand was why?

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"Shall we?" Connor offered her his arm.

Wordlessly, Mackenzie placed her hand through his arm.

She didn't meet his gaze, instead keeping her face turned forward.

"How are you feeling?" He was worried about her now.

"Well, thank you."

He tried again, "We have a piper tonight; he'll entertain us as we dine."

"That's nice."

Her tone was polite, uninterested, that was all. Where was all the passion, the emotion? Where was
Mackenzie?

Mackenzie had taken the past hour
sans
Connor to re-prioritize herself. Obviously he hadn't believed her crazy tale.

Well, she wasn't sure she believed it yet! But for a moment there, he had looked at her as though she might not be entirely insane, and Mackenzie had pinned all her hopes on the brief flash in his eyes. Unfortunately, he went back to being rational. It hurt having him think those horrid thoughts about her being in league with the bad guys. But it really didn't matter what he thought of her, if he wouldn't believe anything she said, why bother trying anymore, right? So she 150

But numb was okay; she couldn't feel pain when she was numb.

It was a complication that she went up in flames every time he touched her, but maybe she could avoid touching him? Hmm...not likely. Well, she'd just concentrate on getting through dinner, and worry about everything else later, as it came at her. She would live moment-to-moment. It was easier than trying to think ahead; to think of what else the crazy fates were going to throw at her.

It had been what, a week since she'd officially gone insane? Time had become just as meaningless as everything else. She had expended so much energy on hope, and on trying to get Connor to believe her, that she was barely hanging on to her sanity. The instincts for survival were the only things functioning in her overwrought brain, and even those were down to the bare minimum. Eat, sleep, breathe.

Her last go-round with Connor had emotionally drained her, and she was running on empty. So she stared at him balefully, and slipped her arm through his as they walked down the hallway to the stairs.

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