Page 127 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Alec let his gaze flick to the men standing a ways back from him and Saraid, their hands folded patiently in front of them.

Without threat.

He lowered his blade and shook his head. “I dinna know what ye’re talking about.”

Though he hadn’t turned to see, he could sense Celia behind him. Their energy linked them like a low hum. If only he could get her to leave, if only he could convince her.

But he knew now that was impossible.

“Those women.” Saraid pointed a sharp finger toward the trees. “I asked them all to make me a simple potion and every one of them failed.” Her face scrunched and she gripped her stomach with a grunt.

“Are ye well?” he asked.

She swallowed thickly and straightened. “They failed me,” she repeated. “And so I had my da put them in the dungeon and kill a few for good measure.”

The woman was addled. Alec had never seen her act so strangely. Though he was unsure of her goal, he knew every second he kept her talking was another second the freed women had to escape.

“Why would ye need a potion?” he pressed.

Saraid blinked slowly, the left lid closing and opening before the right. “For ye.”

If he was confused before, he was genuinely lost now.

“Me?”

Her brows pursed together and her eyes took on a pleading look that made her look as if she were a little girl again. “For ye. So ye’d love me.”

She stepped closer and put her hands on his chest in a gesture that felt clumsy and awkward. “Ye’re the only man who doesna want me, Alec. Even when my da tried to bribe ye with help against the outlaws ye dinna want me.”

The rage swept through him again. “Those werena outlaws,” he said through gritted teeth.

Her shoulder sagged. “I know. He wanted yer land for its wealth and he wanted to pursue his witch hunt on yer lands. Yer da wouldna let any other laird step on his lands without promising to wage war. Then I wanted ye and he decided on an alliance instead. But ye took so long to decide…”

Hurt showed in her glassy eyes.

“So he kept attacking to lure me into marriage with ye,” Alec surmised.

“I want ye so badly.” A little smile curved her lips. “I made my own potion, ye know. From the bag yer witch had.”

“What?” Celia spoke up behind Alec and his body flinched to attention again.

Frustration pounded in Alec’s temples. Why did she have to stay? Why the hell hadn’t she fled?

His heart winced around the truth—she loved him too much.

Saraid started to peer around Alec, but he clasped her shoulder with his free hand. “What did ye take?”

“I learned things from those other witches. Everyone eventually talks,” she smirked. “That whore behind ye is the only one worth a lick of real skill.” Her eyes went wide and excitement glittered in her gaze, a strange combination with the way her slick skin glowed in the moonlight. “She brought a babe to life,” Saraid whispered. “Did ye know that?”

Sweat from the palms of her hot hands seeped through his leine and left the fabric wet. She tilted her face toward his. Her breathing came labored and uneven, tainted with a sickly sweet something.

“Do ye want me now?” she asked.

He stared down, uncertain what to say.

She looked sad—childlike with hope and altogether desperate.

If he agreed, would that afford him enough time to save Celia?