Chapter One

Scotland 1651

Aila MacDuff, racing for her life, felt desperate to the tips of her toes. Frantic to get as far from Inverness as possible, she spurred her bay mare forward. Every few seconds, she looked over her shoulder in hopes no one trailed her. Silently, she prayed then prayed again he wouldn’t follow. Every time she heard the beat of horse’s hooves, her heart leapt to her throat. Cold harsh wind stung her eyes, roared in her ears.

He would come for her; follow her to the ends of the earth unless she could reach the Kinnel Stones before he caught up to her. She gambled on the fact the man would never risk his life by following her into the huge boulders since rumors as well as mystery abounded about them. No one knew for certain what was true. No one wanted to gamble and fail. She’d been riding now for over an hour. All the joints in her body ached. The pins she held her hair in place with were gone, vanished along the hardened trail. Her heart thundered in her throat. What few nips of air she could press into her lungs burned painfully.

Eilig Henderson, the Earl of Gadby, a man with no heart, killed her mate. Aila despised him despite the fact or perhaps because of the circumstance he was her betrothed. The contract was drawn up two days after she was born, before she could say yes or no, not that her father would have allowed her to voice her opinion. The MacDuff wanted to form an alliance with the lowlander, a man who could bring more power and wealth to him. She was his means to do so. The Henderson’s paid dearly for her. Her father thought his daughter would be pleased to become a countess since Eilig was an earl. He also never believed she would fight the marriage. The fact the man was twenty years her senior also didn’t make a bit of difference to the man who sired her. For her father the marriage contract was about what he could gain, never about her happiness. She couldn’t bear the thought of lying beneath a man she loathed as he heaved and grunted over her. While she wasn’t certain exactly about lovemaking, she heard the servants talk.

Aila hated them both, her father as well as the earl.

Two days from Inverness the store of food she brought with her was almost depleted. She still had a half loaf of bread along with a small wheel of cheese. The nights in the forest were terrifying even though she was able to find relatively safe places off the trail to sleep. The first eve of her hasty escape she discovered sleeping with one eye open was just a phrase used. A few hours after she drew her tartan around her shoulders, she was fast asleep awaking with the rising of the sun, pleased she was still a free woman.

Well, at best, the following night’s sleep was elusive for her. Without possessing a mirror to look in, she knew there would be dark circles beneath her eyes as well as forest debris in the wild curls of her vibrant red hair. When she jabbed her fingers through the length, some pine needles along with leaves fell to the ground. If her calculations were right, she would only have to spend one more night in the woods.

The devil I pray that is so.

Once last night when she was tucked neatly beneath a bush, the pounding of hooves passed by her echoing in her ears. Certain the man on the horse was the earl or one of his minions, she scrunched as far into the thorny bush as she could scratching her hands as well as her face. Her heart pounded so loud, she felt certain he would hear. She prayed, too, that her horse would not give her away.

Did Eilig ken where she was headed? He would never think of the Kinnel Stones. Would never believe she might want to live in a different time perhaps even a different century.

Oh god, if he did, her prayers had not been answered.

Craig MacLean, her mate, told her what to do if something happened to him. She cried copious tears, begged him not to confront the earl. He heeded none of her pleads as he told her they had to wed in this lifetime if they were to move on through eternity. If something happened and they did not wed before one of them passed on, they would never see each other again. They did not have the time to marry. Craig was killed before they could do so, before he could claim her or take her virginity. Truthfully, she didn’t understand much of what he told her. Didn’t understand about being his mate for all of time. All she comprehended was that she loved him with all her heart. She didn’t want him to die. Didn’t want to never see her love again.

“Promise me, Aila. Promise that you’ll go to the Kinnel Stones,” Craig said, his voice soft. He kissed her then, lightly on the lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, holding so much promise for their future, a future that would never be. The slight caress was their last.

She tried to savor every second. He pulled away to look at her, framing her face with his large hands. She tried to speak, tried to say the words he wanted to hear. All she could manage was a nod of her head.

“Meet me in the tavern in Inverness close to the castle. You know which one?” Gently, he brushed his lips across her forehead then lower to her lips. She craved for him to make love to her. Desperation flooding her, it seemed she understood this would be the last time she touched him, the last time he stroked her so tenderly. The last time she looked into his beautiful brown eyes.

Again she nodded. She swept her tongue across her lower lip wishing he would deepen the kiss even though she understood the pressing urgency of their situation.

If Eilig found them together, he would kill Craig. The sixth sense, the feeling Craig was going to die swamped her again and again. What Eilig would do to her when he found her, she had no idea. What she did understand is that his retribution would never be pleasant. She pictured herself locked away in an upstairs room in his mansion in Edinburgh.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, coating her lashes with their wetness. Craig kissed her again, a deeper more demanding kiss, one she would have liked more of. She yearned to feel his tongue deep inside her mouth. It wasn’t to be.

“Aila,” he spoke to her again, his hands still holding her head. “When you go to the tavern, bring a small valise as well as food for a three-day ride.” He pulled out a pistol. “There is one bullet. Use it on Eilig if you have to keep him away from you. If I’m not at the tavern, it means your betrothed murdered me. Do you understand what I’m saying?” His dark brown eyes searched her, delved into her as he gazed at her.

“Y-yes, no.” She shook her head, wisps of hair spilled around her face. Angrily, she brushed the long strands from her face.

He smiled; the dimple on one side of his mouth tempted her to touch him. “If I’m not there wait no more than fifteen minutes. Ride to the Kinnel Stones, with luck along with destiny on our side, the stones will take you to the place where I’ll be, my next life. Do you ken?”

Her hand rested on his chest. She sniffed back the moisture wishing she could do this without tears. “I’m afraid.”

“I know you are. What woman wouldn’t be? I wish I could do this with you, sweeting. You ken I cannot. Beyond, in another time, I will be there, waiting for you. Nonetheless, you’ll discover me in a different body. There cannot be two of us.” He paused, looking toward the castle in Inverness. “Take your horse with you through the stones. You will need the little mare when you come out. Trust in your judgment, trust that the stones will take you to the right time for us to reunite. Trust that when you find me you will know it’s me.”

Worried, she was shaking her head. She didn’t understand half of what he told her. “How will I know when I find you? Will you look like you? What will your name be?”

“As to knowing when you find me, well, I suppose you will sense the connection. The feelings will be the same as when you are with me, when you are in my arms. I’m certain I won’t look like me because I will be born of other parents. My name won’t be the same either.”

She rested her head against his chest soaking up the strength of him, his scent, his hard body next to her pressing against her. “I love you.”

“Our love will carry through time. Believe what I’ve told you. Trust in our love.” He squeezed her shoulders. “I must leave. Heed my advice, Aila. Don’t tarry at the tavern more than fifteen minutes. I’m sure the place will be safe for a short time. I doubt the man will ken where we would meet or that after my demise that you would dare defy him. He will expect your complete acquiescence.”

Torn, terrified, afraid to move from the spot where she stood, Aila watched the man she loved while he walked away from her. She understood all too well he would never survive the earl’s men. The Earl of Gadby never played fair. He would kill him. She knew that beyond a doubt. Craig didn’t stand a chance to survive the upcoming encounter.

Aila didn’t know if she possessed the strength to do what Craig asked her to do. What she did understand was that she wasn’t going to go through life the earl’s wife nor would she live through the following years without her mate. The Kinnel Stones were her only option.

Vanquishing her terror would not be an easy task. Riding alone to the Kinnel Stones would be difficult. Nonetheless, the undertaking was something she would do. She didn’t want her love to be disappointed in her.

As expected, Craig did not meet her at the tavern. Now, she wrapped her tartan around her, pulling the fabric close to warm her. She ate the last of the bread along with some of the cheese. With her eyes closed, she wondered what would become of her. She slept an uneasy sleep.

When she woke, morning sunlight filtered softly through the brambles hiding her. Dew covered her cloak. Shivering she searched the small area. Her mare grazed nearby. Bent over at the nearby stream, she splashed cold water on her face before sipping the cool liquid. She filled her leather bag with the water.

Straightening her shoulders, she prepared for the last leg of her journey. Well, she thought this part of her ride would be the end. Whatever happened next would happen. She set her course. Would accept her fate.

What if the stones didn’t send her anywhere? If they didn’t, she would be right back where she started. No, if they didn’t send her someplace different, she would try to ride to Glasgow, perhaps hide out somewhere in a tiny village. The earl would never search over long for her. He would seek someone else for a wife, another means to gain wealth and power.

By the time the sun reached its zenith, she stood in front of the stones. Her back was rigid, her feet planted firmly beneath her. Several deep breaths didn’t give her the courage to walk into the looming monstrosities. Her hands shook. Nay, her entire body shook. All her life she heard stories about people vanishing when they stepped inside those stones. She also heard stories of bad men being sent through to another place and time. Before now she never believed the tall tales. At this point in time, she needed to believe she wouldn’t die when she walked inside the circle of boulders.

“Oh god, dear god…” Slowly, with hesitant steps along with rattling knees and chattering teeth, she walked toward the towering stones. Before she stepped inside, she patted the mare on the nose, whispering to her, more to soothe her nerves than the mares.

“Easy girl, this will all be fine. Nothing will happen to us. You will see.” She didn’t believe her words. It seemed neither did her mare as she balked at entering the eerie scene.

Aila continued to whisper encouraging words. The horse began to move with her, shaking her head as if saying no. Inside, white mist floated around the rocks. At times she could see stones, at other moments she could see nothing except the silver coated fog surrounding her. Chanting sounds swirled around them, women singing seeming to lead the way. From time to time, she felt as if something pushed her, directing her in one direction then another. The scent of jasmine enclosed her, filled her, gave her courage. She didn’t understand. At one moment she felt certain she heard her mate’s voice soothing her, telling her how brave she was calling out to her. She was brave. Would survive as well as prosper with him by her side if only she could find him.

The devil, she didn’t feel brave. There was no courage in her heart. She swallowed hard, wishing for this to be over and done. The songs didn’t end, the mists didn’t cease swirling in waves around her. Wayward strands of hair danced across her face, tickling her nose. She swore, pushing the damp hair behind her ears. As the moments lasted and lasted with no termination in sight, she thought each nerve she possessed would undoubtedly snap.

With her head resting against her horse’s muzzle, she thought this was now the end of her. Tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t want to die here in the white haze. At this desperate moment the silver-white vapor began to clear. Her eyes wide open now she gazed at the open field in front of the Kinnel Stones, dazzling sunlight blinding her. This was the same field where she stood before she entered, fear holding her frozen for a few seconds before she managed to conquer the terror. From this exact spot she willingly walked into the mystery surrounding these giant edifices.

She blinked several times, questions rushing through her head. Was she still in the same time? Had she accomplished nothing by walking into the stones? All this appeared the same to her. The grass seemed longer. Well, that was a stupid thought. The clouds were different. At the moment the sun blazed overhead. In front of her a rabbit hopped across her path. Birds twittered happily in the fields. When she turned back to look at the stones, their giant shadows decorated the earth.

What to do now? Put one foot in front of the other.

The sun would go down in about two hours. She needed to find a place to sleep. Ah, should she travel back to Inverness? No, she could not. If this were still sixteen fifty-one, the earl would find her. Making up her mind, she decided to do as Craig told her, follow her instincts. She would first travel south then toward Glasgow. If nothing else, she would find some way to begin a new life. She lined her cloak as well as her valise with coin. Before she found work, she wouldn’t starve.

I can do this.

Aila sat down on the grass to eat the last remaining cheese. What was this day, still the third day since she left? What was the year? At least she knew she was still in Scotland. To her ears the laugh she emitted did not sound real. This was so ludicrous she couldn’t stop laughing. She laughed until there were tears in her eyes, until the moisture slid down her cheeks, until the laughter turned to raspy giggles then to sobs. Desperate sobs. Finally, she stopped, wiped the wetness from her cheeks. Reality hit home with vengeance.

I’m searching for a man. I don’t know his name or what he looks like. I’m supposed to know when I meet him. Of course, he will also ken the truth about me. Ha!

Bitterness swamped her. How dare that man? How dare the earl take so much from her? Looking to the stones, she thought for a moment life might be more secure if she returned to her time. She assumed that wouldn’t be possible, as she didn’t believe she had a choice in the matter. The power of the stones would rule. Somehow she understood she could never return.

Heading off in the direction she came from, she rode until she thought she should find her favorite bramble bush. It wasn’t to be. She realized as she rode that everything looked different. Yes, this was still forest, still bushes on the sides of the roads. The trail she rode didn’t appear familiar either. This was not the way back to Inverness. Her gut instinct had indeed taken over. Inadvertently, she rode south as she planned. At this time she felt certain she was losing her mind. She was exhausted mentally as well as physically. Anything would be good to eat. She was famished.

Just as she had done before she followed a stream. Dismounting, she resigned herself to another night among the trees. Another night passed. She woke to a slight drizzle coupled with fog that hung low to the ground. For a moment, she thought she might have walked back to the Kinnel Stones. Fear twisted in the pit of her stomach.

Hours later she found an inn, The Black Hound the sign read. Horses were tied in front. Perhaps she would be able to rent a room for the night. She had the coin. In her cloak she rummaged for what she thought would be enough groats to pay for a room along with a meal. She tugged in a deep breath of air staring at the porch then the door. She led her mare around the building to the stable then paid for her keep.

With hesitant steps, she returned to the front door, walked up the steps to the porch. Raucous laughter reverberating from the inside met her, gave her reason for her steps to falter even more as she determinedly set one foot in front of the other. This was another test of her strength, to her courage.

Her heart lodged in her throat. Her breaths were short pants of nothing. This was not a circumstance she would ever look forward to doing again. Craig. Her mate could be inside that room. Might be sitting on a chair sipping a cold glass of ale. He might be one of the men singing and laughing. Dragons churned in her stomach.

She wouldn’t know him if she saw him. He wouldn’t know her if he saw her. What was it Craig told her? A sixth sense would lead her to the man, her mate.

Wiping her sweaty hands on her dress, she reached for the door, pulled on the heavy wood. When she stepped inside, everyone turned to look at her, the men, the barmaids, the man at the bar. The boisterous laughter and conversation rocked to a roaring stop. Silence greeted her. Prickles of seething fears rushed up her spine. She wanted to turn, to run, to hide. Wished to be almost anywhere except here.

While she gulped air, she determinedly set her chin in a haughty position then stepped forward telling herself she needed food, a hot bath as well as a safe place to sleep. More than anything she didn’t wish to sleep on the forest floor again. Each footstep seemed to take longer than the last. Finally, she reached the bar then tugged in a deep breath of ale-scented smoky air so strong she nearly gagged.

“You the new help?” he called out. “Got customers lining up to sample the new girl.”

“No…” She continued to look around her, to search out the faces staring at her. A hand squeezed her fanny. She yelped then jumped away, swatting at the man’s hand. “Stop!”

“You’re going to do real well for yourself here. You’re a looker. Can I be your first?” the man who touched her asked.

The devil, what was he talking about? His leering grin sent another rush of fear up her spine. She pushed exploring male hands away from her. Trembling nerves threatened to make her run. This was not what she expected. She drew more air into her lungs, then, “Stop!” She swatted to no avail. Someone pinched her breast. Cold revulsion swept through her. What the devil did she just walk into?

“You can’t just sashay your pretty backside in here teasing a fellow. You got to give something in return. I’ll take you upstairs. You can give it to me real nice. I’ll not only please you but I’ll pay you.”

No, I don’t.

In a softly spoken voice, she turned to face the men finally understanding what they were asking. “I’m not for sale to any of you. All I want is to spend the night here alone. After that I’ll be on my way.” She hoped they understood what she meant.

They didn’t.

“You can spend your night in my bed, spread your pretty white thighs for me. I’ll pay you more than the other man.”

Oh dear god, she leapt from the frying pan straight into the fire. “No! You’re all wrong about me. I’m not the new girl. Not what you’re thinking.” She shook her head, backing against the bar, holding her arms out in front of her as if the feeble gesture would stop a man from taking what he thought she offered. When she felt the wood bump against her back, she turned to face the man selling drinks.

Hastily, she began to speak. “I’d like a room. I’ve coin. Also want a hot bath along with a meal.” Her hand shook when she clasped the money in her pocket. The coins burned hotly against her skin.

The man stared at her, his eyes hard, accusing eyes. “The men are right. Your coming in here is only going to mean trouble. Why don’t you give them what they want? Don’t need any barroom brawls. Want all my furniture intact come morning. They’ll pay you for your service. You’ll be richer this time tomorrow. I’ll give you a permanent room upstairs.”

“I’m not for sale,” she repeated firmly, at least she thought her voice was strong.  “I just want a room. That’s all. Nothing more. Nothing permanent.” At the moment thoughts of food and a bath vanished out of her mind. Swaying slightly, she was so very exhausted. Aila wasn’t at all certain she could walk up those steps even if given a chance. “I’ve money.”

“The inn is full. There are no more rooms. You should have been here a few hours ago. Lots of travelers this time of year.” His voice was harsher than she thought it should be. He was angry with her. He expected her to work for him.

No rooms? Where would she go? The thought of sleeping on the cold hard ground again left her feeling miserably alone. She didn’t want to go the night without something to put in her rumbling belly. Well, she could certainly buy some food. That would be good. He couldn’t refuse her food.

A hand pressed on the small of her back. The whisper of words caressed her cheek. She felt a shudder of pleasure murmur through her. The scent of man touched her senses. For some reason the sensations floating around her didn’t frighten her nor did they create revulsion in the pit of her stomach. She leaned into the unknown man.

“Play along with me, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. Trust me. You need me.” The man turned her. His length pressed against her, heating her. He was tall, broad of shoulder, handsome as the devil himself. His dark hair fell rakishly across his forehead while his silver-blue eyes flickered as if he shared something amusing with her.

When he smiled warmly at her, his silver blue eyes twinkling, she felt as if she’d been cast into a spell he skillfully wove around her. Felt as if she’d known him forever. Tenderly, his lips found hers, a soft brush of their mouths, the slightest touch of his tongue. He held her buttocks in his hands, cupped pressed her against him. Now the strokes of his tongue were more intense. She moaned. He swept his tongue along her lower lip, tugged with his teeth. She gasped. When she did so, he pushed inside. Craig never did such a thing. The room seemed to turn, spinning around her with dizzying speed. With knees threatening to buckle she clung to his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into him while she felt his muscles ripple.

His hands roamed across her hips finding purchase at her waist. His gaze riveted on her eyes. “I’ve missed you, little darling. Come, let’s get something to eat. I’ll protect you. With me you’ve nothing to worry about.” He turned to the cheering men in the room. He waved his hand in silent salute. “She’s mine. This little lady is mine, all mine. I was looking for her, you see. She must have taken a wrong turn in the road. That is why she was late to our rendezvous.”

He was presupposing as he guided her to a table in the corner. In any case, she didn’t know what to say, as things for her seemed to have been going from bad to worse. She didn’t want to go with this man yet she didn’t believe she had much of a choice. She could hardly stand at the bar while the other men tried to take things she didn’t want to give. Aila had the bizarre thought that she would most likely give this man anything he asked for.

After he made sure she sat near him, he motioned to one of the maids serving the inn. The laughter along with the talk picked up again. With this man’s claim upon her, the men lost interest. His large male hand rested on her thigh as if he took possession of her. She supposed the show was now over. She tugged at his hand. With a low chuckle, he removed it.

Aila watched as a buxom young woman sat on a man’s lap, his hand down the bodice of her gown. The lady laughed, swatting his questing hand away. “Now, Dear, you’ve got to wait ‘til my shift is done.”

He kissed her hard, his hand staying where it was beneath the fabric.

Aila gaped at the pair, her mouth open. She turned to look at the man who brought her to the table. His grin slanted her way felt as if sunshine caressed her face. Trying to adjust to these surrounding she turned away. A sixth sense? This man was nothing like Craig. She would know. Hell, she didn’t.

Panic settling in her stomach, she glanced another look at the man who rescued her. His grin still felt as if sunshine stroked her caressing her intimately. Butterflies in her stomach replaced the dragons. He nodded at the couple who were fondling each other. She wondered what it would be like to have a man touch her so. Heat flooded her face. She pressed cold hands to the fire building on her cheeks.

The devil, she’d never seen anyone so handsome as this man. His eyes glimmered merrily seeming to change from silver to blue. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, his hand on her leg large. She stared at him for the longest time, down his chest back to his mouth then his eyes. Craig wasn’t this beautiful or masculine. Her body flamed to life in much the same way it did when she looked at her mate. Still, this time it seemed to her she flew hotter and higher than ever before. Her breath caught in the back of her throat when he gently squeezed. She jerked. He stroked. His soft chuckle unnerved her. He would take. She wasn’t at all certain she could give. Didn’t think in the end she would have a choice.

This man wasn’t her mate. Couldn’t be. She wouldn’t just walk into the first inn she encountered then find the man she was supposed to spend eternity with sitting at a corner table.

He could be.

No, Craig said I would sense that he was if indeed he was. She couldn’t think straight. She didn’t know what to say. Her body so scorched, she couldn’t sense a thing. All she knew was the heat coupled with the building inferno.

“Two ales,” the man told the barmaid holding up two fingers. “Are you hungry?”

He was laughing at her, knowing she stared at him. He squeezed her thigh. She yelped. His grin grew hotter, brighter.

“Famished,” she croaked.

Heat flared anew; tempest soared. What the devil was he doing to her? He ran his hand the length of her thigh. She should tell him no. She didn’t want to stop him.

“For me or food?” he asked boldly as if he did that sort of thing every day. Not waiting for an answer to the absurd infuriating question, “Bring us bread and cheese, a platter of meat also.” Turning to her, whispering close to her ear, his words tempting her, “We’ll taste each other later.” The tip of his tongue touched her ear. He nipped.

She jumped, her body tingling with reverberating sensations. His hand brazenly moved along her leg.

“You arrogant…” she bit back the words.

Aila wasn’t about to lose out on a free meal by insulting this man further. She didn’t know how long her coin would last. She was hungry—for food, not for him. Furiously angry with the man, she kept that last word she almost uttered behind her teeth.

He cocked a perfectly arched black eyebrow toward the ceiling. His smile broad, he asked “Beast? Is that what you were about to say?”

“Beast,” she agreed her arms crossed in front of her. Bastard was what she meant to say. “Exactly.” She finished with emphasis.

He squeezed again, stroking higher then back to his original resting spot on her leg, every movement of his fingers bringing the fabric of her gown higher. “You should be nicer to your savior,” he told her, his voice deep, darkly smooth, reminding her of slow gliding honey. His smile was bold as well as smug.

She wondered what his lips would feel like pressed tightly against hers instead of the light strokes he sent her way when he first encountered her. Nevertheless, she wasn’t about to let him get away with his smug and arrogant demeanor. “Savior?” she retorted forgetting she wanted to keep him happy at least until she was fed. “How can you call yourself my savior? I was in complete control of this situation.”

God, how she hated the lie. She was anything but in charge. The men would have devoured her whole if this man had not stepped in to the fray.

The way he held his body spoke of superior confidence, even arrogance. She might be inclined to call the posture egotistical.

He tossed her a smoldering look, heating her inside as well as out. Without a moment in the interim, he barked a hoot of laughter. “Whatever you might think, I saved your delicate sweet person from the men in the room who weren’t about to let the new tender morsel that sashayed her pretty little backside into their masculine domain leave without a taste of that sweet delight she inadvertently offered.”

Seeming to put emphasis on his point, he stared at her lips then her breasts as if he wanted to taste her.

Aila squirmed beneath his bold perusal. She’d never encountered a man anything like this one, anyone as bold and brazen assuming the world owed him. Craig wasn’t anything like him. Craig was the only man she’d ever kissed or been close to. Craig never set his hand on her thigh, never caressed her in this way never sent heated shivers pulsing through her body.

She supposed she deserved the scrutiny having done the same to him. Unable to stop her next retort, defiantly she tilted her chin upward once again proclaiming. “I had everything under complete control. I don’t need you.”

“If you say so.” His lips twitched as if amused at her confession.

Clearly, he didn’t believe her. She needed to make certain he would. “I do.”

“Should I leave? You could demonstrate exactly how you would be able to flounce out of the main room without finding yourself upstairs beneath one of these men. The feat would be intriguing to watch. If that were about to happen, I might be persuaded to come to your aid again…perhaps not. Depends on what you might want to offer me in return for my services; one service rendered for another one to be returned in payment.”

He didn’t say the words, his smirk did. He was simply asking her if she wanted him or them. The choice was blatantly obvious. If she had to choose, he won hands down. She understood she was in trouble either way. Only with this man it was blatantly obvious to her that her heart was in trouble here.

The flush of embarrassment rushed to her face needing to let him understand how she felt about his suggestion. “You’re crude. I’m not going to be in any man’s bed.”

“Honest,” he retorted quickly. “I will treat you gently as you deserve to be treated. If I leave you, guaranteed you will find that sweet little hinny of yours in more than one man’s bed this night.”

“I’m a lady. I wouldn’t allow something like that to happen. Wouldn’t allow men to just have their way with me. I won’t allow you to do so either. You’re too presumptuous by far.”

Craig told her too many times to count that her station in life would never stop a man who wanted her from taking what she didn’t offer. Also told her she should always guard her temper. The annoyance she so easily exhibited could garner her a wealth of trouble. While he enjoyed watching her in a rage, most men would not. If she angered them, they would put her in her place. Wherever that was she didn’t know. Craig didn’t tell her. She supposed now that since she was in a different time, she wouldn’t have a station. She was no longer a lady. That fact didn’t bother her at all. If she wasn’t a lady, there would be no expectations about her behavior.

The overconfident man leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest, still grinning, still showing off his even white teeth. She understood he was about to take umbrage as to her claim. “Hmm…a lady with pine needles as well as leaves in her hair. A novel idea indeed,” He squinted, those silver blue eyes at her as if in complete concentration. “Do I see the top of an acorn shell in those bright red strands of hair? Quite the fashion now days, don’t you think? Should we take it to Paris?”

Sucking in air she decided to ignore his comment. Since he baited her, she thought a change of subject might help. So, she blurted the first question that popped into her addlepated head only to immediately regret the query, “What year is this?”

His masculine all-knowing smirk widened before he sat forward, his forearms on the table, his eyes ablaze with laughter, “Are you trying to sidetrack me? Just when the conversation was getting interesting, you ask something so ridiculous that it puts all this conversation to shame. Is this a game to you? What exactly do you play at?”

Yes, she guessed to someone who knew the answer to her query, she would seem crazy. She still wanted to know. At the moment it seemed prudent to her to continue. She tilted her head a bit to the side.

After that to ease the ache of three nights sleeping on the forest floor, she ran her hand along the back of her neck, the soreness increasing with his zealous interrogation. So exhausted, she was having a devil of a time keeping her wits about her or her lashes open. She lifted her shoulders in what she hoped was a devil-may-care shrug. “I was just curious if you knew.”

Again, he hooted with laughter, his eyes alight with amusement. “If I knew? What the devil are you talking about? It’s seventeen fifty-one. The month happens to be March, if you would like to know that also, March first to be exactly precise. The time is…he pulled out a pocket watch, four-thirty-three in the afternoon not morning. Are there any more questions? Within reason or even beyond reason, I’ll be delighted to answer anything you wish to enquire about.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she realized Craig’s ploy worked. The Kinnel Stones took her forward one hundred years to the day. She prayed she would not have to look over her shoulder to make sure her betrothed wasn’t following her. With that thought fear ricocheted through her. Perhaps for her purposes she should allow this man to become her savior in all ways, her protector. In the days to come, she would need one. She was exhausted from traveling alone, from constantly looking over her shoulder, from sleeping on the cold ground.

The barmaid set the tray of food on the table before handing them each a glass of ale. Looking at the food her mouth watered. Her stomach rumbled loudly enough to catch his attention.

“Help yourself,” he said gently, his eyes taking on a soft silver hue appearing concerned for her. “Thought you looked hungry. Understood the hunger wasn’t just for me. The way you kissed me though…could give a man other ideas.”

Refusing to give credence to his unfinished statement, she remained quiet. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Ravenous, she ate until she finally felt satisfied. The food along with the ale was delicious. Replete for the moment, she leaned back.

“When was the last time you ate?”

His question didn’t truly surprise her after the amount of food she just devoured.

Feeling as if the bottom was about to drop, Aila didn’t want to answer so she changed the subject to something more palatable. She didn’t want him to feel responsible for her. Didn’t want any man to feel protective of her until she found her mate. This man was not her mate. He wasn’t anything like Craig. That was who she was looking for; someone who would at least act like the man she loved. Craig didn’t possess any of the characteristics of this particular male. He definitely wasn’t arrogant or over-confident. Craig never wanted to control the situation. He was always pleased to allow her the last say. The man she knew from one hundred years in the past would never kiss a woman he didn’t know. Especially like this man kissed her.

“What is your name?” She thought as long as they were having this strange conversation, she would like to know who she was speaking to.

One of his dark eyebrows tilted upward. He sat back sipping his drink, eyeing her critically as if he heard all her unique convoluted thoughts. “Good question, you go first?”

She didn’t want to answer him. Understood she should. So, she waited for what she wasn’t all that certain.

~ * ~

When the woman stepped through the door of the inn, Kit Stuart knew he’d never seen a woman so beautiful. She was so damn beautiful, his mouth dropped open, his breath caught in the back of his throat while a tiny bit of drool slid from the corner of his mouth. Swiftly, he wiped the moisture away with the back of his hand. For the longest time, she stood framed in the doorway. Midafternoon light set her fiery red hair in glowing flames surrounding delicate features. He wondered if her temperament fit the color of her hair. Understood he’d enjoy her temper. All the men in the room had the same reaction to her beauty as he did. Way too many minutes passed while he stared at her, stared until he was spurred into action by the chatter around him.

Listening to the words he overheard, the lady would end up in someone’s bed tonight. The thought of this woman in another man’s bed was untenable. This evening, he damn well meant to make certain the only bed she slept in was his. The devil, she was tall. Although she was thin, her womanly curves were generous. The way the fabric of her dress curved around her breasts, he could tell the tender white globes would overflow his large hands. The violet shimmer of her eyes also caught his attention, the color unusual. Unique as he believed she would be.

At his first approach, he wasn’t positive how he would handle the primary meeting. Several ideas plummeted through his thoroughly male brain, all of the notions completely sensual. Perhaps he would save her from the lecherous uncouth men in the inn then she would be his. He watched her waver, stagger a bit. Either she was intoxicated or she was exhausted. She stopped briefly. Saw her tilt her tiny chin just so as if she meant to proceed brashly through the sea of men. To get through the pack of male animals wanting her in their bed she would need more than brazenness to succeed. He deliberated about what exactly it was she wanted here.

Kit always treated his lady friends gently, reverently, with the utmost respect. Women were important in all things, even though they were the weaker sex. His heart beat harder than he was used to when he saw a beautiful woman. Of course, he’d never seen the likes of one this dazzling. His gaze drifted over her exquisite features once more. His body hardened with the immediate sizzle of lust. He tugged in a deep breath of air while he continued to stare at this luscious creature.

What the devil was she doing in these parts alone, unescorted? Whoever was responsible for her should lecture her little rear until she couldn’t sit for a week. These were bold thoughts from a man who would never lay an angry hand on a woman’s backside or any other part of her anatomy. In time, he would discover why she was alone. Rushing her to reveal private as well as intimate facts about herself was not in his makeup. He could wait bide his time until she willingly disclosed everything.

During the last month, the Kinnel Stones seemed to call out his name. Comprehending that fact was beyond him. Nevertheless, once or twice a week he made his way north to the stones. He would stopover at this inn, The Black Hound, each time. He didn’t understand why. After he stayed a few nights, riding the area, searching for some elusive being, he would continue on to the McKenna hunting lodge. Perhaps this woman with unusual eyes was the reason for his travel. If she wasn’t the reason, she was definitely a bonus, a windfall he would make the best of.

This week was no different. His parents as well as his siblings thought he was actually bordering on crazy, especially when he couldn’t give them a reason why. His actions puzzled him just as much they did his mother and father. This instance, however, he might find a tiny reward in all the travel. He would have a soft, beautiful woman for the night.

The woman was stunning, her hair a fiery red, her flesh a soft ivory with no apparent freckles. He wouldn’t care if her nose sported a few, as he believed kissing each one would be quite intoxicating. With not even a word from her, she was generating an inferno of need inside him. Her smile twisted his heart in too many different directions to count.

His fingers drummed on the table as he waited for the answer to his question. Even in her state of dishabille, his gaze was drawn to her breasts along with the sweetly seductive lips of hers; moist now with the ale she sipped. His mouth watered to taste every gorgeous inch of her. Beneath his scrutiny she moved slightly. Squirmed might be a better word. Hell, she stared at his mouth then his chest. She gazed lower. The table was in the way of what she seemed to want to see. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind her sightseeing would have stopped at his crotch. Now it was his turn to squirm. He needed a change of direction.

“Believe I asked you your name.”

The woman lifted her delicate shoulders as if she was thinking why not placate this man. “Aila.”

“Beautiful name.” Not as breathtaking as the woman, yet nice enough, “Aila what?” he queried hoping to reap more information than she seemed willing to put forth.

“Why?”

Because, he thought warily, he wanted to know who he was going to make love to this evening. This was his turn to heave his shoulders upward a disgruntled feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Why not?”

This was far too soon for him to give out clues to his intentions for the night ahead. Although he was certain she would figure out his plans in time. There was the question of her willingness even though she eagerly returned the earlier kiss.

Kissing wasn’t making love.

She let out a long puff of air, sending the tiny leaf still attached to one strand of her curly hair near her eyebrow upward for a brief moment. He wanted to pluck the acorn top out of her hair so that he might feel a strand or two. Wished to know if the silken hair would heat his skin. Her gaze turned to the door before she relocated her sights on his mouth. Slowly, she ran her tongue across her full bottom lip, a tiny pink one. His blood was fired and hot, a lightning strike to his loins. He’d never experienced such an intense reaction. If she wasn’t an experienced lady, she was certainly acting like one. At first sight she seemed almost virginal.

“Aila MacDuff,” she eventually told him, her finely sculpted shoulders rising then falling, causing her breasts to sway slightly against the lavender muslin of her gown. Her gaze shifted to her hands that were wrapped around her glass of ale.

“Now.” He leaned forward, compelling her fingers from the glass before clasping them in his hands. They were cold hands, trembling inside his warmth. He looked more closely at her. She seemed to be shivering. He didn’t know what to think. “Was that so hard?”

Visibly she bristled, wrenching her hands back to settle them in her lap. “Your turn.”

He grinned uncertain why exactly he was egging her on. His name around here was no secret. Every man in this room knew he was part of the McKenna clan, second son to Alistair Stuart. He wondered why this woman needed to ask.

“Why should I tell you something you know? Every person in this room kens who I am. That’s why they left you alone when I claimed you.”

Claimed her…he had in a way. She couldn’t possibly be the woman meant for him. He would sense the fact. Houston, his brother, knew the moment he saw Leah. He needed to take care before he did something stupid. His older brother had botched everything up when it came to his mate. At the time, he promised himself that wouldn’t happen to him. Taking this second by second seemed imperative.

Her eyes darkened perceptibly then turned purple with seeming anger. She shook her head, the ragged strands of red hair dancing charmingly around her shoulders. The acorn popped out. One hand emerged from her lap. A shaking finger pointed at him. He felt certain if she could reach him, she’d be prodding him in the chest with that skinny little trembling finger. Damn, the finger wasn’t skinny. No, it was long and slim, her nails clean, rounded smoothly except for one ragged nail. He wanted to taste the tip of each one, sample that part of her, yearned to taste every sweet part of her.

“I dinnae ken your name, you ass.”

For a moment, her language startled him. He sat back, revising his opinion. The unexpected smile erupted on his face, the hoot of laughter coming next. He liked the sound of the swear words coming from behind her saucy but very kissable lips. Still grinning, he watched her breasts sway with her apparent fury, knew at that moment she would be passionate in everything she did.

“Ass?” He sent an eyebrow upward knowing the gesture would irritate her too. Something inside him enjoyed every part of her including the passion, the fury he could so easily provoke.

“Yes!”

She sat back crossing her arms beneath those tempting globes of hers, sending them up toward the heavens. He wondered what color exactly the tips would be. Well, they were high enough the rounded parts peered more openly from the cut of her gown. The corsage wasn’t low; the sweet sight came because of her actions. If he gave her cause for more annoyance, perhaps the crests would show. In that case, he would discern the color. The thought was intriguing.

After a moment of consideration perhaps, he decided, where she was concerned he was an ass. “Everyone in these parts of the highlands knows who I am. You should also know my name.”

“I don’t.”

“Well then, let me introduce myself.”

Before he could finish with the polite, at least he believed his words to be polite, she blurted abruptly, “It’s about time.”

Taken aback, this time he kept his laughter behind his teeth, “Kit Stuart, your savior as well as at your service.”

If he was standing, he would have bowed, instead he nodded his head.

“Was that so hard?” she asked her breasts heaving her chin tilted defiantly her shoulders rigid. “A name is just a name, hardly something to hold behind the owner’s teeth.”

He let his head fall back, hooting with laughter, amused more than he could remember. She was definitely one of a kind. “Eat some more. When you are sated, we will pursue this conversation in a more private atmosphere.”

“I couldn’t eat another bite.” She stared hard at him, her lips thinning perceptively, her eye widening as if she suddenly understood what he was telling her. “Private atmosphere?”

This was where he needed to proceed with caution. “Do you plan to stay in the common area of the inn all night? I can assure you Mr. McIntosh will not allow something so brazen. There are no rooms available for you to rent. I imagined I assumed you would rather stay with me than one of these other men. Perhaps you would like more twigs, as well leaves to adorn your person. Was I wrong?”

“I guess you’re the lesser of the evils I’m presented with at the moment. Another night on the cold ground is not acceptable either. Though I suppose I could try the hayloft.” She stood up so quickly the chair behind her toppled to the ground with a loud bang, garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

After the crash, all eyes turned toward them. She shivered rubbing her hands along her bared arms. Kit held his hand out to her. In the other hand, he clasped her small valise as well as her cape. Aila didn’t appear to know how to proceed. She had the appearance of a trapped animal caught between two opposing forces. Yes, Kit thought she might truly be walking to her destiny. The more time he spent with this elusive creature the more certain he was that in some capacity they would share the next few months together, perhaps longer. One fact for certain flashed into his brain. She would never bore him. The very nature of how she affected his body gave him good reason to set aside any and all notion of acting the gentleman.

Kit had never been stared at in the manner she now looked at him. Yes, he was tall and broad. His buff breeches were tailored specifically for his broad legs, sturdy legs he liked to think. Some of the women he’d seen intimately used other words to describe him. Next to him she felt fragile, uncertain at best. Her features could be described as delicate. Her future now was held in his hands, his rather large hands. He liked that feeling knowing his protection of her would come at a small cost to her.

He would make sure Aila enjoyed the time they would have together. The cottage about a mile from his parents’ house would do fine for her home. He would fix the interior to her liking. Kit enjoyed the idea of her becoming his new mistress. Several weeks ago, he dismissed his mistress in Inverness. She bored him to tears. There was nothing there for him. He didn’t enjoy the day and a half ride just to see her. He’d felt reckless. His need to find something more in life tore at him. As his older brother found his mate, he yearned for the same. Houston and Leah had a child now, a boy who was just turning one. The young lad was also experimenting with shifting.

Well, the time was too soon to make assumptions about Aila. Just because he wanted to be her savior didn’t make him the man who she would travel with through eternity. No, not for one moment in time did he hold the belief she would become more to him. His parents told him he would sense the connection. What he sensed about Aila was that he wanted her now. Tomorrow would be too late. All he felt for this woman was lust.

At the foot of the stairs, she hesitated. While he’d thought earlier that she was so exhausted she wouldn’t be able to walk up those steps, reality seemed to be intruding. The ale along with the food probably helped give her a bit of strength. At the moment, she wavered. He wrapped his arm around her waist supporting her in the endeavor that should have been easy for her.

“Let me help you.” He smiled into her upturned face. “You’re as weak as a newborn kitten.”

She leaned into him, allowing him to ease her way up the stairs. When they finally entered the room, he bade her sit.

“Your bath is ordered along with a bottle of wine. You’ve a few things to tell me tonight if you can remain awake.”

He paced the room, waiting for the hot water to appear. The conversation he intended could be delayed until she was able to refresh herself perhaps, remove the pine needles adorning her hair.

Her gaze followed him while he strode around the room. Occasionally, her stares would linger on the bed. He wasn’t going to sleep on the floor in his room, neither was Aila. He was positive she did not wish to broach that subject this instant.

Before the water arrived, he spoke softly to her. “I’ll return in fifteen minutes. You will answer some of my questions.”

She flashed him a gaze that told him when hell freezes over. He chuckled as he opened the door to servants bringing the steaming hot water. Her eyes widened in seeming pleasure. To know her thoughts circling inside her woman’s brain would delight him.

He would have liked to stay to watch. That would have been too highhanded for even him. Striding down the steps to the common room, he looked over the patrons. The time had grown late. Most of the customers left to go to their homes. A few of the men, who sought favors from the barmaids after the bar closed, lingered.

When he stepped onto the porch, fresh air assailed him. Unable to think of anything to do while he waited for her, he strode around the outskirts of the inn. Having more thoughts about Aila as well as how she got to the inn, he made his way to the stable. His ebony stallion was tethered in one of the stalls. Kit stroked his nose.

Whispering to the horse, “I wonder where she came from as well as where she is going. She is closed up tight.  No matter how different she is she will have to come to trust me. I’ve the sinking suspicion she has no one. What the devil was she doing asking about the year?” He needed the answers, not his suppositions.

He spotted a beautiful bay mare in the stall next to his stallion. Giving his attention to the horse, he stroked her nose.

“It’s the ladies mount,” the stable boy told him as he approached. “She paid me to brush him down then give him his feed.”

Kit nodded, understanding a tiny bit more about the lady. She had some money. He wagered though she didn’t have a lot. “I will pay you when we leave. Whatever you do, don’t accept coin from her.”

“Whatever you say.” The boy shrugged staring after him.

At this time Kit wasn’t all that clear what he wanted concerning Aila. On one hand, he wanted to make certain she would rely on him for all her needs. On the other hand, he did want her to pay for everything, understanding she would run out of funds soon enough if left to her devices. Once that happened, she would lean on him for her support. He didn’t understand his motives.

She needed coin of her own. He didn’t want her to possess one groat. At odds with his thinking, he groaned deeply pounding his hands along his neck to ease the rising stress.

If she had the means, she might leave him. That wouldn’t do at all. After he left the barn, he stared in the direction of the Kinnel Stones. A peculiar tingling washed over him, the sensation rippling through every part, dancing in his head as if there was something he didn’t understand. He turned to the light shining from his room. Her silhouette moved through the space. She had finished her bath.

He supposed the time had come for a confrontation of sorts, speaking plainly to her important. He would bathe first though. The water had seemed verra appealing.

Stopping only to order more hot water, he eagerly two-stepped his way up the stairs. He knocked softly on the door before entering. She stood by the window, dressed in a virginal white nightdress, her fingers rhythmically winding through each other.

“Nervous?” he baited her hoping to see her unique eyes flash with anger, changing color at the same time.

She held her bottom lip beneath her teeth he suspected to stop the soft flesh from trembling. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Of course, wouldn’t you be? This is something I would never do under normal circumstances, sharing a room with a man I don’t know.”

She was right. The situation was anything save normal. “Wouldn’t I be nervous? Hmm…no, I’m not in the least bit anxious to share my room with you. Excited, perhaps aroused might be better terms. In fact, I’m looking forward to the next weeks with you.” He pulled his shirttail from his breeches, his hands now on the fasteners of his breeches. “Especially tonight.”

“What are you doing?”

Ignoring her he walked to the door. More hot water was brought into the room. He waited until the servants left to speak again. “Taking a bath.”

“You can’t! I’ve nowhere to go.”

Her panicked voice reached him. The wide eyes he was coming to adore flashed violet fire.

He turned, thoroughly relishing the moment, understanding what her answer would be. “Why? Certainly you’ve seen a man’s body.” His shirt on the floor he divested himself of his black boots. Ah, he wiggled his freed toes. “Yes, that feels very good.”

“You will be quite naked is why. As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

Her indignation charmed him. She was quite the little actress.

He hooted with laughter. He wasn’t at all certain he believed her. “Never take a bath wearing my clothes. Is that what you would wish?”

Her hands were now fisted tightly, settled on her slender hips. The gesture pulled her virginal gown tight across her breasts. Inwardly, he groaned. He saw the taut hard nipples he thought to uncover later, perhaps not tonight. Nonetheless, he would see all of her soon.

“If you don’t like the look of me naked, you can close your eyes.”

The entire length of him burned with lust for this slip of a woman. Prudence told him she might faint if she witnessed his totally aroused body. “You should go sit by the fire. Your hair should be dry before we go to bed. Wet hair is unpleasant,” he told her his voice gruff with the need the vision of her created in his head.

He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed. Turning his back to her, he divested himself of his clothing. He slipped into the steaming water. A long sigh of pleasure left his lips.

Quickly, he washed then dried. He donned clean clothes before he padded to the chair next to hers.

“You,” she swallowed. “You are not a gentleman.”

“Did you peek?” He chuckled, liking the way her mouth quivered with the statement. She probably didn’t. He felt a nagging need to tease as well as question. “Do I meet with your approval?”

A rosy glow painted her cheeks. She’d closed her eyes for a few seconds while he studied the dark lashes fanned across those bright pink cheeks. She did have a few very faint freckles across the bridge of her nose. The sight was endearing. Before too long he would taste each one.

“No…”

“I think you did. Admit to the deed, tell me you gave into your curiosity and took a quick look at my naked body.” His chuckle was softly teasing. “Did you like what you saw?”

Kit didn’t believe for one instant she would admit to anything. Nonetheless, he wanted to see the spark in those beautiful violet eyes when she denied his accusation. It was easy to see she was not adept at lying.

“You have taken a lot for granted.” Visibly bristling, she told him instead, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on such sweetly kissable lips. He lost all train of thought.

He handed her a glass of wine believing now was the right time to discuss their future, at least tonight into next morning. She should understand exactly what he intended for them. He would love her until they no longer craved each other. “Aila, you’ve no place to stay this night. You should thank me instead of glaring at me as if I’m the devil incarnate. After all, I’m doing you a favor, giving you a room, a bed a bath as well. Oh, I forgot, food along with wine to chase the trail dust away.”

She sighed softly, her breasts moving delightfully beneath the sheer nightgown that did more to reveal than she could possibly be aware of. He was certain she believed the fabric concealed her enchanting female charms. “I know.” She twirled the stem of her glass watching the dark red liquid move within. “I will pay you half the cost of the room. That would only be fair.”

“Don’t want money from you. You can trust me.” Gently, he stroked her cheek then continued the light touch along her neck until his fingers rested on the rapidly beating pulse at the base. He needed to taste. He was pleased with the result of his light caress. “Tell me what you are looking for. Tell me why you’ve never been in this part of Scotland before. If you had been, you would ken my name.”

“No, no…” She was shaking her head. “If I tried to explain my circumstances, you wouldn’t believe me. You would call me a liar or believe me crazy. I cannot. No, no…no…god no.”

“Try me.” Kit felt a very real need to not only coax her into his bed but to also gain her trust. He would try to understand anything she told him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have secrets too. “I won’t judge. I would never consider you to have lost your senses.”

She squirmed pressing the length of her gown down her sides. At the beautiful sight his meager breath caught in the back of his throat. His heart raced. By the expression on her face, he felt sure he wouldn’t like what she was about to say. The next words rushed from her lips. “All I can say is that I’m looking for someone, someone who will be verra dear to me in the ensuing years. If I don’t find him, I dinnae ken what I will do. I’ve no one here, you see.”

With that said, she turned from him to gaze at the leaping flames in the fireplace.

At her statement, Kit’s heart lodged in his throat, leapt with anger it didn’t seem he could tamp down. “Him?”

He didn’t like the way that sounded. Not if he could help it, she wasn’t going to search for a him, for another man. She was his. His sudden possessiveness surprised him.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Touching her fingers to her lips, she looked away from him, the length of her hair brushing against her gown covering her more thoroughly than he appreciated. Her thick hair was better camouflage than her nightdress.

He needed her complete cooperation. “Shouldn’t be honest with me?” he queried, his antagonism growing still. This blind rage was an emotion he’d never met with before. “While you are with me you won’t be looking for anyone, especially some unknown man.”  The need to comprehend more rushed within. Wanted her to tell him the man’s name so he could shoot him. No, he’d rather strangle the unknown person with his bare hands.

“Who is this male who you are looking for?” He tried for a calm soothing voice. If she saw his anger, she would never confide or trust.

She drank down half the glass of wine. A small film of dampness coated her lips. When next she looked at him, moisture clouded her eyes, violet hued eyes. Her words erupted in a thin wail. A lone tear slipped from one eye. “I don’t know.”

That was passing strange. There was more here than she was saying. “So, any man will do.” Kit didn’t understand the blazing fury he felt at her words. “Am I any man? Will I do in a pinch?”

He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled, until she would admit to wanting him as much as he wanted her. Until she realized he must be the man she searched to find.

“No.”

“No what?”

Breathing in deeply, her breasts rising and falling provocatively with her distress, she seemed to brace herself before she could say her next words. “You’re not any man.” A long pause followed while he willed himself to let her finish. “I dinna ken what you mean by do in a pinch.”

His Aila was too damn naïve. She had no idea what the havoc she created in him or what exactly he wanted with her. He needed to believe her. He understood that was a good thing. Again, he tried to tamp down his pressing fury coupled with the deep jealousy simmering too close to the surface. “Do you know the man’s name?”

“No.”

Her response was too quick. He had more unanswered questions. Kit didn’t understand anything. He could only make assumptions he didn’t like. “So, you would give yourself to this unknown man instead of spending the next few weeks and months with me, under my protection?”

He felt incensed, enraged that she didn’t want him. He didn’t understand nor did he comprehend how to go about changing her feelings. Something like this never happened to him before. Never before had a woman he wanted turned him down.

“Yes.”

“You won’t! Not for as long as I live!”

Kit still didn’t understand where the fury came from. This woman was his. She belonged to him. No way in hell was she going to search for another man. He would tie her to their bed if she tried. There was no reason for his anger. All she did was state a fact as she saw it. There was more to this. She wasn’t telling him everything.

He stuffed a breath of air into his lungs before jabbing his hands into his hair. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes so wide and violet, the sight stole the last remaining vestige of air in his lungs.

He needed to go for another walk. Nay, he needed to shift then run as his cat. Settling for a walk would have to suffice.

~ * ~

Eilig Henderson, the Second Earl of Gadby, paced the dark airless room he called his office. He killed the bastard Craig MacLean before he could shake Aila’s whereabouts from the man’s closed lips and defiant eyes. This was a hell of his making. He no longer knew what to do. The chit could be anywhere in Scotland. Hell, by now she could be headed anywhere in the world. Ships left the Inverness port every day to destinations unknown. All Craig told him was that she was beyond his reach, that he would never lay his hands on her. Beyond his reach, what the devil did that mean?

Where in tarnation was he going to search for her? One of his spies told him she headed west into the most desolate part of the highlands. The man followed her for two long nights and three days. He must have passed by her on the second night of his surveillance. His hireling wasn’t even positive the woman he followed was Aila. All he could tell him was that the woman had bright red hair. This woman might have been a decoy to lead him astray. Traveling west would not bring her to the port of Inverness, would not take her to France or the colonies.

When the man least expected to see her, believed he lost the woman he shadowed, he came across her riding in front of him. Where she was headed, he certainly had no idea. Now, following her was more difficult. The land was barren of trees. He had to stay at least a curve or two, even a hill behind her. When he would crest a hill, he would wait until she moved on always west.

What he finally saw stole every last bit of air from his body. Aila MacDuff, if the woman he trailed was Aila, she would not ever be the earl’s bride. The woman along with her horse walked into the Kinnel Stones. That was a place haunted by tales of mysterious magic along with superstition. No one who entered there was ever seen again.

Curiously, he approached the stones where she entered. White mist swirled inside the boulders, the fog so dense he couldn’t see her or the mare she brought inside with her. Soft chanting filled the space around him, the sound compelling him to answer, urging him forward. Quickly, he backed up not wishing to be tempted further. He waited for over two hours before he turned to leave. The news he had to impart to the earl would not be taken well. The woman he sought was gone.

When he heard the tale, Eilig’s fist hit the table hard while he thought about all that his spy told him. He rehashed every word in his brain. Memorized what the man said. His fortune was in dire straits if he couldn’t retrieve the woman. He needed an heiress, a rich one to pay his gambling debts. He also needed her fortune to repair his two homes. He would bed her until she bore him a son. After that he would find a means to divest himself of his unwanted wife. She was a fey creature, too slender and too tall for his taste. Most likely there would be little to no enjoyment in bedding her. He didn’t care. The use of her body for the time it took for her to conceive a male child would have to satisfy him.

As his wife, she was his to do with what he pleased.

Nonetheless, what he understood at the moment was that he would need to risk everything to follow her into the Kinnel Stones. The man told him she did not come out of the stones. He waited and watched for her to emerge. What if the rumors about that bizarre place were true? If he followed her inside, he might not ever be able to return to this life he coveted.

Nothing mattered in the present, if he didn’t get her back. If he didn’t wed her, returning to this time wouldn’t be worth his time. His life was in shambles, his estates falling down around him. His debtors ready to collect. This was his one chance. None of the other eligible women would have anything to do with him. Their doting parents understood what he could not give their daughters. Understood his vagaries. Aila’s father didn’t care. He sold her without blinking once.

Eilig made the only logical decision he could make. Two days later after setting his estate in order, he set off for the stones, a small valise in hand. He had enough money to see him through weeks of searching for the woman who threatened his very existence, who if not found would make his life a living hell. He prayed the funds he left in the Edinburgh bank would still be available to him in whatever year he surfaced if he surfaced. When he unearthed her, he would drag her back through the stones. At that time, he would pray they would end up in the right year as well as the right place. He would keep her locked up until she agreed to marry him.

Sitting atop his horse a few feet from the Kinnel Stones, his life flashed in front of him. Second as well as third thoughts assailed him. For a moment, his heart ceased to beat. Sweat ran down his face. He stared at those huge stones for far too long dreading the irrevocable step he was about to take. His courage vanished. He swore to himself. If he didn’t return with her, his life was over. For him there was no choice, no choice at all. He had to make the jump of faith.

Heaving a deep breath, he placed one step in front of the other until he was inside. His horse reared. He kept the reins tightly in his fist, as he would need the mount when he stepped outside the stones, if he lived to step outside.

Black instead of white mist as his man described circled around him. Evil, wicked chanting pushing, dragging him to bump into stone after stone until he was bruised from the beating he was undergoing. The noise he encountered sounded malevolent, even to his battered senses. Soundly pushed from behind he hit a stone. He groaned at impact, more pushing and shoving, more pain. The black, dark moments traveled through him, filled his senses.

Suddenly, everything stopped. He felt as if he’d just been whisked away. The unyielding blackness evaporated as if hit by a scalding sun. He blinked several times while he stared through the space between the stones, his eyes attempting to adjust. His heart skipped a beat. He was suddenly free to make his decisions. He tugged inside his lungs a long breath of heather scented air.

It was as if he went nowhere. Even with that sensation assailing him, he understood he’d been pushed to another time. The same field of heather sat in front of him. Rolling grass over hills looked the same as when he walked inside the stones. He didn’t know what to think. Though he understood this was a different year.

He was alive! Eilig Henderson slid his hands along his thighs wiping away the moisture. In all his life he’d never been in such an ordeal; the black mist, the chanting, the shoving coupled with the clawing. All the while he expected to die. Now he stood on the other side of the Kinnel Stones. His horse nickered softly beside him.

The sky was dark, black as sin. Covered by clouds no stars shown to bring forth light. It must be night of what year? He stuck his hand in front of his face. It was the barest shadow. This was not the time to be wandering in the highland crags. He knew first hand there would be reavers afoot. For his motives, sending men to steal from the English crossing the borders of Scotland had been a fine way of making extra groats. Reavers could also be found in the highlands.

His stomach rumbled hungrily. Hesitantly, he placed one foot in front of the other uncertain of his next move. He comprehended the fact he needed food as well as shelter.

He decided he could be anywhere in time. Could be in the same time. At least he was in Scotland, not some foreign country where he wouldn’t know the language. He tugged in a deep breath of air feeling a bit of courage surge through his blood stream.

Where would Aila go?

What would a woman alone as well as frightened decide? Eilig tried to put himself in the frame of mind of a young terrified woman. He couldn’t. What he did decide was that she most likely wouldn’t head back to Inverness. She would find herself in the same pickle as he was. No, just as he didn’t ken what the year was, she wouldn’t either. She wouldn’t want to risk him finding her if she’d not moved on in time.

Aila was no fool. She would head south then west so she could lose herself in a small village or even a larger city such as Glasgow. She held a two-day head start over him. She was a woman. A woman would encounter problems that would never plague a man. He hoped he got to her before she lost her virginity. Her innocence was his to take from her. He owned her by right of the contract he negotiated with her father. Her maidenhead didn’t belong to another man. Craig MacLean was a fool for not sampling her. He always enjoyed a virgin.

He grinned then set his horse on a path he prayed would lead him straight to Aila.

The next evening he rode up to The Black Hound Inn. He handed his reins over to the stable boy. With confidence that he would discover she had been here, he sauntered up the steps then into the bar. He found a table in the middle of the room. After all he didn’t wish to hide. He wanted to discover if the flame-haired violet-eyed vixen had come this way. If she hadn’t, he’d have to think on her destination again. Perhaps he should head west if he didn’t ascertain anything new.

He grinned when he discovered she came to this very same tavern. His grin turned to a scowl when the little barmaid sitting beguilingly on his lap told him she went with Kit Stuart two mornings before he arrived. Anger furrowed in his heart when she told him that Kit’s family was powerful; also that he came from a wealthy clan. While he wasn’t a lord, the family held an immense amount of land in this part of the highlands. She finished by adding to what she previously said, that they were rich as Midas.

Well, he would have to tread carefully. Would need to consider each move he made.