Page 32 of Desiring the Highland Laird (Highland Destiny #1)

E vie hurried back to the keep as fast as her legs would take her. Her lips still tingled in the aftermath of Callum’s kisses.

They were everything she had imagined them to be and more. Her heart pounded hard and fast. Her legs burned with the exertion. But she didn’t stop until she made her way to her bedchamber and burst through the door. She slammed it, leaning against it, trying to catch her breath.

Telling him she felt as though they were meant for each other was as though she had told him she was in love with him. What the devil was she thinking? She wasn’t in love with Callum.

Was she?

Yet, his reply was not one of dispute. He agreed with her.

She closed her eyes, pressing the tips of her fingers against her lips, remembering how magical his felt against hers. How the heat of his body washed over her. How the hard lines of his chest pressed against her. How she bent her head back and allowed him to kiss her thoroughly.

She needed to be kissed more thoroughly, though. To make sure her feelings were correct.

A chill skittered up her spine. When she opened her eyes, she saw the abandoned hearth.

The logs were still stacked neatly in the holder.

She kneeled by the hearth, threw on several bricks of peat as Roslyn had shown her and then lit it.

A moment later, the flame sputtered to life, emitting warmth.

The flickering brilliance lit up the room.

Heaving a sigh, she decided it was time for her to retire for the night.

If they were to ride for two days to meet his clan chieftain, she needed to get some rest. She lit the candle by the bed, then removed the stone from her pocket, pausing a moment to run her finger over the jagged edges beneath the cloth.

She placed it on the bedside table by the candelabra.

She tugged the tie off the end of her hair to remove the braid, letting the strands fall loose about her shoulders.

It felt good to run her fingers through the tangled locks and over her scalp.

She wasn’t used to wearing her hair up so much and her head was tender from the constant tension of her braid.

She would have to find a new way to wear her hair.

She slipped out of her overdress, remaining in her shift as she pulled back the thick blankets from the bed. She left her thick stockings on since her feet were still cold.

As she climbed into bed, pulling the covers to her chin, she wished she had a book to read to occupy her mind. She was bored, and with nothing to do, it allowed her mind to run amok with things she should not be thinking.

Things like Callum’s lips. The way he kissed her. The way his eyes sparkled in the half-light with something akin to adoration. She wanted to believe he adored her, but who was she kidding? He was a sexy medieval Highlander and she was…

Well, she was nothing but a plain girl with freckles on her face and boring brown eyes. All that was going for her was her red hair.

A swift knock on her door startled her. She sat up, staring at it while clutching the bed covers to her chest, wondering if she should answer. Wondering who could be at her door this time of night.

Another faint knock.

“Who is it?” she called.

A pause, then, “Callum.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. Her hands started shaking.

What was he doing at her door? Had he changed his mind about her going with him tomorrow?

She slid out of the bed, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders before padding to the door.

She pulled it open a crack. He stood on the other side of the door, his eyes wide as his gaze went over her face then the length of her hair hanging in waves about her shoulders.

She shifted from one foot to the other. She was not uncomfortable—she could never be with Callum—but his gaze was so intense it was unnerving.

As though he were seeing her for the first time.

“Yes?” she said, peering up at him.

His face softened and something about the way he looked at her made her want to fling open the door and fall into his arms. She remained where she was, holding the door so tightly, her fingers cramped.

“Och, lass, I came to tell ye…” He paused, took a step back and raked a hand through his hair. He seemed nervous, which was unlike him.

“Tell me what?” she asked.

Her voice was even and cool like she wasn’t expecting bad news.

Like she was hoping for something else. Perhaps not a declaration of love, but…

what? What did she want from him? Frustration edged through her.

What was she even thinking? He was not interested in her like that.

He kissed her because…well, she didn’t know why he kissed her.

He swallowed hard, his throat moving. “We willna be going to see the chieftain on the morrow.”

Shock rolled through her. Something had changed. But what? “We won’t?”

“Nay.” He didn’t elaborate.

“Why?” she asked, confused.

“Mayhap I could come in and tell ye what I’ve learned,” he suggested.

Her brows rose. “You want to come in?”

“God’s teeth,” he swore under his breath. “I ken the hour is late but I came here to tell ye…” He paused again and shifted from one foot to the other. He blew out a breath and met her gaze. “I saw Moira.”

Her blood turned to ice as her body stiffened with surprise. “Moira? The shopkeeper?”

“Aye.”

She stared at him a long, hard moment as her heart thudded and the blood whooshed in her ears. She pushed open the door wide for him to enter and stepped aside.

“I hope you have whiskey with you for this story.”

His handsome face broke into a grin. “Should I get some ale, then?”

A laugh bubbled up her throat as she waved him inside. “I was kidding.”

He stepped through the door. She closed it behind him, then wasted no time pulling the chair over from the other side of the room in front of the hearth.

She offered it to him while she perched on the foot of the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

He eased down into the chair, which was much like the one in his chamber.

She had a vision—a reminder of her all too erotic dream. Immediately, she pushed it aside. Now was not the time for that.

“So, you saw Moira?” She did her best to sound casual, as though it did not affect her.

“She came to me in the stable after ye left,” he said.

“She came to you? Like in the flesh?”

He nodded.

Her skin prickled with gooseflesh. She clutched her elbows. “You sound surprised by that.”

In truth, she was surprised by that. How was Moira able to travel through time without the keystone to see Callum? Who exactly was this mysterious shopkeeper? She watched his face as the firelight flickered over it. There was acceptance in his expression.

“Aye,” he said slowly. He glanced toward the tapestries behind the bed. “I understand now.”

Evie tipped her head to one side. “Understand? Does that mean you believe in the prophecy? You believe I’m from the future?”

“I do,” he said.

She thought she would feel some relief over hearing that admission come from him but she didn’t.

Now that he believed her, now that he knew, what did that mean for her?

She fought the urge to look at the stone on the table beside the bed and instead focused on him.

There was more he hadn’t shared with her.

“What else?” she heard herself ask. Though she had tried to remain strong, her words wobbled.

“She said war is coming.” His gaze flickered to the tapestries. As if on impulse, he rose and walked toward them. She turned and watched as he pointed to the one with the three women. “These are the three goddesses: Moira, Bridget, and Athea. They are the Triple Goddess.”

Ah, so this Moira was a time goddess.

“And this.” He pointed to the army moving toward Moira standing on the hilltop. “The MacDonald clan. They want the Chronos Stone.”

“The Chronos Stone?” She moved from the bed and joined him, soaking up the warmth from his body as she stood next to him. She folded her arms, clutching the edges of the blanket.

“Aye,” he said, his voice low and slow. “That’s what she said they called it.

They broke it into three pieces—the night of the Shattering—to keep it from the MacDonald.

” He turned to her then. “She said the MacLeods and the Sinclairs were there that night. They pledged a vow to her—that the clans would forever protect the stone and keep it safe.”

She stared at him a long moment as her mouth went bone dry. She recalled something Hamish had said to her. “One divine destiny.”

“Aye.”

They stared at each other, the only sound that of the flickering fire. The truth pounded through her. Her destiny was forged in the promise of an ancient clan she had never known existed—until now.

“I was meant to come here,” she said then.

Nodding, he said, “I believe ye were.”

Her heart thumped a wild beat as she lifted her gaze and met his eyes. The truth flickered deep within those blue depths. The truth he had finally acknowledged.

“And I was meant to find you.” Her voice was but a whisper.

Again, he nodded.

It was a deep understanding that pounded through her, too. If she was meant to come here and meant to find Callum, then she was meant to stay here. The thought of returning home faded from her mind in that instant.

“Together we have to protect the stone.” She looked at the piece wrapped in the handkerchief on the bedside table. “But what about the other pieces?”

“I cannae say,” he said, “but it seems to me they’ll arrive here in the past.”

Her head snapped up. A wild spurt of hope shot through her. “Then that would mean my sisters…”

Her words drifted away. It was definitely too much to hope her sisters were meant to travel back in time, too. That meant at some point she would be reunited with them.

“Aye, and my brothers.”

She lifted a brow in question. “The six of us?” she asked, thinking of her and her two sisters.

“We are the ones destined to put the pieces back together and protect the stone.”