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T he following morning it was hard for Isolde to keep the besotted smile from her face. Thankfully, her sisters had still been asleep when she’d returned to their chamber, but after she had slid into bed beside Roisin, slumber had eluded her.

Doubtless she would pay for her lack of sleep later, but today was Njord’s last day before he left Eigg, and she intended to spend the entire time with him.

“Ye don’t look too sad that Njord is leaving on the morrow.” Roisin gave her a concerned glance as they dressed in front of the fire in their chamber.

“Ye don’t look sad at all .” Freyja raised her eyebrows, and while Isolde didn’t especially want to keep the wondrous hour she had spent in Njord’s arms from them, it was something she would share once he had sailed.

But for now, it was a magical secret she hugged close to her heart.

“He’s determined to discover his past,” she said, scrutinizing her boots so she didn’t have to look at her sister. She had the feeling that, if she wasn’t careful, Freyja might very well guess what she’d been doing earlier this morn. “But he’s grown fond of Eigg, and I’m certain he could be happy living here, should he wish.”

And after what they’d shared, she was more than certain he’d be happy to remain on Eigg. Once his memories had returned.

Or even if they don’t.

“Eigg is not the only thing he’s grown fond of.” Roisin gave a dreamy sigh. “And if he decides to stay, it won’t be because he’s fallen in love with the Isle.”

It was only when Freyja gave her a keen glance that Isolde realized she was smiling like a smitten fool. It was too late to try and hide it, but she did her best by opening the door and letting the dogs in.

*

As they broke their fast, she assiduously avoided her grandmother’s pointed glances and kept her attention on Njord.

“’Tis predicted to be a fine day,” she told him. “I shall take ye to the peak of An Sgurr, just as I promised. When ye take in the magnificent view, ye might change yer mind about leaving.”

She knew he wouldn’t. But he had promised he would return, and she believed him.

His stormy eyes were so full of heat when he caught her gaze, the warmth made her very toes curl inside her boots.

“Ye know there’s only one reason why I’m leaving.” His husky whisper caused havoc to her insides, and it took all her willpower not to slide her fingers between his. But her grandmother was already giving her wary glances, and she’d do nothing to raise her suspicions further and risk being ordered to attend to some mundane tasks within the castle, instead of spending the day with Njord.

“Aye. But if ye haven’t returned before the first sign of spring, ye can be certain I’ll gather a contingent and follow ye to the mainland.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” His amused grin fairly took her breath away. “God willing, I’ll have found my kin and have my own contingent by then.”

She was certain he would. But despite how deeply she believed in him and his word, it didn’t stop a tiny sliver of doubt in the back of her mind. If he discovered he had nothing to his name, would his pride overcome his honor, and instead of fulfilling his promise to return, would he disappear into the Highland mountains?

*

Dawn was just breaking as they left the castle, and they made their way through the heather and bracken moorland, with Njord carrying a satchel she’d filled with a picnic. He also carried a thick blanket on his back, and once again he’d tied his black hair with a length of velvet.

It was hard to keep her eyes on the rocky track when he presented such a delectable figure by her side. But since she had no wish to fall and injure her pride, never mind break a bone, she had to be content with frequent sideways glances.

He paused, tipped back his head, and eyed the formidable wedge that dominated the landscape. Its steep face that towered over the castle was impossible to climb, but by following the rugged furrow that wound around the far side of the ridge, they would eventually reach the final slopes that led to the summit.

“I’ve never seen a mountain like it,” he said.

She didn’t ask if some of his memories had returned, the way she had earlier in the week when he made similar comments. It seemed his mind remembered certain things, and it was only the most important elements of his life that remained swathed in fog.

“That’s because there is no other mountain like it,” she teased. “And no other isle like Eigg, either.”

“I believe ye.” He tossed another bone-melting grin her way, and heat bloomed between her thighs as she recalled the magic his mouth had kindled when she’d been in his bed. The breath caught in her throat and her heart quickened, sending delightful ripples of awareness across her skin. She had never imagined such rapture could exist, and without him taking her maidenhead, too.

She swallowed a groan of frustration, grateful that the incessant wind that blew across the moor snatched the sound away before Njord heard it. How would she survive the following months without him?

But there was still tonight. And she planned on visiting him, aa soon as the castle fell silent, so they could enjoy such bliss again.

His arm slipped around her waist, and he brushed a possessive kiss against her temple. She released a sigh and leaned against his welcoming strength. “When ye look at me with such passion, the only thing on my mind is how much I want to ravish ye.”

“That’s good to know,” she responded. “I should be mortified if I was alone in wishing to ravish ye within an inch of yer life.”

He laughed, and the sound sank deep into her blood, warming her from the inside out.

“Ye’re far too tempting for my peace of mind, Isolde. A man can only take so much.”

How she loved it when he said such things to her. How odd that she’d never craved any man to profess such devotion for her, until she’d met Njord.

And how easy it was to believe Roisin was right, when she said it had been a sign that Njord had washed up on their beach. They were meant to be together. And in her heart, she was certain he was of Clan MacDonald.

As they scrambled over the slippery rocks, laughing and pulling each other onward, a bittersweet pain pierced her breast at the knowledge that by this time tomorrow, he would be on his way to Oban.

She’d give anything if only he decided not to board the ship and sail away from her.

At last, they reached the summit, and the plateau spread out before them. The sun glinted on the calm, azure sea, with a clear view of the archipelago of the beautiful Small Isles. It was truly the perfect winter’s day, with only a few light clouds and no dense fog to spoil the panorama, and Njord expelled a breath of appreciation as he surveyed the view.

“Worth the climb?” she enquired as she unstrapped the blanket from his back and laid it on the ground. They would likely still get damp, but it would surely be worth it to spend time alone with him.

“’Tis certainly a sight.” He cast his gaze to their close neighbor, the Isle of Rum, its mountainous terrain rising through the sea mist and seemingly touching the clouds above. “I see why ye love yer isle, Isolde.”

“Ye should see it in spring.” And, with a little luck, he would. “Come, hand me the satchel. I’m famished.”

They sat on the blanket, and she pulled out the oatcakes and pasties she’d packed earlier, as Sjor chased elusive scents to hidden burrows. And when they’d eaten their fill, Njord wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a lingering kiss.

She snuggled against him, sliding her arm around his waist and holding him tight. Could this day be any more perfect?

His sigh echoed through her, reaching places inside she didn’t even know existed.

“Will ye still want me if it turns out I’m one of the cursed Campbells?”

She laughed and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “I’d do my best. But I still hold out hope ye’re a MacDonald.”

He grunted and pulled her on top of himself as he lay back on the blanket. “No MacDonald, nor Campbell neither, could care for ye the way I do.”

Her heart melted. “Ye care for me, do ye?”

“Ye saved my life.”

She gave him a mock frown. “I don’t want yer gratitude.”

He leered at her. It was most enchanting. “What do ye want from me, my lady?”

“That would be telling. Ye must work it out for yerself.”

“An impossible task.”

She folded her arms across his chest and dropped a kiss upon his lips. “I’m certain ye’ll manage it.”

His hands roamed down her body and gripped her bottom. Even through all the layers she wore, she fancied she could feel the heat of his palms branding her skin.

The way he had branded her in the night.

Thrills raced through her at the memory, and desire stirred, strong and hot. Lord, she wanted him so.

“Stop yer wriggling.” His voice was raw. She wriggled again, even though she hadn’t been doing it on purpose before. He let out a tortured groan. “Ye’re killing me, woman.”

“There are worse ways to go, I’m sure.”

“And better ones, too, I’ve no doubt.” He gave her a feral grin. “But I’d rather not think of such things when I’m with ye.”

“Tell me what ye think when ye’re with me.”

“’Tis not fit for a lady’s ears.”

“I promise I won’t be shocked.”

He wrapped his arms around her hips, so securely she imagined she could feel his magnificent rod, even beneath the thickness of his plaid. A jagged breath escaped, as she recalled how his wondrous body had felt beneath her exploring fingers.

How desperately she wished to touch him again.

“Ye’re doing it again.” His groan was the most alluring sound she’d ever heard. “I believe ye only brought me up here so ye could torture me in peace.”

“Ye could be right.” She shook with silent laughter as she stole another kiss. He plunged his fingers through her hair, anchoring her head, and plundered her mouth until she could scarcely breathe, never mind think.

The frenzied thunder of her heart filled her head, and only when Njord broke their kiss and swore under his breath did the sound of Sjor’s barking penetrate her passion-drenched senses.

“Someone’s coming,” he muttered as he rolled her onto her side and clumsily straightened her skirts. She sucked in a sharp breath and glanced hastily around. Sjor was at one side of the plateau, barking out to sea.

She expelled a relieved breath. “No one can climb that sheer cliff. There’s only one way to reach this summit, and that’s the way we came.”

He was already on his feet, casting a grim glare at the way they had come. With a sigh, she stood, too, and taking his hand led him over to her dog. “What is it, my bonny lad?”

She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun. A ship was sailing in the waters far below, heading directly for Eigg.

Unaccountably, a shiver raced along her arms.

“Huh.” Njord turned to her. “More visitors. Maybe they can shed light on my origins.” The skeptical smile that accompanied his words belied his optimism, but she smiled back, since he clearly expected it.

“That would be good.” And then she brightened. It would be more than good. It would mean he would no longer feel the need to leave tomorrow. “We need to head back, anyway, if we want to reach the castle before dusk falls.”

The sun was already dropping below the horizon as they entered the great hall. Aside from the usual castle servants and warriors, her sisters and grandmother were also present, standing beside the fire.

And so were a dozen foreign Scots.

Once again, unease shivered through her, and she had the mad urge to grab Njord’s hand and run back out into the night. But even if she had planned on following such foolishness, it was too late now, as her grandmother had seen them.

She took a deep breath. Whether these men knew Njord or not, all would be well.

One of the strangers swung about, and Njord faltered by her side. She cast him a searching look. Did he recognize this man?

“God’s bones, William.” The stranger strode across the hall and grasped Njord’s arm, before pulling him into a bear hug and thumping his back with his fist. “We thought ye were dead, man. We’ve been searching the islands for ye since the storm broke.”

The stranger released him and stared intently into Njord’s face. A slow frown crossed his features. And then he spoke.

“Hugh?”

“Aye.” Hugh sounded vastly relieved, and Isolde gripped her fingers together as her stomach churned with sudden nerves. Njord did know this man. What else could he recall of his life? Nothing?

Everything?

“Christ.” Njord sucked in a ragged breath. “The storm. Someone hit me on the head, Hugh, and tossed me overboard. It was no accident.”

Someone had tried to kill him? She stared at him in horror. There had been many things she’d wondered about him, but it had never occurred to her he’d ended up in the sea because someone had tried to murder him.

Hugh’s voice dropped. “We’ll find the man responsible.” Then he appeared to notice her and bowed his head. “Forgive me, my lady. My actions are unpardonable, but I’m so relieved to discover my cousin is alive and well.”

Njord gave Hugh—his cousin—a friendly and obviously familiar punch on his arm. His grin was entirely inappropriate, considering he’d just discovered someone had tried to kill him, and another ripple of unease snaked along her spine.

What am I missing?

Then he turned to her. “Lady Isolde, allow me to introduce ye to my cousin, Hugh Campbell.”

Hugh bowed, but she scarcely heard his formal response. A loud buzzing filled her head, and only one word penetrated.

Campbell .

Njord’s cousin was a Campbell.

God’s bones, William. That was what Hugh had said when he caught sight of Njord, and the churning in her stomach turned nauseous.

William Campbell.

Of Argyll?

“Aye,” he responded to whatever Hugh had said. “Lady Isolde of Sgur Castle, the lady who saved my life. And my intended bride.”

No. No . This could not be happening. Her noble Njord could not have deceived her so. Yet he stood beside her, a satisfied grin on his face, as he claimed her for his bride in front of the entire hall.

When he attempted to take her hand, her wits returned, and she hastily stepped back, out of reach. He frowned, as if he didn’t understand, and a great vise squeezed inside her chest, making it all but impossible to drag air into her starved lungs.

She’d always believed Clan Campbell would stoop to any depths to secure what they coveted. The history of their isles, and how Campbells of the past had pledged allegiance to the Crown, told that story plain enough.

But to feign memory loss, to invoke her sympathy and lead her on a dance of deception... ah, God. She could scarcely fathom it.

“Isolde?” He sounded so concerned. Didn’t he realize his masquerade had cracked open, and now she could see him for what he truly was? Nothing more than a liar. “Are ye well?”

All eyes were upon her. If only the floor would open so she could disappear and not have to face this utter humiliation. But she was the eldest granddaughter of Sgur Castle, and the honor of her foremothers rested upon her shoulders.

She summoned up the frostiest glare she could muster, and despite his great height did her best to look down her nose at him. He would never discover just how deeply his pretense had shattered her.

“Quite well.” Thank God her voice didn’t quiver with the turmoil shredding her breast. “Alas, it’s no comfort to discover the Campbells are as lacking in honor as I always feared.”

With that, she turned on her heel and left the hall before she disgraced herself for all time by allowing a tear to escape.