Thea opened her eyes slowly. They were gummy with sleep and as she reached up to wipe them she realized she was tangled in a thick blanket. She fought her arm free, wiped her eyes, and then propped herself up on her elbows. It took a moment for her sleep-addled brain to take in her surroundings. She was lying by a hearth with a fire died down to embers. There was nobody else in the room.

Looking around slowly, she spotted her coat hanging on a peg on the back of the door. She frowned, trying to figure out the significance of that. How the hell had she ended up undressed?

She threw back the blanket in a panic then paused as she saw she was actually wearing some kind of long tartan wrap and had leather moccasins on her feet.

What the hell?

She frowned, trying to piece together her fractured memories. She’d been walking, hadn’t she? Walking along a cliff because she’d gotten lost and couldn’t find the car. Then a storm had swept in, a horse had been bearing down on her and...

“Oh, my god!” she gasped. “I fell over the cliff!”

A dark memory of freezing, grasping water filled her mind. She remembered sinking, her lungs burning, her limbs flailing, so certain she was going to die...

And then strong hands grabbing her, pulling her back towards the light. Someone’s body heat warming her as she was carried gently. And then...waking up here by the fire.

Carefully, Thea climbed to her feet. A wave of dizziness washed through her and she staggered before catching herself on the mantelpiece. Reaching up, she placed a hand on the back of her head and felt a large lump there. So. She’d hit her head. No wonder, with the ground so slippery and all those rain-slick rocks lashed by the storm.

The storm. Yes, there had been a storm. A wild one.

She paused, listening. There was no howl of the wind, no patter of rain on the roof. All appeared still and by the light coming in through the shutters, she guessed it was early morning.

She slowly looked around. The room was tiny, its walls made from river-worn stones with a thatched roof over her head. There was a small cot in one corner which she guessed must be a bed, a rickety table with two chairs, and a pot by the fire. Nothing else. No TV. No phone. Nothing.

Who would live in such a place?

A man. There had been a man. He’d been the one who’d pulled her from the water, the one who’d carried her with such strength.

With staggering steps she crossed to her coat and fumbled in the pocket until she found her cell phone. Frantically she pushed the buttons, trying to get it to turn on but it didn’t respond, no doubt ruined by its dunking in the ocean. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart. Her benefactor would let her use his phone, she told herself. She would call a cab and go back to the hotel.  If her headache didn’t clear up, maybe she’d see a doctor later.

She made her way over to the door, using the wall to support herself, and pulled it open. The light was so bright she had to squint. Holding up a hand to shade her eyes, she looked out on a fresh landscape. A small yard stretched out in front of her, covered in sparkling puddles. The sky was bright blue, with high clouds scudding along above.

“What a difference a day makes,” she muttered wryly.

A small wooden building sat in the corner of the yard and a horse had its head stuck over the half-door, watching Thea with interest.

Thea took two tottering steps and breathed in the cool, still air. To her right the sea sparkled all the way to the horizon and to her left the undulating uplands of the Scottish Highlands spread out like a map. There was not another soul in sight.

Then Thea heard splashing coming from the other side of the cottage. She stumbled in that direction and peered around the corner of the building. Another structure sat on this side of the house, one with a high roof supported by thick wooden pillars. A stout rain barrel sat in one corner, brimming from the recent storm.

A man was standing by it with his back to her, stripped to the waist. He dunked his head in the barrel and then flung his head back, spraying water droplets that sparkled in the sunlight. He was easily over six feet tall, his shoulders broad and his arms and back heavily muscled as though used to hard labor.

The man suddenly spun and looked at her, an angry glint in his dark eyes. A swirling black tattoo covered his pectoral and something about it tugged at Thea’s memory.

“Sorry!” she blurted. “I...um...I...didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Ye didnae,” he muttered. “I was done anyway.” He dried himself and then pulled a linen shirt over his head and tied a tartan plaid at the shoulder. Then he walked over to stand in front of her, his eyes narrowed as he looked her over.  He was so tall that Thea had to crane her neck back to look up at him.

“I’m mighty surprised to see ye up and around this early,” he said. “I think ye may have hit yer head.”

Thea shrugged, trying to make light of it. “Nah, it’s nothing a good cup of coffee and a few pills won’t fix. Although my head feels like I’ve had a heavy night of drinking. It’s not fair having the hangover without the fun.”

He didn’t smile at her attempt at humor. Instead a look of puzzlement crossed his face. “Pills? Coffee?”

She waved a hand. “Never mind. I’m Thea by the way. Thea Thomas. I’ve just realized you saved my life and I don’t even know your name.”

To her surprise he gave her an awkward bow. “Logan. Logan MacAuley.”

“Pleased to meet you, Logan MacAuley.”

She smiled at him but he didn’t return the gesture. He watched her with a serious expression. Now that it was beginning to dry she noticed that his hair was the color of burnished copper and fell to his shoulders in lazy tangles, framing a strikingly handsome face. Awesome. Just her luck to meet a gorgeous guy when she looked and felt like hell. 

“Why were ye walking the coastal road alone, lass?” he asked.  “And in such a storm as that?”

Thea paused. Her memories were hazy. She remembered Irene MacAskill, the ring of standing stones, stepping through the archway and then...everything changed.

“I wasn’t supposed to be,” she answered slowly, thinking through the course of events. “I was out with my camera doing a recce. I walked under an archway and then everything went...strange.”

His eyebrows pulled into a frown. “Ye were out alone? Have ye gone daft, lass? There are still wolves in these Highlands although they’re rarely seen these days. But there are brigands aplenty who wouldnae hesitate to take advantage of a lass out alone.”

Thea bridled at his tone. She wasn’t a child to be lectured. Who the hell did he think he was? “I hardly think I need worry about being set on!” she retorted.  “The Highlands aren’t exactly known as tourist-mugging hotspots.”

But his frown only deepened. “I dinna ken most of what ye just said, lass. Yer speech is most strange.”

“My speech is strange?” she replied, a little annoyed by his tone.  “You’re the one with the crazy-ass accent! Don’t tell me you’ve never met anyone from the US before? You must get bus-loads of tourists out here.”

“The US?” he said the word carefully. “I know of nay such place.”

Thea stared at him. Was he making fun of her? She opened her mouth to speak but before she could form a response, he turned away.

“Are ye hungry?” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll fix us both some breakfast before I see ye safely back to yer kin.”

Thea almost sagged with relief. “Starving,” she replied. “I could eat a horse.”

Thea followed him into the cottage where Logan bade her take a seat at the table. Thea found she was glad of the rest. Just the short walk out to the yard had tired her out and she still felt a little dizzy. Perhaps she’d hit her head harder than she realized.

As Logan busied himself breaking eggs into a pan and setting them to fry on the fire, Thea looked around the cottage. Rustic wasn’t the word. She could see no evidence of running water nor any light switches or plug sockets. Instead, candles sat in holders on the mantelpiece and in the middle of the table. Why did Logan live out here alone in a place like this? Maybe he was some city boy who came out here at weekends to escape the rat-race. She’d heard of people like that.

Logan took a loaf from a shelf, sliced it, and then placed the slices in the pan with the eggs. He moved with a surety that spoke of having done this many times before. Thea wondered about that. Would a city boy be this comfortable cooking on an open fire?

Finally he turned the eggs and fried bread out onto a wooden plate which he placed on the table in front of her. Thea ate ravenously. When had she last had a bite to eat? It must have been breakfast at the hotel yesterday. Logan didn’t eat. He stood by the mantelpiece and watched her in silence.

When she’d eaten her fill, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Right. Ye have said some mighty strange things since ye woke. I think ye better start from the beginning.”

Standing there like that he was quite the imposing figure. He was so tall and broad, he seemed to fill the room. His expression suggested he was suspicious of Thea’s story.

“I already told you everything,” she snapped.  “I’m here photographing wildlife. I was on a recce, trying to find some good subjects. I spotted some standing stones sitting in the water and went to investigate. Next thing I know I’m in a god-damned storm!”

She glared up at him, daring him to contradict her or call her a liar. His frown deepened.

“Standing stones, ye say? Why, by all that’s holy, would ye approach such things? Dinna ye know they are the province of the Fae?”

“Sure. Just like you can find a crock of gold at the end of a rainbow or trolls guarding a bridge! Look, if you could just point me in the direction of the road I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Where were these standing stones?”

Thea waved a hand vaguely. “That hardly matters, does it? I’m sure there are hundreds of the things round here. Which way to the road? I’ll walk back to the hotel.” If she was really lucky, she’d pass a bus stop or be able to flag down a passing car.

He shook his head. “I promised to escort ye safely to yer kin and I will do just that. Where may they be found?”

Thea ground her teeth. He went from condescending to protective in the space of a heartbeat. “I’m staying at the Loch View Guesthouse in Glenmorrow.”

“I’ve never heard of such a place.”

“That’s fine. If you could just get me to Glenmorrow, I’ll give you directions from there.”

“Nay, lass. What I mean is, I’ve never heard of this place called ‘Glenmorrow’. There is nay such place in the Highlands.”

She stared at him. What the hell was he talking about? She bit her lip, biting back an angry retort. “Okay. Whatever. I’m grateful for you pulling me from the water and putting me up for the night. I’ll be on my way now. I’ll have your plaid laundered and sent back to you and have someone pick up my clothes. Goodbye.”

She crossed to the door but Logan stepped in front of it, blocking her path. “I canna let ye go wandering the wilds alone.”

“Let me?” she asked, her eyebrows rising incredulously. “You’re not ‘letting me’ do anything. I’m leaving!  Get out of my way!”

Anger flashed in his eyes as he stared down at her. “Are all lasses in yer homeland so wilful?”

“Are all Highland men such overbearing jackasses? Now get out of my way!”

She glared at him, fists clenched and he glared right back. She felt something uncoil in her belly. Anger? Or something else?

Then, with a muttered curse, he stepped aside to let her pass. Thea pushed past him into the yard. There was a narrow path that led from the cottage through the heather and up to a line of gorse bushes in the distance. Good. That was probably the line of the road.

She marched off, not looking back, trying to ignore the dizziness that threatened to send her staggering. She’d be damned if she’d show any weakness in front of Logan bloody MacAuley! Let her go wandering the wilds? Who the hell did he think he was?

She marched along the trail and reached the line of gorse bushes. But on the other side she didn’t find the road, only another narrow trail with deep ruts filled with puddles.

“Damn it,” she growled. She turned slowly, scanning the terrain. Where was the road?

She heard a thumping noise and turned to see Logan trotting up astride the horse.

“If ye are going to persist in this foolishness, I will escort ye to where ye wish to go,” he said.  “Mount up and we’ll be on our way.”

“No thanks. I’m fine walking.”

She set off down the narrow trail, reasoning that it must eventually come out onto a road or if not, then at least she’d hit a settlement sooner or later as long as she followed the coastline. After a moment she heard hoof beats and Logan came abreast, walking the horse.

“Lass,” he said. “Thea.”

Thea looked at him sharply. It was the first time he’d used her name. Hearing it from his lips sent a strange sensation through her body.

“Thea,” he said again, gently. “Stepper can easily bear the weight of two of us. Ride with me. It will be much quicker than walking.”

Did he think she would so easily forget his rudeness and condescension just because he was offering her a lift? She opened her mouth to reply but before she could utter a word, a wave of dizziness sent her stumbling.

***

The lass staggered and then crashed to the ground with a strangled little yelp. Logan knelt by her side, cupping her head in his hands. Her skin had gone dangerously pale and her eyelids fluttered.

“Thea?” he asked anxiously. “Lass?”

She passed a shaky hand over her forehead and then struggled into a sitting position, pushing determinedly away from him. “I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy. It’s passed now.”

She didn’t look fine to Logan but he knew better than to comment. Lord above, the lass was as fierce and proud as a hawk, and had a temper to match. He wasn’t used to having people in his home and hadn’t been entirely sure how to handle this woman who’d dropped into his life out of nowhere.

“Listen, lass,” he said, deliberately keeping his voice steady and reasonable. He’d learned she didn’t take too kindly to being ordered about. “I dinna ken this settlement ye spoke of, but if ye give me directions, I’ll do my best to get ye there. Would that be agreeable?”

She looked up at him and the sight of those big green eyes of hers nearly unmanned him. Lord above, but she was beautiful. Heat rushed through his body and he forced himself to take a long, slow breath.

“Yes,” she whispered at last. “That would be agreeable.”

Logan rose to his feet and pulled Thea up after him. She leaned on him heavily as he led her over to the horse and helped her into the saddle.

He swung up behind her and gathered the reins. “Which way, lass?”

“South,” she mumbled. “A little valley where a river empties into the sea. There’s a long pebble beach and the cliffs on one side are so steep there are no houses built on them at all.”

The description of the estuary and the beach sounded like Tragavnen Cove which lay a few miles distant but there was no settlement in that valley. However, he suspected she wouldn’t believe that if he told her and would insist on seeing it with her own eyes.

Clicking at Stepper, he sent her into a walk down the trail, as fast a pace as he dared with Thea seated in front of him. She clung to the saddle with both hands, obviously unused to horses, but made no complaint as they rode. Whenever there was a slight bump she was jostled against him and Logan had to admit that it felt good to have the solid weight of her back pressed against his chest.

How long had it been since he’d last been this close to anyone? A year? More? Her hair tickled his neck and her scent filled his nostrils. She smelled of spring flowers.

This part of the coast was wild and sparsely populated. The protection of the laird up at Dun Ringill didn’t stretch this far and so the only folks who walked these paths were smugglers or brigands hiding from justice. Logan scanned the terrain continually as they moved, alert for danger, but he spotted not another soul.

Thea suddenly sat up straighter. “What’s that?”

Logan followed the line of her gaze. “What’s what?”

“That rock! The one shaped like a sleeping cat! I recognize it! It’s on the hillside just above Glenmorrow! We’re nearly there!”

High on the hillside to their left a large outcropping of rock stuck through the heather. It didn’t look much like a sleeping cat to Logan’s eyes but he didn’t tell her that.

They continued past the rocks and around half an hour later they found themselves looking down into Tragavnen Cove. The valley had a wide, lazy river meandering along it, emptying out into the sea through a delta that grew thick with marsh grass. The cry of sea birds and the whine of the wind filled the air but there was no sign of any settlement.

Thea stared, her eyes wide. Then she turned to look back at the sleeping cat rocks then back at the valley. Logan could see her thoughts turning.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered, shaking her head. “This is the place. Look, there’s the steep cliff I told you about. There’s the river mouth. There’s the sleeping cat rocks. So where the hell is Glenmorrow?”

Her words rose in pitch, tinged with panic. When she’d first claimed to be from this ‘US’, he’d thought she was being untruthful and when she’d wanted to return to Glenmorrow, a place Logan had never heard of, he’d been doubly sure. But now, as he looked at her panic-stricken face, he realized she really believed what she’d been telling him.

“Let me down,” Thea muttered. “I need to take a look around.”

She began wriggling in the seat, trying to get her leg over Stepper’s neck. Stepper shifted under the sudden change in weight.

“Easy,” Logan warned Thea. “You’ll have us both unhorsed if ye aren’t careful. Here.”

He swung his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground before helping Thea to dismount. She walked unsteadily to the valley edge, and looked out. Logan crossed his arms over his chest and watched from a distance, giving her space. That blow to the head must have affected her memory. Logan could only hope she could piece together where her kin really were or they were both in deep trouble.

“I don’t get it,” Thea whispered, her eyes round and worried. “This doesn’t make any sense. What the hell is going on? I should have found myself a waitressing job then I’d be safe at home right now! Why the hell did I listen to Irene MacAskill?”

Logan’s head came up at that. He strode to Thea’s side and grabbed her arm more roughly than he intended. “What was that name ye just said?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Irene MacAskill. Why? Do you know her?”

Logan didn’t answer her question. A sudden fear gripped him. Irene MacAskill? She’d spoken to the lass?

“How do ye know the woman?” he demanded. “And what did she say to ye? Tell me. Every word.”

“I...I...” Thea stammered. “She brought me to Scotland. Offered me a job, paid for my flights. I was supposed to do some photography work for her magazine. She met me when I was doing my recce by the stones but then she just...disappeared.”

Logan released Thea’s arm and took a step back. He sucked in a deep breath and then scrubbed a hand through his hair. Irene MacAskill. The same woman who’d accosted Logan in the storm, right before he ran into Thea. The same woman who’d disappeared into thin air as if she’d never existed. The same woman who Logan suspected was far, far more than the benign old woman she seemed.

The tattoo on his chest suddenly ached, sending pain searing across his skin, just as it had the day it had been branded into him, the mark of his bargain, of his curse. He staggered a few steps, gritting his teeth against the pain. It passed after only a moment, so fleeting he could almost believe he’d imagined it. Almost.

Thea was watching him warily. “What is it?” she asked. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have,” he muttered. “Maybe we both have.”

Could it be coincidence? Unlikely. He’d learned from bitter experience that such things didn’t happen by chance.

“You know something, don’t you?” Thea said.  “Tell me!”

Logan straightened and drew in a deep breath. Was the lass somehow in league with Irene? Or was she just another unsuspecting victim pulled into her plans? And how was he to know?

“Let me get this straight: Irene MacAskill brought ye across the ocean, met ye here, and then disappeared?”

Thea nodded.

“And ye have no kin here at all? Nobody who could take care of ye?”

She shook her head, her eyes round. “I don’t know anybody here. Only Mr and Mrs MacGregor who run the hotel. Look, could you take me to a police station or something? I just want to go home.” Her voice sounded frightened now.

He held out a hand and spoke gently. “I would if I could, lass, but ye use words I dinna understand. I dinna ken what ye mean by ‘police station’ or ‘hotel’. All I know is that I suspect Irene MacAskill is at the root of this. If I guess correctly, she is of the Fae and they are known for their mischief. What she wants with ye, I canna say. But if she is the one that brought ye here, she is the one that can answer yer questions and arrange for ye to go home—wherever that might be. We must find her.”

Thea was staring at him incredulously. “Fae? As in ‘fairy’? You are kidding, right?”

He didn’t reply, only met her gaze steadily. They stared at each other for a moment then Thea threw up her hands. “This is crazy! You really expect me to believe that I’ve been whisked here by some fairy? I’m surrounded by crazy people! Look, thanks for your help but I’ll find my own way back to the hotel from here—”

Her tirade cut off as she staggered again, eyes rolling back in her head. Logan grabbed her arm before she could hit the ground.

“Gerroff,” she muttered. “I’m fine.”

“Ye most definitely are not fine,” Logan growled, pulling one of her arms over his shoulder. He’d seen people with head injuries on the battlefield and knew how unpredictable they could be. The lass needed a healer.

Curse the Fae and their damned meddling! Hadn’t they done enough to him? He’d dared to hope he would be free of them after he made his bargain but it seemed they weren’t done with him yet. Curse them all!

“Come,” he said. “There is naught to be gained by lingering here. We must return to my croft.”

“No,” Thea protested weakly. “We have to find the road. And the hotel. I need to go home.”

“Aye, I know that,” he said. “And we will. We’ll find Irene—I give ye my word. But not this instant. Right now ye need rest and healing.”

For a wonder, she didn’t protest as he carried her to Stepper and lifted her into the saddle. She swayed and for one heart-stopping minute, Logan feared she would fall, but she gripped the horse’s mane in both hands and managed to steady herself.

Logan mounted behind her. “Here, lass. Lean back against me. I willnae let ye fall.”

It was a measure of how bad she was feeling that she did so without complaint. Her body felt warm where it pressed against his and his skin tingled where her hair brushed him.

An unexpected surge of protectiveness welled inside him. Aye, she’d burst into his life like a thunderclap, turning it upside down, but he’d protect her, make sure she was safe. From everything. Even himself.

Pulling in a deep breath, he turned towards home.