Ravished by a Highlander (21 page)

Before she could stop it, hope sprang up in Davina’s heart like a wellspring. Hope offered to her by no one else in her life
but by this one man. She did trust Rob, more even than Edward. Could she finally enjoy a life where she was simply Davina
and not heir to the throne—even for a little while? Oh, God, please. Just for a little while. She smiled as she allowed that
hope to spill forth. “Then let us be away.”

As if he’d been standing on the edge of the earth waiting for her and this moment when she surrendered all her fears to him,
he closed the gap between them in two strides and gathered her into his arms. “Before nightfall, we will be lost, Davina.
Ferget yer past and dinna’ look back.”

She clung to him while his lilting burr against her ear sent sparks down her spine. Lost. Lost in his arms, his kiss, his
sometimes brooding, always breathtaking eyes. But what of her duty to England and to her Catholic faith? It might someday
be up to her to uphold everything her father believed. Here it was again, the question she had pondered so many times alone
in St. Christopher’s bell tower. Which life would she choose if the choice were hers to make? “I won’t look back,” she whispered
as their lips met.

“As enticing as your chivalry is, MacGregor—” Breaking the spell between them, Edward cantered his horse forward and cast
Rob an apologetic look. “You must know that the king will never cease searching for her the moment he knows she’s alive.”

“Who is there to tell him, Asher?” Rob put to him curiously, menacingly. “No’ Captain Grant, fer he gave me his word no’ to
speak of her.”

Edward’s horse bucked and neighed beneath him. “If the men who sailed us to Sleat are questioned—”

“They dinna’ know who she is,” Rob reminded him and lifted Davina back into his saddle. “And even if they did, they dinna’
know where we’re goin’.”

“They brought us here!” Edward laughed.

“But we are no’ stayin’ here,” Rob informed him, leaping into the saddle next. “Many know that the MacGregors live on Skye,
but most dinna’ know where. We prefer to keep it that way.”

“Well,” Edward asked, a bit impatiently. “How do we get there?”

Passing them, Will’s devilishly handsome smirk belied the tremor of anxiety marking his voice. “A short ferry ride across
Loch Eishort and a careful trek through the chasm o’ hell, and there we will be.”

Riding up behind Will, Finn laughed and shook his head with bewilderment. “How is it that ye can face a horde of MacPhersons
bent on killing ye, but ye’re afraid of heights?”

Will’s only reply was a quick smack to the back of Finn’s head as the lad passed him.

Davina wasn’t worried about Will’s “chasm of hell.” She’d been there before when Gilles’s men attacked her home, and she lived
through it, thanks to the man behind her who feared nothing—save of course, for a few waves churning beneath his boots. Smiling
at the memory of her brave champion fastened to the ship’s mast, Davina nestled closer against him.

“Is Camlochlin as beautiful as this?” she asked softly, finally taking in the splendor of the waterfall-laden shore coming
into view as they traveled northward.

“No’ yet,” Rob answered close to the ear. “But soon ’twill be.”

A
fter crossing Loch Eishort, Will became increasingly agitated, even snapping at Finn when the lad chatted on endlessly to
Davina about the Vikings who perished there long ago while trying to cross the cliffs of Elgol. Davina found it rather amusing
to watch the self-confident warrior come undone by the landscape. He didn’t bother to conceal his fear, but assured Davina,
while mopping his sweaty brow with his sleeve, that soon she would be clinging to Rob the way a terrified child clings to
its mother.

When they rounded the end of Loch Slapin, following its edge south, Davina understood the cause of Will MacGregor’s anxiety,
for the cliffs, dotted with caves and moss, rose up as high as the heavens and vanished into a hovering mantle of pure white
mist.

“You don’t expect us to cross that on horseback, do you?” Edward groaned, teetering in his saddle as he craned his neck at
the view. “There must be another way.”

“There is; through the hills,” Rob told him with a gentle snap of his reins. “But ’tis the longer way ’round and trust me,
this way is safer if ye dinna’ want an arrow in yer chest. Keep yer horse under yer control. Stay behind me and ye’ll be fine.”

Angling her head around Rob’s shoulder, Davina offered Edward a soothing smile as he reluctantly trotted forward with a pale-faced
Will behind him and Finn at the rear.

“Ye’re no’ afraid, then?”

Aiming her generous smile at Rob, Davina shook her head and then turned to glory in the view. She hadn’t been entirely truthful
with him, for her heart beat madly in her chest. Who wouldn’t be afraid perched at the edge of the world? No dream, nor idle
fancy could ever have prepared her for this place. Breath held, she spread her gaze over the chiseled behemoth of the Cuillins
looming from the clouds across the loch. But she had no more time for fear and with Rob at her side, no more cause for it.

“How high are we going?”

“To the top.”

The urge to clutch his hands to her chest passed as they climbed the narrow precipice above Loch Scavaig, its whitecaps crashing
into the rock face below. She looked down, bending far enough over Rob’s horse to make Will swear at her.

Tossing him a hasty apology, she settled into Rob’s chest and slanted her curious smile at him. “Are you not afraid of falling
into the water?”

“I’ve crossed these ledges too many times to fear fallin’ off them. And I’m no’ afraid of the water. I just prefer my feet
on solid ground.”

“To be certain, you’re a steady, unshakable man, Robert MacGregor.”

He thanked her, and then bent his mouth to her ear when she giggled. “D’ye find fault with those qualities, then, Princess?”

Over the course of their journey together, Rob’s deep, melodic voice had begun to feel as if it were coming from inside her,
rather than from close behind. The touch of his body against her back, the caress of his arms coiled loosely about her waist
had become familiar to her, comforting, and more profoundly intimate than even kissing him felt. She had no idea what kind
of life awaited her beyond this ancient threshold that even Vikings could not penetrate, and though she was excited to begin
living, she did not want the journey to end.

“Of course, I don’t find fault with you, save for if you’re going to call me Princess from now on. But I do believe you could
use a little more pleasure in your life.”

“D’ye now?”

“Yes.” She turned to look up at him fully and was surprised that she could find anything more beautiful than the scenery.
“I would like to help you…” His eyes were the color of the landscape, but infinitely more tender. “… find pleasure.”

“I canna’ wait.” His slow, salacious grin made her burn below her navel and she blushed, realizing too late how shameless
her offer sounded.

Oh, to Hades with pretenses! She could not wait either. She wanted him to kiss her. No, she wanted more than that. She wanted
to surrender all to him and trust him with the outcome. She wanted to get lost in this dream and never ever return. She closed
her eyes and parted her lips, but only his warm breath touched her mouth. “Later, Davina,” he promised huskily. “I must keep
my wits aboot me, else we
will
fall. But later…”

She opened her eyes to his and smiled. “Do I make you lose your wits, then?”

“Och, aye, lass.” He nodded, the truth of his enchantment warm in his eyes. “Ye do.”

It was a haven nestled cozily within purple hills that danced in the spring breeze and jagged mountain ranges swathed in gossamer.
Davina had plenty of time to bask in the awe of Camlochlin as they raced down the ridge from the cliffs and across the heather-lined
glens toward the castle carved from the black mountain behind it. Camlochlin castle was a daunting sight, with its jagged
turrets and armed Highlanders patrolling the walls, but Rob lived there, so Davina knew there must be warmth inside.

Toward the north, all the way to the braes of Bla Bheinn, small cottages and woolly white sheep scampered over the rolling
hills. Frothy whitecaps from Loch Scavaig rolled gently toward the bay of Camas Fhionnairigh from the west, adding soothing
music to the air.

“Rob?” she said as the wind, sweet with the fragrance of heather and peat, whipped back her hair. “If Gilles tries to take
me away from this place, I will kill him myself.”

“Save yer tender sentiments until ye’ve met my aunt.”

She turned and quirked her brow at him. “I thought you said she was very kind and loving… and whatever is tender about me
threatening to kill Gilles?”

“Maggie MacGregor is verra kind and lovin’—to me,” Rob corrected with a grin that made her dizzy enough to swoon a little.
“… and ’tis tender because ye’d kill him fer Camlochlin.”

He made her head spin, but he still didn’t make any sense. She shrugged her shoulders, giving up, and turned back toward the
approaching castle. The doors were opened now and people were stepping out, tilting their heads to the guardsmen above and
then back to the riders. One woman pushed her way through the thickening crowd, shielded her eyes from the sun for a moment
to see if the guardsmen were correct, and then took off at a brisk pace toward them.

“Robbie?” she shouted in a commanding voice that didn’t match her small stature. When she reached them, Davina was first struck
by her beauty, and then by the panic in her vivid blue eyes. “What are ye doing back here? Where is yer father, and why in
blazes are ye traveling with an English soldier?”

Springing from his saddle, Rob stepped into her waiting—though impatient—embrace. “My faither is in England, safe and unharmed.”

The woman visibly relaxed. Apparently, Rob knew what answer she needed to hear first.

“I will explain everything to ye after I’ve—”

“And who might ye be?”

The smile Davina wore faded from her face under the woman’s palpable scrutiny. She could only be Rob’s Aunt Maggie, the spitfire
sister of the Devil MacGregor. Davina didn’t need to take notice of the woman’s petite, slightly hunched frame, for she herself
was not much taller. It was her blunt candor, and the timing of it that, according to Rob when he’d told her of his family
that day in Courlochcraig’s church, sometimes caught folks off guard.

“She is Davina,” Finn answered cheerfully for her as he strode toward them. “And she is a princess,” he added, kissing his
aunt by marriage on her cheek, “so be pleasant to her.”

Davina went pale, but when Finn caught her eye, he flashed his boyish grin. Rob did not look pleased, but he said nothing
to refute Finn’s introduction while he helped Davina dismount. Was he going to tell them all who she was? Why would he? The
probability was more than a little unsettling. It was downright terrifying. The importance of keeping her identity secret
had always been vital to her existence. She wasn’t sure she was ready for it to become common knowledge.

“Where is Jamie?” Rob asked his aunt while she followed Finn with a skeptical scowl over her shoulder.

Maggie cut her caustic gaze to Edward next. “He went to Torrin with Brodie fer…” She snapped her mouth shut and her guilty
gaze crept back to Rob, who was waiting patiently for her to go on. “All right, fer flowers!” she practically snapped at him.

Unfazed by her slight outburst, Rob shook his head in disbelief and uttered a muffled blasphemy. “Will, show the captain inside
and put him in Colin’s room fer now.” When he turned back to his aunt, he seemed to have soothed his temper. “Aunt Maggie,”
he managed to say rather calmly, “yer husband shouldna’ leave the clan unprotected fer flowers.”

“But look around ye, Robbie,” she appealed, stretching out her arms at her sides. “Do ye see any orchids? Ye know they’re
my favorite and when Aileen stopped through here a se’nnight ago with the MacLeods she said the orchids were blooming a deep
shade of purple this year in Torrin.”

“Well, now I understand,” Rob conceded benignly. Davina couldn’t help but smile at him. “Ye’ll tell me aboot the MacLeods
bein’ here after I’ve seen to the clan,” he said, back to being the formidable leader he’d trained his whole life to be. “Fer
now, will ye take Davina to a room and have whatever she wants brought to her?”

“Whatever she wants?” Maggie MacGregor arched a curious black brow at him and folded her arms across her chest. This time,
though, she wouldn’t argue with her brother’s son. She turned instead to Davina, appraising her once again from foot to crown.
She studied Davina’s face with lingering intensity before arriving at some conclusion Davina wasn’t sure fell in her favor.

“Well, come on then, Princess.” Maggie waved her hand at her and turned for the castle.

“Go on, lass,” Rob urged when Davina paused and gave him an anxious look. “I’ll see ye shortly.”

Davina didn’t want to go inside without him. It wasn’t the foreboding castle that made her uncomfortable, but the diminutive
woman in front of her who’d looked over her shoulder in time to see Rob reach for her hand and scowled darker than Rob and
Colin put together.