Then Connor caught on while the rest of them remained mystified. “Och, I cannae believe it, but then I suppose I can.” He hesitantly stepped a few paces away from Emmy more decisively went to Claire. He bent and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “I guess it makes sense why we took to ye, trusted ye so readily, aye?”
Claire pressed trembling fingers to her lips. “Oh my God, really?” She turned wide eyes on Donell. “Really?”
“One of my best kept secrets,” he confirmed. “And I’d like to keep it that way. Things will only get worse for ye if Jameson figures it oot.”
Only then did Emmy get it.
“Are you saying she’s my…she’s our…?” She covered her mouth again, mumbling through her fingers. “Holy…holy shit.”
“More than acceptable at this point, my love,” Connor told her.
She stared at Claire with the benumbed shock of one who’s just had the rug ripped out from beneath them. And so she had. In a million years, she never would have guessed it, but Connor had a point, she’d bonded with Claire from the beginning. Now she knew why.
“My great-great…oh, I cannot bother counting.”
Emmy raced to her new friend’s side and hugged her fiercely. Their refrain ofoh my God, oh my, Godsang in a soft duet that brought smiles to everyone’s faces despite the cloud hanging over all their heads.
“Now ye see why ye maun return to yer own time wi’ haste,” Donell grumbled, breaking up the party. “Ye’ll need to be making bairns of yer own.”
“Which one?” Emmy inquired, pulling away at last but keeping Claire’s hand in hers. She did some quick math in her head. “Not Connor the Fourth’s grandchild, obviously. Claire would have recognized the name straight away if it were.”
“No’ that it matters but Claire is descended from yer daughter,” Donell told them. “She weds an Englishman…”
“Gads, another American?” Rhys quipped. “My condolences.”
Donell rolled his eyes. “Her daughter wed an American and so forth. Satisfied? Can we be off?”
“Nay.” Connor planted his feet and glowered down at the old man. It was a look Emmy hadn’t seen in some time. Probably not since the day she’d been dropped into the past. Anger, suspicion. Protectiveness. “I’ll no’ be going anywhere until I ken Claire is safe from this madman. Until they’re all safe.”
“I’ll second that,” Emmy concurred, slipping her free hand into his to form a unified front. “We’re staying.”
Her husband smiled down at her, his rich chocolaty eyes flooded with love. “Aye, we are. Though it pleases me to nae end ye’ll eventually return home wi’ me of yer own free will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I’ll admit I had some uncertainty whether ye’d make the choice twice after seeing how well ye fit in this time.”
Indignation burst in Emmy’s chest. “Of all the…! I’d make the same choice a thousand times over even if this place fit like a damn glove, Connor MacLean. Which it wouldn’t without you in it, FYI! How could you even think…? Oh. My. God. You are the mos—”
Hauling her against him, Connor thwarted her reprimand in the most effective way possible. Covering her mouth with his in a hard, intoxicating kiss, he bent her back over his arm until all thought was gone.
Grinning broadly, he set her back on her feet and that smug grin became a conceited chuckle when she wobbled to the side like a drunk on a bender. “Don’t think you got away with anything, mister,” her words slurred through her swollen lips. “I’ll still have a thing or two say about this later on.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest and smirked like the cocky bastard he was. Lord Connor had the savage charisma of an ancient Highlander in his kilt, and oozed posh aristocracy in his tux. This Connor, though—rugged, gorgeous, relaxed and satisfied—was somewhere in between the two. He was the one who’d stolen her heart.
“Aye and I look forward to it, lass.”
Scarlett
“Wait,” Scarlett interrupted the happy moment. Her eyes… and scowl, were all for Donell. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. This isn’t just some cosmic coincidence, you showing up just when we’re talking about you, is it? You’ve been watching us? Listening to us? All this time?”
“No’ all the time, but of late, aye.” Donell shrugged as if it were no big deal that he was eavesdropping on their lives, but Laird had him snatched up by his collar and his feet dangling in the air before his shoulder had time to drop.
“Where were ye last night when my wife’s life was in danger then?” he growled.
“Betcha didn’t see that coming,” Emmy murmured under her breath.
Scarlett didn’t succumb to Emmy’s attempt at humor but it did give her a glimmer of pleasure to see the old man swinging in the air. A little payback for all the times he’d left them hanging with his sudden appearances and disappearances.
