Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) (9 page)

She nodded slowly.

“I’d carried you there, McKayla. We’d been running from my brotherhood, from my newborn enemies…. enemies because I killed my mentor instead of you.”

“
Instead
of me?” Eyes wide, she tried to pull away but his grip was unyielding.

Pain apparent, he said, “They’d used dark magic on me. I didnae know it was you until nearly too late. But even then my blade would not have cut.”

Her heart beat so loudly she could barely hear herself speak, “I don’t understand. Why? How? I wasn’t even there yet.”

Colin ground his jaw. “Nay, you weren’t. At least not at first. You see I was tricked. While I thought ‘twas you it was but an illusion.
You
had been an illusion. Which meant they had discovered who you were…what you meant to me. That in itself is dangerous. As soon as I realized such it was imperative to have you with me.” He frowned. “So I purposefully fed into their trap and gave you the Lucid Mask to bring you back in time. It was the only way to keep you safe.”

“How did you know the illusion wasn’t me?” she whispered.

“A lad knows such about his lass.” He appeared sheepish for a moment. “And my magic helped.”

A lad knows such about his lass?
Her pulse skittered through her veins. “But why bring me back? Why not come forward in time and protect me here like you eventually did?”

“Two reasons.” His eyes grew darker. “The first being that they knew
where
I’d killed my mentor. It was a set of circumstances that was going to happen just as it did. They also knew that it was only a matter of time before I’d realize you were an illusion alerting me to their knowledge of you. Hence the trick…I brought you back as they’d planned. Had I traveled to the future from there or whisked you back, I strongly suspect they would have been able to follow. So I laid out a plan by manipulating time-travel and moved you as quickly as I could.”

McKayla shook her head, only a little less confused. “So the mask was designed to bring me to the very spot in which you’d killed your mentor.”

“Aye, and designed to bring you back to the future when it did.”

“What of the second reason for not protecting me here?”

“I am at my strongest when in my true form, and in Scotland. I would not risk having to battle here in New Hampshire. ‘Twould be far more perilous for all.”

“I won’t pretend to understand half of what you just said.” Trying to keep her frayed emotions in check she clenched her hands on her lap. “I get the part about you wanting to protect me there. But how can you be so sure they won’t come
here
?” She wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear her pounding heart.

“I dinnae know with certainty, Kay.”

She ignored that he’d called her by her nickname. “But wasn’t I still technically here dreaming?”

Colin shook his head once. “I’m good at what I do. You didnae dream at all but truly traveled back in time.”

McKayla curled into his protective arms without realizing. Strangely enough, fear seemed just out of reach. Was she in shock? Most likely. The very idea that she’d already stepped foot in thirteenth century Scotland was mind-boggling. Then again, it was only slightly harder to believe than the fact she now sat on a medieval Scotsman’s lap discussing it. If all that wasn’t enough, there was the part about her being on some sort of supernatural brotherhood’s hit list.

That sort of sucked.

A lot.

“Are you well, lass? I’m so verra sorry for all this, for my part in it. If not for me, your life would be far less …” He stopped and seemed to consider his next words carefully. “Bloody complicated right now. You dinnae deserve this.”

McKayla frowned. Maybe not. But she suspected all of this was meant to be. Yes, she’d written a book and landed a great book deal but she had to wonder, would she have done so without the influence of this house and its history? Better yet, would she have written as passionately had she not known Trevor? After all, though he didn’t know it, he’d been the love of her life. None could compare. At least not yet. She was about to respond when Colin ground his jaw and leaned forward slightly in what appeared to be pain.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“The mark,” he said through clenched teeth, hand over his tunic. “Burns on occasion.”

Concerned, she lifted the material. There was a three-quarter circular tattoo on the side of his abdomen. A second before the tattoo had been black, now the circle was an angry, blazing red. Worried for him, she instantly put her hand against the mark, cringing but not pulling away when his skin burned her hand.

Colin closed his eyes, covered her hand with his and groaned in relief. She closed her eyes as well and she sighed as the burning sensation slowly faded from her hand. Nothing was left but the feel of his warm, hard skin beneath hers. A small wave of exhaustion washed over her and she mumbled to herself in contentment.

“McKayla,” he said, alarm in his voice. “Open your eyes.”

Doing so, she was surprised to find his regard uneasy. Curling her fingers against his skin she said, “What, it’s okay now, right?”

“Aye,” he said, bringing her even closer. “The coolness of your hand drove away the pain.”

“You must’ve let me in,” she said then blinked several times as a strange understanding dawned. Leaning back slightly, she pulled up his shirt and eyed the mark. As she ran her finger around the circle she whispered, “His is the circle that never connects. A means to let me in. If ever it closes, we are forever lost.”

His body trembled and McKayla quickly realized it was not because of her words but because of her touch, because of the lazy trail she made with her finger.

“I dinnae ken your words,” he managed to push past suddenly strained lips.

“I spoke them to Leslie yesterday over Skype,” she said breathlessly, still tracing the circle.

“Did ye then?” he said, his brogue turning thicker and thicker, as did other things. Amazing what one little finger was doing to him. Doubly amazing what sitting on a sexually aroused medieval Scotsman’s lap was doing to her.

“Remember, I mentioned something about it. An old Scots Gaelic,” she murmured, unable to keep her lone finger from wandering up his broad chest.

“Hmm,” he murmured in return, one arm drawing her ever closer while his free hand once more buried into her hair.

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to tilt her lips to his, to feel not a kiss from an old flame but the searing new fire of lips that’d never touched hers. Yet neither reaction was tentative. Instead, the moment his lips closed over hers, McKayla swore the room dropped away. The air thinned to nothing. Sound, whatever it might have been before, ceased to exist. A heady rush of desire washed over her. Feelings of lust were so strong she dug her nails into his chest and wrapped her other hand around the back of his neck.

Desperate, their tongues wrapped and twisted, searched and explored. The hungry motion of their lips moved in perfect unison, as though they’d been made specifically with the sole purpose of kissing one another. She reveled in the heavy thud of his heartbeat beneath her hand; by the way his strong heart seemed to throb within the deepening unending kiss. Groaning, she met the thrust of his tongue with hers, met the pure, sexual desperation of his need with more of her own.

The thick evidence of his arousal pressed up eagerly against her bottom. When moisture flooded between her thighs, McKayla kissed him with renewed eagerness. Breathing heavily, she clutched him tighter while rocking her bottom back and forth slowly, purposefully. Even through her sweatpants she could feel the abrasive wool of his plaid. Rock hard muscles rippled beneath as he too moved to assuage his own needs.

While she might have felt some of Trevor in his touches, most were foreign, different, and almost painful in their pleasuring newness. Colin introduced a stinging, sharp awareness of not only what he had to offer but what she did as well. Somehow this man made her feel like a sensual, underused siren with one, long astounding kiss.

“You never did that before,” he growled against the tender skin of her neck as he trailed down using both his lips and teeth creatively.

His cock pulsed against her and she all but reveled in his tightly wound self-constraint. He was so energized, almost powerful in his lust, that she didn’t know whether to be flattered or petrified. Gasping for breath, she didn’t stop him when his touch came between her legs, when his large hand cupped over her center and kneaded. Further aroused by her obvious wetness his eager lips searched out her pebbled nipple through a too-tight sweatshirt.

“So this is your way of respecting her, eh?”

Both froze. Colin pulled away far slower than most men would when confronted with an irritated warlock. Embarrassed, McKayla looked at the doorway and said, “Really, Seth?
Really
?”

Arms crossed over his chest, Seth leaned against the threshold, casual but clearly tense. “Yeah, McKayla,
really
. He was supposed to come up here to tell you he was leaving instead he’s about ready to screw you.”

Adjusting her clothing, McKayla carefully unraveled from Colin’s arms and stood. His hand, however, remained entwined with hers. “He’s told me everything.”

Seth cocked a brow.

“Well, he’s told me a lot,” she said defensively. “As I’m sure you can imagine there’s bound to be more.”

“More than you being on ‘Scotland’s Most Wanted’ list by a bunch of medieval fucked up mercenaries? I hope not.”

So she was the last to know. Though irritated, she supposed it was for the best. Trying to maintain some sort of an upper hand she walked to the window and stared out onto the remnants of a brooding sunset. A summer storm simmered in the distance. “He’s not a mercenary. Mercenaries take money.”

Seth snorted. “Well then, that makes all of this bullshit so much easier to swallow.”

“Enough with the swearing, okay?”

“You sound like Andrea,” he muttered. “Fine. Whatever.”

“We’ve got more to be concerned about,” Colin said. “Where are the others?”

“More to be concerned about? Say it isn’t so.”

“Seth, come on!”

“Things got crazy when I found out I was a warlock. I’m worried your story is going be as bad if not worse, especially with this guy leading the way.”

McKayla crossed her arms over her chest and turned around. Colin lounged on her bed, making it very clear he belonged there. Seth leaned against the threshold, eyes narrowed on the Scotsman. The highlander obviously thought himself above a rebuttal because he only continued to stare at her as though he belonged not only on her bed but covering every inch of her willing body. She tightened her thighs, refusing to give into her immediate response.

“So I see you two are getting along better than ever. As if Leslie and Sheila’s bantering wasn’t enough,” she remarked with a frown.

Tongue-in-cheek, Seth commented, “Trevor, or is it Colin, slept with you for how long, a year or so? Then dumped you to remain long distance friends. Sure, that was sleazy enough but doable. You still cared about the guy. Then it turns out he’d been lying all along. He’s from another time, knows magic and has been messing with you all this time while simultaneously being part of something really sinister that could end up killing you.”

McKayla ran a hand through her hair in frustration and bit back, “You have no room to talk, Seth. Your lie was just as harmful.”

Seth almost defended himself but stopped short, pain crossing his face. “Awe, hell, McKayla, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I know how sorry you are. Enough said.” McKayla opened her closet door and eyed her clothes. She seriously needed some space so she could sort out her thoughts. “Both of you out. I need to change.”

Thankfully, neither gave issue and left. She and Colin locked eyes one more time before he shut the door. How could they not? They’d nearly had what she suspected would have been outrageously awesome sex. Which left her to wonder, had she really almost done such a thing with a man she’d only just met? Though she’d technically known him for years. None-the-less, Seth might’ve been on to something.

The minute they left she closed the door and sank down against the closet. While she wanted to cry her heart out she wouldn’t. While she wanted to revel in the phenomenal feelings Colin had just pulled from her she wouldn’t. No, now was the time to think clearly and get her thoughts in order.

“McKayla, can we come in?”

She exhaled through her nose and hung her head. Sheila and Leslie, of course. “No, I’m changing, be out soon!” she called.

The door burst open and both entered. Leslie closed the door, her clipped voice ringing through the room. “Then we’ll help you change.”

McKayla bent her knees, rested her elbows on them and held her forehead. “Seriously, I’m good, just needed a few minutes alone.”

“Yeah, you’re as good as I would be if I had that hot-as-hell highlander in my bedroom alone with me for twenty minutes,” Sheila remarked, sitting down on the floor opposite her. “How’d that go, anyways? Let me guess, he almost had you, huh?”

“You’re as bad as Seth with your speculations,” Leslie said sternly, though a hint of curiosity marked her ever-focused tone as she sat on the bed. “I’m sure he told her what she needed to know and they talked it out.”