Touch of Enchantment

  They mourned Chauncey's death, yet celebrated life in its most fundamental essence. They didn't just offer each other comfort, but an affirmation, unspeakably tender, unspeakably primal. Casting her inhibitions to the wind, Tabitha lowered her head and worshiped him with her mouth, delighting in the dark power and passion of the mysterious union. He tangled his hands in her hair and groaned her name as if it were his most fervent prayer.

  When his body trembled on the brink of explosion, he drew her lips to his and thrust his tongue in her mouth, kissing her as if he could go on forever. She rubbed her breasts against his chest with kittenish abandon, marveling because this magnificent man with his stubborn chin and golden tiger eyes was hers for the taking.

  Take him she did, slipping astride him with more grace than she'd ever exhibited in ballet class. Her entire body quivered with delight as his big hands framed her hips, driving her down until she contained the rigid length and breadth of him deep inside of her.

  This time there was no pain, only pleasure. A pleasure so poignant and intense it brought fresh tears to her eyes. But these tears were cleansing, and even as Colin kissed them away, she was beginning to move until everything melted to insignificance except the sinuous friction of their flesh.

  But Colin still remembered to reach between them, to stroke that tender bud above where their bodies were joined until shudder after shudder of exquisite rapture racked her.

  As his own roar of ecstasy echoed through the forest, she threw back her head in exultation. She, Tabitha Lennox, who had kept her training wheels on her bike until she was twelve, had dared to ride a dragon.

  When Tabitha awoke, she was lying stark naked on a bed of ferns. She shaded her eyes against the sun, trying to gauge how long she'd slept. Beads of rain still sparkled like diamonds on every leaf and blade of grass. She sat up and fumbled around for her discarded gown, feeling like some sort of wanton fairy enchanted by a mortal. She wryly shook her head, thinking the opposite must be true. No man with Colin's stamina could be completely mortal.

  She found her damp gown hanging on a nearby branch. She dragged it on, but it wasn't until her fingers brushed her breastbone that she remembered flinging the amulet into the mist. A pang of regret stabbed her.

  Worthless or not, the amulet might very well be the only heirloom she would ever receive from her mother.

  "I trust you enjoyed your nap?"

  She whirled around to find Colin emerging from the sun-dappled shadows of the forest. The suggestive quirk of his lips might not have made her heart beat faster if the memory of all the delicious things those lips had done to her hadn't been so fresh. With his tousled hair and bearded jaw, he looked extremely sexy. And dangerous. Especially since he was wiping blood from the blade of the sword in his hand with what used to be her slip.

  She knew she ought to be disturbed by the evidence of bloodshed, but instead felt a rush of savage satisfaction. "By any chance, did that blood once belong to Brisbane's man?"

  He sheathed the weapon, his expression grim. "Not Brisbane's man. MacDuff's."

  Frowning, Tabitha hugged back a shiver. "I don't understand. Why would MacDuff try to kill me?"

  Colin shrugged. "Perhaps because he suspected 'twas you I loved instead of his daughter."

  The hush within Tabitha was so quiet, even the birds seemed to stop singing. "What did you say?"

  Colin's lips curved in that tender half smile she could never resist. "I love you."

  Horrified, she clapped a hand over his mouth. "Don't say that. Please don't say that." She freed his mouth and backed away from him, wringing her hands. "Oh, dear Lord, what have I done now?"

  He eyed her askance, thoroughly bemused by her odd behavior. "Why are you so distressed, lass? You've done naught but win my heart."

  "Steal it, more likely!" She paced around him in a frantic circle. "Don't you realize what I've done? I must have been talking in my sleep. I've wished you would love me almost from the first moment I saw you, but I never spoke the words out loud, I swear it." She paused long enough to check his brow for fever. "Oh, you poor thing. I'm so sorry."

  Colin laughed aloud. "Contrary to what you may believe, my lady, you've cast no spell upon me. At least not the kind you think."

  "Why, of course I have. Oh, no," she muttered. "What if you start acting like Brent Vondervan did in the fourth grade when my mother cast a love spell on him? I guess you can't offer me peanut butter sandwiches from your lunch box, but you might stop bossing me around and being grumpy and growling at me." She shuddered. "I won't be able to stand it if you're polite."

  He caught her by the wrist, stilling her aimless flight, and forced her to look at him. "Is it truly so inconceivable that I would love you?"

  She nodded. "I'm shy and clumsy and always blurt out the wrong thing in social situations. I babble when I'm nervous. I hog the blankets because I've always slept alone. I eat too much ice cream when I'm depressed. And when I'm PMS, I'm a real witch." She grimaced. "Well, really cranky anyway. I hate to exercise and I never remember to screw the lid back on the toothpaste tube after I brush." He still didn't look convinced so she added, "And I'm entirely too tall." She swallowed, finding it more and more difficult to squeeze words past the lump in her throat. "How could you love me?"

  He framed her face between his hands, searching her features as if to etch them upon his memory. His soft chuckle was belied by the somber glow in his eyes. "How could I not?"

  "Oh…" The sigh escaped her on a breath of pure happiness, but Colin was there to capture it with his tips.

  "Tabitha?" he murmured between kisses.

  "Yes," she whispered, clinging to his brawny shoulders to keep from melting all over him.

  "Who is this Brent fellow? And what is a peanut sandwitch? And a psychodontist and an orthotherapist? Why would one want to service a room and who in God's name taught you that atrocious song you sang last night – the one that made you sound like you were braying through your nose?"

  Tabitha drew back to look at him, realizing the time of reckoning had come. "You've been much more attentive than I realized."

  He nodded. "I don't understand much of what you say, but I do remember it."

  She reluctantly extracted herself from his arms and gestured to a fallen log. "Maybe you should sit down."

  He obliged her, eyeing her somewhat warily. Tabitha paced the clearing, trying to find the best way to begin. Her mother had always taught her that if she ever got lost, she should go back to the place where she had last seen herself.

  So she did.

  She took Colin back to that snowy New York night when she'd accidentally wandered so far from home. Although too nervous to meet his gaze directly, she would steal a glance at him every now and then to find him listening intently to her rambling tale, his face carefully blank. She suspected she'd had that precise look on her own face when she'd viewed her mother's video and first learned of the amulet's existence. He even managed a polite nod at pivotal points in her story.

  "So you see," she finished, smiling brightly at him, "my so-called 'supernatural' powers are probably nothing more than the result of a hyperdeveloped sense or a mutated gene. The amulet was nothing more than a positronic conduit designed to enhance them. Doesn't that make you feel better?"

  He sat in silence for so long that Tabitha started to fidget. Then he dragged a hand through his hair, rumpling it beyond repair. "Indeed, my lady, you've truly set my heart at ease. I'm not in love with a witch. I'm in love with a lunatic."

  She blinked hopefully at him. "Is one more socially acceptable than the other?"

  He rose and began to pace in the opposite direction. " Tis not a matter of acceptance, but of convenience. Witches must be burned at the stake. I can just lock you away in a convent with all the other madwomen."

  She shook her head in dismay. "I was afraid you'd take this badly. That's why I didn't tell you sooner."

  He spun around on his heel to gape at her. "Badly?" His voice rose to a roar.
"Badly? You tell me you've journeyed to this place from seven hundred years in the future – "

  "Seven hundred and sixty-six," she gently corrected.

  His glare could have scorched grass. " – seven hundred and sixty-six years in the future and just expect me to believe such an absurd tale."

  "Brent Vondervan was a boy I had a crush on in the fourth grade. A sandwich is a hunk of meat positioned between two pieces of sliced bread. A psychotherapist offers counseling services for mental or emotional disturbances. An orthodontist uses a variety of plastic and metal appliances to straighten crooked teeth. Room service is how you order food in an expensive hotel. The atrocious song was 'Your Cheatin' Heart,' written and recorded by Mr. Hank Williams, Sr. in Nashville, Tennessee, in 1953 and you're supposed to sing it through your nose or it wouldn't sound like authentic country music."

  Colin sat down on the log again, so hard he almost tumbled off the other side. " Tis true, is it not?" he said hoarsely. "You're not of this time, but of another. You do not belong here."

  Tabitha had never expected him to look so stricken. She knelt between his knees, resting her hands on his thighs, and gazed tenderly up at him. "I belong wherever you are."

  "But your parents…? If they're still alive, they must feel you belong with them."

  She lowered her eyes, disquieted by his concern. "My mother's a hopeless romantic. If she were here at this moment, I'm sure she would tell me to follow my heart, even if it led me away from her."

  "And your father?"

  She laughed. "He'd probably punch you in the nose. He still tends to think of me as Daddy's little girl."

  "He sounds like a fine man." Colin tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Will you be able to live with the uncertainty? With never knowing if they're somewhere in the future missing you, mourning you as you might have mourned them if they had never been found?"

  The answer didn't come as readily to her lips as she had hoped, but fortunately Colin was distracted by the thunder of approaching hoofbeats. As the horse slowed to a walk, passing dangerously close to their hiding place, they scrambled behind a gnarled oak, fearing they were being stalked by another of MacDuff's assassins. Colin gripped the hilt of his sword, but the tension in his arm relaxed when a melodious feminine voice was followed by a sardonic Gallic growl.

  "If you had taken the right fork as I suggested instead of the left one, we could have been here an hour ago."

  "You're a worse nag than this wretched horse. Curb your saucy tongue, wench, or I'll curb it for you."

  "I'd like to see you try."

  Silence greeted this ominous challenge. Colin drew Tabitha toward a break in the bushes. "We'd best make sure they're not killing each other. As you well know, Arjon and Lyssandra have never borne any great fondness toward one another."

  Colin's jaw dropped as they emerged from the tunnel of bracken to find his best friend and his fiancee locked in a passionate embrace. A bored-looking horse stood a few feet away, lazily swishing his tail.

  Tabitha nudged Colin. "Just think what they might be doing if they were fond of each other."

  At the sound of her voice, Arjon and Lyssandra broke away from their kiss with a guilty start. Lyssandra's creamy cheeks were flushed with rose, her eyes luminous. Tabitha knew the look only too well. Her own face had probably mirrored it only minutes before. She bit back a smile as she noted the way Lyssandra squared her delicate chin and boldly met their gazes, the way Arjon's arm moved to shield his lady fair.

  "Ah, here's your betrothed now," he said. "You may challenge me to a joust if you wish, Ravenshaw, but I must have her."

  Edging even closer to Arjon, Lyssandra blinked prettily at Colin, who still hadn't recovered from his daze. " Twas never my intention to break your heart, sir. But now that I've finally found my true love, I can only pray that you'll find the courage to press on."

  Arjon narrowed his eyes at his friend, struggling to send a frantic message, but Colin was not receiving. He might have stood frozen there forever with his mouth hanging open if Tabitha hadn't jabbed him in the side.

  He coughed, then cleared his throat as if to strangle back a disbelieving laugh. Only Tabitha was near enough to see the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. " 'Twill be a lonely struggle, lass, but I suppose my shattered heart will mend. In time. Lots of time," he added gruffly. He strode across the clearing and pumped Arjon's hand.

  "Congratulations, my friend. You've won one of the fairest hearts in all of Scotland." Arjon grimaced as he gave the bones an extra squeeze. "If you ever break it, you'll answer to me."

  The Norman snatched his hand back and clapped it over his own heart. "Have no fear! My heartbreaking days are over. I never realized it until I held her squirming in my arms while she tried to bite me and I had to kiss her to muffle her shrieks, but I was only biding my time until the brat grew into a woman."

  Lyssandra fluttered her eyelashes at him. "All the woman you'll ever need."

  "My precise sentiments," replied Arjon, all but cooing.

  Tabitha rolled her eyes. "I thought the two of you despised each other."

  "What choice did I have?" Arjon asked. "I might have yearned for Lyssa in my most secret heart, but I knew she belonged to Colin and could never be mine."

  "So he labored diligently to make me hate him – putting spiders in my bed, using my dolls for archery practice, calling me dreadful names."

  Arjon pressed a fervent kiss to her knuckles. "Consider them endearments, my adorable little shrew."

  It was Colin's turn to roll his eyes. "What are the two of you doing out here?"

  "Looking for you," Arjon replied. He exchanged a glance with Lyssandra. "It seems Brisbane and the MacDuff are in league. They have been for quite some time."

  Colin's face went deathly still. "How long?"

  There was no way for Arjon to soften the blow. "Since before the siege. Lyssa overheard her father and Brisbane's man discussing their plans to be rid of you and divide your holdings among themselves. The MacDuff had already signed a betrothal contract, giving Lyssa into Roger's hands."

  Lyssandra placed her hand on Colin's arm. "I knew naught of his treachery, Colin, I swear it. I pray you'll believe me."

  Tabitha had never loved him more than she did at that moment when he gently covered Lyssandra's hand with his own, even managing a strained smile. "Of course, I believe you. 'Tis you who were wronged even more than I. Your father's betrayal must have cut you to the heart."

  She nodded, brushing a tear from her cheek. "He said the most vile things."

  Arjon gathered her into his arms, the tenderness in his touch assuring Tabitha that his conversion to monogamy was sincere. "If I hadn't intercepted her in the corridor outside her father's solar, the foolhardy lass would have ridden out all by herself to warn you about the MacDuff's assassins."

  Tabitha glanced nervously around, every shadow suddenly a menace. "How many are there?"

  Arjon rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, his grin cold. "Three less than there were before."

  "Make it four," Colin said.

  Arjon frowned. "We sent Chauncey this way on Lyssandra's steed. Have you seen him?"

  Colin nodded grimly. "Seen him and buried him. He took an arrow meant for Tabitha."

  They shared a moment of somber silence mourning the courageous boy before Lyssandra turned her puzzled gaze on Tabitha. "Brisbane's man said his master wanted you alive. He seemed very distressed when my father informed him that you were also to die. 'Twas almost as if he feared for his own life if he failed to bring you back."

  Tabitha exchanged a troubled look with Colin. Brisbane's personal attention was certainly not something she cared to attract. "Do you think he might suspect…?"

  Colin nodded. " 'Tis a possibility. Roger always was a canny wretch."

  He strode to the edge of the clearing and stood with his back to them, hands on hips. Tabitha ached to go to him, but knew he needed some room to absorb all that he'd learned in so sho
rt a time.

  Arjon was not as comfortable with Colin's brooding silence as she was. "If you're resolved to go after Brisbane, I think it's safe to venture we can no longer rely on the MacDuff for reinforcements."

  Colin swung around to face him. "You should take Lyssa and go before the MacDuff realizes you're gone. As far away from here as you dare. This is not your fight."

  Arjon grinned. "You know I never could resist a lost cause. How do you think I ended up on Crusade?" He sobered. "If it's your fight, my friend, 'tis mine as well."

  "And mine," Lyssandra added, stepping forward.

  Colin surveyed them for a long moment before nodding. "This cause may not be as lost as you think. I have one weapon Brisbane can never match."

  Tabitha stood rooted to the forest floor as Colin approached. He reached into his tunic and unfurled a delicate chain he'd obviously made a painstaking effort to find and repair while she was napping. She was less mesmerized by the emerald's gleam than by the tender glow in his eyes as he lowered the chain over her head until the amulet came to rest against her heart.

  Arjon arched a skeptical eyebrow. "And what would that weapon be?"

  Colin grazed her cheek with a kiss as he turned her to face them. "The most beautiful witch in all of Christendom."

  Chapter 25

  When Colin and Tabitha came riding into the courtyard at Castle Raven, they were greeted by stunned silence and disbelieving stares. As if the shock of their laird having his arm firmly around the waist of a confessed witch he'd vowed to burn wasn't enough, Colin's betrothed rode on the horse behind them, practically perched in Sir Arjon's lap.

  His people stood frozen in dumb astonishment until Jenny squirmed out of her mother's grip and came pelting across the cobblestones. "Lady Tabby! Lady Tabby!" Tabitha slid off the horse just as the little girl flung herself into her arms. "See, Mama," she said, beaming as she pressed her cheek to Tabitha's, "I told you the nice witch would come back!"