A loud knock stirred Kara from her nap. The crying jag had zapped her energy and she’d fallen asleep. Her visitor pounded again. “Coming,” she said scrambling up.
Heaving open the door, which felt ten times heavier today, she found Alaxandar waiting, his sexy mouth in a tight line. Exotic blue eyes studied her face. It took all her concentration to suck air into her lungs and push it out again.
He touched her, stroked her hair, caressed her cheek. “Are ye hurt?” He traced the track of tears down her face.
“It’s nothing.” Kara moved into the room away from his touch. “I’ll be fine.”
“What were ye thinking tae attack an armed Scotsman wi’ a stick?”
His tone baited her temper. She frowned. “I thought to help keep those people from being murdered.”
“With a stick?”
She limped toward Alaxandar. “Yeah, a stick. It’s all I had.”
He grabbed her arms and shook her. “He would have sliced ye in half had we not gotten word and come tae stop them.”
“Maybe, but we’ll never know since you got there in time. Let me go.”
He released her. She raised her chin, daring him to say something. When he didn’t, she stalked away. She went to the wash basin to wet a rag and clean her face. Her nerves were on edge. In the makeshift mirror, she noticed her eyes were swollen and red.
“It be time for the meal. Are ye hungry?”
“I guess I am, a little.” Kara ran her fingers through her tousled hair.
He approached quietly then adjusted her blouse on her shoulders. Running his hand down her back, his fingertips traced the outline of her undergarment.
She stilled. “What are you doing?”
His gaze met hers in the small looking glass. “I have never seen a thing such as this. What is it?”
The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin shirt. His smoldering eyes held her captive. Without thinking she said, “It’s a bra. Women of my time wear them every day.”
“Your time?” He stepped back, removing his hands, almost as though he was afraid to touch her.
Her eyes widened. Although she hadn’t seen or heard Alaxandar partake in the conversations about how she came to be here, and her sudden appearance, that didn’t mean he hadn’t. If he didn’t believe her to be a witch before, he would now. She’d opened her mouth without thinking and put her foot in it. “I’m starving. Did you say dinner was ready?” Kara headed straight out the door without glancing back.
Alaxandar strolled after her. “Ye may have changed the subject, Kara, but I dunna give up easily.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
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Highland Stone (The Talisman Trilogy Book 1) by Sloan McBride
A mysterious inheritance and magical forces thrust Kara Malone through the ages to the Scottish Highlands of old. There she encounters Alaxandar McLeod, the dark stranger who inhabits her dreams.
Alaxandar leads the charge to learn the truth about the violent raids against his clan. When his horse almost tramples a beautiful stranger, he is beguiled but skeptical. Is she a spy, or worse, a witch come to lure him with her body and distract him from his quest?
With his clan ever leery of Kara’s presence, and the raids intensifying, Alaxandar must decide what is right for his family and his heart. Will Kara choose to stay with the stranger from her dreams made flesh, or the mission she vowed to complete?