“Actually, I love Scotland—all of it. And these Lowlands protect my Highland mountains. I stay because I want to, Makenna,” he gently countered, watching her wring her hands in frustration…or maybe it was panic.

Stripped as she was of her haughty demeanor, Colin could see that Dunlop had been correct. Makenna was indeed afraid. Until now, Colin had not realized how much the idea of marriage frightened her. Gone was the snippy female who verbally attacked him whenever possible. In her place was a panic-filled woman who kept looking at him with large liquid-green eyes that begged him to change his mind.

Colin was about to pull her into his arms and whisper it would be all right, that she had nothing to fear, when Makenna tried one last plea for a reprieve. “If you marry me, you will grow to hate this land you now claim to love. I tell you the truth,” she said, stepping backward until she bumped into a tree. “I would be a horrible wife for any man. I have no knowledge about running a home, let alone a keep the size of Lochlen. My knowledge of men is limited to what they can do with an axe and a broadsword, and no matter how hard I would try, I could never be the kind, gentle beauty Deirdre was.” Makenna had barely spoken the last words when she found herself pinned between his two hands and the tree.

Hearing Makenna say that she would try and fail to be Deirdre caused a reaction in Colin he couldn’t explain. It was incredibly important that she not be like his late wife. “Listen to me now, Makenna. I don’t expect you to be, nor do I want you to try to be, Deirdre. She was my wife, and she is now dead.”

Makenna gulped. His face was mere inches away from hers. His blue eyes blazed with an intensity that reinforced his every word. Suddenly, her eyes popped open and became large with hope. “Are you saying you want a marriage in name only?”

Colin could feel the quick rise and fall of her hand-sized breasts. Just one more inch closer and he would feel her slim hips against his. She licked her full lips and Colin knew that he wanted to taste them, pull at them, devour them. No, this would not be a marriage in name only. “I am not a monk, Makenna, nor do I intend to live like one. I am a man who wants sons, and this will be a marriage in every sense of the word,” he vowed before claiming her mouth for his own.

The second his lips touched hers Makenna felt herself responding. His mouth was warm and soft, silently urging her to comply. Half her mind waited for the feeling of wrongness to take over and end this insanity. But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel like she was kissing the man who made her curse more in the past twelve months than in all her painful years of training. Colin was teaching her what it was like to be a woman, to kiss like a woman, to feel like a woman. It was incredible, unexpected, and powerful. And Makenna wanted more.

As if they had a will of their own, her arms stole around his neck as her lips parted in a silent plea for him to deepen the kiss. Colin needed no further encouragement. He moved to cradle her head between his hands and urged her to her tiptoes. She complied, and he kissed her long and soft and deep, capturing her tongue and drawing it into his own mouth. Never had a kiss been so satisfying.

Makenna’s untutored passion was unmatched by any woman he had ever touched. Her fiery nature made him desire her more than he dreamed possible. Was it because she was so different from Deirdre? His late wife had been too fragile for the passion and heat of desire. Whatever the reason, he no longer cared.

Makenna had been kissed, but never like this. Oh, Leon MacCuaig had tried often enough and every once in a while landed a lucky peck, but he had no idea how to touch a woman and cause her to burn up in flames. Colin was creating sensations and reactions she couldn’t explain. Her body was quivering, and at any moment, her legs would give beneath her. She clutched his shoulders, afraid that if she fell, the spell would be gone.

Deep inside her, something had recognized and then responded to the masculine need in him. It wasn’t just a physical need, but a connection. A commonality beyond that of her sister. It was two lonely souls finding one another in a storm of passion and need.

Colin nipped at her lips before plunging again into the warmth of her mouth, seeking her tongue. She welcomed every stroke, every caress with equally surprising passion. Makenna clung to him in confusion and desire. He could feel her tremble and pulled her close to keep her from falling. He was not ready to end this unexpected gift she was giving him.

Makenna was sharing a piece of herself she had shared with no man. Colin felt both satisfaction and fulfillment, knowing he was the first to discover the passions that lay beneath her prickly demeanor. It would be worth enduring a hundred verbal wars with her to experience this again.

Makenna moved closer, clinging to him as if her body knew there was more. Colin’s heart was pounding so fast he thought it would explode. Every caress, every response she gave him was genuine, unrehearsed, unforced. She wanted him; he wanted her. Badly. So much that if he did not stop now, he wouldn’t be able to.

When he finally forced his lips to release hers, his chest was heaving with the effort it took to breathe. He gathered her close against him and thrust his fingers through her thick damp hair.

A deep sigh escaped her slightly swollen lips. She could feel his dark body hair beneath her cheek in the opening of his leine and decided she never wanted to move. He smelled so good, and it felt strangely right to be this close to him. Tomorrow she would wonder why she had been drawn to his embrace, and if she had only imagined the powerful emotions hidden beneath Colin’s cool exterior. But for right now, she just wanted to relish his strength and control and the intoxicating effect of his kisses.

Colin held her for several minutes waiting for his body to calm. Instead, every muscle remained alive with need. She had to leave and quickly, before he lost the control he took such pride in having. “Be at the chapel an hour before the sun sets. Tomorrow we will be wed,” he ordered gruffly, moving her away from him.

Colin quickly turned around lest she see his burgeoning manhood. Cold water was his only hope in dampening the fires she had ignited with her honest response to his embrace. Even with his back to her, he could still see the memory of her naked flesh as she emerged dripping with lucky droplets of water that touched every morsel of her body.

He dove into the cold waters thankful for their magical cure, but he knew it was only temporary. Later, as he sought sleep, he would remember her taste on his tongue—hot, wet, and sweet. Thank God, he only had to wait one night. Makenna would be his wife on the morrow and as soon as possible afterward, he was going to make love to her until all the needs pulsing through him were satisfied.

Makenna stood puzzled and hurt, staring at his retreating back for several minutes. After all his talk about running around unescorted, the man was actually going to leave her to ride back to Lochlen alone while he took a swim. The kiss was just a way for him to manipulate her into abiding his will.

She found her brown chestnut tied beside his large black mount and jumped on its back. She looked at the vacant spot from which Colin disappeared and uttered aloud, “You may be able to kiss, Colin McTiernay, but you’re still an overgrown giant. And you may be getting a wife tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean I will suddenly submit to you or your archaic rules. I will ride, and I will hunt, and I will keep training with a sword. And you can find someone else to run your keep and warm your bed.”

Makenna turned her horse and began riding hard back to the noise and firelight of Lochlen. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “What were you thinking, Deirdre?”





Chapter Two





Makenna felt like her mind had temporarily dislodged from her body. From the moment she had woken up, the noise in her chambers had only grown in volume. Her sisters, Rona and Ula, had ordered everyone to report to them, and they had claimed the bride’s room as their base of operations. Nonstop orders were issued to a constant stream of people shuffling in and out of her room. After years of watching her sisters orchestrate every clan event whether large or small, Makenna knew the role she was expected to play—silent and unseen. It seemed her wedding day was to be no different.

“There,” Rona announced with a dramatic sigh, rising to close the door. “I believe everyone is ready but you, Makenna. I am not sure how you would have managed if Ula and I had not been so willing to sacrifice our time away from our own homes.”

With her tall, elegant frame and enviable blond hair, Rona epitomized the Dunstan daughters and she had never let Makenna forget how incredibly different she was from the rest of them.

Makenna glanced at her sister before turning away to roll her eyes. “It’s the least you could do after barging into my room,” Makenna mumbled to herself. “The sun had barely risen before I had to deal with you and Ula’s never-ending chatter about every little thing from my hair to my dress.”

Makenna knew she should have expected her sisters’ early morning greeting. In an effort to gain their father’s favor—and some of his riches—Ula and Rona had arrived at Lochlen over a month ago to ensure that the wedding went off as planned. Brimming with never-ending criticism about the feast, the ceremony, her dress, and even the priest presiding over the nuptials, they had been nearly intolerable. Throughout it all, Makenna had remained firm. There was going to be no wedding, so it was not necessary for anyone to make plans.