The Highlander's Touch Page 102



“Where is she?” Circenn said through gritted teeth.

Adam cast him a mocking glance. “I knew better than to send her home. Had I returned her to the future, you would have patiently sat on your disciplined warrior’s ass and waited seven hundred years to see her again. So passive, so damned human. And then I wouldn’t have gotten what I wanted.”

“Where is she?” Circenn roared, swinging the sword.

Adam grinned.

* * *

Lisa kicked at the sand in disbelief.

She was on a tropical island.

“Un-bee-leevable,” she muttered.

But it wasn’t really, she amended. It was perfectly in keeping with the sorry state of her existence. Somewhere, God was convulsing with laughter, each time she zoomed around another blind curve along the mad course he’d mapped out for her life.

She gazed out over the ocean, breathing deeply. Despite her irritation, she adored the beach, had never gotten to spend much time at it, and couldn’t help but greedily inhale the salt air.

Waves swept the sand gently. The sea was so beautiful that it was difficult to regard it for any protracted length of time. The water was unusual—a breathtaking, exotic aqua one glimpsed only inside the pages of misleading, photo-shop-enhanced travel brochures. It lapped at the perfect white beach with foamy tendrils.

Sparkling white froth, glittering white sand, endless expanse of aqua crystalline water.

She narrowed her eyes.

It was too perfect. Something was askew here. Even the air felt strange. It smelled … She sniffed cautiously.

Like Circenn.

How could an island smell like Circenn?

She felt a pain deep inside at the thought of him. First she’d had her mother, but no life. Then she’d had Circenn, but no mother. Now she had neither, and missed them both with the whole of her heart.

“What did I do to deserve this?” she demanded of the cloudless sky.

“As if there is anyone up there who cares,” she heard someone say dryly. “Why do they always look up when they wax rhetoric? Better the creature should tithe to us.”

She pivoted on the sand. Two utterly beautiful men stood on the beach, dressed in simple white robes. One was as dark as the other was fair, and both were regarding her with disdain.

The blond Adonis gestured to his companion. “How strange, for a moment I almost thought it heard me. It appears to be looking at us.”

“Not possible. It can neither see nor hear us unless we permit it.”

“I hate to burst your smug bubble, but I do see you and I am mortal. Are you more of those pernicious fairy-things?” she asked irritably. The hell with them. They were not going to manipulate her. Besides, how much worse could her life get?

“Fairy-things?” The blond one’s eyes widened. “It called us a fairy-thing,” he informed his companion. “It sees us. Do you think it may be one of those meddling mortals who see both worlds—the ones our Queen and King kidnap at birth?”

The dark one arched a brow. “Then where has it been since then? For it appears fully grown to me.”

“I am not an ‘it’ and I am fully grown and I was not kidnapped at birth and I would appreciate it if you did not speak of me as if I didn’t exist.”

“Then how did you come to be here?”

“Where is here?” Lisa asked swiftly. She was going to assume control of events from moment one in this strange place.

“Morar. It is where the Tuatha de Danaan repaired after the Compact,” the Adonis said.

“Take me to your Queen,” Lisa commanded imperiously.

They exchanged glances, then simply vanished.

Lisa’s shoulders slumped. So much for imperial demeanor. She’d thought she’d sounded pretty regal.

She blew out a breath and started walking down the beach, determined to greet with aplomb whatever new phenomenon fate chose to spew from the ocean’s teeth. A whale-sized piranha biking down the beach wouldn’t have surprised her right now.

* * *

“Morar,” Circenn repeated, his jaw tightening. “And why did you send her to the isle of your people?”

“To keep her out of time for a bit, while I awaited your return. To buy you time to make up your mind.”

“Make up my mind about what?” Circenn asked icily.

“About what you wish to do with her.”

“I doona need time to decide that: I want to marry her, I want her here, and I want her immortal. But I doona understand your motives. I thought you wanted her dead, Adam. Did you not force an oath from me—”

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