LINDSAY FROZE WITH her hand on Conall’s hard chest and simply stared into his gorgeous, very startled eyes. What had just happened? What did she do?

“I—” she started and shook her head, not sure what to say she was so thrown off balance and wildly aroused. He was completely nude and pressed against her. She bit her lower lip at the feel of him between her thighs. His heavy erection had nothing but a bit of material keeping it from going where she so wanted it to go right now.

“Och, I’m sorry,” he muttered and pulled back so abruptly, she almost fell right off the rock. Instead, her eyes fell down his body, again drinking in the sight of him. He was built like a damn mythological god with his strong legs, slim hips, washboard abs, broad shoulders and muscular arms. Yet her eyes kept getting drawn back to the admirable thickness between his legs. For shit’s sake, never mind being a butt double, he could easily hold his own in a pornographic movie.

“Bloody hell,” he grunted before he muttered a chant and turned away, leaving her with a fully clothed backside to admire. She tore her eyes away from him, shook her head and came to her feet, still trying to make sense of what just happened.

“That wasn’t me,” she blurted then swallowed hard when his eyes met hers again. “At least not at first.”

“I know,” he ground out, clearly more aggravated with himself than her as he raked a hand through his wet hair. His brogue was far thicker than normal, his R’s rolling. “Ye were possessed, and I took advantage of ye.” He frowned and looked at her with disappointment in his eyes, his breathing just as heavy as hers. “I am truly sorry, lass.” He shook his head. “I knew ye werenae yerself yet I...”

When he trailed off, angry with himself, she debated how much to tell him. While yes, she had felt controlled by another as she sauntered his way and touched him, the feeling had fled the moment he kissed her.

Then she was just lost but very much herself until Milly and Adlin showed up.

Lindsay pressed her lips together and shook her head. If they had not appeared, she would have eagerly and very willingly had sex with Conall. And, oh, she knew it was going to feel unbelievable. She had never been so aroused and ready in her life.

“It’s okay,” she managed, deciding against telling him the truth. If she did, she would be admitting her interest in him, and that was the last thing she should do. Or so she kept telling herself as he crouched at the pool’s edge and splashed water on his face. He might have just bathed, but she suspected he wanted to submerge his whole body in the frigid water again. Or so said his raging erection.

“Tell me about what possessed you,” he finally said as he stood and faced her. His brogue seemed under control again. “Did it feel evil? Do you believe it might have been the warlock?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not at all on both counts.” She cleared her throat. “It felt...” Seductive. Teasing. Practiced. Powerful. “It felt like a woman.”

“A lass?” He frowned. “Are you sure she didnae feel evil? Warlocks can be lasses too.”

“I’m sure,” she murmured and shook her head. “No, she definitely wasn’t evil.” She pondered it as she absently twirled her ring. “If anything, she felt familiar.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “How so?”

“I’m not sure but...” Her words died away as her eyes fell to her ring. “It’s changed colors again, Conall.”

“You used my name,” he said unintentionally based on his expression before he redirected his focus to her gem. “I dinnae recognize that shade of blue.”

She shook her head. “Me either.”

“’Twould have to match the eyes of whoever you might have become, aye?” he murmured as he took her hand and peered at it. Her breath caught at the physical contact. At how the roaring need between her legs that had barely dulled fired right back to life.

Clearly sensing it, his eyes shot to hers before he released her hand and stepped back. But not before she saw the flash of fear. Not before she saw far more than he likely wanted her to. Losing both his father and Fraser had truly damaged him. Maybe beyond repair. It didn't matter that it had not been the loss of a woman he loved, it had been family members he loved and it cut deep.

It was easier for him to remain adrift than to make connections and she well understood. Milly, Christina, and Jessie were a fluke. Growing close to them had been strangely unavoidable, but they were the only ones since her parents had died. And, as she eyed Conall warily, they were more than enough. She didn't need something deeper.

She did not need to fall in love.

“Whilst we are both likely ready to return to the others,” he said. “’Twould be wise to begin training as soon as possible.” His eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “Now, preferably...unless you need time to gather yourself.”

She feared she was long past gathering herself, especially when it came to him, but dutifully tried to pretend otherwise.

“No, I’m fine. And I agree.” She really did though she understood his need to remove himself from any possible intimacy. “Where do we begin...Laird Hamilton?”

His jaw tightened at her use of his title, but he nodded once as if agreeing with her decision to call him that again. At least, for the moment, they were no longer bickering. Rather, since they woke up, he seemed different somehow. The way he spoke and looked at her had changed.

Her thoughts went to the night before. Flashes of nightmares from her childhood, then peace. A sort of peace and warmth she had never felt before. Or had she? For a moment upon waking, she related that peace with snippets from the night Conall had taken her out of Grant’s arms and away from Stirling Bridge. Flashes of how he had held and comforted her.

When she opened her eyes this morning she was almost surprised she wasn’t in his arms. That he was not holding her like he had that night. But no, he was sitting there, stoic as ever looking like he hadn’t slept in ages. If anything, his eyes appeared haunted.

So what happened? Because he had treated her oddly since. Yes, he still kept his distance but he wasn’t quite so brash. While she could chalk it up to him learning about her gift to enchant rather than blindly seducing men, she sensed it was more.

Then again, she sensed stranger and stranger things from him. Or more so his thoughts. Especially the hairless faery in the tree. She wished she hadn’t heard those thoughts because they were bizarrely relatable. If for no other reason, than that she had been bald at one point in her life.

“Though we both know I dinnae ken your particular gift, I do ken magic verra well,” he began as he leaned against the rock opposite her. “The place to start when learning about your gift is at the verra beginning. The first time you used it and what caused it to happen.”

As if she would tell him that anytime this century.

“’Tis doubtful you are ready to share as much yet though so I’ll share my first time,” he provided, evidently seeing the reluctant look on her face. “I was nearly nine winters old.” A wry grin tugged at his lips. “A late bloomer, my kin said.”

“So you were eight,” she murmured, stating the obvious as a chill went through her.

“Aye.” He nodded. “I was at MacLomain Castle with Adlin. Not surprising in retrospect.”

“Why?” She relaxed as he did, caught by the sudden light in his eyes. A side of him she had never seen.

“Well, Adlin was who he was, but a mess at it.” He chuckled. Actually chuckled. “He had a bad habit of thinking he was all-powerful from a verra young age, and though he was stronger than most with magic, he was, as a rule, overambitious.”

She couldn’t stop a small smile at Conall’s nostalgia. “How so?”

“’Twas the tree outside his castle,” he began. “A magical bonnie tree born of many. A MacLomain and Broun tree if ever there was one.”

“Really?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “It has a long history. One I’ll share someday mayhap.”

No sooner did the words leave his mouth then his posture tensed. She didn’t blame him. His words skirted too close to hinting that they might know each other far into the future. She inhaled deeply and almost shook her head as her own shoulders grew tight. Not, she was shocked to realize, because of a potential someday that existed between them, but because there might not be.

As if eager to relieve the sudden tension, he continued. “Adlin doesnae have just one element like the rest of us. Instead, he controls all and at that age, was rather proud of it.”

“Oh no,” she murmured, biting back a small smile. “What did he do?”

“’Twas more about what he did not do.” He shook his head, that same small smile curling his lips again. “He boasted that the tree and all its creatures were his to command. That every last leaf would blow in the wind if he commanded it. That every last creature would sleep if he willed it. None were so powerful as he.”

She flinched. “It sounds like he was playing God.”

“Aye.” He nodded. “He’s said the same many times since and regrets it.” He shrugged. “Yet he got his comeuppance in a way most unfortunate considering the trail of wee lassies following him.”

Lindsay met his smirk. “How old was he?”

“Only a few winters older than I.”

“And girls were following him?”

“Aye.” He looked confused. “Werenae lads following you around at that age?”

Something about the way his words grew softer alarmed her. Almost as if he had an inkling of her at that age. Lindsay simply shook her head in response and urged him to continue.

“So, showing off for the lasses, Adlin cast this great magical spell on the tree,” he said. “One, by all accounts, that worked. It appeared the entire tree slumbered. No leaves moved, the air grew stagnant, and even a squirrel or two plunked peacefully to the ground sound asleep.”

Lindsay barely breathed as he continued.

“Unfortunately for him, something in that tree didnae rest and made him a bit of a laughing stock for some time,” Conall said, his tone changed, fonder almost. “Because whatever it was made the branches shake, and whipped acorns at him.”

Breathe Lindsay, she whispered internally. This is just pure coincidence. Nothing more.

“Then what?” she managed. “How was this the first time you used your gift?”

“I apologized to the tree for Adlin’s behavior,” he stated simply. “Then I flung my arms in the air, chanted, and finally did what I had been trying so long to do. I manipulated the air and allowed the tree to return to normal.”

“You allowed it?” she whispered, remembering all too well a day like this. Or maybe it had been a dream.

“Aye.” He nodded. “I thanked the tree for being patient with Adlin then I used my magic and freed it to resume its normal routine. Being part of life.” Conall shook his head. “What happened that day set me on the path to embracing my gift fully.”

“I see,” she whispered and did her best to keep an even expression, praying all the while he would not sense her thoughts as he seemed quick to do lately. “Fascinating.”

Their conversation was beginning to take on a surreal feel. As though she was awakening from something she always thought was a dream but really wasn’t. As if perhaps those long days spent alone healing really weren’t a figment of her imagination. That they might have, somehow, actually happened.

“The point of my story is that I came into my gift,” he continued. “When I did, I understood what was at the root of it.”

“And what was that?” she asked softly, wondering perhaps if he really was at the root of it. Or could it have been the faery in the tree helping him?

“Lack of fear,” he stated simply. “Acceptance that I possessed something that could help that tree. That I could help, period.” He gave her a telling look. “Much like you blindly do for others. That is why ‘twould be best to go back to the first time you used your gift so that we can better establish the reasons it became active within you.”

“I was young,” she said absently if not a bit breathlessly. “I can hardly remember.”

“You are lying,” he stated calmly.

“I am not,” she responded just as calmly.

They crossed their arms over their chests at the same time as they continued.

“Mayhap if you arenae ready to share those details,” he said, “you would begin by telling me what you did when you used magic for the first time.”

“I can’t remember.”

“Then mayhap where you were.”

“I can’t recall.”

“Then mayhap,” his eyes narrowed, “how using your gift for the first time made you feel.”

“Confused,” she said before she could stop herself. But something about the way he was looking at her, the genuine help he tried to offer, made her able to share. That part of the memory at least.

“Aye, ‘tis confusing for many of us the first time we use our gift.” That same semi-amused look was back in his eyes as, she realized, he attempted to lighten the mood. “But imagine being able to put the likes of Adlin MacLomain in his place when you do it.”

“That must have been something,” she acknowledged, smiling. “I can only imagine.”

And she truly could. Far more than he knew, she feared.

“Did you feel anything else but confusion?” he asked.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Fear.” Her voice grew softer, yet her eyes stayed with his. “Terrible fear.”

“’Tis normal, lass.” Conall never looked away but shifted closer, his arms still firmly locked over his chest as he considered her and his gaze softened. “There isnae anything like that first moment when you know you’ve controlled something else. That you’ve manipulated your surroundings in a way most humans could never imagine.” His eyes held hers as he paused, his voice gentler than ever. “’Tis a verra lonely feeling in some ways.”

Their eyes held for a moment before she finally found her voice. “Yet you had family who used magic. Which gave you so many people to talk to about it. Some, even, that controlled air just like you.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “I was verra lucky.” He moved even closer, not in a sensual way by any means. No, she sensed he wanted to be there for her and truly help her. “Yet here you are, Lindsay, a full grown adult using your gift in such an admirable way. Aye, you need training and ‘tis to be expected given you had no one to help you along the way, but you are by no means flailing, lass.”

He cocked his head, considered her and continued. “You truly are verra powerful, and I’m impressed you’ve managed to keep as much control over your magic as you have. That said, I hope you will allow me to help you redirect it a wee bit.” His voice remained soft, his eyes more intense. “I hope you will allow me to help you bring to life your oak without losing your own life in the meantime.”

Lindsay might have found Conall all naked and sexy threatening enough to her senses, but she could fight that. She could, with great effort, look away. But this version of him? This genuine, caring, open version of him? She was utterly defenseless.

Hell if her knees didn’t weaken just staring into his eyes right now.

Pull yourself together, Lindsay, she preached to herself. Do not let him get too close.

“I was a pre-teen when it happened,” she blurted out the lie. “Someone was being bullied in school, and I wanted to protect them.” Lindsay rubbed her lips together, summoned just the right amount of moisture in her eyes and whispered, “I didn’t know what to do. I was too much of a coward.” She swallowed hard and released a shaky sigh. “The next thing I knew I was seeing through the eyes of the girl getting teased and standing up for myself.” She narrowed her eyes. “I was telling those bullies where to go, and it felt great.”

That had actually happened...just at a much later date.

Conall, meanwhile, watched her with a detached eye. His lips thinned, and his brow furrowed more and more through her tiny tale. Afterward, he just contemplated her.

“What?” she murmured, still acting the part of a broken woman sharing her deepest secret.

He eyed her for another long moment before he shook his head and stepped back. “I think ‘twill take more time than anticipated to teach you.”

She frowned. “Why? I’m a quick learner.”

“You are also a quick liar.”

When she narrowed her eyes, he shrugged in return, uncrossed his arms, and again leaned against the rock opposite her. “Mayhap we should move on to something I can at least attest to. Something I was there for. What happened last night with the warlock.”

“Right.” Lindsay uncrossed her arms as well, braced her hands against the rock behind her, leaned forward a little and narrowed her eyes. “How was it again that you saw me with that warlock? Because it almost sounds like you may have used your magic against my will.”

“I cannae in all honesty explain how I followed you last night, lass,” he relented, taking the high road it seemed as his level eyes held hers. Gorgeous, piercing eyes that had a way of constantly making her feel off-kilter.

“What I can say,” he continued. “Was that you couldnae hold that warlock’s attention as long as you thought. And there was fear in your eyes when you realized it.”

Lindsay worked to keep her breathing even as she remembered it all too clearly. First seeing out of Graham’s eyes and feeling what he felt. The horror. The need to protect his kin then being paralyzed and speared by something unnatural.

“I couldn’t get it away from Graham fast enough,” she whispered as her eyes held Conall’s. “It was going to destroy him before Adlin or anyone had a chance to stop it.” Lindsay straightened her shoulders and locked her jaw against the pure power, the pure terror that had come at Graham. Most of which she took with her when she no longer saw through his eyes. He had been wounded and didn’t need that evil to corrupt not only his mind but his body. “So I lured it away.” She shrugged. “I looked into its eyes and did what I do best. Enchanted.”

There was no missing the struggle in Conall’s eyes as he tried to navigate how to educate her in this. It was clear he was concerned for her but was trying to accept that she had handled it. Though she had put her life on the line, she had survived and saved Graham in the process.

“How are you so sure of your gift?” he said softly. “How do you even know how to somewhat control it without guidance? Without help somewhere along the way?”

There had been help. Advice. But she wasn't sure he was ready for that yet.

Caught by his own curiosity it seemed, he closed the distance and stood a foot or so away. The look in his eyes mixed confusion with, if she were not mistaken, fear for her. He was raw right now. Not concerned in the least how he presented himself. He wanted answers. Ones that he could understand.

But did she have them to give?

As their eyes held, she realized she was not just talking to Conall or Laird Hamilton, but the wizard within. The very creature that had not only created but protected her the night before from razor sharp ice.

A man with eyes she was starting to recognize.

Eyes that had been tucked away in her mind for far too long.

She pulled her gaze away, terrified at the thought. Terrified that she might already care for him.

“Lindsay,” he whispered, suddenly way too close as his strong fingers tilted her chin until their eyes met again. She swore this was the moment. Would he recognize her? Was she right about him? “Ye cannae do that again, aye? Ye cannae lure pure evil without knowing ye are fully in control of yer gift. He could have killed ye.”

“I know,” she whispered because she thought for sure he might be connecting the dots as readily as her. She licked her lips and tried to keep a steady voice. “That’s why you’re teaching me, right?”

His eyes fell to her lips as he whispered, “Aye.”

Blood started pounding through her veins as his gaze lingered, as she became overly aware of the heat of his fingers. Then the path left in their wake as they trailed over her chin, down her neck then spanned her collarbone.

Their breathing became choppier as he continued to touch her, watching his hand as though it had a mind of its own. He trailed two fingers down until they hooked loosely over the material between her breasts.

He struggled. She could see it in the way his pupils flared, and his hand trembled slightly against her skin. He didn’t want to desire her any more than she did him.

Yet here they were.

Not teaching and learning but drowning in desire again.

He wasn’t stepping back, startled and polite or overly uptight. Instead, he remained close. The heat of his body melted through her dress despite the six inches or so between them. Though she knew very well what was likely coming, he didn’t shrug off his fur cloak or the tunic beneath.

Her chest tightened, and she all but stopped breathing as he slowly cupped her breast and brushed the pad of his thumb over her nipple. He weighed it and continued to caress it as his eyes returned to hers.

The man looking at her now was not entirely Conall but a bit of everything inside. A chieftain and a wizard. More than that, a man filled with lust he wasn’t, for the first time, trying all that hard to fight. Somewhere in there, she knew he knew he should stop...yet he didn’t.

Her breathing grew more ragged as his eyes stayed with hers, he smoothly undid the ties on the front of her dress, and then scooped his hand beneath the material. She flattened her palms against the cool rock as sensations rolled through her.

Though tempted to give in and close her eyes, she kept them locked with his.

Because if she was not mistaken...he was daring her to.

Yet as he pebbled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while simultaneously caressing her breast, her head fell back, and her eyes drifted shut. The moment they did, his free hand slipped around the back of her neck, and his lips were on hers.

This was always where she lost herself.

When he kissed her.

Now was no different as he continued to manipulate her breast in unthinkably creative ways as his mouth closed more firmly over hers. As he grew hungry and demanded more.

But he wasn’t alone.

She was demanding more too.

Overly aware of his touch, his very proximity, she moaned, curled her fingers into the fur at his shoulders and pulled him closer. His large body caged her in but at the same time made her feel safe and free...wild.

Their kisses intensified and deepened as he left her breast and cupped the sides of her neck, his fingers caressing and warm. Then one hand traveled until he grabbed her ass and squeezed. She groaned and spread her legs, grinding against him as desperately as he was her.

She should stop.

He should as well.

Yet neither did as their kisses only grew more passionate and the heat between them blazed. The ache between her thighs had grown painful, and her whispered groans between kisses a desperate plea.

“We shouldnae,” he said softly against her lips somewhere in there, but it got lost in a need that was already way out of control. He pushed her skirts up while she yanked at the strings on his trousers.

“Conall...Laird Hamilton,” she whispered, not sure what to call him, then no longer caring as he hoisted her against the rock, shoved her skirts up the rest of the way, spread her thighs and pressed into her.

She gasped at his girth then flinched as he pressed deeper then downright groaned in pleasure as he kept going. Lindsay held onto the fur at his shoulders for dear life as he thrust deeper and deeper. Little lightning bolts of pleasure began to tingle and spread throughout her body as he moved.

As he filled her.

Their eyes met and held as long as they were able to before desire, and near frenzy took over. They were barely undressed, barely stable on the uneven rock at her back, but it didn’t matter. He kept one strong hand clenched over her ass, rolled his hips and thrust with more vigor than she anticipated.

“Ohhh,” she half moaned, half whispered as he drove into her. His hot, harsh breath was close to her ear, and his warm body created head-spinning friction against hers.

Nothing had ever felt like this.

Nothing made her feel so much.

There was no acting needed. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. 

Her hands cramped she gripped his fur so tightly, but she felt nothing beyond the sensual fire blazing between them. The pulse of her heart slamming in her throat. The harsh bursts of his breath as he thrust hard and deep, drilling her against the rock but at the same time pulling her so much closer to him emotionally.

It was impossible to describe.

All it took was him whispering her name on a low, lusty groan to spike an orgasm straight through her entire body. She locked up and belted out a wail before she swore the ground dropped right out from beneath them. Half a heartbeat later, he pressed deep, let out a ragged groan of pleasure and shuddered.

A thousand colors swirled around them, and it became impossible to breathe.

She felt weightless.

All she could do was feel, connect, be a part of the experience. It was far beyond anything she had ever felt. Beyond anything she had even pretended to feel. For all her long hours training to become an actress, she never once imagined it feeling like this.

Nothing could compare.

Nothing could touch it.

Her body trembled and shook as her insides quaked. Endless ripples of pleasure fanned through her in steady bursts.

“Who goes there?” came a deep voice, ripping her from her reverie. “What are ye doing to that lass?”

It seemed Conall already knew there was a problem because he had pulled free and lowered her skirts while supporting her, so she didn’t crumple to the ground.

The sound of a blade sliding free from its scabbard echoed through the cave followed by the masculine voice. “Did ye hear me?”

Conall’s eyes met hers, and he shook his head a fraction as he adjusted his pants.

“I guess ye didnae then,” came the same voice seconds before a dagger came around Conall’s neck and he was forced backward away from her.

Eyes wide, her body still quivering and trembling with the aftershocks of what he had made her feel, she tried to adjust herself and figure out what was happening. Only one thing snapped into focus though.

A pair of royal blue eyes she would never forget.

“Are ye well lass? Answer fast, or this man dies,” he growled, his blade already cutting into Conall’s neck as he awaited her response. Though she should have said a great number of things, most of which would preserve Conall’s life, she instead whispered three small words.

“Who are you?”

Though he hesitated a moment as though remiss to share as much, he ended up being far more honest then she anticipated.

“I am the Earl of Carrick.” His blade never budged. “Robert the Bruce.”

That could only mean one thing.

They had traveled through time again.