Enchanted Lover

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Authors: Connie C. Scharon

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ENCHANTED LOVER

 

 

By

Connie C. Scharon

 

 

 

 

Enchanted Lover

 

By Connie C. Scharon

 

Copyright 2013 Connie Coles Scharon

 

Smashwords Edition

 

 

All Rights Reserved

 

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Epilogue

More Books By This Author

 

This book is for Michael, who always
encouraged me to follow my muse.

And for Seth, who brought me back to
writing and helped me improve my work.

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Cairngorm Castle, 1312

 

Tonight his fate was sealed. Keeping to the shadows,
he made his way down the narrow hallway. A distant echo of footsteps at the end
of the passage made him flatten into a dark alcove. As the noise grew louder,
he watched a lumbering guard pass by and climb the stone steps twenty feet
away. Pressing back against the wall, he waited for the footfalls to fade and
continued along the corridor.

Inside her chamber, Asilinn Innes wiped away her
tears with the back of her hand while she struggled with the fastenings holding
her dress in place. Her father had done it again, humiliated her in front of
all his men. She was expected to tell them when the Dragon of Dunbocan would
again lead his men into Innes lands. But her father knew her gift didn't work
like that. The small glimpses of the future she was granted through her special
dreams and visions held no specific place in time. They were open to
misinterpretation more often than not. Besides, she had not had a true vision
in months.

With a heavy sigh, Asilinn shrugged off her kirtle
and slipped on a threadbare sleeping shift. Perhaps it was her fault the gift
had faded. Had not the priest warned her to dedicate her life to the church and
pray daily that it was God's power that worked within her?

As she lifted her shift to remove her hose, a noise
in the hallway drew Asilinn from her task. Someone rapped lightly on her door.
Was her father coming to chastise her for her insolence?

"Who goes there?" Asilinn pulled a heavy
robe around her shoulders and moved to stand by the door.

A rich, masculine voice answered. "Lady Asilinn,
your father sent me to fetch you."

Asilinn let out her breath slowly. Maybe she was
being summoned to give apology to all the brave souls she insulted with her
angry outburst.

"Please tell my father I am about to retire. I
cannot come."

"'Tis a matter of some urgency, Milady."
The voice was not familiar to Asilinn. Dismissing her hesitation, she slid back
the bar from the door.

Jared stood waiting for his quarry to fall into the
trap. The heavy, oak door flew open and he found himself face to face with one
of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. Her glorious, golden hair
fell to her waist and her skin was like alabaster. She stared up at him now,
her crystal blue eyes inquisitive.

"You are not one of my father's men," she
said. It was too late. Jared stepped inside the chamber and pulled the door
shut trapping her. She started to dart away. He caught hold of her robe and
jerked her back to him as it fell open.

Asilinn tried to scream, but her head was buried in
the intruder's massive chest. Her cry came out as a strangled gasp. He took
hold of her hair and pulled her out of the heavy folds of his cloak. Her captor
tilted her head back until she was forced to look him square in the face.

For one terrifying moment she stared into the depths
of his eyes—eyes glittering with dark intent like a hypnotic dragon about to
devour her. She was frozen with fear. Her mouth opened to cry for help—she
couldn't conjure up a single sound.

He was a huge, Scottish warrior at least a head
taller than most of her father's men. Thick, dark hair fell to his shoulders
framing the strong lines of his face. A dark gray cloak obscured all but his
looming angular shape. Suddenly he relaxed his grip and reached beneath his
cloak.

Asilinn was freed from his powerful trance. A scream
rose in her throat. He jammed a wad of cloth between her lips and tied it
behind her head. Though she clawed and struck at him, he secured her hands with
ease. Amidst her flailing kicks and jabs, her assailant picked her up and
carried her across the chamber. Throwing her down on the bed, he bound her feet
together.

"For one so small, you fight bravely, lass"
he said. "The Innes blood no doubt." There was a flash of white teeth
as a grin slid across his face. "I suppose I did not introduce
myself." With one hand, he pulled back the cloak and watched her eyes turn
hard. "You ken my colors."

The blood red and blue-green of the MacLean colors
waved before her eyes. Setting her jaw she let her contempt shine in her eyes.

Her captor chuckled at her expression. He pulled her
to her feet and threw a length of her family's own plaid over her head. Asilinn
felt herself being lifted and slung over his shoulder. She groaned through her
gag when his hard shoulder banged into her ribs. He patted her backside with
his hand.

“Sorry,” he apologized with more than a hint of
amusement. With a convulsive twist, she kneed him in the chest. He delivered a
stinging slap to her buttocks. "Be still or I may drop you. We’re going
out a window and I have no desire to see you break your lovely neck.”

Asilinn stopped squirming. It was useless anyhow; she
was too tightly bound to break free. They left her room and headed down a
flight of steps. She couldn't tell how far down they went. He branched off into
one of the chambers and she realized they were still far up in the castle.

Cairngorm Castle backed up to a sheer rock face that
fell several hundred feet to the valley below. This fool was planning to climb
down the cliff with her over his shoulder. Asilinn felt the chill night air as
he eased them out the narrow window space. Her heart lurched in her chest.

The MacLean clansman made his way skillfully down the
precipice with Asilinn slung over his broad shoulder. Nearing the bottom, he
jumped the last few feet. When they landed, the impact sent jagged pain through
her ribs. She let out a muffled moan and tossed wildly.

Dumping her unceremoniously to the ground, her captor
whisked away her covering. As she fought to catch her breath, Asilinn glared at
him. He grabbed her robe and pulled her up to face him in the pale moonlight.

"Your eyes shoot daggers at me, sweetling,” he
said. “I like a woman with spirit.”

Asilinn didn’t care what he liked and would sincerely
have liked to tell him so, but her gag prevented that luxury.

The MacLean wrapped her plaid around her shoulders.
He lifted her onto the back of a huge, black stallion, swung up, and cradled
her bound body in his arms. She tried to pull away from him, but his muscular
arm hammered her against his chest.

Her nostrils were invaded by the scent of soft
leather and fine wool mingled with a scrubbed freshness uncommon among fighting
men. With one silent command, he spurred the destrier to action. Horse and
rider moved as one in a fluid grace rare even among good horsemen. They flew
across the moors, barreling through the blackness at a superhuman pace.

When they were some distance from the castle, he
guided his horse into a dense thicket. The MacLean dismounted and dragged her
to the ground. A thousand images rushed through her mind each more terrifying
than the next. Would she now suffer her mother's fate? Was she to repeat the
horrible reality of her first childhood vision? Her heart leapt in a frantic
rhythm. He pulled her against his chest watching her with those hypnotic eyes.

Leaning down, he let his lips graze her ear. Asilinn
choked back a sob. "Beyond the tree I have a horse for you," he
whispered.

Peering through the brush, she saw another horse
tethered nearby. Asilinn let her breath out in a rush. The corners of his eyes
crinkled when he laughed. He was enjoying her fear. He wouldn’t find it so
amusing when her father caught up with him.

He cut the bonds holding her ankles together.
"If you cannot ride astride you will not keep your seat," he said,
lifting her onto the fresh mount. Giving him an insolent glare, Asilinn slung
her leg over the waiting horse. She was glad to be free of him. He tied her
bound hands to the saddle.

When Asilinn shivered, he took out a heavy, leather
cape and wrapped it around her. "Is this more to your liking?"

She snorted. He grinned and headed out again with her
steed in tow.

They rode for hours occasionally slowing the pace to
negotiate difficult trails. From hearing her father talk, Asilinn knew it was
three days ride to the MacLean lands. What did her father's enemy hope to gain
by kidnapping her? Was she to be held for ransom? At least then, she would
probably be kept intact. With grim determination, she pushed thoughts of all
other possibilities away.

As the pale fingers of dawn crept across the sky,
Asilinn noted her captor had slowed his pace. They kept well off the main path.
Tall pines and Mountain Ash rimmed one side of the trail and the last vestige
of heather colored the mountains with hues of violet. The sun had risen to a
gray dawn and Asilinn's breath made a cloud of vapor when she exhaled in the
crisp air.

The man who held her captive barely glanced at her.
All his attention focused on the way ahead. Asilinn found herself studying his
strong, chiseled features. Thick, dark brows arched above the green fire of his
eyes. A thin scar ran along his cheek giving his face an ominous impression in
the early light.

Drawn by her perusal, he met her gaze. "Need a
rest?" he asked.

Asilinn nodded, not so much in need as in hope her
father and his men would catch up to them. For awhile she thought the warrior
had missed her nod because he continued to move ahead.

Eventually he took a side trail that led to a river.
Urging his steed into the water, he jerked the lead. Her horse was skittish and
jumped nervously threatening to dump her into the icy water. Asilinn clung to
the horse's mane with her tightly bound hands. Her captor came closer in an
effort to calm the recalcitrant animal. The horse lunged forward, tore itself
from his grip, and jumped up the riverbank.

Grasping her opportunity, Asilinn kneed her mount in
the ribs. It bolted across the rocky riverbank and stumbled on the slippery
rocks. The horse pulled up with a plaintive whinny.

The MacLean clansman came after them. He quickly
reclaimed control and forced the horse into the water. Asilinn had his full
attention now and she rather wished she did not.

"Zounds! Daft lass, you are no good to me
dead." He frowned, then turned and forced her horse to limp along behind
his.

They rode upstream until the water seemed to
disappear into the side of a mountain. Looking closer Asilinn realized it ran
from a cave. The entrance was narrow. It widened considerably about forty feet
down the passage. The source of the stream vanished under the ground a few feet
inside the main chamber and there was a hole in the ceiling further down which
allowed light to filter into the cavern.

Her captor dismounted and secured his horse. He
lifted her to the ground and paused to examine her horse's right front leg.

"I am surely cursed," he said, prying loose
a stone from the horse's hoof. "You wilna be free of me so easily. Now we
must ride together."

Straightening, he pulled the leather cape off her
shoulders. His burning gaze inspected her person lingering overlong on her
breasts, waist, hips, and then tracing back to her eyes.

“Damn them for not warning me,” he muttered.

Asilinn clutched her robe around her and glowered at
him.

He chuckled at her enraged expression then forced her
to the ground and bound her feet.

"Dinna try anything foolish," he warned.
With that, he unsaddled her horse and led it out of the cave.

Asilinn was overcome with swelling anger. Not only
was she bound and gagged, but now the clod had trussed her so tight she could
barely breathe let alone move. She squirmed helplessly for a time finally
giving in to an exhausted slumber.

Lost in a dreamless sleep Asilinn felt hot breath
across her face. She woke with a start. When her eyes fluttered open, she stared
into the black nostril of the huge horse not the ominous fire of the warrior's
eyes. The beast had broken free of its rope and stood nuzzling her cheek.
Asilinn drew back in fear. The destrier could easily trample her appeasing his
curiosity.

She didn't know how long she had dozed and her captor
was nowhere in sight. Trying in vain to escape the attentive stallion, she
rolled across the floor of the cave. The horse followed.

"Ailleagian, back," a voice called out from
the entrance. The horse raised his head abruptly. The stallion backed up and
walked over to nuzzle his master. The warrior stroked the beast affectionately
and then pushed him aside coming to stand over Asilinn.

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