Page 7 of Laird Of Her Heart

Ewan scrubbed at his beard. “She looks like an elf.”

“More like a fairy,” Tavish said.

“Bean-Nighe more like.” This, from Harry.

Declan gave a growl. “She’s no’ Bean-Nighe, fairy nor elf. She’s a spy.” He turned to Dominic and glowered. “We should run her through.”

Dominic didn’t know why the prospect set up such a churn in his belly.

“Before we run her through, we should fook her.”

He whirled on Tavish, who reared back at the ferocity of his scowl. Dominic had no idea why he scowled, but the prospect of this lot fooking her made him want to rip someone limb from limb. Possibly Tavish.

His cousin blinked. “Well?” He waved at the girl. “She is a comely lass.”

“She’s a spy,” Declan spat.

Dominic attempted to calm his thudding pulse. “What makes you think she’s a spy?”

“She’s wearing the Cameron blue.”

He scrubbed his face with a palm. “If she were a spy, do ye’ think she would proclaim her loyalties so?” Would she be so conspicuous in it?

Ewan chuckled and shot a smirk at Declan. “That’s what she said.”

“No doubt that is what a spy would say, were she captured. We should run her through before she awakes.”

“We’re no’ running her through.”

Declan opened his mouth to protest, but Dominic cut him off with a slash of his hand.

“When she wakes up, we will question her. Try to discover who she is and what she’s doing on our lands. What did she say when you asked her?”

A red tide crept up his brother’s cheeks, confirming Dominic’s suspicion. “I dinna ask.”

“You dinna ask.”

“Nae.”

He turned to Ewan. “Take her to my tent and tie her securely. And Ewan?” he barked when his kinsman leaped forward to do his bidding, hauling the woman into his arms as though she were a ragdoll.

He paused and shot Dominic a curious glance. “Aye, laird?”

“Be gentle.”

For God’s sake. Be gentle.

* * *

When Maggie woke up, she was in a musty old tent. There was a rickety table and two chairs on the far side, but the bed was little more than a pallet, a pile of furs on the ground. It took a moment for her to remember what had happened. It took longer for her to accept it.

Even though she was here, living it, breathing it, it was inconceivable that she had traveled through time and space to him. As though drawn to him like filings to a magnet.

Or something.

She decided to try and be logical about it, or as logical as she could be. She sat up and looked around, taking stock of the period clothing tossed on a trunk, the weave of the tent material and the leather bindings that held it to the poles. There was no doubt she wasn’t in Kansas anymore—or Seattle—but it was the fact that he was here that really made her head spin.

And gawd. He was even hotter in person.