Highlander Unchained Read online

  He led her through the trees to the small loch. It was exactly as he remembered it. Surrounded by jagged rocks and filled by a burn that led from the mountains, the circular pool was no bigger than a hundred feet in diameter. There was something magical about the place. Without a doubt it was picturesque, with its clear blue green waters, black jagged rocks, and lush emerald green backdrop; but there was more to it than that.

  He heard Flora draw in her breath. She turned to him. “It’s beautiful. What is it called?”

  “The Faerie Pool.”

  He half expected her to laugh at the superstitions of the Highlanders who’d given the loch its name, but instead she nodded in agreement. “It suits. I feel like I’m in another world.”

  Her response pleased him in a way he couldn’t have imagined. The acknowledgment of the beauty of his land seemed of strange importance. It was as if she were finally relinquishing her old prejudices about the Highlands. She could be happy here. He told himself he would do whatever it took to make her so.

  After helping her down, he tended to the horses, giving her time to accustom herself to the place. When he was finished, he removed a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a flagon of claret from his pack, spread out his plaid on the ground, and invited her to sit. She eyed him nervously but did as he instructed. They ate in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of nature blooming all around them. The song of the skylark, the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the gentle trickle of the burn over the rocks as it drained into the loch. He lay on his side, propped up on his elbow, watching her. Entranced by the way her hair curled around her temple in the heat, the way the sun warmed her pale complexion, the dainty way she ate, and the way she held the flagon to her lips for just a moment too long, betraying her increasing nervousness.

  It was time.

  He dragged himself to his feet and held out his hand. “Ready?”

  She looked up at him, the green flecks in her sea blue eyes even more prominent in the stark sunlight. “I haven’t finished—”

  He gave her an encouraging smile. “It won’t get any easier by delay. Come. There is nothing to be scared of.” He looked around meaningfully. “What could go wrong on a day like this?”

  A number of unpleasant things came to mind. But rather than voice them, Flora took a deep breath and slid her icy hand into his, drawing immediate strength from the warm, callused palm.

  She trusted him. The truth was undeniable. Enough to brave the water and face her darkest fears.

  He helped her to her feet and indicated a large boulder near the mouth of the burn. “You can change over there.”

  She did as he instructed, making sure to take her time. Her fingers were stiff and shaky as she removed the simple stays that tied in front and the wool gown, both of which she’d borrowed from Mary, grateful for the way it untied at the sides to lift over her head. She couldn’t have done it by herself otherwise, and she didn’t think she could take the feel of his fingers on her right now. She was ready to jump out of her skin. And it wasn’t just the prospect of getting in the water that was putting her on edge.

  It was Lachlan.

  Something new and poignant had sprung up between them. An ease, a familiarity…an intimacy that had filled her with a deep sense of contentment. By giving her freedom, he’d changed everything. Turning from jailer to suitor in the bat of an eye. Opening up a world of possibilities.

  He cleared his throat impatiently. Realizing he was going to come looking for her if she delayed any longer, she stepped out from behind her impromptu dressing chamber.

  His brow lifted when he saw her.

  She glanced down at the trews and linen shirt that she’d worn under her gown, relieved to see that she was decent. Mostly. “Murdoch borrowed it from your squire,” she explained.

  His gaze traveled down the length of her, lingering at her breasts stretching against the tight linen, her hips in the wool trews, to her naked calves and the tips of her bare toes. She saw the heat in his gaze for an instant, before he doused it with a chuckle. “Those clothes don’t look quite the same on you.”

  A flush rose to her cheeks at the obvious admiration in his voice.

  Admiration that she returned wholeheartedly. He’d removed his shirt and boots and wore only his trews, which hung low on his hips, emphasizing the hard lines of his impressively muscled stomach. A warm, sultry feeling came over her just looking at him. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the sight of his naked chest. The vast array of finely sculpted muscle. The strength and overwhelming masculinity. The sheer beauty of his form.

  Realizing that she’d been staring, she shifted her gaze to the loch. “It looks cold,” she said, rubbing her arms. “Perhaps we should wait a little while. Until it warms up a bit.”

  “It’s one of the hottest days of the year, the water will be as tepid as a bath,” he said patiently. “It will be fine.” He offered her his hand. “Come now, lass. No more delays.”

  His voice was adamant but surprisingly gentle. She could try, but she knew in the end he would not be gainsaid. She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the water’s edge. Her feet felt weighed down with lead, each step on the rocky dirt path a battle against the overwhelming urge to turn and run. Sensing her building trepidation, he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

  Too soon, they reached the soft muddy bank. Not letting go of her hand, he took a few steps into the water and turned around to face her. “Breathe, lass,” he said softly. “One step at a time.”

  She shook her head, the breath stuck in her throat. She couldn’t. Fear had taken hold. It was just as she’d described before. The panic had wrapped itself around her like a vise. “I d-d-on’t think I can do this,” she stuttered, looking at him wildly.

  “The Holyrood hellion admitting defeat? Is this the same girl who once scaled parapets?” he teased. “What would your friends at court say?”

  She scowled at his attempt to prick her pride. “I know very well what you are doing. It won’t work.”

  He shrugged none too innocently. The look on his face was so out of character, she nearly laughed. Nearly. Until she looked down at the water looming only inches from her feet.

  “Don’t look at the water. Look at me.”

  She did as he directed, gazing deep into the steady strength of his piercing blue eyes. God, he was incredible. So handsome that he made her insides flip.

  The distraction worked. Her pulse slowed, and the tightness constricting her chest released a little. Clasping both her hands, he coaxed her gently into the loch.

  At the first touch of the cool water on her toes, she gasped, pulling back instinctively.

  He murmured soothing words in lilting Erse, the confidence in his gaze and voice giving her much needed courage.

  She shivered as they waded waist deep into the water. Her skin prickled, the tiny hairs on her arms standing straight up. Chilled not from the water, which was pleasantly cool, but from the fear surging through her veins.

  He sensed her distress and brought her closer against his chest, wrapping her firmly in his arms and allowing the heat of his body to take the chill from her skin.

  “You are doing beautifully, my sweet.”

  It didn’t feel like it; she felt like a quivering mess. But she had made it this far.

  “I’m just going to lower you a bit more into the water. Are you ready?”

  “Isn’t this deep enough?” Her voice quivered noticeably.

  “We won’t go any deeper, but you can’t learn to swim standing like this. My arms will be around you the entire time, all right?”

  She nodded, and he slowly lowered them into the water, cradling her against him, until he was on his knees and the water lapped around her shoulders. He’d positioned her so that he held her by her waist and chest and her feet floated out to the side. She fought the nausea as the memories took hold, of the suffocating darkness, of the water filling her nose and mouth.

  She couldn’