Page 67 of Highlander’s Bride

Raghnall chuckled. “Nae, lass, I may as well be the reason for yer death. I should have helped ye sooner to clear those rocks. I should have never kidnapped ye away from the castle. I should have insisted Angus send men to free the rock.”

“No. Don’t blame yourself. Tell me what happened? The last thing I remember is Euphemia jumping at me with her knife and then me passing out. What happened after that?”

He told her how he’d fought the guards and gotten to her. How he’d made the Ross army stop by threatening Euphemia’s life. How Robert the Bruce and some ally clans, including clan MacDonald, had arrived and put an end to it. How Euphemia got out of his grasp and jumped at Angus, intending to kill him, and how, instead, Raghnall had to kill her.

How he picked Bryanna up and ran to the underground, and how he got into the modern-day Eilean Donan where Sìneag helped him by opening the doors because the castle had been locked.

How Sìneag said she had made the rocks fall in the underground to give Bryanna more time.

“What a mischievous little faerie…” muttered Bryanna.

Raghnall proceeded to tell her how he ran across that bridge with her in his arms and found people and waited for an ambulance.

“That bloody cart of hell… I didna like it one bit. How can they move so fast? I almost shited myself.”

Bryanna had to smile. “I wish I’d seen your reaction when you first saw cars…people…buildings. Must have been quite a shock for you.”

He chuckled, the worried, pained expression relaxed and replaced by amusement for the first time. “Aye, ye can say that. ’Tis all…very strange, aye. The hardest part, love, is to let them do things to ye that I dinna understand or ken.”

Love? He called her love? Her heart flapped like the wings of a hummingbird. But she shouldn’t hope. She shouldn’t even dare hope he went through all this because of anything but obligation to her.

She brushed his hand with her thumb. “You did everything right. I’m alive. I owe my life to you.”

He shook his head. “Ye dinna owe me anything.”

Her heart was drumming in her chest, tension between her ribs painful, and she realized she was holding her breath as one question was aching to come out. “But…you’re here…so…what now?”

His dark gaze was long and full of emotion. “Now, lass, I stay with ye and make sure ye’re all right.”

His words released tension inside her, her whole being filling with lightness and sunlight, happiness spilling through her like stardust.

She couldn’t stop herself. She tugged his hand, pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissed him. This time, he didn’t resist. This time, he was right there with her, and she knew the thought of even a moment more together brought him as much happiness as it did her.

His lips were gentle and tender, showing her all that he was feeling, all that he had in his heart for her, and suddenly, it was so clear to her, she stopped kissing him, and leaned back and whispered, “I love you.”

He froze. Went so still, he could be a statue in human clothes. He sat back down, staring at her—glaring at her—making all the blood rush to her cheeks in a fiery wave.

“Ye canna love me, lass,” he croaked.

Her back straightened and she sat up, anger suddenly giving her more strength. How could a person go through so many emotions in such a short amount of time? Confusion, relief, joy and happiness, love, embarrassment, and now anger. This couldn’t be good for her blood pressure.

“You can’t tell me what I can or cannot do. And excuse me, but that is not a great response when someone tells you they love you.”

“I’m nae good for ye.”

“Well, yes, we’re perhaps the oddest couple one could imagine. I’m a modern-day American and you, a medieval Highlander… But time doesn’t mean anything. Distance doesn’t mean a thing. Background and history mean nothing. Despite all the differences between us, or perhaps because of them, I love you.”

His eyes watered. “Lass, what are ye doing to me…?”

A thought occurred to her, and it was as though a knife was struck right in her core. She was pouring her heart out to him, while bringing her back to her time was just him fulfilling his promise to her, his duty. He was a Highlander, who’d rather die than betray his honor and his word. And she was torturing him with her love confessions. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine—”

“’Tis nae that. Ye…ye’re so beautiful, and I dinna just mean ye’re bonnie. I mean ye’re the most pure, kindhearted, and courageous woman I ken. How can ye love someone like me? An outcast? A man that fails to protect the ones he loves?”

She felt even stronger now and tugged him to her again, and when he sat closer, she climbed onto his lap and cuddled into his arms, making sure her IV didn’t detach. His scent, his body were giving her the energy to live, to breathe, to want more.

“You’re delusional, buddy,” she whispered. “You just saved your clan and crossed hundreds of years to save my life. Now, be honest with me…” She looked up and met his dark gaze. It was soft and open, and she could look right into his soul. She loved it when he was like that with her, sweet and gentle and open and vulnerable. “What do you feel for me, Raghnall?”

He didn’t answer for a while, his throat working, his eyes blinking. “I love ye, lass,” he said finally, his voice croaking. “I had thought my heart was long dead, frozen in an eternal winter. But ye woke my heart up and filled it with so much love.”