While Connor was deep in conversation with some man 256
named Callum, an old man with thinning grey hair paused in front of Mackenzie long enough to remark,
"'Tis doin' me heart well, it is, to see the laird's new weefe so in love wi' him."
"Excuse me?" she gasped.
"There'd be nothin' more beautiful than a woman in love."
"Oh, I'm not, I mean, we're not, umm..." she gave in graciously, "Thank you."
The rest of the celebration was spent in the turmoil of her mind; was it really that obvious that she loved him? She had barely admitted it to herself yet, it was difficult to hear it spoken out loud by a stranger.
When Mackenzie and Connor retired to their chambers, it was well past midnight and the festivities were still going strong. As soon as the door closed behind them Connor turned on Mackenzie with a peculiar gleam in his eyes.
"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" The intensity of his eyes belied the banal question.
"Yes. Didn't you?" Mackenzie knew Connor's expressions well enough to know that this was not what he wanted to say.
"Aye."
"What? What is it?" She was a little irritated that he was back to speaking with monosyllabic answers.
He just looked at her with an appraising look in his eyes, and a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"Connor, I know you want to say something to me...just spit it out."
That broke through his brooding silence. "Spit what out?"
She sighed, "It means speak what you are thinking."
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"I overheard what Farlan said to you."
"Who?" She looked up at him with her brows knit over her nose. She wasn't playing innocent; she really didn't know.
There were just too many names and faces to remember.
"Is it true?" he pressed. " Are you in love with me?"
Mackenzie blushed to her roots and hedged, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."
Connor's blue eyes were intense as he stepped closer, but his voice was gentle, "Mackenzie you're a terrible liar."
She sighed and looked away from his sapphire gaze. She knew he'd get it out of her sooner or later, and besides, what was the point in denying it anyways? She drew herself up and glared at him square in the eye.
"I've loved you from the start, Connor MacRae, and I won't apologize for it." While she felt defensive, Mackenzie wanted him to understand she wouldn't press the issue. "I'm not asking anything of you Connor, and I don't expect anything from you..." His fingers silenced her words.
"You're in love with me? Why have you never said anything?" He demanded.
"No one wants to tell someone she loves him, and have him not say it back," her eyes dropped and she said it so softly he had to strain to hear it.
His quickly indrawn breath had her raising her eyes to his.
He was looking at her with a look on his face that she had never seen before. It was tender, and incredulous, and there was something else, but she just couldn't decipher it.
He finally spoke, "If you think I doona care for you, then why did you agree to marry me?"
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"Umm...it's only temporary, I guess, since I'll be returning to my time on Halloween, or All Hallows Eve, or whatever you call it." She wanted to reassure him that she didn't have any expectations of him. "Plus, even if you don't love me, I still want to be with you, even if it is only for a few weeks." This was hard to admit, how much she wanted to be with him, since she'd never said it out loud before.
"But I've told you I care for you, lass, do you not remember that?"
Mackenzie shrugged, and her lips pouted slightly, "But I never really know what you mean. And let's say you do care for me?" she challenged. "What then, huh? There's nothing we can do about it." Her frustration was evident in her tone, so she tried to gentle it, "I mean, I know I can't stay here, I guess, is what I'm trying to say. And I don't expect you to ask me to stay; I already told you that I am going into this marriage with my eyes open. I'm not an idiot, Connor, I know why you married me and I'm not asking for more than you are prepared to offer."
Connor was irritated, she could tell. "And why did I marry you, exactly?"
Why did he keep questioning her? He wasn't giving anything away himself, but it felt like he was grilling her mercilessly. She was uncomfortable speaking aloud her newly discovered feelings for him, and trying to explain such deep emotions to him was painful knowing he did not reciprocate.
"Like you said, to protect me and stuff." She was depressing herself with the knowledge that he still hadn't said 259
more than he cared for her. And she didn't know if he was merely saying that to be nice.
He had gripped her gently by the shoulders and waited patiently until she met his eyes. Mackenzie noticed that they were a deeper blue than she'd ever seen before. He still didn't speak; he was staring into her eyes, looking for something. It seemed like he wanted an answer, but who knew to what? He could be so frustrating sometimes.
When he spoke, it sounded like he'd chosen his words carefully.
"You mean more to me than any woman ever has." His eyes never once broke contact with hers.
It wasn't "I love you too," but it was a start. She figured that he was trying not to hurt her feelings. She sighed, at least he hadn't said "Thank you" when she'd confessed that she loved him. That was so insulting. Mackenzie held his gaze for a few moments more, but then she dropped her eyes and stepped back from his too-close proximity and that inevitable heat.
"Don't worry about it, Connor," Mackenzie tried to sound blase and shrugged again, "I told you, it doesn't matter whether you love me back or not, it's only for a few more weeks. Then you can go back to whatever it is you were doing before you kidnapped me." She smiled to show him she wasn't trying to pick a fight, but he wasn't ready to leave the topic yet.
"And are you so anxious to leave?" his voice sounded calm, but his eyes were angry.
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No. "I don't have a choice, Connor. The gate only opens once more before the New Year."
"There are always choices, Mackenzie." His voice was low, and gentle, and she wanted to believe a bit sad, but that was purely wishful thinking on her part.
"Not for me." Mackenzie was done talking about leaving. It was too hard and she wanted to memorize her wedding night for later. She turned away from him and tried awkwardly to pull at the laces on her gown; this one laced up the back. She heard a muffled chuckle and glared over her shoulder at Connor.
"Don't laugh at me."
"I wouldn't dare sweeting." He compressed his lips and it looked like he might have been biting them from the inside.
She felt her hair lift off her back and Connor's hands replaced her own.
His "Would ye be wanting some help?" was said against the nape of her neck.
"Please?" She leaned her head back against his shoulder and sighed. It felt so natural to be here, to be doing this.
Getting ready for bed with the man she loved; her husband.
He slipped his hands around her waist and kissed down her jaw to her neck. She shivered despite the heat that emanated in waves from Connor.
"I knew that you would look exquisite in this." Her gown fell to the floor, and Mackenzie stepped out of it.
"Oh did you now?" She preferred this teasing banter to the serious talk of her imminent departure.
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He whirled her around to face him, "Oh, aye Mackenzie, I did." He'd finished with her stays and Mackenzie hadn't even noticed until they too had fallen to the floor. He was so quick at it, that Mackenzie was been about to tease him about how he must have gotten so proficient at undressing a woman, but the look in his eyes halted any words.
Connor dipped his head and kissed from her neck to her collarbone, and down her arm as he slipped the sark off her shoulder revealing the satiny skin beneath. When he got to her fingers, he nipped her ring finger and Mackenzie gasped as he drew it into his mouth and sucked. He
raised his eyes back to hers and trapped her gaze in his own. Connor slid her sark down her body and Mackenzie was helpless to do anything but stare into the dark blue pools of molten desire his eyes had become. It was a heady feeling to know that she was the reason his eyes were so dark; she had never before felt so powerful. He wanted her and this time she knew what to do.
Mackenzie unwrapped his plaid from the chieftain brooch and pushed it off his shoulder. Connor held perfectly still and let it fall to the floor with Mackenzie's pile of clothes. Next Mackenzie dragged his shirt over his head; it too joined the growing pile of clothing. Mackenzie couldn't help but marvel at his hard body with all its scars hinting at the power and danger this man carried. She let her fingers trail down from his chest to the patch of hair on his stomach, and lower still.
She could feel his muscles clench and his breath stop as she wrapped her fingers around his erection. She quickly found his rhythm and knelt down to press her lips to his lower abs.
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Trailing her mouth down to where her hand was, she gently licked the tip. She felt a thrill of satisfaction as his hands gripped her shoulders and as her mouth took him in, his fingers tightened. She used both her hand and her mouth to pleasure Connor. He molded a hand to the nape of her neck, holding her in place. She was becoming bolder with her free hand, exploring what made his muscles quiver and his breath hitch, when Connor pulled her roughly up and to him, crushing her lips with his.
He pressed her back against the cold wall and lifted one of her long legs, hitching it around his hip. She was tall enough that he didn't have to lift her. He slipped inside her and Mackenzie reveled in the groan wrenched from him. This was how she liked Connor; out of control. He pushed into her again and again until they were both panting, and Mackenzie was moaning with every breath. She couldn't wait any longer.
"Oh God Connor, I'm so close."
"Just let go, love."
With her back pressed against the cold wall and the heat from Connor's body warming her, Mackenzie shuddered with the force of her orgasm and she melted into Connor's arms as he spent himself in her.
Slowly he withdrew from her and slid her leg down only to gently pick her up and carry her to the bed. He was looking at her like he was waiting for her to say something.
"What?" Mackenzie frowned when he didn't answer. She touched the crease line in between his eyebrows. "What is it?"
"I'm so sorry."
Her frown deepened. "For what?"
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"I didn't mean to take you up against the wall like a common whore. You deserve better. I'll be gentle with you. I want to be." Mackenzie thought he sounded as if Connor was promising himself rather than her.
"Oh," she grinned, her breathing still not yet returned to normal. "Don't worry about it; I liked it up against the wall like a common whore."
Her mischievous look had Connor laughing.
"Och do ye lass? Well I should be a gentleman and oblige ye."
Her eyes widened innocently, "Why my Laird, whatever do you mean?"
Connor gripped her by her hips, flipped her over onto her belly, and slid in from behind.
His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, "Let me show you."
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Chapter Twenty Four
Connor had slipped out of bed around dawn to fetch his new bride some breakfast. He had noticed she did not rise at dawn like most did, so he thought he would let her sleep.
Especially since he hadn't let her sleep much the night before.
He'd woken her a couple times during the too short night to find her eager and wet. He smiled at the memory of their last coupling. He had woken her by slipping in from behind while they slept together, snuggled like two spoons in a drawer.
Her body had responded immediately even before she was fully awake. Her gasp of surprise and pleasure was all the encouragement he had needed. He had never known anyone who was so willing and giving without asking for anything in return. Not even his love.
She loved him. Connor hadn't wanted to say anything yet—-Mackenzie would think he was only saying it in response to her admission. He wanted to make it special when he said it to her, so she would know his heart meant it. Although she now had his name as her own, he wanted to further ensure her bond to him. What it ultimately came down to was that he didn't want her to leave. Perhaps if he got her with child, she wouldn't be able to leave? The thought that he had not taken any precautions with her thus far led to the thought that mayhap she might be with child already.
By the time he entered the dining room, Connor was grinning so wide that a serving girl nervously giggled and peered at him from beneath her lashes before she darted out 265
the door. Liam was eating and flirting with another servant when Connor strode up to the table. He prepared a plate of fresh brown bread and honey with some late season berries.
"Ah the new groom. I see by your smile that ye had a pleasant night."
Connor turned and smiled with an excited light in his eyes.
"Aye Liam, although the night was too short, my brother, too short indeed."
They both laughed at the implications.
"Good Connor, ye deserve it. Ye have been too serious of late. Right glad it is I am to see how your new bride has brought such happiness to your eyes."
Connor pulled out a chair and sat down next to his brother.
"I think you should know the truth, Liam, about me bonnie bride."
Liam's eyes narrowed, but he merely nodded for Connor to proceed with his tale. Connor knew Liam well enough to know that he would save his judgment until the end. His brother had always been a fair-minded man. Liam had a hot temper, but he had always been a fair man.
"She is not who you think she is, Liam. She's...she is," his uncharacteristic struggle for words had Liam's curiosity piqued. "She is unlike any woman I've ever met. She's the Stewart lass, as I'm sure you ken." Without waiting for Liam to acknowledge him, Connor continued, "I abducted John Campbell's betrothed ere he met her."
"Aye, brother, I had heard that."
Connor interrupted his brother, "She's not English, as our informant led us to believe. Which means the Campbell hasn't 266
any idea she is no' who she should be. The Campbell was told the same as we were, that the Stewart lass would be a spoiled, weak-willed English maid. But she's no' that, Liam, she's so much more." Connor poured a mug of ale and had gulped it down before he'd even set down the jug. How could he make his brother understand? "She's from the Americas, Liam. The Americas. We've been told for generations that the Stewart lass would be Scottish and she's an American."
"Has she got any Scotts blood in her at all?"
"Aye, I believe her grandmother was from the highlands.
There's Scotts in her blood. I can feel it. More than that, she can trace her lineage to royalty. But the Campbell doesn't ken more than she is his abducted bride. He needs her blood. He plans to sacrifice her to secure his position through his use of the dark arts. He plans to charm his army with her blood. Her blood is the key to the dark forces. He will transform his army into one merged with the dark magicks he so faithfully worships. Once they are merged he will be nigh unstoppable.
But we have her, Liam. We have the Stewart lass, and he will come for her. There was an attempt on her life her first night here. I've been thinking about that a lot, and I believe that it was meant merely as a warning; he knew I'd kill those men.
He needs her alive. His deadline is Samhain and then her life is forfeit. We have to keep her safe til then, Liam. We have to!" Connor pounded his fist into the table so hard it drew blood.
Liam finally spoke, "We will keep her safe brother. We canna let the Campbell get his hands on her, that much is evident." He paused thoughtfully, and then his eyes 267
darkened. "The black arts," Liam spat as he said it, his face twisting in a grimace, "I canna believe it. What a snake." His tone changed, "But what are ye plannin'
for the lass?"
Connor shifted slightly, almost uncomfortably, "Well, Liam, here's the crux of the matter. There's a wee bit more to the story. My new wife is not only from the America's, but she's from 200 years in the future. She is from the year 2010."
Liam gaped. When he finally spoke it sounded as if he were choking, "She's from...where?"
Connor would've been amused at Liam's expression, except he knew how he felt. "Not where, but when.
Approximately 218 years from now. She'll no' even be born til the year nineteen hundred and eighty-seven."
"Be serious, Connor." Liam had regained his composure and his voice was firmer, angry now.
"I am serious, my brother. There'll no' be a Stewart lass born for almost 200 years. The Campbell's magicians took her from her time and brought her here. She was on her way to meet the Campbell when I found her carriage and took her.
She says that they were asking for her help to defeat the Campbell."
"Can they be trusted?"
"I'm no' sure. They fed her some tale about breaking the curse, and she agreed to help, but I doona think she knew to just what she was agreeing."
"But what if they were only securing her agreement for pretenses? They could be in league with the Campbell and taking her to him, rather than for their so-called noble 268
purposes. What if their intent is no' for the greater good, but rather for their master's own good?"
"I've thought of that, believe me, Liam, I have. But I've no way of knowing what they are thinking. If I could just speak with them face to face, then I might read their eyes and their intentions." His expression turned black. "If they brought her here to sacrifice her, if they lied to her...they will never get the chance to regret it."
"And what of the curse, Connor? Do ye think this will end it?"
Connor laughed harshly and raked his hand through his hair. "Until recently, Liam, I never believed in the curse. Now, why not? I think that, nay, I know that Mackenzie Stewart was brought here for something special, something extraordinary, more than what even she thinks. Whether 'tis ending the curse or defeating the Campbell, I'm no' sure, mayhap she will do it? I'm no' sure of anything anymore, Liam." Connor paused. This next part was the hardest for him to admit. His voice softened and thickened and he spoke slowly, "The only thing I am sure of is that I love her. I love her so much and I am so selfish that I want to keep her here.
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