GRAHAM HAD NEVER experienced such a riot of emotions. Where logic told him Christina’s feelings toward Robert the Bruce were none of his concern, everything inside him rallied against it. Truth told, he had been a breath away from drawing his blade on the Bruce when he pulled her into his arms. Then he had envisioned running it across his neck when he kissed her.

Now, this.

“He intends to marry ye?” he muttered after Robert left. “Bloody hell!”

“Well, I don’t intend to marry him.” She plunked down on one of the cots, clearly feeling out of sorts. Her thoughts brushed his. Fuzzy thoughts that moments before had seemed so clear. Almost as if she had been enchanted or cast beneath a spell. “I just really need some shut-eye. I’m wiped.”

He knew she was and had felt it from the moment she polished off her food earlier. It was as if something had settled over her. Something that urged her to rest and regain her strength. That in mind, he sat down beside her, took her hand and met her eyes. “Are you all right, lass? Are you feeling well?”

“You said you, not ye. Thanks.” A small but tired smile curled her lovely lips as her eyes stayed with his. “Honestly, I feel way off.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe even a little too wiped out all things considered.”

Touched that she felt comfortable enough to rest against him, he cupped her hands between his to warm them. “’Tis perfectly normal. You’ve been through a lot.”

“You have no idea,” she whispered.

“Nay, I dinnae,” he murmured. “But I would like to, Christina. Are we not friends? Do friends not share?”

“They do,” she said softly. “Or at least they’re supposed to.”

“Then share,” he murmured. “Not now but mayhap after you rest.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered. “I don’t care what Robert says. I don’t want to be alone, and everyone thinks we’re together, so it makes sense that you stay and watch over me.”

“Aye, then.” He had no intention of leaving anyway. “As promised, I will remain by your side.”

When she didn’t respond, he realized she had drifted off to sleep already, so he lay her down gently. Though she appeared to be sound asleep, when he pulled away, she clasped his wrist and mumbled, “Don’t go.”

Though it probably wasn’t the best idea to stay on this cot, he would not refuse her, so he rested beside her. With so little room he had to pull her back against his front. Unfortunately, the position was bound to test him. Had he ever been so aware of a lass? Had one ever fit so perfectly beside him?

She made no further comment, and her breathing evened. In the meantime, he made do with an uncomfortable erection and closed his eyes. While he had no intention of sleeping, he must have been more tired than he realized. Or more content. Either way, when he woke, she had turned and was propped up on her elbow eying him. He met her slow smile, not daunted in the least that she had been watching him sleep. Rather he found it...enticing somehow.

“Hey there, handsome,” she murmured. “You’ve been sleeping for a while.”

He glanced at the sliver of dim light filtering through the tent opening only to realize it was growing dark. “So it seems.”

She fiddled absently with the front of his tunic as she considered him. “Thanks for stickin’ around. I thought I might wake up to find you’d snuck off.”

“Och, nay, the thought never crossed my mind.” He grinned. “Not to mention I fell asleep.”

“So you did.”

“So I did.”

As their eyes held, and heat simmered between them, he realized she had woken up in a very particular mood. The same sort he had remained in based on his arousal. When her hand left his tunic, and her fingers trailed along his jaw he knew they were heading for trouble.

“It’s never been this strong afterward,” she whispered, fingering one of the small braids in his hair as her leg inched up his.

“What’s that?” he managed hoarsely, knowing bloody well he should pull away. Yet he was too caught by the curious, lustful look in her eyes. By the way she licked her lower lip then rubbed her lips together, spreading the moisture.

“After...well...”

When she hesitated, he prompted her to continue. “What lass?”

“After using what Granny called my lightn’,” she said so softly he barely caught it.

“Lightn’?” He looked at her curiously. “What is that?”

Unsure, Christina eyed him before she finally sighed. “Well, I’m gonna have to tell someone sooner or later, and I’d prefer you to be the first so here goes.” She pressed her lips together again as if rallying her courage then came out with it. “The lightn’ is my brand of magic, for lack of a better word. I seem to have animal-like instincts and quite often, superhuman strength.”

“Hence you catching that arrow before it hit Ma,” he murmured.

She nodded. “Hence that.”

“Why did your granny call it your lightn’?”

A small smile curved her lips. “She always thought I was lighting up when I used my magic, so she called it my lightn’ which is really lighting.” She shrugged and offered a lopsided grin. “We southerners don’t make the ‘ing’ sound too much in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I verra much like the way you sound,” he murmured. “’Tis easy on the ears.”

“Is it?” Her brows shot up, and she chuckled. “Can’t say I’m told that too often.”

“Well, it is.” He slipped his hand into hers. “Now tell me more about this gift. And why your granny thought it lit you up.”

Interesting considering he had thought Christina was so sunny when he first met her. Almost as if she glowed. And he had thought that every moment since. His cousins hadn’t commented on it, so he assumed it was just part of the way he looked at her. Now he wondered if mayhap it was more than that.

“There’s not a lot to say about it except that it comes in handy for a variety of things,” she said. “As to Granny thinking it lit me up, she always said it was a combination of how the sun seemed to shine down on me when I used it and then, of course, the charity runs and how happy they made me.” She grinned. “She said I lit up on both the inside and outside.”

A chill ran through him. So her granny had seen the same thing he did when she looked at Christina. Except he saw it all the time.

While he should probably get up and put some space between them, he enjoyed being near her too much. “Tell me more about these charity runs.” He grinned. “We’re friends after all, aye? And friends share.”

“That they do.” Yet he could tell she was hesitant. That she wasn’t all that comfortable talking about herself. “Well, like it sounds, I run to raise money for various charities.” Her cheeks reddened slightly. “And I often use my magic when I do.” She shook her head. “Never money for me but whatever cause I think needs it most at the time.”

“That’s verra admirable,” he said softly, threading his fingers with hers. “Yet you sound guilty.”

“Sometimes I feel that way,” she admitted. “But I can’t help myself. I’ve got this gift, and a lot of people need help.”

“You’ve nothing to feel guilty about,” he replied, more impressed by her than ever. “Not if you use your gift to help others. Is that not the verra definition of a gift? To give something good to others?” He kept his eyes on hers, offering the praise she so richly deserved. “I’m verra proud of you, lass. You are a rare sort.”

“Not really,” she murmured. “You’d be amazed how many people try to help others. Sometimes I’m truly astounded because so many of them barely have money of their own.” She shook her head. “But they have two feet and put them to good use.”

“When did you first learn of your gift?” he said, already wondering how it might work alongside his to defeat a warlock...if that is, they were to fight one together.

“Oh, I was little,” she said absently.

That, it seemed, was the question that finally drove her off the cot.

“’Twill be verra important for me to know,” he persisted as he followed her. “’Twas what eventually helped Conall and Lindsay defeat their warlock.”

“There really wasn’t any defining moment.” She shrugged and didn’t meet his eyes. “I think it was a culmination of mini-events that made up my childhood.”

Graham was about to ask her more when Lindsay called out from the tent entrance, “Anyone awake in there?”

Before they had a chance to respond, she ducked in followed by Conall.

“Hello, darlings.” Lindsay’s eyes flickered curiously over the tousled bedding on one cot before she smiled at them. “How are you feeling? Did you rest?”

“I think I’m gonna let you keep guessing.” Christina winked then gestured at the ale. “We only have two cups, but we’re more than willing to share if you’re thirsty.”

“Nay, we’re fine but thank you.” Conall’s eyes flickered from the cot to them as well. “Kenna is safe with Grant who wanted us to come speak with you before you joined the others.”

“Sit on down then.” Christina gestured at the chairs, grabbed a mug of ale then perched on the edge of the cot. “So what’s going on? Everything okay?”

“So far, aye.” Conall frowned. “But Grant is concerned about a few things. Mainly, the timeline and location of the battle. Not only is the area wrong, but the first day of the battle is supposed to happen on the twenty-third whereas right now they’re planning to attack the Sassenach on the twenty-second. Though he’s not sure how it’s all related yet, Grant’s of the mind that the Bruce’s marital status or lack thereof is somehow part of the problem.” His eyes settled on Christina. “And that, he’s guessing, must have something to do with the connection you two have made.” He tilted his head. “’Tis unusually strong, aye?”

“Um...” Her eyes shot to Graham then back to Conall before she nodded. “Strong enough I suppose.”

Lindsay narrowed her eyes. “Since when are you not direct to a fault?”

Christina frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Please.” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Rare is the day I hear um on your lips. Even rarer is when you don’t tell me exactly how you feel about a man or anything for that matter.”

Christina buried a grumble in her mug before taking a few sips.

“So it’s as strong as Grant suspects for both you and Robert then,” Lindsay murmured as her eyes went to Graham. “And obviously pretty strong for Graham too.”

“Very strong for Graham,” she replied dutifully, staying in part. “As to Robert, it’s...there.”

Graham ignored a flash of irritation. How there was it exactly? How much did she desire Robert the Bruce?

“Be that as it may, Christina,” Lindsay replied. “Grant’s beginning to think the draw between you and Robert and the fact that he doesn’t think he’s married might very well be due to your warlock.”

“My warlock?” Christina mouthed before taking another swig of ale.

“Both of yours. The warlock that is.” A flicker of amusement lit Lindsay’s eyes as they met Graham’s. “Seeing how you’re fated to be together and all.”

“At least the gem already glows the color of Graham’s eyes,” Conall remarked dryly. “So they are well-prepared.”

“Right, there is that.” Lindsay sat next to Christina, took her hand and eyed the ring. “You’re so lucky that it worked its magic right away, dear.”

“Don’t I know it.” Christina cocked a grin at her. “Love at first sight.”

“So it seems.” Lindsay eyed the tousled cot again. “Even so, we must remain focused. And that focus, I’m afraid, is on how monumentally wrong things will go if you end up with Robert the Bruce.”

“Why?” Christina said. “What’s the big deal?”

Graham frowned not only at her words but her thoughts swirling through his mind. She couldn’t stop herself when she responded to Lindsay. It was almost as if she was compelled. Or did she actually feel that strongly about Robert? More than anything, she was confused, and Graham felt how unnatural that was. Usually, she had a clear mind and knew what she wanted. 

“What’s the big deal?” Lindsay said in response to Christina, her eyes wide. “The big deal is even if he doesn’t remember, Robert the Bruce has been married for twelve years.” Her eyes went wider still. “Not only that but his wife, Elizabeth de Burgh, was taken alongside his daughter nearly eight years ago. She’s one of the people he’s supposed to barter for after all this is said and done.”

Lindsay shook her head then continued. “And while many say they were man and wife in name only, Grant suspects it might have been more than that. He thinks getting her back was  Robert’s driving force in the upcoming battle.”

“Uh huh.” Christina bit the corner of her lips, nodded and narrowed her eyes. “So just to be clear. Robert and me having the hots for each other is what...the warlock’s doing? Because if we end up together, it’s going to somehow ruin Scotland’s history?”

“Aye,” Conall confirmed. “’Tis not the way things are supposed to go.” His eyes went from Graham back to her. “You are meant to be with a MacLomain, lass, and no other.”

“That’s the plan.” She grinned at Graham, her smile not quite reaching her eyes this time. “Right, darlin’?”

“Aye.” He again warred with an onslaught of emotions. The ever growing desire to keep her close and the promise he had made to Kenna. “We are together well and true, so the warlock willnae use us to accomplish his goals.”

Yet he worried. Was he putting his promise to a lass and her clan before the safety of his country? Would such a thing not destroy Kenna and her kin just as readily? His eyes met Christina’s again, and he ground his jaw. He had never felt more conflicted.

“Good then.” Lindsay nodded and looked between Graham and Christina. “Just as long as you two are together and nothing happens between Robert and Christina, we should be just fine.”

“But if you are not truly together,” Conall gave Graham a pointed look, “then I highly suggest you get busy changing that.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Lindsay stood, patted Christina on the shoulder then took Conall’s hand. “But what are we worrying about?” She tossed a grin at the cot. “Because they’re clearly together.”

“These two are killin’ me.” Christina’s words floated through Graham’s mind without her knowing. “Could they be any more obvious?”

“The Bruce has requested that everyone join him at the fire outside his tent,” Conall said. “Before you do, I suggest you two have a talk and make bloody well sure Robert knows where your hearts lie when you join us.”

Before they had a chance to respond, Conall and Lindsay left.

“Bloody hell,” Graham muttered as he plunked down at the table and took a deep swig of ale. “We havenae got them fooled in the least, lass.” He shook his head. “I dinnae think we have any of my kin fooled for that matter.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep working at it, sweetie,” she replied optimistically, downing a good swig of her own ale as well.

“And here I thought Robert was your sweetie,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well, I’ll be.” She set aside her mug, planted her hands on her hips and eyeballed him with a little grin. “Are you jealous, Graham MacLomain? For real?”

“Versus for fake?” He snorted but couldn’t help a small grin to match hers. “So what if I am a wee bit? ‘Twould only help our cause and make things appear more believable betwixt us, aye?”

“That it would,” she agreed, still eying him with amusement as she sat across from him. “You’re not starting to develop feelings for me, are you?”

“Nay,” he replied a little too quickly. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He kept grinning. “Are you developing feelings for me?”

“Lord, no.” She shook her head. “That just happens after I use my lightn’.”

Confused, he looked at her in question.

“Oh, I thought you might be referring to my interest in you when you first woke up,” she explained.

Now, this could be fun. “Your interest?”

“Heck, yeah.” She chuckled and was so blunt he had to smile. “The sort of sexual interest to match the ragin’ erection you had.”

“’Tis normal when sleeping next to a bonnie lass,” he enlightened, so bloody charmed by her he felt like he had tunnel vision every time he looked at her.

“Sure thing, honey, whatever you wanna tell yourself.”

Seemingly restless, she stood and began stretching.

“’Tis hard for you to sit still for too long, aye?” he said. “You like to stay active.”

“Sure do.” When she wrapped her hands together and stretched her arms over her head, her breasts pressed against the front of her dress. So much so that he had trouble looking elsewhere.

“That’s how you stay so slender despite your appetite,” he murmured as she began doing things that accentuated her in all the right ways and made his brogue thicken. “Ye burn off food as fast as ye eat it.”

“Pretty much,” she commented. “Using my lightn’ creates an incredibly strong need for nourishment, rest and oftentimes sex. A whole lot of sex.” She bent over and grabbed her ankles, muttering, “What I wouldn’t do for some yoga pants right now. Or even running pants.”

Eyes glued to cleavage begging to be released, his words were hoarse. “I ken the food and rest but why sex?”

“I don’t know. It just evens me out somehow. Like cravin’ an icy cold sweet tea after a mid-summer’s nap. You just gotta have it. Lots of it.” Her sparkling eyes met his, and the corner of her mouth shot up. “It refreshes like nothing you’ve ever felt.”

He had never viewed sex as particularly refreshing, but he would certainly take her word for it.

“Oooh, and hell if I don’t get all sorts of crazy energy,” she continued, watching him with the devil in her eyes as she dutifully apologized to her granny for swearing again. “Nothing is more wild and untamed than post lightn’ sex.” She blew her hair out of her eyes and fanned her face. “I just wish it could be that way more often.”

It can. I could see to that. As often as possible, he thought.

“Aye,” he whispered, too dumbfounded to manage anything more coherent or dashing than that. Good thing too considering he was set to marry another woman.

“We should...” He cleared his throat a few times. “Return to the cot.”

Her brows slammed together, and she smirked. “Return to the cot?”

“I mean fix the cot.” He downed his ale. “So that Robert doesnae come in and think...”

He trailed off, frustrated that he cared. But he did. He had to. Right? Truthfully, he was all turned around. They should leave the cot in disarray so that Robert knew they were definitely together, but he felt guilty because of Kenna.

Yet as his eyes lingered on Christina, his desire for her only grew stronger. He had never wanted to return to bed as much as he did right now.

“There we go,” she announced, not spending much time on the blankets before she turned and grinned. She knew full well where his mind was, yet she had a way of making him feel all right about it. As if it was the most natural thing in the world. She gestured at the tent entrance. “Are you ready to go play our parts then?”

Graham nodded, opened the tent flap and gestured for her to go first. As she passed, she did the last thing he expected. She came close, murmured, “Thanks for being such a gentleman. Now let’s get a bit more practice in for all to see,” and pulled his lips down to hers.

It was probably a good thing they were more outside the tent than inside because he would have had her back on that cot in no time. She tasted of ale and lass, and he wanted to sample far more of her as their tongues met and danced. The way she kissed him made every muscle lock up in sweet anticipation.

He wanted her beneath him, over him, wherever she bloody well pleased just as long as they were without clothes. He wanted to run his hands all over her while she spent her lightn’ energy down to the very last drop in his arms.

They were both so lost in the kiss that neither heard Robert approach.

“Och, laddie, ye’ve put in yer time, aye?”

While tempted to pull her closer, deepen their kiss and show Robert the Bruce just how much time he was willing to devote to Christina, he gently ended the kiss instead. Her eyes lingered on Graham’s, her body trembling against his in need, as he cupped her cheek. “Are ye well, lass?”

He knew she was. That she was from the moment they kissed. The problem was the deepening connection between them. The very real desire they thought would be easy to control.

“I’m good, Graham,” Christina finally responded before she nodded. “So much better than I thought I would be...ever expected to be.”

“Aye,” he said softly, unable to tear his eyes from hers.

“As I said,” Robert came alongside, “ye’ve put in yer time, aye?” He looked between them. “Both of ye.”

“We have,” she whispered, her eyes still with Graham’s until they drifted to Robert’s. What he saw at that moment was alarming. The ‘walking on a cloud’ place she had been with Graham became something else when she looked at Robert. More so, it was instant.

Adoration. Desire. Flat out lust. But too much too fast. Unnatural.

Dark magic.

He didn’t doubt it for a moment.

Or at least influenced by dark magic as Grant suspected.

Robert held out his elbow to her. “Walk with me, lass?”

“It would be my pleasure,” she said softly and with more flirtation than usual. “Where are we off to?”

“Not far.” Robert shot Graham a smug look before they headed back toward the Bruce’s tent. “We’re enjoying freshly caught venison and good company before a busy day on the morrow.”

“Doing what?” she asked.

“Ye’ll have to wait and see.” He grinned. “’Tis hard to know if ye’ll be interested but I hope so.”

She met his smile. “Why not just tell me?”

“And ruin the anticipation?”

Christina’s smile lit up her face, managing to make Graham’s groin tighten despite his growing concern and aggravation. Though he remained close even as they joined the others, it felt like she was worlds away. Never once did she glance his way.

Eventually, he joined Kenna to see how she was doing.

“I’ve never seen ye look at a lass like ye do her,” she remarked softly. “’Twas how I once looked at Fraser.”

“Och, nay,” he tried to deny, but Kenna gave him a knowing look then shook her head and murmured, “I dinnae want to take that sort of happiness away from ye, friend. ‘Tis not right. Ye deserve true love more than most.”

“No more than any other.” He frowned at her. “And I dinnae deserve it so much that I’d sacrifice the safety of yer clan for it, lass.”

“Ye mean my safety,” she said even softer. “Because of Fraser. Because ye feel ye owe it to him.”

“Nay.” He frowned heavily and shook his head. “Dinnae ever speak like that, lass. Are we not friends then? Have we not been for a verra long time?”

“We have,” she conceded as her eyes dropped. “And well ye know it, Graham MacLomain.” Her eyes rose to his. “And nearly more at one time if I recall correctly.”

“Aye,” he whispered. There had been a time before Kenna and Fraser fell in love that something nearly ignited betwixt them. But it had been brief and never acted upon. Now he realized as their eyes held she hoped mayhap they would find it again. That the long years in between had not dulled the embers entirely.

As their eyes continued to hold, he realized that would be a hard line to cross. In truth, at that moment he realized despite his intentions to marry her, loving her would feel like a betrayal to Fraser’s memory. That, he thought as his eyes flickered back to Christina, was half of it anyway.

“She is verra bonnie,” Kenna said, following his line of sight. “And verra kind too I think.”

“Aye, kinder than most,” he agreed. And far more bonnie. But he did not voice that. “And braver.”

“’Tis good,” she remarked. “Because there is nothing but danger here.”

He nodded. He knew.

“Yet she has the protection of the Bruce,” he reminded.

“Aye, if that’s what ye’d call it.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at Robert and Christina. “I’d say there’s just as much danger there as anywhere else.”

Kenna possessed no magic but had always displayed a remarkable sixth sense.

“Aye then?” he said.

She nodded and murmured, “There’s nothing but trouble ahead if those two find love.”

Graham clenched his jaw and frowned as he tore his eyes from Christina and focused on the fire. Again, he felt incredibly conflicted.

His eyes went to Kenna’s when she rested her hand on his arm.

“Yer making this more difficult than it needs to be,” she whispered. “Because ye should only ever follow yer heart.”

“My heart’s torn,” he said softly.

“Aye, betwixt yer obligations to me and yer desire for Christina.” She shook her head, her eyes pained. “Just trust yer heart to lead ye in the right direction, and my guess is there willnae be a divide in the least. That all will work out as it should.”

“Ye have more faith than most,” he murmured. “When life hasnae been all that kind to ye.”

“Kind enough since ye and yer kin came into it,” she reminded, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “Kind enough that I did find love in the end, no matter how short lived.”

He nodded, squeezed her hand and was about to say more when Bryce’s words floated through his mind. “We’re close, Cousin, but we’ve run into trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The kind that happens when men the size of Sven and I cross paths with what have to be Robert the Bruce’s smallest soldiers.”

Moments later, a man raced through the encampment and cried out, “Trouble afoot! Danger!” He shook his head. “But at least we’ve already downed one!”