Makenna knew Colin was lying. She had witnessed Colin fighting to control his fury when speaking with his men. All three of the undamaged soldiers still had their daggers with them, and all the blades had been bloody. None of the men apologized either; something she would have expected if Sean’s wound had been caused by a friend. No, whoever did this was an enemy, but whose enemy—Colin’s or the clan’s?

She thought about calling Colin on his lie, but decided against it. For some reason, he did not want to tell her the truth, and she sensed it was not to be condescending or to be in control, but from a need to protect.

“Will you have to go? To check out that noise?” she asked, giving him a way to perpetuate his lie.

Colin’s brows shot up in surprise. “Aye, I…will,” he answered. Blue eyes searched hers for a moment, seeking an indication of whether she believed him or not.

The men returned and began assembling a bed, tightening the ropes before laying the mattress down. Warily, under Makenna’s watchful eye, they lifted Sean and placed him on the bedding. She quickly inspected the poultice bandage on his side and applied the ground ivy compress to his arm and forehead. The wounds were clean and the bleeding had stopped, at least for now.

“Camus, I need to go to my chambers and dress. I will return directly.”

Makenna headed toward the archway to exit the hall and entered the night air. Colin caught up with her and pulled her into his arms. Needing his strength, Makenna gave in to her desire to be held by him.

Things had been so tense between them, and Colin knew this embrace had not resolved whatever was wrong, but it felt good to hold her once more. After a long moment, he kissed her head and whispered into her hair, “Dunlop and I need to leave now. Gorten and Brodie will remain here and protect you. It should not take me more than a few days.”

Makenna nodded against his chest, soaking up his warmth. “Just you and Dunlop?”

“Aye, we should not be gone long. Few days at the most.”

Makenna wanted to say, “Take care. I love you,” but the words would not come out. She felt vulnerable and exposed enough just by his holding her heart.

After a while, Colin slipped Makenna out of his arms in preparation to leave. He looked down and was temporarily frozen. Her eyes had turned a deep forest green. Without thought, he closed his hand around the back of her head and brought her lips up close to his. “Oh, how I will miss you, Makenna.” Then Colin cupped her chin with his hands and kissed her.

His mouth came down on hers before Makenna could even think of moving. She wanted to fight the passionate onslaught, but she didn’t have the strength. A shudder passed through her, and she knew the ragged moan that had escaped was her own.

Colin meant only to give her a gentle kiss. Aye, he meant to say good-bye and remind her of what they once shared, but when Makenna’s arms went around his neck and her mouth opened to him, inviting him in, he found himself kissing her with a hunger akin to pain. Gathering her in his arms, he gave her a hot, searing kiss that held nothing back. Finally, he reluctantly eased himself away from her and disappeared through the gatehouse calling for his horse.


Makenna leaned back and released a joyful sigh. Sean was going to live.

The morning following the attack Sean had started running a fever. During the next twenty-four hours, it continued to grow. He fought drinking the tea and tried to hit anyone who came near him. More than once, Makenna was glad that she had learned to dodge and weave so well, though she never imagined applying the skill in such a way.

Camus came in and relieved her for short bursts, but his knowledge of medicines was only limited to what Makenna had taught him.

The summer he had first started teaching Makenna the ways of swordplay, she had gotten scraped a few times. Fortunately, a visiting nun had taught Makenna the healing properties of some herbs and how to apply them. Afraid that her father would discover her injuries, Makenna had begged Camus to keep the bag of herbs with him lest her father inquire why she would need such items. Camus had held them ever since.

The next two days Sean’s fever raged. He seemed to go through bouts of insanity either attempting to hit Makenna for trying to bury him under burning covers of flame, or lunging at her seeking a kiss while calling Makenna by a female’s name she had never heard before.

Near midnight of the fourth night following the attack, Sean’s head began to cool. He no longer burned her fingers to the touch. She stood and stretched and went to shake Camus, who was sleeping in a chair with his head propped up on the table. “Camus,” Makenna whispered, nudging her friend.

“Huh? What? He worse?”

“No, better. I think our soldier is going to live to fight another battle. He should wake soon. Try to make him drink, but don’t—under any circumstances—let him move. I need a bath. No.” She wagged a finger at him. “I already know I stink and don’t need to be teased about it.”

Camus grinned, glad to see Makenna in better spirits. She had taken only spots of sleep the past few nights and had done very little for herself as she deemed it would keep her away for too long. “I was only going to ask if you wanted me to wake the staff and have them heat some water.”

Camus knew her staff wouldn’t mind. The past few days had shown everyone, even the most hardened, Makenna’s true character. There was a good chance they would argue over who should be the one to serve their mistress.

Makenna yawned and then shook her head left to right once. While she was watching over Sean, the staff had taken the load of her work onto themselves. They had done it without complaint, but she would not burden them further by lessening their sleep. “No, I think I need the cool waters of the loch.”

“When you return, go to bed. Do not come back here until you have slept. If you do, I’ll carry you to your chambers myself.”

“Ah, Camus, you remind me so much of my father.”

“That is the highest of compliments, milady. But it won’t change what will happen if you come back without a good night’s sleep.”

Makenna waved at him and left. She was too tired to argue. She desperately wanted sleep but knew it would not come until she felt clean once again.


Colin arrived at Lochlen and hastily handed his black to the sleepy stable master. He went directly to the solar to check on Makenna. The bed had not been slept in. Assuming she was with Sean, he headed to the lower hall, finding only Sean and Camus awake by the hearth. Sean was taking some broth offered by the old sword smith.

At the noise, Camus looked up and waved Colin over. “Laird, it is good to have you back.”

Sean glanced over his shoulder. “Lady Makenna was like a beautiful angel. She saved my life.”

“Glad to see you are doing better,” Colin managed to get out. It was hard to be civil to another man so open with his affection for Makenna. She was his, and since the distance had erupted between them, he had grown only more possessive of her.

“Aye, she did,” Camus added. “Your wife stayed in here day and night. Only when Sean’s fever broke did she acquiesce to a swim and some sleep. I believe she left for the loch less than a half hour ago with both Gorten and Brodie in tow.”


Makenna stared out at the water glistening in the moonlight. There was a slight breeze causing the surface to ripple and her exposed skin to bristle. She looked around searching the shadows once again. When she had arrived, she thought she heard footsteps and felt the weight of eyes upon her. But when she had gone to investigate, nothing had been there.

Makenna approached the water’s edge and dipped in her toe. The always cold water had taken on a frigid temperature. Fall had started in earnest and she could see her breath in the early morning air.

She took a few steps, braced herself, and then plunged into the icy depths. Her body immediately shunned the cold. Small bumps rippled along her flesh as she stroked the water trying to build heat within her veins. It was not working.

Swimming over to the rock where she had placed her bathing items, she took the soap and began to scrub vigorously at her flesh. It had been only four days since her last bath, but it felt more like thirty. Slowly, she felt the layers of grime wash away and began to massage her hair. She submerged, twisting her head back and forth under the water, rinsing all the soap out, feeling at last somewhat normal again.

Colin saw her emerge out of the water like a siren calling to her next victim. He had no intention in fighting the pull. Immediately he began to strip off his clothes.

Makenna rubbed her eyes to free the attached droplets and felt her jaw drop. Colin was there. And he was removing his belt. “What are you doing?” she snapped, appalled that he just might come in and join her. After their last kiss, she had sworn not to let him catch her in a vulnerable position again.

Colin smiled. It was the first feisty comment she had made in weeks. “Now, I remember a time when you greeted me quite differently when I returned from a trip.”

Makenna pointed at his plaid he was throwing next to hers. “Well, that is not now. Put those clothes right back on!”

Chuckling, he responded, “Then they would get wet.” He sat down on a smooth knee-high rock and proceeded to unlace one of his leggings.

A large sense of unease enveloped Makenna. She would not be able to withstand both her emotional need and physical need for him. She was too tired, and her desire for him was too great. Pride rallied one last time. “Colin, I forbid you to come in here. I am bathing. I was here first, and I want to be alone. Come back when I am done.” Her voice had started out strong but had evolved into a desperate plea.