Highlander's Faerie (Highlander Heat #5)

“It’s all right.” She wound her arms around his neck and plastered herself against him. “Where’s Finlay? And where exactly are we?”


“Off the coast between Mull and Jura.” He glanced at Archie as he hauled himself into the birlinn.

“Heave,” Archie called to one of his men in the water. He reached over the side and grunting, lugged a body on board. Water sluiced from the hefty chainmail wrapped around Finlay and his head lolled back on an impossible angle. Two men carried his body to the bow and beyond her sight. Archie strode toward her and knelt at her feet. “Did you suffer any injuries?”

“What happened to Finlay?”

“There was naught I could do. He broke his neck in the fall.” Ever so gently, he lifted her hair from her forehead and muttered under his breath. “Damn him. He hurt you.”

“Are you sure Finlay’s dead?” She shivered uncontrollably.

“Aye, we’ll bury him on Jura. For now, we’ll set sail afore any more MacLeans have the chance to catch us up.” He strode away.

“No one is supposed to die because of me.” She grasped John’s shirtfront.

“His death was a surety the moment he stole you away. What happened to him isnae your fault.” John tore a strip from his tunic’s hem, wrapped it around her head wound and knotted it lightly.

Hot tears burned behind her eyes.

“Katherine, nay.” John tipped up her chin. “Look at me. You’re no’ to blame yourself for his death.”

“I’ve changed history. He isn’t supposed to die because of me.” She tucked her cheek on his chest and shivered inside the tartan.

“A warrior’s life is never long and he chose his own destiny.” He tucked her drying hair behind her ear. “Rest while we sail. I’ll watch over you.”

“Don’t stop talking to me.” Her eyelids drooped. All that had happened over the past few days caught up with her and darkness edged her vision. “I need to hear your voice.”

“You need to rest more than…”

She battled to focus on his drifting voice. He was all she’d ever dreamed of, and now safe again in his arms, she let go and allowed the dark to pull her under.



Waves slapped against the birlinn’s sides as the boat rocked and dipped, the sound tugging Katherine further toward wakefulness.

“Go back to sleep.” John’s voice floated over her then his lips brushed her cheek. “Sleep.”

She stretched and pushed her eyes open. Night had fallen and the moon, hidden behind a dark layer of cloud, cast John’s face in shadow. “Where are we?”

“We’ve no’ long left the northern tip of Jura. Archie brought the birlinn into shore and buried Finlay on MacLean soil. The wind is easing now, so we’ll need to make landfall somewhere safe for the night. You’ve naught to fear. We’ll soon pass from MacLean land to our MacDonald soil. You’ll be safe.”

“I’m always safe when I’m with you.” She cupped his stubbly jaw. “I’m not sure I ever thanked you for coming to my rescue.”

“I gave you my promise of protection and ’twill always stand firm.”

“So I’ve learnt.” She edged up and kissed his chin.

“You’re such a complete distraction.” His gaze held deep longing and it pulled at her heart. “Kiss me again, my sweet imp, and this time dinnae miss my lips.”

“And you’re a demanding man, but I love that.” She licked his lower lip and as he groaned, she grinned. “I’ve heard distraction is good for the soul.”

“So is a little peace.”

“Well, you know me. I’m all for a little peace.”





Chapter 9


As the wind died away, the men lowered the sail and rowed. They passed into the southern portion of Jura’s waters and after rounding the tip, cruised into an isolated bay. Beside Katherine, John lifted his face to the night sky, his eyes closed as he breathed deep. She did the same, taking in the scents of salty sea and Scotland’s freshest air. She was home, or at least now very close to home.

Ahead, along the rugged and untouched coastline, moonlight bathed the woodland’s treetops a silvery hue. “This is such a beautiful place.”

“Aye, and the place where we’ll rest for the night.”

They came ashore and the men set up camp, hunted game then roasted their meal over an open fire. Her belly rumbled as the succulent aroma of cooked goose pervaded the air.

She sat close to the fire on the blanket John spread out, her knees snuggled to her chest as the fire’s brilliant orange and red flames warmed her through. Her gown was almost dry, although the salt encrusted fabric irritated and made her want to scratch her itchy skin.

“Are you all right?” John settled in behind her, his legs either side of hers.

“I could really use a wash and a change of clothes.”

“There’s a loch no’ far from here. We’ll bathe after we’ve eaten.” He tugged her back until she rested against his chest. Gently, he twined a lock of her hair around his finger, his warmth fully enclosing her. “You have the most beautiful hair. ’Tis so pale it shimmers like gold.”