Page 57

The scent of the sea, the whisper of the waves against the shore were lovely and lulling.

But not as lovely as the man she was walking next to.

Her skin prickled pleasantly in his hand. And her chest… Her chest felt so tight it might burst. Or she might float over the sea and drift off into space.

She knew what it was.

She was falling for him. Hard. Falling for the man who held her prisoner. Falling for the man from the wrong time.

All those feelings were good. And right. The man was, too.

But the epoch was completely wrong.

They stopped at a high point overlooking the sea, and Aulay stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He was so warm. Warm and hard and masculine. But her thoughts kept going back to what she’d left behind. Her friends. Her family. God, did her parents and her sisters think she was dead? They must all be so worried. And what about Amanda and the clinic? Her poor friend would have needed to take on all of Jenny’s patients and seek temporary help.

And her goddamn appointment. One week left. One week, and that would be it. Only, she didn’t feel such a driving need to go home anymore. It was as though the hole in her chest that had been left by the absence of a baby was healing.

Filling up.

Why was that? Was it just that her feelings for Aulay were distracting her? Was she hiding some truth she didn’t want to see?

“Why do you want a child, Aulay?” she asked.

He kissed the top of her head, his short beard briefly scratching her scalp.

“I havna given that much thought recently,” he replied. “I want someone to care for and to raise and to teach. Besides, I always kent ’tis my duty to my people and God to leave a legacy. Having an heir is my obligation to my clan and the generations to come. And to Scotland in a way.”

“Obligation…” she murmured. “A child is not a debt to be paid, Aulay. It’s a person, a human being. A child should be born out of love.”

“Aye, ye’re right.” He was quiet for a while, then he said, “Something must be wrong with me, Jenny. And I canna even believe I’m saying this out loud, and to a woman I very much care for… But I wonder if there’s a curse upon me which didna allow poor Leitis to birth a bairn…and to survive. When I lie in bed and try to fall asleep, sometimes my mind wonders all these terrible things… Like, what if in my selfish pursuit of heirs, because of this obligation that I felt, ’twas I that had killed Leitis?”

It was as though his pain had slashed across her own chest. She turned to him and took his dear face in both of her hands. His eyes were teary, his thick brows drawn in a pained expression.

“No,” she said firmly. “It wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s. How many women die in childbirth because of how underdeveloped medicine is in these times?”

He swallowed and kissed her hand. “Ye may be the best physician in the world during this time. My clan is very fortunate to have ye.”

She kissed him gently. “Thank you for saying that. You have no idea what it means.”

The sky was getting darker now. The sun had just set, and the golden-orange light made him look even more godlike.

“Tell me about her. About Leitis. The woman whose dresses I wear. The woman you loved…”

The woman he’d loved. Yes, he’d loved her. Or he wouldn’t have kept her dresses, wouldn’t still be so grief-stricken about her. Good God, Jenny was jealous of a dead woman. It was petty of her. She shouldn’t feel that way.

“Leitis was an amazing woman. She was bonnie. She was kind and intelligent. She was confident and kent her own worth. Our marriage was arranged by our clans, and she told me right at our wedding that she wouldna let me in her bed until she kent I was a good, worthy man.” He chuckled. “So, I had to win her over at first. And right then, I kent this was the woman for me. I thought that Leitis had been my one true love. Until I met ye.”

Until he met her… Her heart thundered in her chest. She was melting, evaporating. Happiness filled her to the core. But despite this feeling like she was on a cloud made of pink cotton candy, flying around with MacZeus, a godlike Highlander—despite the fact that she was falling hard for him—she belonged to another time. And he belonged here. And she could never give him the heirs that he wanted so much.

“Why didn’t you try to marry a younger woman to have heirs?” she asked.

He chuckled softly, watching the sky. Purple light reflected in his dark eyes, and they were glistening. “I didna think I’d be able to keep living if I was hurt again when another woman died because of me.” He looked at her. “Why didna ye marry after yer husband?”

She looked down at the ground. Her shoes were dark against hard yellowish moss. “I couldn’t imagine being betrayed and hurt again. When my husband told me he wanted a divorce because he was in love with someone else, I…felt like I was cut in two. I know a child would never do that. I saw that in my own family, growing up. My parents love us. My sisters have their own families. They all look happy. I thought I’d be happy, too. I’ve always wanted that perfect image of a happy family—a mother, a father, and a child or two…or three. And he took that away from me. But a child would never do that. So, I thought even though I’d be without a husband, I would still like to have a baby.”

He chuckled. “A child will leave one day. Marry their husband or wife. They will choose someone over ye one day.”

She bit her lip. “I never thought about it that way. You’re wise beyond your years, Aulay.”