“L-let me touch ye.” She reached between the bars again, her slim fingers inches from his face.
Long ago those fingertips worked magic on his body and soul. Enough to make him want her forever. Enough for him to bend his knee and beg for her hand in marriage. Shaking off what had become a dark memory that constantly plagued him, he pressed against the cold steel bars and encircled her wrist with his hand, tugging her as close as she could get. “Go ahead, lass, touch me where ye will. I am no longer the man ye knew. No longer affected by a pretty face or honeyed words spoken in the heat of passion. Women serve only one purpose for me, and tis not what’s between yer ears that interests me anymore.”
She struggled to free her hand from his grasp, but he only tightened his hold, giving her a shake.
“Ye’re hurting me, Alexander.”
He shot a knowing look at her. “Pain makes ye stronger, lass—best ye remember it.” He let go, remembering how he’d left the Highlands in the middle of the night after she broke his heart, too ashamed to even bid his father farewell. He’d sailed to the Orkney Islands first, then joined several men who were bound for Constantinople in search of fame and fortune.
In reality, he should thank the lass for sparing him a lifetime of wedded misery. Her betrayal provided him with the opportunity he needed to carve out his own existence—to earn his own money. By Highland standards, Alex MacKay was a wealthy man—he could afford to buy a title of his own, even start his own clan.
“Where is John?”
Alex gritted his teeth. Every time the lass spoke, it felt as if he’d been dragged through hot coals, his body on fire with a litany of dangerous emotions. Honestly, dreams couldna compare to seeing Keely in person again. Though he disliked her, she did appeal to his carnal side still—like smelling the soft fragrance in her hair or feeling the heat that radiated from her tiny body. He silently thanked the heavens for the steel barrier between them; otherwise, he’d show her how he truly felt.
“Alexander…” she said. “I want to see John. Now.”
His mouth fell in a tight line. Who was she to make demands of any kind? A spoiled Sutherland wench? Rage took over, and he ripped the skeleton key from his belt and unlocked the cell door.
“Ye want to see yerhusband?”
“Aye.”
“I willna keep ye from him any longer, then.” He pulled her out of the cell and gripped her arm. “Say nothing to me, Keely, or I’ll shove ye back in that cell so quickly, yer teeth will rattle.”
Alex kept a firm grip on her arm as he directed her up the stairs, down a long corridor, then outside. They crossed the inner courtyard to the kirk.
“Ye requested an audience with John, milady?”
She nodded.
Her audacity was admirable. Keely never shrank from speaking her mind or letting her feelings be known. In another lifetime, she would have made a formidable wife for a laird.
Letting go of her arm to open the heavy wooden door of the kirk, he stepped aside to grant her access. The sanctuary was bathed in candlelight. A table stood at the center of the nave, surrounded by silver candle stands and decorated with heather wreaths.
Keely gaped at Alex. “Why are we here?”
“Go.” He gave her a shove. “Look for yerself.”
He watched with fascination as her curious gaze swept the open space. Twas time someone taught the infuriating lass a hard lesson—be careful what ye ask for.
Keely inched closer to the table. Lying in repose and draped in MacKay plaid with his sword gripped in both hands, was Laird John MacKay.
He’d fallen in battle yesterday. The memory was so real—Alex had fought back-to-back with his brother; they were outnumbered by the Sutherland soldiers. It dinna matter, for together, Alex and John were invincible—united by their love for Clan MacKay.
Alex fought lightning-quick and without mercy, while John could deflect any blow. Once they’d cleared the area around them, John pointed to three of his men who seemed to be struggling to defend their ground.
Alex scanned the field. “There’s another skirmish over there.”
“Aye,” John said. “But Mathe is with them. The others need our guidance more.”
Alex nodded and raised his sword. “Go!”
Within moments, an arrow shot by a coward hidden within the trees struck John in the back. By grace alone, Alex caught his brother before he fell.
“God damn all Sutherlands,” Alex said, positioning John’s head on his lap.
John struggled to take a full breath but managed a weak smile. “The Sutherlands breed like rabbits—twould take a lot of damning to get them all.” He coughed up blood.
