“Do you see whales and the like here?” He was watching the shimmering, moving sea.
“Sometimes. We also see dolphins and occasionally sharks. The dolphins flee if the sharks come around, though they are usually basking sharks, and not harmful.”
“You must have come here often to know so much about this rock.” There was so much unsaid in his words that she caught her breath, looked away.
“Most of my life,” she said quietly. “Now I come out here as often as I can.” She lifted her face to the wind that was fresh on her cheeks and ruffled her hair. “A peaceful place in its way. And a worthy habitat for many creatures.
“I do appreciate that, though you think I do not.”
She slanted a sideways glance at him. If he realized she shared Lady Strathlin’s opinions, he was too close to guessing the connection.
“I promise we will not disturb the bird colonies or the seals or anything else here. We will just make room for the lighthouse and be on our way.”
“How long might that take?” Still, she did not look his way.
“Longer than you’d like, I suspect. It will take time. I have supervised putting up lighthouses elsewhere, and I must say the wildlife did not seem bothered except during construction. Later they came back, even with an enormous lighthouse standing there. Does that reassure you?”
“Some,” she admitted.
“Take that message to Lady Strathlin, though I suspect she will never trust me. But I tell you, Meg MacNeill—I am sincere in this. People have died on this reef. I cannot forget that.”
“Nor can I, Mr. Stewart,” she said stiffly. “Another thing about this place you should know. Look up there.” She indicated the tall stack rock thrusting out of the water, not far from the cliff edge where they stood. “That is Creig nan Iolair.”
“Craig nanyoolur,” he repeated. “What does it mean?”
“Eagle Rock.”
“Ah. I heard that eagles sometimes nest around here.”
She had included that in the letter too. “They have built aeries up there for generations. Golden eagles go soaring around this rock, and sea eagles nest up there too. The white-tailediolair mhar,the rarest of eagles in Scotland.”
“So you worry that the lighthouse will keep the eagles away as well.”
“The eagles know they are safe here.”
“And I promise you they will always be safe,” he said firmly.
“But all the noise and activity in this peaceful sanctuary could disturb them.”
“Once the lighthouse is done, the rock will be quiet again, with just one or two keepers in residence. And boats have always gone back and forth. Peace will reign again. I promise—”
“You cannot promise!” she burst out. Thoughts of birds and lighthouses fell away as the hurt of years overtook her. “You cannot promise me anything, Dougal Stewart!”
She turned to walk away, but his hand lashed out to take her arm and pull her back. “Meg,” he said gruffly. He turned her swiftly, brought her close, so that she felt his heat, felt the subtle tug between his body and hers, and the answering whirl in her belly.
She pushed at him, aware that they were out of sight of others here. “Leave me be!”
His hands closed around her wrist and he held her arm against his chest. He lowered his face toward hers as if he would kiss her. Wanting to resist, she also craved his touch, cravedsomething different, something better and stronger between them.
He only rested his brow on hers. “Meg MacNeill, be still and hear me out.”
“What,” she said petulantly, not giving in, though she felt herself soften. Her knees went soft beneath her, and she closed her eyes—but she was still ready to fight in defense of all the hurt, all the years of wondering, resenting, and longing.
“Let go,” she gasped. “I do not want to talk to you.”
“Just listen,” he growled, keeping her in place.
“You have nothing to say that I want to hear, and you cannot hold me against my will.”
