right here, right now, in this great cathedral.”
“I want you so much it hurts, Duncan, but I’m scared.”
“My word of honor, ye can’t kil me by loving me. You can
only do that by not letting me prove I’m more powerful than
a curse.”
“How … But how can you know that for sure?”
“I was born knowing. Go quiet, lass; can ye not feel the
mountain humming through every cel in your body?” Except
he apparently mistook her trying to feel the mountain for
hesitation, and she heard him sigh again as he dropped his
forehead to hers. “I’l tel ye what: It’l take us about two
hours to reach a pretty little pool at the base of a gushing
waterfal . Ye spend the hike listening to my magical tale,
and tel me then if you want to continue on to the cave or …”
This time hehesitated. “Or if ye want to make camp and
share the one sleeping bag I brought.”
About an hour and forty-five minutes into their hike, Duncan
felt like he’d been walking for two weeks and eleven years.
He’d spent most of the trek tel ing Peg how Mac’s father,
Titus Oceanus, had built Atlantis on which to cultivate his
Trees of Life; about the drùidhs—some of whom he was
related to—and their role in protecting the Trees, one such
species growing right here in Maine; about Robbie
MacBain’s role as clan Guardian; and his, Robbie’s, and
Alec’s fathers and Laird Greylen actual y being eleventh-
century highland warriors.
Peg had quietly listened for the most part while asking
only the occasional question, but had grabbed his pack and
pul ed him to a stop when he’d mentioned the time-
travelers. Her big blue gaze—looking more fearful than
disbelieving—had risen to the hilt of the sword on his back,
and she’d asked if he could just disappear one day like the
elder MacKeages had from their families eight hundred
years ago. He’d assured her it wasn’t any more likely to
happen to him than it could to her, and suddenly there had
been no more questions or any more soft snorts of
disbelief, even after ending his long-winded tale with why
he needed her help to attain his cal ing.
With the last fifteen minutes of their trek being made in
complete silence, Duncan both assumed and worried that
Peg was trying to decide if they would continue up the
mountain tonight or bed down together in the sleeping bag
—preferably naked—by the pool. He hoped she chose the
latter, as it was important to him that she believed that
together they could break her family’s curse beforeshe
witnessed the ful extent of the power he was about to gain.
Because, hel , he was just red-blooded enough to want his
woman to want him for himself rather than what he could do.
Had Mac had that same worry with Olivia? He knew Ian
had captured Jessie’s heart before she’d discovered the
truth about him, because Duncan had outright asked his
nephew last weekend. Ian had grown amused and in turn
had asked Duncan if he wanted to spend the rest of his life
wondering if his woman had a believer’s heart before he
had to hit her over the head with the magic to open her
eyes.
But Peg could hear the mountain breathing, which meant
she must be a believer deep down inside where it counted,
and he was also fairly certain that neither his mountain nor
the whale would have so openly welcomed her if they didn’t
know her heart.
He was the only one who didn’t know a goddamned
thing, apparently, which was why he needed Peg to wil ingly
give herself to him beforeshe saw what was in the cave.
Because as he’d told her earlier, a man needed a little
encouragement from the woman he was hopelessly in love
with.
Christ, why wasn’t she saying anything?
“C-can we stop?”
He stopped so quickly she bumped into his back,
making him have to catch her even as he stifled a curse at
how pale she was. “What’s the matter?” he asked as he
tried to read her eyes in what stingy moonlight was filtering
through the trees.
“I … These new jeans are stiff and they’re … chafing me,”
she whispered to his chest. “And my feet are starting to
blist—”
He dropped a hand behind her knees and swept her into
his arms, not even trying to stifle his curse. “Just once could
ye simply askfor my help instead of being so goddamned
stubborn?”
She also didn’t stifle a rather impressive curse, or even
bother to mutter it under her breath. “I’m too heavy,” she
growled right back, even as she wrapped an arm around
him when he started up the trail again. “You’re going to trip
and break both our necks. No, wait; I forgot you can see in
the dark by magic.”
“It’s themagic,” he said softly, this time stifling a smile.
“There’s only one, lass, and ye seem to be forgetting what I
said about offending it.”
“I thought it was Providence we’re not supposed to
offend.”
“They’re one in the same. So,” he said above the sound
of the gushing stream as he stepped into the clearing made
by the glistening pool, “it appears ye don’t get a choice
after al whether or not we’re spending the night here.”
“I don’t?”
“It’s another mile to the cave, and then another mile
inside.” He skirted the pool, set her down on one of the
boulders at the bottom of the waterfal , shucked off his pack
and sword, then knelt at her feet and started unlacing her
boots. “So here’s the plan: I’m going to build a fire while you
strip off and go for a swim to soothe the chafing. Then,” he
continued despite her gasp, “I’l wash your jeans and give
them a good beating on the rocks and set them to dry on a
branch by the—”
“That water’s got to be freezing!” she cried before he
could finish.
He grabbed the hand trying to push him away from her
boots and held it in the water, smiling when she gasped
again. “It’s warm!”
He went back to taking off her boots, being careful when
he felt her foot flinch. “Isabel warned me you’re a warm-
water bass, not a trout. Speaking of which, if ye feel little
nibbles on your toes, see if you can’t sneak up on the lucky
buggers and catch us a couple of trout for supper.”
“That water’s too warm for trout to live in.”
He reached up and gently tapped the tip of her nose,
then straightened. “Not for a magical stream, it’s not.” He
stood up. “Just leave your clothes here on the rock and I’l
get them as soon as I have a fire going.”
“You promise not to peek?”
He turned away with a snort. “No.”
A boot hit him square in the back and another one dead
center of his chest when he turned. He caught the
sweatshirt that came at him next just as he saw Peg rol into
the pool wearing her jeans, her laughter stopping when she
slipped underwater.
Oh yeah, the woman definitely owned his heart.
And they weren’t leaving this mountain until she
understood what that meant.
The sting of her chafed legs having eased from lounging at
the base of the fal s to get the whirlpool effect, Peg lazily
floated in the shadow of a towering spruce as she glanced
across the moonlit pool at Duncan reclined beside the
blazing fire he’d made. Charmed, Olivia had cal ed him. But
to Peg he was an old-fashioned, sword-carrying, kiss-
stealing, scary-driving knight in leather armor, determined
to save her from a five-generation curse she desperately
didn’t want to pass down to a sixth.
But could she chance it would be different this time,
considering how high the stakes were? Then again, maybe