Now that they were back among his men, Arran had snapped into the role of the laird as easily as donning a well-worn suit. He issued commands, asked questions, gathered information, and watched the shore approach with an intense gaze.
Jenna was almost glad when they landed at an isolated beach topped with sand dunes and tussocky grass. It was not the beach where she’d swum earlier. Mal explained that he’d brought them back a different route that would land them as close to Dun Tabor aspossible. A band of men were waiting atop the dunes with horses, and the group were mounted and on their way before Jenna could even blink.
She found herself on a different horse but it plodded behind Mal’s docilely. Arran rode next to Mal and for the whole of the ride the two of them had their heads together, discussing the business of the clan to which Jenna was not privy. He didn’t so much as glance in her direction.
It did not take long for them to reach Dun Tabor and as they rode through the gates she spotted Rosaline, Ingrid, and several other people waiting for them by the doors. When the group clattered into the courtyard, Rosaline threw all decorum to the wind and came running, throwing her arms around Arran and hugging him tightly. Arran suffered his mother’s attentions in silence.
“Ye will be the death me, Arran MacLeod!” she scolded him, pushing him to arm’s length and looking him up and down. “When the message came from Mal about what happened… I should paddle yer backside for ye!”
“All is well, mother,” Arran replied in a patient voice. “As ye can see, both Lady Jenna and I are in one piece.”
Rosaline turned to Jenna, her hands flying to her mouth. “Look at ye!” she cried. “Ye look half frozen to death!” She snapped her fingers and Ingrid came running, throwing a blanket around Jenna’s shoulders.
It was a warm day, and now that her shift was almost dry, she was not cold, but she smiled and murmured her thanks anyway. It was nice to be fussed over. It reminded her of being at home with her aunts. Oh, how she could do with their advice right now!
Although, she thought, as she glanced at Arran, her aunts would give her conflicting advice where the handsome laird was concerned. Aunt Rose, always polite and proper, would caution against such a pointless dalliance. Aunt Elise, on the other hand, always the wild childof the family, would tell Jenna to let her hair down and enjoy herself. After what had happened with Alex, didn’t she deserve it?
Thoughts of Alex twisted her gut and made whatever pleasantness she’d been feeling after her encounter with Arran evaporate like mist under the sun. Aunt Rose was right: Jenna shouldnothave succumbed to her attraction to Arran. It would only serve to further complicate an already complicated situation.
Arran turned suddenly and met her gaze. Something passed across his features and it took a moment for her to place the look in his eyes. It had looked like… like… longing. Whatever it was, it was enough to send her thoughts scattering and the heat to flood her cheeks again. Then Mal said something and he looked away.
“Come,” Rosaline said, taking Jenna by the shoulder. “Let’s get ye into a nice warm bath and a change of clothes. I bet ye could do with it after the day ye’ve had.”
Jenna nodded and didn’t protest as the older woman led her into Dun Tabor. But as she walked away, it was all she could do to stop herself looking back at Rosaline’s son.
Chapter Seventeen
“Did ye hearwhat I said?” Mal demanded.
“Hmm. What?” Arran pulled his gaze away from where he’d been watching Jenna disappear through the doors of the keep and fixed his attention on his cousin.
Mal rolled his eyes. “I asked why ye came riding out to find us this afternoon. Ye seemed in quite the hurry when ye found us at the cove.”
In all the confusion of what had happened, Arran had forgotten to tell Mal about what Merrick had discovered about Njord and his followers. He growled under his breath, annoyed with himself. Whatever else might have happened today, he wasstillthe chieftain of this island, and the safety of his people came first. As his captain, Mal should have been the first to learn of this new development, not one of the last.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s stable the horses and I’ll fill ye in.”
Mal nodded, waved away the stable lads who were waiting to take the horses, and together they led their mounts into the cool dimness of the stable. As they stepped inside, the familiar scent of hay and horses filled Arran’s nostrils, soothing in its familiarity.
He led Bran into a stall while Mal put his own mount into a stall opposite and the two of them began untacking the horses and then brushing them down. As they worked, Arran filled Mal in on whatBrother Merrick had learned and what he thought it might mean. To be honest, he was glad of the distraction as it kept him from thinking about Jenna.
When he was done, Mal fell silent. “So what do we do?” he said at last. “Ask Lir for help? She’s intervened before, so she might do again.”
Arran shook his head. “Nay. I think Lir has done all she can by helping me to bring Jenna here. This is something we have to work out on our own. But Njord has something to do with why Jenna canna heal the magic, I’m sure of it.”
As soon as he said her name, thoughts of her filled his head. The feel of her smooth skin, the touch of her silky hair, the soft scent of her all around him. And the indescribable sensations that had coursed through him as he’d made love to her.
He still couldn’t believe it had happened. It felt like a dream. He’d known women—plenty of women—but he’d never felt anything for them like what he felt for Jenna. It wasn’t just physical either. What they’d done on the beach today was just the culmination of what had been growing inside him ever since he’d met her, something he hadn’t been able to put a name to, but had grown stronger and deeper the more time he spent with her.
He knew he should not have let it happen. But, by all the gods in all the heavens, he did not regret it. For the first time in a long, long time, he had felt alive. Because of her. Jenna MacFinnan. Spellweaver and time traveler. A woman he could not have.
“Are ye all right?”
Arran’s thoughts snapped back, and he blinked. “I’m fine. Why?”
Mal frowned at him. “Ye seem… distracted. And ye were staring at Jenna something fierce just now.”
“Dinna talk nonsense, man,” Arran growled. “I wasnae staring.”
