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“Unwanted? I couldna have possibly wanted anyone or anything more than I want ye.”
Kate hugged herself, tears glistened in her eyes. Ian covered the space between them in three steps and grasped her upper arms.
“Stop this at once,” he said. “I want ye. I love ye. Ye’re a treasure. Ye’re like the source of life to me.”
She blinked, staring at him with a mixture of hope and disbelief.
“Then why are you chasing me away?” she whispered.
“Because ye dinna belong here, lass. Ye belong to the world with great healers, the world where women own inns, the world where majestic iron creatures fly in the air and light comes to life with the movement of a finger.”
His lungs squeezed. He didn’t say the main reason, and it weighed deep inside of him like a sack of rocks.
“I need to go back for my sister and my nephew. Not for the conveniences. I couldn’t care less about conveniences. If I was happy with someone, I’d give up all that…”
Her voice trailed off. She cupped his jaw, and he leaned into her soft, warm hand.
“You know that, Ian, don’t you?” she asked.
He swallowed a painful knot in his throat. “Aye, I ken ye would. But I wouldna have allowed ye to stay anyway. Nae for me.”
“Of course for you. Who else would I stay for then?”
He shook his head. “Nae for me, lass. ’Tis right that ye’re leaving. There is nae future for us—nae in this century, nae in the future. Ye’re too good for a man like me, after what I’ve done.”
Her face went blank. “I’m too good? Ian, we’ve talked about it, it’s not…”
“Aye, ’tis. A man like me, a cold-blooded killer, I must be punished, Katie. God must punish me. He canna allow me to take so many lives, then find the biggest treasure in this life and just be happy. ’Tisna how life works. ’Tisna how I am going to accept it. And I wouldna wish ye to spend the rest of yer life with someone like me.”
Kate shook her head. “Ian, stop blaming yourself for this. You can’t keep punishing yourself your whole life.”
“I will never be whole, lass. Ye’re better off without me. I canna make ye happy. I dinna deserve ye, and I dinna want to make ye miserable.”
“You don’t need to be whole to be happy with someone, Ian,” she whispered. “You just need to find someone who helps to fill your broken parts.”
Ian’s head spun from the healing promise in her words. He leaned down to kiss her, but a sharp pain in his shoulder threw him back.
He looked up.
It took him less than a moment to evaluate the situation. An arrow pointed at him from behind a tree. There must have been another one that grazed him. Swords glistened here and there among the trees—five or six.
His muscles stiffened momentarily, fire rushing through his veins. Then his instincts took over, kicking fear away. He grabbed Kate and launched for a tree, shielding her with his body.
An arrow hit the place where they’d just stood. Ian cursed and looked carefully from behind the trunk.
“Ian, you’re hurt,” Kate said.
The English. Five swordsmen and an archer. Their hair was singed, the edges of their tunics black and sooty. They must have come from the farm. Had they tracked Ian and Kate?
“’Tis a scratch.”
“It’s not nothing—” Kate said, but Ian interrupted her, turning to her and looking deeply into her eyes.
“Lass, listen. Ye follow every word I say if ye want us both to survive this. There are six of them. All warriors. Where’s yer dagger?”
She paled even more and reached for the dagger, which was in the sheath on her belt.
“Good. Take it out and remember what I taught ye. They have no armor, they’re survivors from the farm.”
