Highlander of Mine Read Online Free

she had a sudden petrifying thought. She shook her head and glanced around the cave. “Oh, no.” She scrambled to a large gray limestone rock. On her knees she felt the ground, searching for something.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Oh, God. Oh, no.” She kept looking around the sand and wall of the cave. “It’s gone.” She looked down at her left wrist. “It’s all gone.” That’s when her gaze shot out of the cave, and she sprinted out on the beach, the sun drenching her, illuminating her with golden sparks off her dark hair.
    Duncan followed, wondering what she’d lost, when he spied her turning in a circle, taking in the road and all around the cave. Her eyes were huge, and she kept swallowing.
    He didn’t think, yet again. But reached out for her, taking one of her hands in his. “What can I do?”
    She looked down at his scarred hand. Her own was delicate with extra long, thin fingers. Her hand was so elegant he thought to release it, scared it would be similar to porcelain, and he would be the bull that would break it. But then she clutched at him.
    “The houses...the houses have sod roofs. What’s that smell?”
    “Peat moss smoke,” Duncan said, aware that many strangers, and she was obviously not from here, weren’t used to the sweet smoky odor, but liked it nonetheless.
    “Why didn’t I smell it earlier?” She inhaled sharply, her dark gaze running in every direction. “Oh, God. Where am I?” Her black eyes glistened with panic.
    He tilted his head toward the cavern. “Cave Smoo.”
    Her other hand fluttered to her chest, hovering over her heart as if protecting her. She nodded, but kept spanning the horizon. Now he really started to worry. Didn’t she know where she was?
    She took a shaky breath. “This doesn’t look like what I know. It doesn’t look like what I just saw. This looks...looks like it must have in the past. A long time ago. Like—like a painting of what Durness might have looked like hundreds of years...What—what year is this?”
    He’d heard the tales, and there were many, of a lost woman who hurtled through time and ended, well, usually it was the Isle of Skye or another island. Not in a cave. Besides, those were stories grandmothers told their grandchildren to charm active bairns to sleep.
    She couldn’t be from another time.
    But why was she so confused? Why didn’t she know the year? Then again, she might be touched in the head.
    “The year is 1653, my lady. As it’s been for the last nine months.” He didn’t know why he tacked on the title, but it seemed somehow fitting. He also didn’t know why he’d added the patronizing last bit about it being nine months within the year. He knew he could be a bastard, but he didn’t want her to know.
    She made an odd strangled noise and glanced at the lads running toward them. Suddenly, she stepped into him, letting his larger body protect her from view. That’s when he smelled her. Divine. Sweet. Floral. And the perfume went straight through his chest, stomach, then dropped to his groin.
    She glanced up, her eyes so round and wide. “I—I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don’t know where I am. I mean, I do. I know this is Cave Smoo, and over there is Durness. And I was staying in Tongue, but—but nothing looks familiar. Check my face, make sure that both sides of my lips are even. If not, I’m having a stroke. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I—what year did you say it was? That can’t be. It just can’t be.”
    He placed both his hands around her arms calmly. He wanted to pull her to him in a firm embrace, but he didn’t think that would assuage her fear. Looking in her eyes, he said, “I’ll help. I believe you. We’ll sort this out.”
    She swallowed, her eyes softening yet focusing more on his.
    “Your face is even and so beautiful.” He grimaced.
    She blinked.
    He decided to trudge on. “I’ll help. I promise.”
    The noise of the coming men distracted her. She gazed around him,