He raised a brow.
“They’re as good as new.” She lifted her foot and smiled at him.
The corner of his mouth twitched, and his gaze soft
ened. “The stones are not as smooth here. Why doona’ you let me carry you? ’Tis just beyond the bend where I mean to take you.”
Moonlight shimmering over the loch and the man of her dreams were a lethal combination. Afraid if he took her in his arms she’d never be able to let him go, Ali shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Give me yer hand at least,” he said quietly. Ali hesitated, then slid her hand into the warmth of his. She drew her gaze from their entwined fingers and met his.
“I’m glad you came, Aileanna. There’s somethin’ I wanted to talk to you aboot.”
“Oh no,” she groaned. “Can’t we cal a truce, just for one night? You won’t yel at me, and I won’t yel at you.”
Rory laughed and squeezed her hand. “Aye, a truce, but first you must let me apologize to you fer this afternoon. Sit here,” he said, leading her to a big, smooth-faced rock. 162
“Thank you.” She smiled at him as he sat down beside her.
“To tel you the truth, I real y couldn’t understand how you expected me to apologize to that woman in the first place. I know you’re going to marry her, but after what she did—”
Ali shook her head. “It surprised me, it real y did. You always seemed fair, but this time . . .” At his silence she looked at him. “What?” she asked when she spied his incredulous ex
pression.
“Aileanna, ’twas no’ what I was apologizin’ fer. ’Twas fer later, when I—” He cleared his throat. “Interrupted yer bath.”
Ali felt the heat rise to her face at the memory. He looked down at his hands and shrugged his broad shoulders. “I ken there’s no excuse, but you took my breath away, and I’m thinkin’ my brains as wel . Yer a verra bonny woman, Aileanna, and I canna’ deny I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you.”
“Only because I remind you of your wife.” She forced the words past the lump in her throat.
“Mayhap in the beginning, but no longer.”
“Why are you tel ing me this now? Nothing can come of it.” Her heart hammered in her chest. Could it? What if he told her he loved her, that he wanted her to be his wife and not Moira? Would she agree? No matter how hard she’d tried not to fal in love with this man, she had. He was everything she wanted. But could she stay here, in a time where she didn’t belong?
Ali felt like crawling under the rock. How could she have been so foolish as to al ow herself a glimmer of LORD OF THE ISLES
163
hope? Rory was too loyal, too honorable to do anything other than what he had decided to do, and it was one of the reasons she loved him. She struggled to keep her emotions in check and looked away so he would not see how painful his words were for her to hear.
It was a cruel twist of fate that had brought her into his life. If only she had been born in this time, in this place, then his clan would accept her. And maybe she would have had family connections that would have made her as much an asset to him as Moira.
With a gentle touch of his fingers to her cheek, he forced her to look at him. “The last thing I want is to hurt you, Aileanna. I wish there was a way I didna’ have to.” He looked deep in her eyes. “Mayhap it would be best if we went back.”
She placed her hand over his fingers. “Not yet. Please.”
If this was to be their only time together, she needed to make it last. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped her in his powerful arms. “Al right. This night wil be ours, but only tonight. You understand I canna’ put it off any longer, Aileanna. On the morrow I must sign the papers.”
She wanted to rage at him, to cry out at the unfairness of it, but she couldn’t. In her heart, she knew it was what he had to do. She wouldn’t want him to risk the lives of his clan because of her, to have him live with that on his con science for the rest of his life. He would never forgive her, and she would never forgive herself. Ali snuggled into the warmth of his embrace and nodded, unable to speak, to control the hot tears that slid down her cheeks.
Rory groaned. “Nay, Aileanna, yel at me, anythin’ but yer tears, lass.”
“I’m not crying,” she said, her words muffled against his chest. “I’m tough, Rory MacLeod. I don’t cry.”
He tilted her head back and captured a teardrop on his 164
fingertip. “Be strong, mo chridhe, fer me. I canna’ bear yer tears.”
Ali gave him a watery smile and wiped her eyes. “I’l try.” There was so much more she wanted to say to him, but the words wouldn’t come. Her heart ached, and she needed to put some distance between them if only to gain a semblance of her self-control. She lifted his arm from her chest and pressed a kiss to his palm.
“Where are you goin’?” he asked when she stood up.
