Highland Stone (7 page)

A clansman marched up to Alaxandar and pulled him aside. Kara hung back, more interested in hearing their conversation than seeing two men beat the crap out of each other.

"I have word on the raid," Macaskill said. "A small boy hunting rabbits saw those who killed our clansmen."

"Bring the boy to me," the chief ordered. "I wish to hear the story for myself."

"Aye, MacLeod. It shall be done."

Drummond MacLeod turned to Alaxandar. "I shall hear the story and try to name the bastards."

Alaxandar nodded. "Aye. Mayhap we should post more to guard the walls."

"Murdo!"

"Aye, MacLeod?" Murdo broke from the last of those leaving the hall.

"Double the guards. If there be a body who doesna belong, bring him to me."

"It shall be done, MacLeod."

Not knowing the enemy made Alaxandar uneasy. Movement caught his eye. He turned to see Kara lingering close by. Speaking of someone who didn't belong, their newest guest was definitely out of place, and… beautiful.

Alaxandar shook his head.

She must be fae or a witch bedazzling his mind. He'd never been so captured by just the sight of a female. A constant yearning to kiss her, please her, warred within him. Even her hair captured his attention by the way it shined. Her eyes lured him in, and those lips…. A spy or not, she posed a threat—to him.

Something bothered Kara. She hadn't protested him carrying her to the hall. What had she meant by women of her time? That would be another mystery he'd look into. He'd keep a close eye on Kara Malone. The mysteries were piling up.

At that moment, she looked up and caught him staring at her. Immediately, she spun and walked toward the doors. It didn't take much to catch up because she limped from the injury. He stopped her at the foot of the stairwell. "Waiting for me?"

"Yes, I—I mean, no, I was not." She glared at him.

Her flowery scent tickled his nose. For a moment their eyes met and he reveled in the smoldering gaze. He loved that glint in her eyes when she got angry. It flared with fiery heat, scorching his soul. Images of her naked beneath him turned up the burn. It irritated him how easily she managed to do it.

He'd dreamed about her all night.

It wasn't the first time.

She'd haunted his dreams for years.

The day he'd first seen Kara, he'd been shocked and disbelieving. The beautiful angel began filling his dreams the summer of his sixteenth year. She rolled naked in a lavender patch, hid in the woods, or swam bare in the loch. Even then his body responded. Each dream ended the same—waking in a sweat with an erection to rival the gods.

He'd left Kara in the chamber that day and left the castle certain his death was imminent because his dream had come to life. Rumors were circulating about her appearance. He'd heard them. At present, she seemed to pose no threat. Best to sit back and see how things play out. See if she'd show the true meaning of why she was here.

Alaxandar grabbed Kara around the waist and pulled her body tight against his. "Who be ye, Kara Malone?"

She pushed against his chest. "I told you who I am."

"I be a first-born MacLeod."

"I'm happy for you," Kara said dryly.

Alaxandar did his best to ignore her creamy cheeks turned crimson and flushed. He'd been so involved in war and protecting the clan over the last several years, he'd not taken much notice of women other than to ease his urges. While in her presence, it was all he could do not to strip off her clothes and sink deep into her soft body, slaking his lust. For many years, he'd done just that over and over in his dreams. He wanted to know if she tasted the way she did in his dreams. She needed to understand that he was in control.

His groin ached.

His lips met hers in a searing tease. His tongue caressed her lips until they parted then he entered the sweet cavern mingling her breath with his. Kara's resistance lessened and she leaned into him. He grabbed her hair with one hand, tilting her head to more fully explore her mouth. She tasted sweet and tangy like the fruit she had eaten. Taking her face in his hands, he nipped the corners of her mouth before pulling back.

Kara slowly opened her eyes. Her hair lay across her shoulder where he'd released it. She stared at him. "Why did you do that?"

It felt as though he'd been kicked in the head by a horse. Confusion muddled his senses. He'd couldn't speak. His hands fisted at his sides.

He had no answers so he stormed off, leaving Kara standing alone.

Lying down with a rag over her eyes to try to get rid of a pounding headache, Kara fidgeted with the fur blanket. Her brain wouldn't stop analyzing what she knew about Scotland's history. Unfortunately, her knowledge was limited to skewed stories told by her grandparents.

 Glynnis had spun eerie tales about bloodthirsty clans and the barbaric men who raped and killed. Spooky yarns to scare the young ones, but the most compelling of all had been a magical fairytale about a talisman that transported a person through time, dropping her into another place to live out the rest of her days. Kara had been amazed at the life-like details. Now she knew the truth of it. They were memories of a woman who'd lived them. Any other time she'd have trouble wrapping her head around it, but here she was living it too.

Her stress levels were escalating along with her fear. She needed a way to get out and see more of the grounds, of the land. Try to find a way to figure out the next step. Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she shifted her ankle from side to side. It felt okay so she stood, testing its strength. There was minimal pain.

She needed some air. Since she hadn't been able to see much of the keep or the grounds this afternoon, she decided to take a stroll. She carefully opened the door. To her surprise, the sentry wasn't at his post. Taking advantage of her good fortune, Kara hurried down the stairs and into the bailey.

A dim light beamed through the small window in the stables, so Kara headed in that direction. Peeking inside she saw Cuilén grooming one of the horses. The gentleness of his strokes lulled her. He hummed a haunting melody which floated through the stalls. The notes hypnotized while caressing her skin in soft strokes like those he used on the animals.

Magical.

"You love them don't you?"

"Aye," he said without pausing.

"I notice you spend a lot of time with the horses." Kara went inside.

"They be simple and easy to deal with."

With raised brow Kara said, "And people aren't?"

Cuilén chuckled but didn't look at her. "People are not easy, 'tis true."

"What about Ilysse?" Kara asked. She ran her right hand down the nose of a beautiful chestnut-colored mare.

Cuilén didn't respond right away and Kara feared she'd overstepped her bounds. He stood and settled his forearms on the mare's hindquarters.

"Ilysse will be me wife," he stated simply. "What more be there to say?"

"I guess nothing, if she's already promised to you." Kara moved closer to Cuilén.

"'Twas me choice," he responded, and faced her with the devilish grin she'd come to know as a MacLeod trait.

"Choice?" From what she knew of these times, women were bartered like livestock.

"Aye, she's been coming to Dunvegan since she was a young lass." He winked at her. "She be full grown now and I be wanting her with a ferocious need."

"Oh, Lord," Kara huffed. "Men."

He laughed and went to the next stall where he began brushing down a stallion. Here she'd thought he'd been the one who seemed different than the others, but he turned out to be a typical male. Who knew?

"If I asked you to do something for me, would you do it?"

"A lady should be careful what she be asking a man."

His tone seemed teasing without malice or underlying threat, but it made her skin tingle. "I would like to go riding tomorrow if I could." She bit her lower lip. "Would you arrange that for me?"

His hands stilled. "Ye wish to ride outside o' the gates?"

"Yes. I would like to see more of the MacLeod lands, beyond the little village I visited this afternoon with Leelah.

"'Tisna safe for ye to be leaving the keep or the grounds. Dinna ye get a firsthand look at what awaits outside the walls?"

"Yes, but…"

"Mayhap Alaxandar be right and ye are daft."

"What?" Kara frowned at him, and he lifted a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ooo, you MacLeod brothers are all alike."

He bowed graciously.

"Will you take me or not?" She crossed her arms and glared. This seemed to be a constant state for her around these men.

"I will take ye, but only a short distance."

"Thank you." Kara left the stables light-hearted, hoping her luck would change with the ride. The sooner she finished what she came here to do, the better. Something lingered between her and Alaxandar. There was suspicion, intensity, heat. She didn't trust herself when they were together, afraid she'd do something stupid like kiss him again. She much preferred the prospect of Cuilén's company.

Kara eased through the massive doors into the castle with every intention of sneaking back to her room and going to bed. As she started up the steps, she heard voices coming from the hallway. Not normally one to eavesdrop, it could provide information that would help in her quest. Quietly, she inched her way to a medium-sized room where Drummond, Alaxandar, Iain, Patrick and Jamie huddled around a small wooden table.

"We be needing to make ready and fortify our holdings," said the chief. "The food stores be low. Ready a hunt."

Jamie said, "We'll set out at first light."

"Aye, spread the word to the others."

Jamie left the group. Kara panicked, looking for a place to hide, not daring to be caught listening. She scooted as close to the wall in the darkened part of the hallway as she could and held her breath. Not like that would make any difference, but she did it anyway. Jamie passed by without stopping. Relieved, Kara tiptoed back toward the doorway.

Alaxandar and his father moved to one side, speaking in low voices. "I be no closer to finding the group o' men. They be like mist and disappear." Alaxandar heaved a sigh.

"Dunna fuss, mayhap this boy will tell us something that will be o' use."

"Chief," Patrick called. "I need speak with ye about the crops."

The chief returned to Patrick and Iain, a look of worry on his face. Alaxandar turned toward the flames in the fireplace. He placed his foot upon the hearth and leaned forward resting his hands on the mantle. His head lowered as if studying the fire. Even through the material of his shirt, Kara saw the muscles across his back flex. The toned legs stretched out from under his kilt told of years of laborious work.

Her hungry gaze traveled up the length of his legs to the hem of the plaid kilt. This interesting garment left unanswered questions like how did he put it on and what did he wear underneath? She gasped and immediately slapped her hand over her mouth.

Slowly, Alaxandar's head rose. He removed his hands from their perch and stood to his full height.
Oh, God
.
He'd heard her. Kara whirled and hobbled up the stairs.

She slammed into her chamber. A quick look into the small bit of mirror showed pink cheeks. Random thoughts about Alaxandar's bare body had that affect. Her body pulsed and ached for something she wouldn't name. She removed the stone from her bra and placed it under the mattress. With a slight limp, she walked over, cupped her hands in the basin, and rinsed her face with cool water. It didn't help the heat of her skin.

Behind her, the chamber door flew open.

Alaxandar stormed into the small room. "Be ye a spy for MacLeod enemies?"

His presence made the room feel smaller. His fury frightened her. Kara's gaze darted around the room looking for a weapon. Certainly she wouldn't need one but it didn't hurt to be prepared. And these days, she needed to be prepared for anything.

"What are you talking about?" She dabbed her face with a cloth.
Keep him talking.

"Ye were listening to us below stairs. Do ye deny it?" He stepped closer.

"I wasn't listening to anything. I've been here." She set the towel on the table and inched toward the bed.

He snatched her arm and pulled her to him. "Dunna lie to me, woman. I kin smell ye… in the air."

"What?" she puffed.

Holding her steady, Alaxandar dropped his nose to the hollow of her neck and inhaled deeply. "I kin smell the scent of ye. 'Tis intoxicating." He placed a kiss on the sensitive skin just below her ear.

He felt Kara's body quivered. She leaned into him, ran her hands up his chest, and settled them around his neck. Raising her face, she kissed him.

He broke the contact first. His fingertip fell along her silky cheek. Waves of desire warmed his blood and the smooth, satiny feel of her beckoned him. His body felt hot—too hot—and he stepped back. Her eyelids fluttered and her tongue licked swollen lips. With a flushed face and tousled hair, she was entirely too tempting. Sex radiated from her, calling to him. Oh, that he could give in to it.

She started toward him, but he raised his hand. "Stand there." He pointed to a spot in the middle of the room. Kicking the door shut as he passed, he stood in front of her. "Be ye a spy?"

Her gaze captured his. "No," she said, flexing her fists at her sides with a defiant lift to her chin.

He slowly circled her. "Where do ye come from?" She didn't look him in the eye this time.

"A land far, far away." She sighed and rubbed her temple. "So far, sometimes I think I'll never get home."

"'Tis what ye want? To go home?" He continued around her.

"Yes."

Her answer hit him hard. "What be stopping ye?"

"I'm kind of lost."

"How kin ye be kind o' lost?" He stopped beside her.

"I started out in a familiar place, now I'm in a strange place."

Alaxandar began circling again. "Ye make no sense."

Kara ran her hands down her face. "Don't you think I know that? How can I explain something I don't understand?"

This time he halted close, very close. "Why were ye spying?"