Page 46 of Laird Of Her Heart

“Hmm?”

“About the ambush.”

She nodded. “I know.”

His head whipped around and he gaped at her. But then he chuckled. “Are you right all the time?”

“No.”

“Thank God for small mercies.”

“I didn’t know the Camerons would attack.” Indeed, they hadn’t. At least, not in the history she knew. But then, she’d changed history, hadn’t she? When she’d saved Dominic and his men from the ambush, she’d changed the course of the river. Of course that would cause ripples. It stood to reason the Camerons would attack if they’d failed in their attempt to take out the Macintosh.

She had to wonder what other effects her small act of mercy would have over the next few millennia. Hopefully nothing too drastic. She’d hate to go home and discover something terrible…like the Nazis had won WWII or that Starbucks only served decaf.

The thought palled.

And then another thought hit her and hit her hard.

Go home?

Her stomach clenched at the thought.

Oh, she loved coffee and cheesecake and couldn’t say enough about the miracles of fast food restaurants and reality TV, but the prospect of living the rest of her life without Dominic…well, it made her want to weep.

She glanced up at him, studying him. Trying to picture him in Seattle.

An old woman came up to him and handed him a cup. He took it with a smile of thanks and exchanged a word with her, and with another. It was there on his face, his dedication to these people. To his lands.

He would not be happy in Seattle.

He would not be happy leaving his homeland.

He would hate the frustrations of modern times. Traffic and pollution and man’s inhumanity to man. Mostly the fact that he would be able to control none of it.

He was very much the kind of man who liked having control of his own destiny. Very few people did in her world, though they liked to pretend they did.

No. If they were to be together, she would have to stay—if he wanted her to stay.

He turned and caught her gaze on him. His smile faded and he came to her, cupped her cheek in his broad palm. “What is it Maggie-mine?”

Ah. She’d never thought to hear those words from him again.

“Have you forgiven me for what I did?” she asked, staring up at him, half afraid he would step away.

He stared at her. “For what? Saving my life? My brother’s life?”

“Technically, I just warned you.”

“Technically, you saved my life. Without that warning, without your interference, I would no doubt have been slaughtered with my kinsmen.”

“You would have been.”

“I appreciate what you did. I apologize for my anger at you. Can you forgive me?”

She wrinkled her nose. “That depends.”

He paled. His hand shook, just a tad. “On what?”