Alex rode—well, it was more like stalked—the length of the beach for hours, letting the task consume his morning just like he had yesterday, and the day before.
It’d been three days.
“Nothin’.” He shook his head, and the semi-warm breeze caressed his face, washing the fresh scent of the sea over his form. As calming as it normally was, now it just tore him up inside.
Gulls called to each other above, but he ignored the pesky birds and their screeches.
He’d failed to find even the smallest clue of the gorgeous petite blonde and her oversized guard. And he couldn’t employ his cousin Cormac’s help, because Duncan and the men were still gone, and would likely be so a fortnight or longer.
“Dammit.”
Bán nickered and tossed his head, either chiding him for his language or asserting that their feat was useless.
Which would you prefer?
It wasn’t like he didn’t have duties. At present, there was a pile of scrolls on his desk in the laird’s ledger room the steward had bid him to go over and declare yay or nay. They were to have a meeting that afternoon, and his side of things was supposed to be completed by then; decisions made.
Instead, he was wasting time on the beaches of Skye, and if Hamish went to his father to report his important request had gone unheeded, Alex would only worry Iain more. He risked a chiding as well, but his father couldn’t do more than that, really. He was laird now, after all.
However, he had no use for another conversation with his father where he did little more than grunt and nod. He’d barely survived the one from last night, when the retired laird had cornered him much like his sister had the evening he’d met Alana.
Alex was fine, but if he shouted as much, they’d peer at him in shock for speaking as such. Something like that was much more Duncan-like than something he’d do.
But was he really fine?
Doubt crowded his thoughts and pushed them around. He hadn’t been fine for days.
Since the moment he’d met her.
The tempting lass had haunted his dreams, leaving him restless and fatigued come daylight. He’d seen her naked. Touching him. Teasing him. Kissing him while she rode him.
“Perhaps I’ve gone mad,” he muttered.
He’d seen her once—and very much clothed. How could his mind conjure up such vivid images of someone he’d seen one time?
Very much without a single stitch of a garment.
Alex had woken hard and aching. Unfulfilled, since his hand’s skill paled in comparison to the nightly visions of a flaxen-haired sprite.
He rubbed his wrist and forearm, remembering the shock of energy when they’d touched. That small moment of their skin coming together preoccupied him as much as his dreams. He kept replaying the moment—the feeling—over and over.
“What am I doin’?”
Bán whinnied as if in answer and hoofed the loamy ground. Was his stallion asserting that he hadn’t a clue?
Aye, I don’t either.
And since when did Alex talk to himself so much?
“C’mon, laddie, let us hie ta Dunvegan.” He put his knees to his mount’s sides, feeling the powerful animal’s muscles ripple as he turned them around.
His horse had taken only a few steps when tingles of awareness coursed down his spine and he swallowed. He tugged Bán to a halt with a quick apology.
“Wait,” he whispered.
Don’t go home. Look again.
Alex didn’t stop to question his gut. He slid off the stallion’s back and whirled. Riding down the beach would be faster, but something was driving him forward on his own two feet. He left Bán where he was, with only one glance over his shoulder.
The horse had already made his way up the incline of the smaller cliff, and he was again grazing on the long sparse grass, as if telling him there was no hurry.
He chuckled and shook his head, increasing his speed to round the large rocks he’d first seen her by. His heart jumped and he skidded to a halt, kicking up sand and pebbles as soon as the ridge was visible unencumbered.
Alana sat up there with her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Her chin rested atop, as she leaned into herself, and her long pale mane played in the wind. She stared into the water. Didn’t notice him down on the beach.
She was a vision of platinum and purple, because this time her mantle matched her trews. The hood was down, and also flapped in the dancing gales.
As if he’d called her name, the gorgeous lass’ eyes found his, and he had to swallow. Twice.
She straightened and smiled, but it had a touch of sadness he didn’t like.
He wanted to demand what had upset her so he could slay it.
“Alex…”
His name was breathy on her lips and made his cock twitch. She’d said his name in his dreams in much the same manner, especially when she was rocking her naked body over his.
Alex fought a shudder and forced a smile. “Alana, are ye well, lass?” He framed his mouth so his voice would carry.
“Come sit with me?”
He obeyed without pause, scampering up the ridge like he and Duncan had done so many times as wee lads. Alex planted his behind next to her, and gave her a onceover.
She sat on the ground, not on a blanket or plaid as expected. Sorrow seemed to leak from her pores, despite the small curve of her luscious lips.
“Alana?”
Saying her name pulled her gaze from his bare legs, and he was again startled at the hue of her eyes. Gorgeous, and definitely more purple than blue.
“Are ye real?” The query tumbled out unbidden.
Her laughter washed over him like a caress, and he blew out a breath. His heart cantered, and it shouldn’t. It hadn’t taken that much energy to ascend the ridge.
“Aye, I’m real.”
“I’ve been lookin’ fer ye fer days…”
Alana swallowed, and he wanted to kiss her throat. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I shouldn’t have come then, and I most certainly shouldn’t be here now.”
“Why?”
Her gaze raked his face, and she lifted her hand, but when their eyes met, she dropped her arm.
Had she been about to touch him?
His insides wobbled. He wanted to assure her, she could touch him wherever and whenever she wanted.
“I…”
When she faltered, Alex reached for her hand.
Just like the first time they’d touched, energy shot upward, all the way into his biceps and shoulder. It didn’t hurt.
It made him yearn all over.
For more.
As if the small skin-to-skin contact hadn’t been innocent.
His manhood shifted and jumped as it became interested too. He’d be granite in moments if he didn’t shut his desire down.
But he didn’t want to. He wanted to explore it.
Push her down and touch her.
Taste her. Take her.
“What…happened?” Alex cleared his throat. The intensity didn’t make sense. He didn’t know this lass.
Her shoulders straightened. “So…you felt that?”
“Aye. What ‘tis tha meanin’?”
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t scare me.” With every word, Alana leaned closer, until their mouths were millimeters apart and their breaths mingled. She licked her bottom lip, a little pink arrow darting out to tempt him.
“Scare…ye?” Alex forced out, but his eyes were glued to her mouth. His own watered, and his need was a living thing about to consume him.
“Nay. Alex—”
He dipped down, covering her lips with his; swallowing whatever she’d been about to say. He groaned at first touch, but it melted away as she let him inside the warm recesses and rubbed her tongue against his.
Alex was lost, even more so when she gripped his leine with two small fists to haul him closer. He pulled her into his arms without breaking the seal of their kiss, and allowed Alana to slant deeper, taste him fuller.
How she’d taken such complete control should’ve registered, but her flavor burst, like wine and summer berries. So good he didn’t care who led.
She moaned against his lips and the vibration went straight to his cock. Tremors chased each other down his spine and heat settled low in his bollocks. He was so hard he throbbed. His body begged him to take her.
Alana pressed ever closer, until she snaked her arms around his neck and pushed his back to the ground. The gorgeous lass followed him down, lying on his chest and gripping his head while their kiss went on. She tunneled her fingers in his hair and he shivered; it was so perfect.
Alex held her just as tightly, barely aware of the smooth material of her mantle. His thoughts scattered when he felt the soft press of her breasts into his chest.
The lip-lock made its way into nips, licks and nibbles. He couldn’t get enough of her. He mapped her back and cupped her bottom as she started to rock against him.
Shame she hadn’t straddled him. She pushed her pelvis into his hip, and he wanted—no, needed—so much more. Moans and whimpers made his blood sing, and he squeezed her delectable rear end, encouraging her.
Alana slid her hand downward, teasing his abdominal muscles over the fabric of his leine, and it wasn’t enough.
He wanted her hands on his bare skin. They needed to get naked—
When she gripped his erection on the outside of his plaid, Alex reared back and cursed.
Their eyes locked, and he groaned at the flushed hue of her alabaster skin. She was pink to the tips of her ears, and he wanted to see if he could make every inch of her flesh that particular shade.
They panted in time with each other.
“Alex? Did I hurt you?” she breathed.
He blinked to clear his head. “Nay. Jus’…surprised me.”
“Oh.” Her blush deepened and she withdrew her hand.
Alex grabbed it and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. How could he tell her—and save her embarrassment—he’d never been with a lass so forward?
He’d never had a woman reach for him like that—been the one to initiate the intimate touch. Not that he minded. He wanted Alana to touch him where she would.
All over.
“Most Fae men prefer a lover that…that…knows where a man likes to be touched.”
He stilled. “Fae?”
Her gorgeous eyes widened until the whites showed. She slapped a hand over her mouth and sat up, breaking their physical contact.
She was bright red now, but it wasn’t from their shared passion. “Oh, Goddess!” The words were muffled behind her slender fingers.
Alex tilted his head. “Did ye say, ‘goddess’?”
Alana nodded slowly, dropping her arm, but her expression was filled with dread. She’d paled out, and her slender shoulders were shaking.
Protective instincts flared all over his body. He sat up, pulling her to him. He wrapped her in his arms and inhaled her sweet scent. It was like her taste, a mixture of heady wine and berries.
She didn’t fight him; only burrowed into his chest and hid her face against his neck. Still trembled, so he rubbed her back in long soothing strokes.
“Alana-lass, talk ta me. What yer sayin’ makes little sense.”
“I’m Fae. I…am…a princess.”
Alex blinked. Swallowed. Perhaps he was dreaming, after all.
Or the lass in his arms was mad.
“Say something,” she whispered, her warm breath tickling the skin under his chin.
“Fae?” was the only thing he could manage.
She met his eyes and grimaced. “Aye. I snuck to the Human Realm using the Faery Stones, and—”
“Tha…Human…Realm? Faery…Stones?” He’d heard of the Standing Stones before, were they the same thing?
Alana nodded, speaking normally, as if they discussed the weather. “The first time, I just wanted to see, well, here. Your world. But this time, I-I-I had to…see you.”
“Lass—”
She frowned. “Don’t look at me like that, Alex MacLeod. I’ve not lost my wits, nor am I mad. I speak true. I’m the Scottish Fae Princess, daughter of King Fillan, the King, and Queen Elysia, though my mother is dead now.” Grief passed over her expression briefly, but it was replaced with the haughtiness of her declaration.
She has the commanding tone well enough.
“Fae…”
Alana nodded. “Surely you’ve heard stories of the Faery Folk.”
“Oh, aye. Since I was a wee laddie.”
Her frown deepened, and she narrowed her eyes. “I’m not mad.”
“I believe ye.” Alex’s gut shouted that she spoke the truth—he didn’t stop to question why. He should examine that, but he couldn’t look away from her.
Astonishment darted across her gorgeous face and those vivid eyes. “You do?”
He nodded. “In my family—my clan—there’s a legend.”
“Go on…” She swallowed and lured him so he wanted to kiss her throat again. Her visage shouted caution, as if she wasn’t sure she could believe him.
“Some time ago, actually, a long time ago, hundreds a’ years, a Fae Princess married tha Laird MacLeod. There are some MacLeods tha’ believe…we are…part Fae.”
His da believed the clan legend with all his heart. Something Alex and his siblings had always scoffed at. Could it actually be true?
How could the Fae be real? They had no evidence.
There was one item his father claimed to be proof. A tattered scrap of formerly-fine material Iain kept under lock and key. It was called the Faery Flag, and came with a story about the Fae and wishes made upon it to save his clan. Legend had it, two wishes had been made and one remained, and that a Fae Princess would save them all.
Alex had believed that one even less than the Fae blood that supposedly ran through his veins.
‘Tis all nonsense. Right?
Alana gasped and blinked. “That might explain what happens when we touch.” She reached for his hand and he jumped. “Alex…are you afraid of me now?” She entwined their fingers as he shook his head.
“Nay, lass. I could ne’er be afraid of ye.” He drew their joined hands to her chin and tilted it up. “I’ve no idea why, but I feel as if I’ve known ye for years. I’m drawn ta ye, Alana.”
Her lovely face streaked the most adorable shade of pink.
He pressed his lips to each cheek, savoring the heat of her skin and craving more.
“I feel the same way.” This was another whisper, but her expression said she wanted to say more. However, she did not.
Her discomfort washed over him; he wanted to make her feel better. “Where’s yer guard?”
Alana averted her eyes, telling him he’d missed the mark. “I...left him. I didn’t exactly have permission to leave my rooms.”
“Ye snuck away?”
“Aye.”
His belly quivered when her enchanting orbs found his again.
“I just had to see you again,” she whispered.
Alex cupped her cheeks. “I’m glad. I had ta see ye again, as well.” He needed to taste her again, more than he needed his next breath.
He dipped down and took her mouth, but she was right there, kissing him with the same fervency as the first time, slipping her arms around his neck and squeezing him almost too tight.
She climbed onto his lap and they trembled against each other as he deepened the kiss, and settled his hands at her hips. Their tongues danced and dueled as they swapped control back and forth.
His cock was so hard, there was no doubt she could feel it.
Alana shifted against him, the soft pressure of her bottom only a tease of friction that wasn’t nearly enough.
He broke the seal of their mouths on a groan. “Alana, we need ta stop, before I canna. I’ve ne’er wanted a lass tha way I wan’ ye.”
She panted against his chest, her perfect breasts rising and following in a rhythm he couldn’t tear his eyes from. “I feel the same way. Never before have I wanted someone like I need you.”
Alex growled, he couldn’t help it. “Ye’ve had lovers?” Chiding himself didn’t stop the rage and jealousy swirling in his gut. Neither did the reminders that he didn’t know this lass, this supposed Fae Princess. His need for her was swift, demanding, and shocking in its concentration. He wanted her in his bed in the laird’s rooms, and he’d never let her leave.
The thought should’ve alarmed him, but it only burned yearning low in his gut.
“Yay…and nay.”
He’d expected her gaze to waver, but she met his eyes dead on.
“Meanin’?”
Alana slid her hand through his short hair, and then rested her palm against his cheek. “I’ve…” She cleared her throat and took a breath. Licked her kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve touched and kissed a man. I’ve been touched and kissed. I’ve never…had a man inside me.”
His heart tripped and his mouth went dry. “Yer innocent?”
The smile that lit her face made his gut quiver. “My maidenhead is intact, but I’m not naïve.” She laughed. “I’ve not been called innocent for many years.”
“Years? Yer barely grown.” Alex’s cock pulsed a disagreement. This was no child in his arms. She kissed with experience enough to tie him in knots and send him to oblivion.
He sucked back a growl, trying not to imagine her small hands on another man—especially an intimate touch she wasn’t afraid to make.
It bothered him much more than it should.
He shouldn’t care if she’d given herself to a dozen men, but even if it was just one, he more than merely cared.
It was wrong, if it wasn’t him.
Alex wanted to mark her; claim her.
Alana’s smile dimmed. “How old are you, Alex?”
“Two and twenty summers.”
She swallowed, and a shadow danced over her features. “Fae live much longer than humans. I…I was five and fifty on my last nameday.”
Air rushed from his lungs. “Ye dinna look more than eight and ten.”
Her laughter surrounded them, tickling like the wind. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’d like to think I look no older than you, though. I’m not a child, nor an old woman.”
God’s blood she wasn’t a child. And of course she wasn’t old. Age could explain her experience with men, as much as he didn’t like it. “Five and fifty?” Older than his father by a few years. He wouldn’t point it out, in case she’d take offense.
She nodded and cupped his cheeks. “I’m considered young by Fae standards. A ‘lass’, as you say. My father is over one hundred years old.”
He gulped. “One hundred?”
“Aye, and he has many more years left.”
Alex’s head spun with the unbelievable information. There was nothing but truth in her pretty eyes, even if logic told him she couldn’t be correct. “Then…”
“I will live much longer than you.” Alana looked so sad he tugged her back to him and kissed her forehead.
“‘Tis nothin’ tha’ matters.”
“It does matter. I—”
“What, lass?” he prompted when she trailed off.
She trembled in his arms again, then shook her head. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter because I shouldn’t be here.” She gently broke the circle of his embrace and climbed to her feet. Alana faced the sea without another word and silence descended.
His heart ached.
What could have her so sad?
He wanted to yank her to him and run back to Dunvegan with her in his arms.
Keep her forever.
Alex made it to his feet and brushed off the back of his plaid, but studied her beautiful profile. Her mantle rustled in the wind, and the waves crashed into the beach, but nothing took his focus off her.
She was dressed in purple from head to foot, although several different shades. Even her boots were a dark shade of the color.
“Why do ye keep sayin’ that, Alana?” he whispered. He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.
She whirled on him, and jumped, as if he’d startled her, like she’d forgotten he was there. “I have to go.”
“Nay. Why?”
“I have to, Alex. Now.” Her words shook and her expression was grief-stricken.
His stomach dipped to his toes. “When will I see ye again?”
Her eyes went misty, making their hue shine like amethyst, and he wanted to snatch her back into his arms and force that sorrow away. “I…I don’t know. I’m not sure you will.” A tear rolled down her creamy cheek.
Alex couldn’t help himself, he darted forward and cupped her face, thumbing it away. “Dinna cry, lass.”
“I…Alex…I…” Alana gripped his wrists and squeezed. “This trip…it was supposed to be goodbye. I didn’t even know if I’d see you, but I convinced myself I would.”
“And ye did.”
She nodded in his grip, and he wiped new tears away. “But… I cannot come back. I just…can’t. This has to be goodbye.”
His gut—or maybe it was his heart—rejected her words.
He didn’t shout, ‘nay!’ again, as he’d wanted. Alex dipped down and claimed her mouth like she’d claimed him.
Alana had branded him from their first kiss, or maybe it was their first touch, days ago.
She kissed him until he was hard and aching all over again, and she held his waist tightly, as if her grip could erase her words. Her tears mingled with the movement of their lips, and he could taste the salt, but it was sweet somehow, just like his princess.
“Then dinna go,” he breathed against her lips.
She whimpered and looked down. “I cannot stay. Goddess, I want to, but I cannot.”
His heart slid to his toes and his chest constricted like he’d run the length of the beach. Alex hurt all over his body. “I canna let ye go.” His voice was a croak.
“We don’t even know each other,” she whispered.
Somehow, even though it was the truth, it didn’t relieve the pressure in his lungs. “I know it.” He inhaled, trying to force air down. “But it dinna feel as if tha’ were so.”
Alana covered her mouth with her hand and nodded.
Each tear destroyed him a bit more than the one before.
“Goodbye, Alex,” she sobbed.
He didn’t get a chance to respond.
Alex blinked and she was gone.