As soon as Ronan woke the next morning, he wanted to take back his agreement of having Kara accompany him to see the chieftain of Clan Sudrach. He didn’t know what to expect at the meeting. What if he and his men were met with violence? To make his visit seem as neutral as possible, he was only bringing two men with him—Osgar and Luag. How could he protect her?

Kara woke just after him, giving him a smile that made her look even more lovely as she sat up. She studied his tense expression and stiffened, as if sensing his hesitation.

“Do we leave now?” she asked, slipping out of bed and covering her luscious curves with her nightdress. She turned to face him, her green eyes flashing with challenge, as if daring him to go back on his word.

Ronan’s body ached with tumult and desire as he took her in. She was a vision of loveliness, her golden hair tousled, the sleeves of her nightdress slipping to reveal the fine curve of her shoulders. He’d kissed those shoulders the night before as he’d pounded into her, burying his face in the softness of her strands. The memory made his cock harden, and he turned away from her, swallowing hard.

“Aye,” he said curtly. It would do no good to convince her to stay behind. Knowing Kara, she’d follow him anyway. “But I meant what I said Kara. Ye’re tae be silent. If ye donnae obey, I’ll have ye sent back here.”

“And I gave you my word,” Kara said, her lips tightening into a thin line. “I won’t do anything foolish. I just want to help.”

“Good,” he said, approaching her, his gaze sweeping down to the high bodice of her night dress. He already regretted what he was going to say, but if she was to come with him, it was necessary. “My first order starts with what you’re going tae wear tae this meeting.”

“And what is that?” Kara asked, giving him a wary look.

Moments later, Kara stepped out the front door of the manor wearing the gown he’d ordered Aislin to dress her in. It was a daring gown the color of crimson, the bodice cut low. A jolt of desire darted through him—along with a ripple of jealousy. He wanted the chieftain to think Kara was a low-born mistress of his, someone he didn’t care for and was merely with him to sate his lust, and she needed to dress the part.

But now he doubted his own plan as he saw just how desirable she looked in the gown. He didn’t want the chieftain—or any man—to look at his Kara, his witch, with desire in that sinful gown.

“I think I understand what the plan is,” Kara said with a sigh, adjusting her bodice as he took her hand and led her to waiting carriage. “Wait. You don’t want me to . . . seduce anyone, do you?”

The jealousy that struck him at her words hit him with such force that he yanked her against his body, not caring who was watching.

“Never,” he hissed. “Ye’re tae stay at my side, silent as a frightened animal, do ye understand? I hate that any other man gets tae gaze upon yer loveliness, but I need him tae think ye mean nothing tae me, that ye’re just a body tae warm my bed. But we both know ye’re more than that.”

It was more than he wanted to confess, but it was true. He didn’t want to think about the day when she left his side to return to her own time. Kara’s eyes flared with emotion and she nodded, looking away from him.

They were silent during the carriage ride north; Kara’s quickened breathing and clenched hands revealed her tension, tension that matched his own. He gazed out the window at the surroundings to calm himself. He rarely ventured to this part of the Highlands, spending most of his time at the castle and the lands around his manor; Eadan was the one who made lengthier trips for diplomatic talks with other clan leaders. At the thought of his cousin, uncertainty pierced him. This was the first diplomatic meeting he attended on his own. Ye can handle it, he reassured himself, though doubt clouded his mind.

Kara seemed to sense his edginess, reaching out to lace her fingers through his, giving him a reassuring smile. He returned it. He hadn’t realized how comforting her presence was until now.

The carriage soon arrived at a lone castle that stood out among the craggy, dark green hills that surrounded it.

“Wow,” Kara whispered at his side. “It looks like the lair of a villain right out of a horror movie.”

He turned to her with a puzzled frown.

“Movie?” he echoed. “Wow?”

“Wow is a term of surprise,” she said, her lips twitching. “As for the word movie . . . that requires more explanation. I’ll have to tell you later.”

A rush of warmth coursed through him at the image of Kara in his bed later, explaining some of her strange words from the future. The thought comforted him; it was something to look forward to after they took care of this unpleasant business with Clan Sudrach.

“I’m just trying to say this castle doesn’t look like it’s the home of the nicest person in the world,” Kara continued.

He returned her amused smile and followed her gaze to the castle. Castles were meant to appear foreboding; they were fortresses built to keep intruders out, but this one did seem particularly sinister. But his amusement faded as their carriage made its way to the gate house.

“Remember what I said,” he said, his expression turning firm. “Ye’re tae stay silent, and if I tell ye tae get back tae the carriage ye’ll do so.”

“I will,” she promised, giving him a firm nod.

They arrived in the small circular courtyard and stepped out, where several rough-looking clansmen greeted them. They gave him, Luag and Osgar curt nods, their appraising and lustful gazes then sweeping to Kara. He moved to stand in front of her, blocking her from their view, and their eyes glinted with annoyance as they turned, leading them down a long corridor and into a massive great hall.

In the largest chair in the center of the hall, a chair that resembled a throne, sat a tall, broad-shouldered man with cruel silver eyes and long dark hair streaked with gray. This was Tarag, chief of Clan Sudrach.

Ronan abruptly froze. Not at the sight of the man, but at the dark-haired woman who sat at his side.

It was Elspeth.