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she felt the hard length of his desire. He drew her hips closer, his hungry mouth moving over her skin.
    She couldn’t catch her breath, her pulse racing. Tonight could be their last night together. Once he left Glen Arrin, she might lose him.
    â€˜I love you,’ she whispered, her arms twining around his neck.
    He lowered her down to the soft grass and she saw the moment when he regained control of his thoughts. Though his breathing was as staggered as her own, he rolled to his side, studying her.
    â€˜I want you to be my wife, Laren.’
    She tried not to let her feelings overshadow what needed to be said. Closing her eyes, she tried to find the right words.
    â€˜Not until you return.’ She wanted to believe that he would love her enough, but she didn’t want him to later hold regrets.
    â€˜Say you will,’ he urged again.
    She leaned up to kiss him, distracting him with the physical desire that burned between them. It was easier not to think of losing him when his arms were around her.
    â€˜You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted,’ she answered against his mouth. He took her mouth again, his hands moving over her shoulders, then he brought his palm over her breast.
    He let it rest there, waiting to see what she would do. Her nipple rose with a fevered arousal and she felt an answering rush between her legs. She knew, if she allowed it, he would become her lover this night.
    His thumb caressed the erect tip and she shifted her legs together at the aching sensation. Temptation warred with good sense and she captured his hand with hers.
    â€˜When you return,’ she whispered. She could not surrender her innocence to him, not when he might be forced to wed another.
    He sat up, leaning her body back against him. ‘I’ve brought you a gift to remember me by.’ In her palm, he pressed a small pouch.
    Laren unwrapped the leather and poured out a handful of glass droplets. Vivid blue, green and red mingled with white, in a jewelled handful.
    â€˜They’re beautiful,’ she breathed.
    â€˜Father Nolan made them. They reminded me of the treasures I’d give to you, if I could.’
    The cool glass warmed beneath her fingers and she held one up to examine it more closely. As she studied them, she wondered how they were made. She knew the priest used sand and fire, but no one dared to interrupt him while he was forging his magic.
    Alex kissed her again, holding her close. Though she desired him, she was afraid of what the future might hold.
    And, most of all, she feared losing him.

Chapter Three
    A bone-deep exhaustion settled within him. Every muscle in his body ached and Alex wanted nothing more than to find a place to sleep for the next fortnight. But he couldn’t.
    Despite working since sunrise, they’d done little more than clear away the wreckage. The mood within Glen Arrin was unsettled, for they were exposed, their weaknesses bared to any enemy who happened to draw near.
    He closed his eyes, knowing the violence would come. Robert Fitzroy, the Baron of Harkirk, had retreated after the last battle, but Alex had no doubt that the English baron was merely biding his time.
    The silence unnerved him more than any direct attack. He sensed, within his blood, that Harkirk would strike again. It was a matter of when, not if.
    The heaviness of the clan’s fate rested upon his shoulders and he could feel their doubts. He’d heard more than a few whispers today, questioning his leadership. But this was his clan. He would do whatever was necessary tokeep them safe, even if they were reduced to ashes and sackcloth.
    They were his people. His family.
    His brother Bram approached, his expression dark, as though he didn’t want to bear bad news. ‘I’ve heard talk of several men wanting to leave. They have family among the other clans.’
    â€˜I won’t let that happen.’ Alex adjusted the bandage on his arm, knowing that if a few