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THOSE WERE THE words he’d longed to hear, the words he’d feared would never pass Greer Forbes’s lips.

“I’m relieved to hear that, lass,” he murmured huskily, “for, indeed, I’ve not ridden all this way to let Sutherland have ye.

” He paused then, as worry clenched his gut.

It was a life-altering choice, one that would change everything for them.

He had to be sure she was in earnest and that she understood the repercussions.

“But if ye choose me and break yer betrothal, ye shall take a road there is no turning back from. Ye will never see yer kin again.”

He’d expected Greer’s steel-grey eyes to gutter at this, yet her gaze remained steady. “I understand,” she whispered. “But I would give up everything for ye.”

“We won’t be returning to Dun Ugadale either,” he pointed out. “We can’t … for it would bring strife upon Iver. It would cause conflict between our families if he was forced to give us shelter … or even between our clans .”

Worry did flutter across Greer’s face then, disappointment shadowing her gaze. “But ye love yer brothers,” she whispered. “To never see them again will hurt ye deeply.”

“Aye, it will,” he admitted, his voice roughening. “And that’s why I won’t drag them into this.” He sucked in a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “It’s for the best, lass.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Her fingers curled into fists upon his chest, a nerve flickering in her cheek.

“No,” he replied softly. “But I don’t want to give up this chance either.”

She nodded, her jaw firming. “Life is so fleeting … and what we have found so precious.”

“It is,” he agreed, cupping her cheek with his palm. “But would ye set yer life on fire for me, lass? Would ye give up yer comfort, yer finery … and yer reputation … all for a bastard blacksmith?”

Her gaze seared his, a fierce expression settling upon her pretty features. “I’d burn in the fiery pits of hell for ye … and I’d make a pact with the devil himself if it meant we could be together.”

Brodie’s pulse started to gallop then, his skin prickling as her words sank in.

Aye, she wanted him as much as he did her.

“We shall be wed then,” he said, anticipation quickening within him. “Where is the nearest kirk?”

“Drumminor … but that’s out of the question,” she replied. Her voice was tight, breathless, as if she too couldn’t believe they were actually going to do this. “After that, the closest priest is in Glenkindie.”

Brodie nodded. He knew where the village was, for he’d passed it on the way to Drumminor. Nestled in the foothills of the mountains, it was nearly a day’s ride from here. If they moved quickly, they could reach it and be husband and wife before the sun set.

“And after that?” she asked, excitement sparking in her eyes.

“I was thinking it’s best to ride south. No one knows us in the lowlands. We can make a life together there.”

Greer nodded. “And we will.”

“Are ye ready then? We can’t linger here.”

“Aye,” she breathed, her eyes gleaming. “Let’s go.”

Greer left Rhynie with a cauldron of emotions boiling within her.

Excitement, relief, dread, and regret—for there would be no goodbyes.

Of course, Greer would have liked to farewell her maid and the captain, to apologize for what she was about to do, but that was impossible.

She was also sorry she wouldn’t be able to attend their wedding—to wish them all the best for their future together.

Inghinn and Errol would eventually wonder why she hadn’t appeared at the inn and go looking for her. However, by the time they realized she’d disappeared, she and Brodie would be many furlongs southwest, heading toward the Cairngorms.

Greer’s breathing grew shallow then, guilt spearing her. She didn’t want to get her maid or the captain into trouble with her father—for the clan-chief would be incensed when he discovered his daughter missing—yet, if she didn’t act now, she would never get another chance.

Heart pounding, Greer followed Brodie out of the alley into a backstreet. His horse, Brèagha, was hitched to a railing there, waiting for them.

The mare whickered a greeting upon spying her. Whispering an endearment to the horse, Greer gave Brèagha’s neck an affectionate stroke while Brodie unhitched the courser. He then boosted Greer up into the saddle, mounted behind her, and gathered the reins.

A short while later, they were cantering out of Rhynie, kicking up dust behind them.

They spoke little as they rode southwest. It was enough to sit together, their bodies flush. Brodie wrapped one arm protectively around Greer’s torso, grasping the reins with the other, while she held onto him.

It was a fine late-summer’s day. Autumn was edging toward them now, and although the leaves hadn’t started to turn, there was a softness to the light that indicated the first signs of the changing season weren’t far away.

They traveled over rolling hills where black-faced sheep grazed—Brèagha’s long legs eating up the furlongs. They moved fast across verdant farmland, passing cottars gathering in the last of the summer grain. To Greer, the world had never looked so beautiful. Her senses had never been so sharp.

On this decisive day, every detail mattered.

They reached Glenkindie close to sunset, clip-clopping through the single street that led along the banks of the River Don.

However, when they arrived at the kirk on the southwestern outskirts of the village, they found it shut up and the priest absent.

Retracing their steps, they rode back into the hamlet and enquired at the Donside Tavern , discovering that the priest was away visiting kin and was due to return the following morning.

“What do ye wish to do?” Brodie asked Greer as they emerged from the tavern. “It’ll be dark soon … and we won’t likely find ourselves another priest until we emerge from the Cairngorms.”

Greer considered his words. He was right. She hadn’t seen any kirks on her journeys through those mountains. A sense of urgency quickened within her; instinctively, she knew they couldn’t wait to be wed.

Her father would have returned from his hunting by now and would have learned that his daughter was missing. He’d begin searching for her at first light, no doubt.

Greer didn’t want him to ever catch up with her, yet if he did, he’d find his daughter and Brodie Mackay married.

“I think we should stay the night,” she replied. “The tavern owner seemed sure the priest would return early.”

“He did,” Brodie agreed, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’m just wary of lingering anywhere, that’s all.”

“As am I … we shall wait only until mid-morning at the latest, if ye wish … and if the priest doesn’t appear, we shall depart.” She stepped close, taking hold of his hands. “I want to be yer wife.”

His mouth curved into a tender smile. “Aye, and I want to be yer husband.” He sighed then. “Very well … shall we see if this tavern has any chambers available?”

Posing as a wedded couple, they rented a small attic room for the night.

Greer’s breathing grew fast and shallow as they made their way up the rickety wooden stairs to the top floor. Part of her couldn’t believe this was happening. She and Brodie were on the run together, escaping to a new future. If this was a dream, she never wanted to awaken from it.

Brodie didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to them, so he ordered two suppers of venison stew and dumplings to be brought upstairs. In the meantime, the tavern owner’s wife and daughter carried up a basin of hot water, soap, and drying cloths for them.

“The stew is still an hour away,” the wife informed them with an apologetic smile.

“That’s fine,” Greer replied. “It’ll give us time to wash up.”

The woman viewed Greer with curiosity. “Ye have traveled far then?”

“Aye … from Aberdeen,” Brodie replied smoothly.

The tavern owner’s wife nodded, although her eyes were now bright with interest. “Ye don’t have any bags with ye,” she observed, casting a glance around the room. “Why is that?”

“We like to travel light.”

Mouth pursing in thinly veiled irritation at Brodie’s cryptic answer and his expressionless delivery, the woman looked Greer’s way once more, no doubt taking in the fine cloth of her surcote and wondering who she was.

However, Greer remained silent. By nature, she was open, yet this wasn’t the time to tell others of their business.

Moments later, the woman and her daughter left the chamber, and Greer and Brodie were alone once more.

Folding his arms across his chest, Brodie favored Greer with a wink before a wry smile stretched his lips. “She was a curious one.”

Greer gave a soft snort. “Aye, ye did well to give her nothing. Perhaps I should be as wary of folk as ye.”

Brodie’s smile widened, and heat flushed over Greer.

Being alone with him in here, within the privacy of these four walls, suddenly seemed more intimate than earlier.

They’d ridden for hours, their bodies pressed together, yet now she was aware of him more keenly, and aware of the connection that shivered between them.

“I like the way ye are, lass,” he murmured, drawing close. “Don’t ever get as cynical as me.” He then reached up and stroked her cheek. He smelled of horse, leather—and a male, spicy scent that was uniquely his.

Greer’s breathing grew shallow. “Very well,” she murmured. “But a little caution now and then would likely serve me.”

“Aye … perhaps,” he replied, the pad of his thumb grazing her lower lip. “But don’t ever lose yer spark.”

“My spark?” It was getting difficult to concentrate, as his nearness and touch were scattering her wits like autumn leaves in a brisk wind.

“Aye … that quality that makes ye unique. Ye walk through life with a lightness I envy, for I hold onto resentments and dwell in the mire of the past.”

Greer reached out, placing a hand on his chest. She could feel the heat of his body, even through the leather vest and lèine he wore. “And I could do with a little of yer edge,” she said huskily. “We are well matched, are we not?”

“We are … and now it’s just ye and me … the two of us against the world.”

It was, yet she didn’t care. All that mattered was him.

He moved in closer then, his head dipping to hers for a long, sensual kiss.

The gentle yet thorough way his lips and tongue explored her mouth made Greer’s toes curl in her boots, made heat flush over her as if they stood next to a roaring fire. Of course, this was inevitable. The connection between them was too strong to be denied.

She stepped into him, flattening her body against his as the kiss deepened.

In response, Brodie cupped the back of her head, his mouth devouring hers now.

His dominance, his passion, undid Greer, and she gave herself up to him before a soft moan escaped her.

Brodie’s hazel eyes were glazed with passion when he lifted his mouth from hers. His chest rose and fell sharply now. “I want ye, Greer,” he said roughly.

Greer sighed, leaning into him. “Then take me,” she whispered back.