Highland Destiny (25 page)

While that thought made her sad, Mackenzie refused to acknowledge the emotion, and instead steeled her heart against Connor and forced a smile. She was pulled from her train of thought by Connor's hand on hers.

"You have been quiet, are you not enjoyin' the tale?"

Mackenzie almost choked on her answer. "No, I mean, yes; it's a great story. Quite informative."

Connor's eyes narrowed at her choice of phrasing, but all he said was, "Perhaps ye should retire early? It has been a taxing night." When she didn't say anything, he stood and pulled her chair out. "Come, I'll walk ye to our chambers."

Connor tucked her arm through his as they left the Hall.

He walked her up the tower stairs to the Laird and Lady's chambers, pausing outside his door.

"I ken your thoughts are of tomorrow, and I've a surprise for you."

Momentarily distracted, Mackenzie cocked her head to one side. "Another one?"

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Connor swept the door open and strode in to light a few tallow candles. He paused and turned as Mackenzie walked through the door. She gasped and flitted to the bed. There was a gown of a deep midnight blue with silver embroidery and laces on the stomacher lying on the bed. It was beautiful.

He wouldn't have done this for her if he didn't care for her at least a little, right?

Mackenzie held it up to herself and twirled around like a little girl playing dress-up.

"I take it ye approve of the color?"

"Oh, Connor, it's beautiful. I love it." She turned her wide gaze on him and remembered that she was still mad at him.

Her eyes turned wary, "But when? And why? I have a trunk full of gowns. Since women don't wear white yet, any one of them would do."

"I commissioned it when we first arrived."

"But that was like a week ago," she persisted. "How long have you been planning this wedding?" she was speculating.

It was so thoughtful, but what did it mean? Was there an ulterior motive? Or was it just his arrogance that demanded she look fabulous on his arm at the wedding?

"Since I first looked into your eyes." His thumb brushed underneath her lash line.

"Oh." She blushed "So sure I'd say yes?"

"You couldna say no."

"You're arrogant," she retorted.

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"Oh, it comes with the title and all that? Hah! I think you've been getting your way for far too long Connor MacRae.

Maybe I should have said no."

His smile was smug. "You didn't say nay," he reminded her.

His arrogance or pride or whatever had led to his plotting this marriage brought her initial joy at her new gown to a halt. She felt her hopes plummet as she thought of the reason behind the gown; the curse. She'd meant to keep her own counsel as far as her feelings over the whole blasted curse, and her newly-realized-but-still-in-denial love for Connor, but she'd never been good at hiding her feelings.

Maybe it was a blessing that she'd never had to deal with John Campbell, since she was an awful liar and had never really tested her acting skills outside of the high school play senior year.

"Connor?" Mackenzie laid the gown gently on the trunk at the foot of his bed, and waited for his full attention. It was unnecessary; he was already looking at her.

"Aye, Mackenzie?"

"Do you believe in the curse?" She'd meant it to sound casual, but her voice didn't cooperate; it was too intense. It didn't help that she was holding her breath while waiting for him to answer.

She didn't have to wait long; he answered her almost immediately. "Nay, lass, I doona."

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"Good." Her fears were nowhere near allayed. She pressed on, "But don't you think that it's a little convenient that I'm a Stewart and if we get married tomorrow that it ends an ages-old curse? Besides, how can you dismiss it so easily after all that has happened?"

Connor's eyes gentled, "Nay, lass. 'Tis fate. Fate and magic. Magic brought you here to me, and 'tis fate that you are a Stewart and I a MacRae. I saw the chance and I seized it."

"And me," Mackenzie murmured a little staggered by his romantic admission.

Connor's face split into a wide grin. "Aye, and you. I took a chance on abducting a woman I'd ne'er laid eyes on, but I had to ensure the Campbell could not possess you." His voice and eyes hardened, "And he'll no' ha'e you, he'll not touch you. I swear it, Mackenzie, he'll no' hurt you."

She couldn't doubt the fervor and sincerity of his words, but she did doubt the meaning behind them. What had he been planning this whole time? Had marriage been the ultimate goal from the beginning? So, no matter whom he had found in that carriage, would he have married her?

Mackenzie had to know. "So let me get this straight. You knew you were going to marry whoever was in that carriage?

No matter who she was or what she looked like?"

"Aye, Mackenzie, for the good o' the clan. It was fate alone that you were in that carriage rather than the pale Englishwoman we were led to believe the Campbell would marry."

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Mackenzie had forgotten that his information (as well as the Campbell's) was only that she was from England and a Stewart. Connor had had no idea that when he'd pulled her from the carriage that she would be an American tourist from the year 2008 dressed in shorts and a tank top. Mackenzie inwardly smiled as she imagined Connor yanking a young English maid from the carriage. She felt a quick stab of sympathy as she realized that the unknown girl would have probably fainted dead away at the prospect of being kidnapped by a Highland "barbarian."

His arms were around her, and Connor pulled her tight up against his chest. Mackenzie knew what he wanted, and what her traitorous body wanted as well, but she wasn't sure if she could do this. She wanted to think all of this through; the curse, Connor's plans, and how she felt. His lips were at her neck, tracing their way to the hollow beneath her ear.

Mackenzie had trouble thinking. The only thing she was sure of was how she felt in Connor's arms, and she was fairly certain he felt the same inescapable pull of desire. She'd once told herself that it would be enough that he wanted her, and right now she desperately wanted to believe that.

Truthfully, though, she did want to go through with the wedding. She wanted to marry Connor, to bear his children, and grow old with him, but there was no way that was possible since she would be going back to her time in a couple of weeks. There was no happily ever after for them, but 246

So after all that, Mackenzie found herself back where she started; unsure of Connor's feelings for her but knowing she loved him. And now she was rambling on and on in her own head when she should be grasping tenaciously at whatever time she had left with Connor.

He must have sensed it as well, because he said against her neck, "Turn off your mind, Mackenzie. Doona think, just feel...."

His lips brushed her cheek, her temple, her closed eyelids...He bypassed her lips, barely touching the corner of her mouth with his warm breath, continuing instead down her neck and collarbone until he found her nipple through the material of her dress. Mackenzie gave up thinking entirely and surrendered to the magic of Connor's lips.

Connor was pleased to see Mackenzie's open joy at the gown. He'd wanted it made in the same color green of her eyes, but his sister had warned him that to be married in green was unlucky, so he'd chosen the color of midnight with the silver accents of the full moon. Just as the night he had first seen her. When she had raced to the bed and picked it up to hold it against her body, Connor had wanted very badly to see her in it. He felt ridiculous.

This was his way of showing her how he felt about her. If he knew her mind better, he would tell her, but she must hear how he spoke to her? And she must see the way he looked at her? He knew his men saw it; they teased him mercilessly on the practice field. But when she'd turned her 247

The only thing he could think of was putting his hands on her body. He would show her with his lips what he couldn't tell her with them.

She deserved more, much more, but she'd be leaving in a few weeks and he didn't want her to go. How could he convince her to stay? How could he even think of asking that of her? Once more, Mackenzie pulled back from him, but he kissed her words away; this was not the time for talking.

Connor kissed his way down her delicate neck and found her nipple through the fabric of her gown. He stripped her of the gown, wet from his mouth, and pressed her up against the cold stone of the wall. Her hands wandered impatiently down his back stopping at the small of his back as she tugged at his shirt. Connor tore it off and felt a tingle from skin on skin contact that he'd never before felt. Pressing his arousal into her soft belly he felt her hands clutching his hips. Hoisting one of her long legs up around his hip, he slid into her in one smooth motion, and stifled her gasp with his lips.

They never made it to the bed.

Mackenzie awoke on the day of her wedding to an empty bed. The sheets were cold on his side, but the smoldering remains of the fire warmed the room enough for her to slide out of bed. It felt decadent to sleep naked and feel her skin slip against the sheets. Mackenzie had never been one to sleep naked; usually it was just boy-shorts and a tank top.

Besides, her roommate usually had a guy over and Mackenzie was tired of being caught in her underwear in her own home.

Sleeping nude was definitely a luxury she enjoyed, especially when she was snuggled up to Connor's naked body.

Mackenzie padded barefoot over to the window and looked out over the loch, and the most beautiful October day she'd ever seen. Being a desert rat from Las Vegas, she rarely saw such beautiful scenery, so she drank it in. The fog had cleared—-hmm...it must be later than she'd realized.

Checking her watch she gasped; it was nine o'clock! The wedding would start in an hour! Just as she started to panic, a knock sounded at the door.

Bronwyn bustled in without waiting for an answer.

"Let's get you ready, dearie. I've a bath ready in your chambers and your gown has been aired out and is ready as well."

Bronwyn scrubbed Mackenzie's body until it glowed and washed her hair with the scented lavender water that Mackenzie loved. When she stepped out of the tub, she 249

"What?"

"Oh!" She flushed at the embarrassment of being caught staring. "I dinnae mean to stare, but if it's not too bold, might I ask what that is?"

"Huh?" Mackenzie followed her gaze down. "Oh you mean my belly ring?"

"What is it?" she fingered the jeweled barbell gently.

"Hmm...it's like an earring," Mackenzie touched her earlobes "but it is pierced through my navel. Where I come from, they're the latest fashion."

"Ahh, that's right, the Americas. Are ye missin' yer lands much?"

"Not so much anymore," she smiled thinking of Connor.

"But I miss the heat, and the dry air. It's so different here."

Bronwyn, it seemed, had taken offense to Mackenzie's comment. She quickly tried to repair the damage done to her one friend.

"I find these lands to be some of the most beautiful that I've ever seen." At Bronwyn's smile, Mackenzie went on, "I'm not sure I could ever live somewhere without mountains."

Bronwyn's face perked up at the mention of her lands.

"Och, aye, dearie, these are some beautiful mountains.

Soon they'll have snow covering them, and in the spring you'll see the flowers and heather bloom across the loch and into the moors. Oh aye, it's a lovely sight to behold." Bronwyn sighed happily at the thought of the Highlands in spring.

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"Married in blue, always be true" Bronwyn quoted.

Mackenzie smiled thinking of the "something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue" adage.

Once she was dressed, Bronwyn sat her down to plait her hair, weaving silver ribbons throughout, but leaving some of her hair down so the braids and ribbons laid against her nearly dry curls. Mackenzie desperately wished for makeup or at least some mascara. She briefly pondered trying to sneak a moment alone to swipe on some lip gloss when a knock rapped out on the door.

"Mackenzie?"

It was Connor! Bronwyn called through the closed door,

"Me Laird, 'tis bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding!"

Connor's sigh was audible through the heavy door. "'Tis time" was all he said before his footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Mackenzie barely even got the chance to look in the mirror as Bronwyn looked out the door to see if Connor had indeed left. The last thought she had before she was ushered downstairs was that she was glad she'd spent her summer in the pool; her skin still retained a warm golden hue. Between the blue of the gown and her blonde hair, her tan gave her that glow that every bride hoped for on her wedding day.

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