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unpredictability. Who knew what he had planned for this unsuspecting girl? It was just sheer bad luck that she was the only direct descendant left in the Stewart line. He'd heard tales since he was a lad about how a Stewart lass would break the so-called curse. Really, it was quite ingenious of the 40
    Campbell to choose a Stewart to unify the clans; it was said if the Stewart Curse could be broken, the lands would once again be fruitful. Unfortunately for Connor, those lands had belonged to him.
Dawn was breaking as his attention shifted to the sleeping girl in his arms once more. He had spent the majority of the ride trying to ignore the way her soft body fit against his, and deny the uncharacteristic surge of lust he'd felt at every bump and jostle. At one point, her head had turned into his neck, and her lashes had fluttered against the skin of his throat. Connor swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the unreasonable flare of heat. Similar to his hyper-awareness of her breath coming and going, he noticed everything about her.
    She stirred. He felt first her confusion, and then the dawn of understanding as she remembered where she was. It was natural that she should be afraid of him, he thought, after all, he had abducted her on the way to meet her betrothed. He almost wanted to laugh at the naked panic on her face as she glanced back at him. If she only knew that he was definitely the lesser of the two evils.
    "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep." She quietly cleared her throat. "Where are we?"
    Her voice was husky still from sleep, and very arousing.
    She hid the panic from her voice, but he knew that it would be there in her eyes. For some reason, it was important to him that she not think the worst of him; he wanted to assuage her fears about his abducting her. That worried him; 41
    Connor did not want the complication of caring what this chit thought of him.
"We'll dismount soon and break our fast. We should be there before the noon hour," he cautioned. And then he couldn't resist teasing her, "How did you sleep?"
    She peered up at him through her thick lashes before answering, "Well. Thank you."
    They rode in silence for another half hour before Connor spoke again, "We'll stop here." He glanced at his captain, Dougal, who rode to his left, and they all pulled off to the edge of the trees. Beyond that, there was clearing where one could see where the three lochs met: Loch Alsh, Loch Duich, and Loch Long, with his castle on the northwestern island.
    Connor looked down sharply as he both heard and felt her gasp. There was a look of sheer delight on her face, and his lips turned up as he followed her gaze. She was staring at the loch, and the mountains that surrounded it. It pleased him that she found his lands beautiful. But it shouldn't. Connor's smile fell as he reminded himself that his duty was to his clan. He didn't have time for distractions, and this Miss Stewart was unequivocally a distraction.
    His voice was sharp as he told her, "Take a moment, Miss Stewart, tend to your needs, but be quick about it. Doona take too long, or I might think you've run off; I'd rather not chase you down."
    Connor leaped down from his horse, and raised his hands to her waist to pull her down. He slipped the plaid from around her shoulders, wrapping it quickly around himself. Her scent was overpowering. If she noticed the internal battle, the 42
    way his hands wanted to stay against the smooth skin of her neck, she didn't show it. His hands lingered at her hips, but she broke the contact by storming off in a huff. The lass has spirit , Connor thought. Verily, she'll need it .
Mackenzie felt so cozy and snug that she almost didn't want to open her eyes. But she did, and as she woke up her first thought was, Wow, it really all was a dream, a really elaborate strange dream. She sighed, at least she hadn't had her nightmare again. And then reality set in. She felt the very real horse beneath her, and the strong and very real arm around