Down the Rabbit Hole

He paused, placing a hand on her arm to halt her words. “I know not this name.”

For the space of a heartbeat, she couldn’t find her voice. Her entire being was concentrated on the flood of heat radiating from his touch to every part of her body.

She stepped back, away from the heat, and waited for her heart to settle.

“I work for them. I’m here to present their offer for”—she swept a hand to indicate the lovely view before them—“all of this.”

“They desire my gardens?”

She smiled. “And all that goes along with them. Your lodge. Your land. These glorious hills. The lake.”

“Aye. The land. The hills. The loch.” His smile was gone. “The Campbells have always wanted what is mine. ’Tis not for sale, at any price.”

“But . . .”

He was already several steps ahead of her. She moved quickly to match his pace.

He never once stopped to admire the lovely roses in full bloom or the birds fluttering their wings around the sculpture of a goddess in the center of a fountain. He strode straight and sure on the stone pathways between the hedgerows.

But as she struggled to keep up, Beth found herself enchanted by the view. The fragrance of roses hung heavy in the air. The sound of water flowing from the sculptured fountain was a balm to her troubled soul.

“I can understand why you would be loath to consider selling all this. Now that I’m here, I think it may be the loveliest place on earth.”

He stopped then, and though his frown remained, he allowed himself to look around, as though seeing it through her eyes.

His own eyes softened. “Aye. ’Tis a bonny place. We stand on hallowed ground.” He pointed to a small chapel across the garden and started toward it, with Beth trailing behind.

When they came to a fenced area, dotted with stone markers and sculpted angels, he paused. “My ancestors lie here. Those who died in battle, and those who mourned them. One day I’ll join them as well. Until then, I see it as my duty to nurture the land and the life they left in my care.”

Without thinking, Beth touched a hand to his. “I can’t think of a more peaceful place to spend eternity.”

He glanced at her small hand, and then up into her eyes with a fierce look that had her heart racing.

Before she could pull away, he closed both hands over hers. “Are you telling me a Campbell can understand what this place means to me?”

She swallowed. “Please don’t judge me by my name.”

“How else am I to judge you?”

“Judge me by my character. By my behavior. By the choices I make.” She ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips. “I’m more than a name.”

“As am I.”

She nodded and managed a small smile. “Maybe . . .” She sighed. “Maybe we could start over. I know I made a bad impression when I . . .”

He touched a finger to her mouth to stop her. Just the merest touch, but she felt the fire all the way to her toes.

“My lady Campbell . . .”

“Beth,” she corrected.

“Beth is not a name. I shall call you by your full name. Bethany.”

She was caught by surprise. “How did you guess? Most people think it’s Elizabeth.”

“Nay. It could only be Bethany.” He spoke the word in a harsh whisper. “For ’tis truly a bonny name.”

And then there were no words as he lowered his face to hers and kissed her full on the mouth.

An earthquake would have been less devastating than the kiss, which seemed to spin on and on, catching them both by complete surprise.

His arms came around her, drawing her against him, while his warm, firm lips moved over hers with a thoroughness that had her trembling.

She was so caught up in the moment, she found her arms around his neck, though she didn’t recall how they got there. And when his hair brushed the backs of her fingers, she absorbed a tingling sensation that raced through her veins.

When at last he lifted his head, he stared down into her eyes with a look that was devouring her. “Are you a witch then, Bethany Campbell? For I know of no other reason I should behave so boldly with a woman I’ve only just met.”

Though she knew her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide with surprise, she couldn’t look away. “I’m no witch, my lord.”

He reached out a big, rough palm to cup her cheek. His voice was husky with emotion. “Perhaps not, but I’m bewitched all the same.”

“I’m the one bewitched.” Her tone was low. Breathless. Troubled. “Ever since arriving here my world has turned upside down. Nothing is as it should be.”

“’Tis true for me, as well. You’ve brought a candle to my darkness.” He bent to brush a soft, butterfly kiss over her lips. “Now, my sweet, fair Bethany, you must leave me. This very moment. Before I do something that would shame us both.”

She stared mutely as the meaning of his harshly whispered words sank in. She caught up the hem of her gown and turned away.

She knew she was taking the coward’s way when she ran as fast as she could from the garden.

And all the while she could feel the heat of his gaze fixed on her as she made her escape.

CHAPTER FOUR