Bree slept better than she had in days. The mattress, stuffed with feathers rather than straw, was beautifully comfortable and the blankets thick and cozy. She fell into a deep sleep only interrupted by dreams of a golden-haired warrior who stood on the edge of a cliff looking out over the sea. She kept calling to him and although he turned to look at her, he wouldn’t answer. She woke with a start in the middle of the night to see Alex still sitting by the fire with his sword across his knees.

“Go back to sleep, lass,” he said softly. “All is well.”

The next time she opened her eyes gray early morning light was falling through the windows. Something, a squirrel perhaps, was running around on the roof making a racket and a pigeon was cooing from a tree nearby. She sat up, seeing her breath mist in the air before her. Alex had been right: the spring nights and mornings were colder than she was used to.

The fire had died down to smoldering coals and the candles had burned out. There was no sign of Alex.

She threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, hugging herself to keep warm. She padded over to the fire and crouched in front of it. A whole array of iron-wrought hearth tools sat in a rack by the fireplace so she hefted a heavy poker and poked at the fire until it sprang into life. Warmth soon began stealing through the room and she held her hands out to the flames eagerly and then sank into one of the well-stuffed chairs.

I’m really here, she thought. I’m in the sixteenth century! I’m not dreaming. I’m really here. With Alex.

Ah, Alex. She couldn’t even begin to sort out the tangled mix of emotions he evoked in her.

The door handle suddenly rattled and Bree jumped to her feet, spinning around holding the poker. Alex strode in, coming to a halt when he saw her standing there, weapon raised. Was that amusement shining in his storm-blue eyes?

“Well, I’ve had warmer welcomes,” he said drily.

Bree hastily returned the poker to its rack. “Sorry. You startled me.”

“My apologies. I didnae want to wake ye, ye had quite a day yesterday.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That might just be the understatement of the century. Where have you been?”

He lifted a small hessian sack and a long pole with a line attached. “Catching breakfast.”

Breakfast turned out to be a huge brown trout. Whilst Bree washed and brushed her teeth with a shredded piece of willow made for the purpose, Alex busied himself with cooking breakfast on the fire. He moved with practiced ease, as though he’d done this many times before. He expertly prepared the fish and then fried it with wild herbs until a delicious smell drifted through the lodge. Bree’s stomach growled.

They ate in companionable silence but Bree kept glancing at Alex. He fascinated her. Who was he really? Why had he traveled to the future to retrieve a family heirloom? And where had those scars on his back come from? She longed to ask him but dare not.

After breakfast Bree busied herself with cleaning the dishes and then tidying the lodge ready for their departure whilst Alex went to see to the horse. By the time she’d finished, the lodge looked as though they’d never been there. She just hoped this Lord Donald guy wouldn’t begrudge them spending the night here.

Alex returned and cocked his head as he looked at her, his eyebrows pulling down into a frown.

“What?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

“Ye canna go about my time dressed like that, ye would call too much attention. We mustn’t let anyone discover yer true origins until we reach Dun Carrick. It would bring awkward questions.”

Bree looked down at her jeans, loose sweater and ankle boots. Ah. Yes, she didn’t exactly look like she belonged here.

“What do you suggest? I didn’t bring a change of clothing. You should have warmed me you were planning on bringing me to the sixteenth century—I would have hired a costume.”

Alex crossed to a large wooden chest near the bed and pulled open the lid. He rummaged around inside and pulled out a long silver dress.

“This looks to be about yer size, lass. Try it on.”

Bree ran her hand down the material. “It feels like silk. Who does it belong to? I can’t just take someone’s clothes without their permission.”

“Dinna worry, lass. Lord Donald likes to bring his...er...female acquaintances here from time to time. He keeps spare clothing for them so they can...er...dress to his tastes. He willnae even notice it’s gone.”

Bree’s eyebrows shot up. “So this belongs to some lord’s floozy?”

“I dinna know that word, lass.”

“You know exactly what I mean, Alexander Murray!” She blew out a breath. It was a beautiful dress, no matter who it was meant for. “Give me a minute and I’ll try it on.”

Alex turned his back whilst she pulled off her clothes and struggled into the dress. It wasn’t easy. There were so many hooks and buttons that for one horror-filled moment she thought she might have to ask Alex for help. How embarrassing would that be? But with perseverance she managed to get all the hooks done up.

“What do you think?” she asked, holding out her arms and doing a little twirl. “I bet I look ridiculous, right?”

Alex turned, his stormy gaze taking her in from head to toe, before settling on her face. “Nay, lass,” he breathed. “Ridiculous is not the word I’d use to describe ye.”

There were no mirrors in the lodge but the look in Alex’s eyes made Bree’s cheeks warm.

She cleared her throat. “Okay. Great. We’d better get going hadn’t we?”

She stomped off before he could reply, her boots seeming very out of place beneath the silk gown but at least it was long enough to cover them.

Outside, the horse was saddled and ready to go. As soon as she approached she realized another problem. How on Earth was she going to get on the thing wearing a dress?

“Here,” Alex said from behind her.

Before she could react, Alex grabbed her around the hips and easily lifted her onto the horse. She settled into the saddle, soon realizing from the way the dress rode up her legs that it hadn’t been designed for riding. Didn’t women in this time usually ride side-saddle or something? Well, there was no way she was doing that! She had a hard enough time staying in the saddle the usual way.

She swept the dress down over her legs as best she could, wishing for the jeans that were safely stowed in the saddlebags, and then Alex swung up behind her and she went tense all over again. The saddle creaked under his weight and she heard the slight rustle of his clothing as he shifted position.

Bree closed her eyes and sucked a breath through her nose. Images of Alex’s naked body, dripping from the pond, filled her mind. His scarred, beautiful body. Oh, God. This would be hell. Absolute hell.

Her fears were confirmed a moment later when Alex clucked to the horse and they lurched into motion, the movement throwing Bree back against Alex’s hard chest. It felt like hitting a wall of granite—albeit a warm one.

His hand settled on her waist to steady her. “Are ye all right, lass?” he asked.

No! she wanted to shout. Of course not! How can I be all right when you’re so close by?

“Yep. Couldn’t be better,” she croaked. She gripped the cantle with both hands and stared determinedly ahead. She hoped they reached Dun Carrick soon.

***

When he was a child, Alex’s aunt had insisted that he and his cousin attend chapel every Sunday. They’d listened, not really interested, as the priest described Hell as a place of fire and brimstone where the damned went for all eternity. He’d been wrong. Hell was nothing like that. Hell was riding behind a stunningly beautiful woman whose scent filled your nostrils, whose every movement mesmerized you, and not being able to touch her.

Alex could barely concentrate on the path ahead. It was lucky that Shadow knew these roads and needed little guidance because Alex’s churning thoughts left little room to spare for the journey.

When Bree had turned around wearing that dress this morning, Alex was sure his eyes must have been bulging from his head. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Her hair had been tousled, falling around her face in auburn waves, the color of the dress accentuating her pale skin and eyes as green as spring leaves.

Lord help him, he’d fairly lost his breath, unable to speak. Unable to do anything but stand and stare like some drooling idiot. That ache was back in his groin again. It had been since the moment she’d put that dress on and riding with her mere inches in front of him wasn’t going to ease it any. Lord, but he hoped she didn’t notice. That would be mortifying. He was her protector. What would she think if she realized he was lusting after her like some rutting beast?

He forced his concentration back to the road. They were traveling south west along a little-used trail that wound around the edge of Lord Donald’s holdings. Not many people lived out this way. The soil was poor with little to support livestock. Instead the land became mostly scrubland with groves of stunted alder and rowan and a thin covering of moss over the stony ground. Alex liked to come out this way whenever possible. Here there was solitude where he could forget for a while.

But as they traveled he began to grow uneasy. There were signs on the trail that other people had been this way recently. The signs were subtle and easily missed unless you’d spent most of your life scouting the wild as Alex had. A broken branch here, a washed out hoof print there. He had little doubt that they would be Lord Donald’s men, men from his own company.

What were they doing out here? They didn’t normally patrol this desolate area. Might they be out looking for him?

Alex turned his head from side to side, scanning the terrain. He’d been gone from Lord Donald’s holdings for two days now. Although that wasn’t unusual—Alex often went scouting alone—he and Lord Donald had parted on bad terms. Had the lord decided that Alex had abandoned him? Had he sent his men out to drag him back?

He found his fingers tightening on the reins and forced his hands to relax. What would Lord Donald do if he discovered him with Bree?

All will be well, he told himself. It’s likely a couple of the lads out here trapping rabbits or some such. There is nay need to worry.

He remained alert for the rest of the day, his hand straying to the hilt of the sword strapped across his back at the slightest noise.

But as night began to fall they’d seen no sign of anyone and Alex began to relax. Bree had fallen asleep and leaned back against Alex, her weight feeling comfortable against his chest. A strand of her hair tickled his chin but he made no move to brush it away. He guided Shadow as carefully as possible, trying not to disturb her.

Up ahead he spotted the place he’d decided to camp for the night. A circle of moss-covered standing stones loomed out of the woods, creating an almost perfect circle inside which lay an old fire-pit. Alex guided Shadow into the circle and then pulled him to a halt. The stones were almost as tall as him and had stood in this glade since time immemorial, having been placed here so long ago their origins had faded into myth. It was a place of protection, some said. Others said it belonged to the fae and that to trespass here would bring terrible luck down on the transgressor.

All Alex knew was that he’d camped here many times before and naught untoward had happened.

“Bree, lass,” he said gently. “Wake up. It’s time we stopped for the night.”

Her eyes opened and she looked around blearily. “Whassup?”

“Sorry?”

Her eyes focused and she bolted upright. “Oh! Did I fall asleep?”

“Aye, lass. We’ll camp here for the night.”

She turned her head, taking in the standing stones and her eyes widened. “Oh my! This looks like it might be Neolithic. Is it a henge monument?”

Alex looked at her, baffled. “A what?”

“A henge. Is there an accompanying ditch and entranceway?”

Alex just shook his head. “I’ve nay idea what ye are talking about. Once we’re settled maybe ye can take a look.”

Alex swung easily out of the saddle and then helped Bree down. She slid from the saddle in an ungainly heap and Alex caught her before she could hit the ground. She staggered but he held her upright.

“Thanks,” she said with a sheepish grin. “I’m as stiff as a board. How do you manage to ride all day and then still be able to walk come the evening?”

Alex shrugged. “Ye get used to it.”

Whilst Alex saw to Shadow and unloaded their provisions, Bree hurried up to the standing stones and began examining them closely. She pulled away undergrowth that had grown up to the stones’ bases and then paced around the circle using long strides as though measuring the distance between each. Alex had no idea what she was doing but he watched from the corner of his eye, fascinated. A look of concentration came over her face and a furrow between her eyebrows. If anything, it accentuated her beauty.

Alex forced himself to concentrate on arranging the camp. He’d brought supplies from Lord Donald’s lodge to supplement what he already carried in his saddlebags but it wasn’t much. He had a very crude tent that was little more than a few pieces of cloth sewn together and held up with a pole—and it was only big enough for one. They had dried meat and some fruit for dinner. He was too tired to hunt tonight and besides, he daren’t risk leaving Bree alone in this place.

Bree returned from her examination of the standing stones, her eyes alight with excitement.

“Ye look pleased with yerself, lass.”

“Definitely Neolithic I reckon. It’s not a henge—there’s no ditch so I assume it was originally built like this. Stone circles are normally placed in prominent places rather than in woodland.” She craned her neck, looking up at the surrounding trees. “I’m guessing this landscape has changed a lot in the millennia since this was constructed. I’ll bet back then it was open moorland or something.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, feeling his mouth pull up into a smile. “Whatever ye say, lass. If I’d have known ye enjoyed this kind of thing so much I could have shown ye others. There are many scattered around the Highlands. Fairy glades, most call them.”

Bree laughed, a clear, beautiful sound that rang around Alex like the tinkling of bells. “This place is truly bringing out my inner history nerd and you’re only making it worse, Alexander Murray! You shouldn’t offer such things—I’ll have you ferrying me around the Highlands for years if you let me!”

She meant it as a joke but Alex looked at her sharply. That would be fine with me, he thought. To have ye by my side for years? That would be a grand thing indeed.

Bree’s smile faltered. There was only an arm’s span between them although to Alex it felt much larger. He wanted to close that gap, step into her and pull her close so there was nothing between them at all. But he didn’t.

Bree laid a hand on his arm. A tingling wave of energy shot through him from her touch. It sizzled all along his body—and straight into his groin. Desire, as hot and consuming as a bonfire, burned through him.

He ripped himself away from her and stomped to the edge of the clearing. “Stay here. I’m going to collect firewood.”

A flash of confusion and hurt lit her eyes but Alex hardened his heart. It was better this way. If he let her touch him like that he would be undone. He mustn’t let her see how much he desired her—it would frighten her. Lord help him, it frightened him.

He didn’t go far and kept the clearing in sight. By the time he returned with his arms full of firewood, Bree had taken charge of the camp. Shadow, untacked and brushed, was happily munching on grass to the side of the clearing, their gear was stowed in the lee of one of the standing stones and Bree was finishing setting up the tent. He paused at the edge of the clearing and watched.

Unaware of him, Bree stepped back and inspected the tent. Seemingly displeased about something she rearranged the pole in the middle so that it stuck up straighter. Satisfied, she nodded.

Alex cleared his throat and stepped into the clearing, dumping the armload of wood by the fire-pit. “Ye’ve been busy, lass,” he noted.

Bree shrugged. “It’s not like I had much else to do. Hungry?” She folded onto the ground with her feet tucked beneath her and offered him a piece of dried meat from the saddlebags.

He took it and sat opposite her, chewing on the tough meat whilst arranging the wood into a pile in the fire-pit. He’d used this camping place often and the ring of river-worn stones he’d arranged as a fire-pit was blackened and soot-stained. A wry smile tugged at his lips.

“What are you grinning at?” Bree asked.

Alex shook his head. “Naught, lass. I was just thinking what a strange twist my life has taken. I’ve camped here many times but if ye had told me I’d one day be camping here in the company of a lass from five hundred years in the future I would have thought ye were daft in the head. Now look at us.”

Bree snorted a laugh. “Yes, look at us. I keep thinking that this is all a dream and I’ll wake up in a minute.”

He looked at her. “A bad dream?”

Her eyes met his. “No,” she whispered. “Not a bad dream. Not at all.”

There it was again, that unspoken something that hung in the air between them.

“I’ll start a fire,” he muttered. “It’ll be cold tonight.”

It only took him a few moments to get a fire going. He knelt over it, blowing into the flames until they crackled merrily. Bree held her hands out towards the heat.

“That’s nice. What I wouldn’t give for a hot bath though. You do have baths here, right?”

Alex nodded. “Aye. We aren’t savages ye know. Ye may have to wait until we get to Dun Carrick though unless ye want to bathe in a stream or pond we come across. I wouldnae recommend it, though—the water will mainly be snowmelt at this time of year.”

Bree shivered. “No thanks. How long till we reach Dun Carrick?”

“The day after tomorrow if the weather remains fair.”

Bree made a face. “That long? How am I supposed to wait until then? Us twenty-first century girls are used to our creature comforts, you know?”

She was teasing him and he felt a little spark of satisfaction that she felt comfortable enough in his presence to do so.

“Dinna worry,” he said with a mischievous smile. “If ye get too ripe I’ll just chuck ye in a pond.”

Her eyes widened in outrage. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Alex smiled. “Best not to test me, eh?”

Bree pursed her lips and glared at him but humor danced in her eyes. “We’d best hope the weather stays fair then hadn’t we? I must admit I’m looking forward to meeting your mom. I bet she has some tales to tell. What an adventure she’s been on! Think of all the things she must have seen first-hand—things we in the future only dream of. I wonder what we’ll find in Dun Carrick?”

Alex sobered at the mention of his home. What would they find indeed? Not the warm welcome Bree was expecting, at least not for him. He picked up a stick and began poking at the fire. He had no desire to talk about Dun Carrick or his family. Lord save him, he didn’t even want to think about them. Memories of the day he’d left were still raw, like an unhealed bruise that ached when he poked at it.

“Ye will take the tent tonight,” he said. “I know it’s probably a bit rougher than ye are used to—”

“It’s fine,” Bree cut in. “I love camping. I used to go with my dad all the time when I was little.” She looked away suddenly, a shadow passing across her face. “But that was a long time ago.”

“And now?” Alex asked, eager to learn more of her. “Do ye have a family back home? Children? A husband maybe?”

She smiled, a little wistfully. “Neither. It’s just me.”

“Good.” Then, realizing how that sounded, he quickly added, “Good that nobody will be missing ye, I mean.”

To his surprise she laughed bitterly. “Yep, you got that one right. My mom will hardly notice I’ve gone, my dad even less than her and my friends all know I’ve moved to Edinburgh.” Sadness filled her voice and Alex hated to hear it. How come she was alone in her time? How come someone hadn’t snapped her up? She deserved happiness. She deserved a husband who loved her and a warm family around her.

“What about you?” Bree asked. “You must be looking forward to seeing your family again.”

The question took him by surprise, igniting old feelings of pain. He looked away and stared into the rapidly darkening woods. He could no longer see Shadow but heard him ripping up tufts of grass nearby.

“Things between me and my family are...complicated.”

“Is that why you left?”

“I left for many reasons.”

“Such as?”

“My reasons are my own—and I dinna wish to discuss them,” he replied.

Her eyes reflected the firelight as she watched him. How could he tell her the truth? How could he tell her what he’d done, the mistakes he’d made? She would see him for the ruffian he really was and Alex wasn’t sure he could bear that. Better that she go on thinking him a better man than he was. Better that he carry on trying to be that man.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry—”

“It’s late,” he cut her off.  “Get some sleep. We have an early start in the morning.”

He wrapped his cloak around him and laid down with his back to her. After a moment he heard her get up and make her way into the tent. When he was sure she’d gone inside he sat up again and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Irene MacAskill’s words suddenly rang in his head. Whilst ye are there ye will find something of great value. All along Alex had assumed she meant his great-uncle’s medallion but now he realized he’d been mistaken. The precious thing he’d brought back wasn’t an item at all. It was a person.

It was Breanne Martin.