Page 57 of Keeping Kate

Alec chuckled. “Miss MacCarran, I bow to your logic. Come on.” He walked her forward, lifted her into the saddle, and swung up behind her, pulling her to lean against him. “Are you comfortable?”

“Not really.” She turned to look at him. “You learned my name.” She held out her hand. “We had a bargain. I would like my necklace now, please.”

He lifted a brow. “I had to guess the name.”

“I confirmed it. And I will have my crystal chain from you.”

“Very well.” He stretched two long fingers into an inside pocket of his jacket. “You did not think to look there, did you,” he drawled, pulling out the silver chain and polished clear quartz. He pooled the necklace into her palm.

She closed her fingers over it, and such relief lit her face that he wished he had given it to her sooner. “Thank you.”

“What is so important about that whigmaleerie of yours?”

She bowed her head and reached up to fasten it, fingers fumbling. Alec helped her close the clasp. Her tense shoulders reminded him that he was her captor and not really her lover, no matter what might have happened between them.

“My family has handed it down for generations. They call it a fairy crystal.”

“Ah. They do say there was a fairy in the MacCarran line once.”

“Fairy blood in us,” she said, “and a hand for magic.” She glanced at him, eyes sparkling moonlight gray.

“Magic and mayhem,” he said. “I could almost believe that if I thought fairies ever existed.” He took up the reins. “Hold tight. And try to resist your desire to escape. It would be an unpleasant fall from up here. It is not far back to the inn.”

He turned the horse toward the Perth road. After a few moments, Kate leaned back against him, and he wrapped an arm about her waist.

Soon, he realized from the weight of her head on his shoulder that she was resting, even asleep. He sensed the unspoken trust in it, despite the girl’s desire to escape. He halted the horse and sat for a moment, resting his mind and spirit in his own way as he watched dawn turn from cool pink to brilliant fire over the mountain ridge.

Sometimes, he deliberately paused to let gratitude wash through him—for the sun rising once again, for the breath in his body, for another chance at life. He had learned from Edward and Amy, sadly, that what one loved most could vanish far too fast. And from the three little girls Edward and Amy had left behind, he had learned how precious love and life could be. Yet he had built a safeguard around his heart to protect him. It was best, so he had told himself.

Yet lately, he sensed that shell beginning to crack. Generally, he indulged only in the most neutral of expression, calm and reserve and coolness, responses he could control. Yet ever since this fey and lovely girl had walked into his life, he had felt stronger emotion. If she remained with him, changing whatever felt familiar and safe around him, the gates that shielded him might crack altogether. Like others, he had gone a bit the fool for Katie Hell. He should never have allowed it, yet there it was.

He pressed his cheek against her hair, kissed her head, allowed himself that. He sat watching the new day birth out of the old, then drew a breath of crisp air and sighed.

Kate stirred, looked about sleepily. “Oh, how lovely,” she said, looking at the sky.

“Aye, so.” He was looking at her. Then he urged the horse along the road.