Highland Mist Page 8

Her mouth dropped open for the second time. It was the woman from the castle. The one Conall wouldn’t allow to enter the bailey. “You know me?”

  “Aye, Glenna. I’ve been waiting for you for some time,” she said, and smiled warmly.

  “You’re Moira.”

  Moira laughed. “I see Conall at least told you that.”

  “You came to see me earlier?”

  “Aye. Conall refused.”

  Anger heated Glenna skin. How dare Conall. “What would you want with me?”

  “She wants to tell you lies,” Conall said as he came into the clearing.

  Glenna turned and looked at him and found his eyes fastened on Moira. Glenna looked from one to the other, and asked him, “Why won’t you let me talk to her?”

  But he ignored her words. “Come back to the castle, Glenna.”

  Moira turned her green eyes to Glenna. “You can’t stop destiny, Conall, no matter how hard you try.”

  “Aye, I can,” he thundered, and took hold of Glenna’s arm. “Stop calling to her, Moira. I don’t want to lock her in the castle.”

  “You couldn’t if you wanted to, Conall. What of the prophecy,” Moira said.

  Glenna looked from one to the other. “What prophecy? And why couldn’t you lock me in the castle?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told Moira.

  “You were told many years ago,” Moira said, and bent to pluck a yellow wildflower. “Could you have forgotten so easily?”

  Glenna was awed by Moira’s beauty and spirit. She was picking flowers in the face of Conall’s anger. Glenna didn’t have that kind of daring.

  “You don’t need her. Let her be,” he said, and turned to leave, pulling Glenna with him.

  “You made an oath, Conall. You can’t ignore that.” Moira’s voice reached them as they walked away.

  * * * * *

  The Shadow smiled and mulled over the new development. He had known Conall disliked the Druids, but he willingly kept a powerful Druid priestess from them. It wasn’t something he expected the laird of the MacInnes, sworn to protect all Druids, to do. This could well work to his advantage. If only MacNeil would hurry and arrive.

  He should have known better than to mix himself up with the likes of MacNeil, but he had been the only one who had the mentality it took. He hated to see Moira upset. He could easily kill Conall for distressing her, but killing Conall wasn’t going to be easy. Iona had put a protection spell on him before she had been kidnapped.

  But he hadn’t found that out until he had tried to kill Conall. Iona’s magic had been strong. Not as strong as his, but still strong enough to keep Conall safe. That was fine though. There were other ways to get to him, the Shadow thought with a smile. But it was growing late. He needed to return before he was missed. He had been careful so far. No need to ruin it now while he stood here and gloated.

  * * * * *

  Gregor rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes and leaned back against the tree once Conall had ridden away.

  It had finally happened.

  He had begun to feel again, and that didn’t settle well in his gut. In order to survive, he must keep all feeling as far away as possible. And it would have worked if he hadn’t met Glenna and Conall.

  Gregor grunted. Conall had offered him friendship without question or hesitation. Conall had even brought him into his home and welcomed him into the clan. For the first time in years he had yearned for his clan and the comfort of its colors. Glenna’s vulnerability pulled at him where his heart used to be. She was an innocent who had done something against her will and her entire clan condemned her for it.

  She also reminded him of his sister. The agony he had kept control of swooped in and clamped itself firmly around him. If he gave in to the pain he would be destroyed.

  With deep, slow breaths, he pulled away from the anguish and righted his world again. It gnawed at him to know he would eventually have to hurt these people, but that was his way.

  Had always been his way.

  Would always be his way.

  Which is why he kept all emotion and anyone who tried to be a friend as far away as possible. He hoped he would be able to pull this off. If not… He didn’t want to think what would happen.

  * * * * *

  Glenna waited until they left the woods before she asked, “Why do you hate Moira?”

  Conall increased his steps until she practically had to run to keep up with him. They walked around the castle until they reached the loch, her breath ragged and sides heaving from the trek.

  He stopped, his breath shallow and sweat sheening his skin. His hand dropped from her arm and she took a quick step back. She had seen that look in her da’s eyes and it usually earned her a smack on the jaw.

  A glance back at the castle told her they were far enough away that they couldn’t readily be seen, and she wondered what Conall had planned. A loud splash echoed in the silence. She turned and found him gone. A few moments later his head emerged from the water.

  “You can swim?” she asked, hating the awe in her voice.

  “Aye.” His eyes had lost their hard glint. “I needed to cool off. I always do after a talk with Moira,” he muttered.

  “She’s a Druid, isn’t she?”

  “Aye,” he answered, and dove under the water before she could ask more.

  He rose up, water running down his bare chest and arms that bulged with rippling muscle, down his sculpted belly to…forbidden places.

  She swallowed and tried to look away, but her gaze hungered for more of him. The more she saw the more she wanted.

  One corner of his mouth tilted up. “Come join me.”

  “I cannot swim.”

  “I’ll teach you, then.”

  Did he know what he offered? Could he possibly know how he tempted her? She licked her lips and looked at the castle.

  “We’re too far away for anyone to see. I’ll turn my back until you’re in the water,” he offered.

  Her mind screamed for her to do something rash. I just did something rash. I left the castle.

  Aye, but swimming with a man is definitely what I’d call rash.

  Her conscience was right. Conall was nearly naked…or naked. By the saints, she hadn’t thought of that. This was something she would never have done while at the MacNeil’s.

  But you aren’t with the MacNeils anymore. Grasp this opportunity with both hands because you never know when it’ll come your way again.

  “Turn around then,” she said, not believing her own ears.

  By the time she had shed her gown, shoes and wool stockings she was so excited she had to bite her bottom lip to stop the giggling. All that remained was her shift, and she was not taking that off. Just the thought of being that near to Conall naked sent her heart to beating rapidly and her breasts to tingle.

  With her arms folded over her chest she walked to the water and poked one toe in. It was cool but not nearly as cold as the stream they had stopped by. She looked for Conall but didn’t see him. Before she lost what little courage she had, she quickly marched into the water until only her head was visible.

  Her breath came out in a whoop when Conall’s hands clasped around her waist. She hadn’t heard him move.

  “I’ve got you,” he said into her ear from behind.

  Bumps rose on her neck where his warm breath grazed her sensitive skin. Her body responded instantly to his touch and craved more. She wasn’t given long to think of that as he took her into deeper water.

  His mouth moved next to her ear, and whispered softly, “Are you afraid?”

  She shook her head and wished she could see his face. She didn’t know what he planned to do, and it unnerved her. In the next heartbeat he turned her around and held her against his hard body.

  The angry reply dissolved from her lips. His eyes burned molten as the heat of his silver gaze melted her. Her body burned, but for what she didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted him to touch her.


  If she had thought he had nearly kissed her last night, she had been wrong. But she knew she was about to get her first kiss by the uncontrolled desire that lit his eyes.

  “You shouldn’t have come into the water,” he said, his gaze fastened onto her lips.

  Her breath came out in a whoosh at his words. He was dangerous, but only to her heart if she wasn’t careful. In truth, she wanted to throw caution to the wind when he was near. “I know.”

  His eyes rose to hers. “I don’t know how much longer I can resist you.”

  Glenna suddenly became afraid. There was no way she could give any amount of herself to Conall. He deserved much better than someone as much a monster as her father. Not to mention once he learned what she knew of Iona, he would hate her.

  With every ounce of her strength Glenna pushed away from him. When her feet didn’t hit bottom as she had expected she didn’t panic. She didn’t try to reach the surface. If she died this way Conall would never know of her sins and his view of her wouldn’t change to one of hatred.

  She feared that more than death.

  With a vicious yank she was jerked out of the water and deposited on the bank of the loch. She inhaled deeply and gazed at the clouds dotting the blue sky. She knew Conall loomed above her, but she couldn’t meet his eyes, knowing there would be concern in their silver depths.

  “If you didn’t want me touching you that’s all you had to say. There’s no need to drown yourself.”

  “That wasn’t it at all,” she said, and focused her eyes on anything but him. Until he rose up and leaned over her as water dripped from his face on to her.

  “Then why did you almost drown yourself?”

  Chapter Eight

  Conall’s body hummed with desire. He could still feel Glenna’s ample breasts pressed against his chest, her legs against his and her arms wrapped around his neck while her hands plunged into his hair.

  The need to kiss her had been overwhelming, and had she not moved, he would have done just that. He had promised himself not to get close to her, but his body obviously wasn’t listening.

  And he had taunted her to learn to swim. Ye saints! His brain was addled this day. Actually, he had been addled from the first time he had seen her. Her beauty alone had outshone any women he had ever seen.

  He looked down at her, her breathing still labored as she stared at his chest. Something was wrong. She wore her feelings for all the world to see, and she was troubled. It wasn’t the episode with Moira. It was something else.

  He reached out with his powers and felt her desolation and fear. Then he knew. Iona.

  He had put off questioning Glenna because deep down he knew she held the answers. It wasn’t something he could delay any longer. He rose and began to dress.

  Once his plaid was fastened he turned back to Glenna and found that she too was dressed and sitting on a rock, running her fingers through her wet hair. She had such abject misery radiating from her that he hesitated in questioning her.

  “You have some questions for me,” she said.

  Her face was devoid of emotion and it unsettled him. Her news wouldn’t be good. “Tell me all you know of Iona.”

  “She was brought to the castle about a year ago. MacNeil told me she would teach me…things.”

  “What things?” he prompted.

  She glanced warily at him. “Does it matter?” After a moment’s silence she continued. “I only saw her for about four hours a day and guards were always in the chamber with us. I asked her several times why she had been taken.”

  “Well? What was her response?” he asked more harshly than he intended.

  “That it was her destiny.”

  “St. Christopher,” Conall growled, and stood to pace some of his energy off. “Go on.”

  “One day she didn’t come. When I asked the MacNeil, he said I no longer needed Iona. I never found out what happened to her.”

  Conall’s heart squeezed painfully and his feet stopped in their tracks. He had pinned all his hopes on Glenna giving him the answers he needed. He didn’t know where to go from here.

  She turned and looked into his eyes. “I didn’t know she was your sister.”

  Now he knew why he stopped himself from kissing her. Deep down he had known she knew something, was somehow involved with Iona’s disappearance.

  He had to get away from Glenna. “I need to get back to the castle.”

  With a heavy heart, he started up the steep path and didn’t wait on her to follow. Part of him wanted her to run so he wouldn’t have to keep her around, reminding him of what he couldn’t have. But the other half…desperately wanted her to follow. That part of him needed her as he had never needed another person, and it scared him.

  How could that be possible? I don’t really know her.

  You do know her.

  Conall stopped and looked over the loch. It had been Iona’s favorite place, other than the stone circle. Nay. He couldn’t let Glenna go free. She was his prisoner. His.

  Mine.

  He turned and saw her still sitting on the rock, looking out over the calm loch.

  “Glenna.”

  She twisted and gazed at him with haunted eyes. She still kept something from him, of that he was sure. “Come,” he ordered.

  He waited until she neared before he continued up the path. If something had happened to Iona, if she was dead, he had to decide what he would do with Glenna. Sending her back to the MacNeil wasn’t a possibility.

  But neither could he allow her to live here. As it was, if she stayed near him another minute he would give in to the temptation and taste her lips, her skin, her soul.

  Once they entered the gates and reached the castle doors, he told her, “Go to your chamber until I send for you.”

  It was the only thing that would keep her safe from his desire. That and the knowledge she was a Druid, a MacNeil. That in itself should be enough, but his rod had been hard since that first contact in the water.

  “She told you.”

  Conall raised his eyes to find Gregor standing in front of him. “Aye.”

  “Is that all she told you?” Gregor asked, eyes hard and arms crossed over his chest.

  Conall narrowed his eyes. Whatever Glenna continued to keep from him, Gregor knew also. “I know she’s hiding something from me. I haven’t asked what, but I don’t think she’ll tell me as easily as she told me of Iona.”

  “And after all those questions you still aren’t closer to knowing anything, are you?”

  “Tell me, Gregor. Just how long were you at the MacNeil’s?”

  “Too long,” he answered, his eyes never wavering. “I don’t have a clan. I’m a mercenary. Hired out to whoever pays the most. Have I answered all your questions yet?”

  “Why is it MacNeil soldiers didn’t know who you were? One was about to kill you.”

  “I was rarely there, and then only a select few knew of my comings and goings.”

  “Just what were you hired to do?”

  Gregor’s black eyes turned a shade darker. His jaw clenched. “Gain your trust. Take over your castle and clan.”

  Conall drew his sword and pointed the tip at Gregor’s throat. All the men in the hall armed themselves, waiting for a word from him.

  To give Gregor credit he didn’t blink at the sword pressed into his neck. “Go ahead, Conall. It would be a relief to die and end this miserable life.”

  But Conall couldn’t do it. Beneath the hard exterior he felt Gregor was a good man. “You’ve gained my trust. Do I need to lock you in the caves to keep you from taking my castle and turning my clan over to the MacNeil?”

  One blond brow cocked itself. “You think I’ll tell you the truth?”

  Conall almost laughed. Gregor had no way of knowing of his gift, and he intended to keep it that way. “Aye.”

  After a lengthy moment of silence Gregor let out a long breath. “Nay. You’ve nothing to worry about from me.”

  Conall reached out to read Gregor but coul
dn’t get through this time. His gut, however, told him Gregor could be trusted.

  “I’ll tell you truthfully,” Gregor continued. “The MacNeil wants you dead. He’ll stop at nothing. Especially since you have Glenna. She’s precious to him.”

  “I know,” Conall said, and lowered his sword. He motioned to his men to do the same. “Tell me what she’s keeping from me?”

  Gregor shook his head. “That isn’t for me to do, and you know it. When she’s ready, she’ll tell you. Don’t be too harsh in your judgment of her though,” he warned.

  Conall didn’t like the fact Gregor was warning him, but what irritated him the most was that he was doing it on Glenna’s behalf. Regardless of what Gregor had said, Conall couldn’t help but think he and Glenna had known one another at MacNeil’s. It would explain how Gregor knew so much about her.

  Gregor snorted. “How many times must I tell you Glenna had never seen me before the day you came to MacNeil Castle?”

  Conall watched him walk away, his thoughts heavy. How in the saints had Gregor known what he had been thinking? Was Gregor a Druid as well?

  * * * * *

  Glenna sat on her bed and stared into the fire. Conall hated her now. It had been inevitable, but she had hoped the fantasy would go on a little longer before it came crashing down around her like everything always did.

  Fate hadn’t been kind to her.

  It had been crueler still to Iona.

  Iona. She had been Glenna’s first and only friend. Iona had even kept silent about where she had come from, never telling Glenna the MacNeil had taken her from her home. She mourned her friend’s absence and prayed she was still alive.

  A gust of wind howled through the narrow window and swirled around Glenna, sending her hair into her eyes.

  Glenna.

  She jumped off the bed and looked around the room. Someone had said her name, yet she was alone. What magic was this?

  Glenna. It’s Moira.

  “Moira?” she asked, and smoothed hair out of her eyes. “Where are you? I don’t see you.”

  Laughter filled the room. Think, Glenna. Iona was sent to teach you of your power.

  “I don’t have powers,” she whispered as chills rose on her skin, the wind lifting her skirts. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Gregor, after all, had seen what she was capable of.