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time he asked me to marry him and then ran off.
I m glad, Alex mumbled, oblivious to her attempt to derive a bit of sympathy
from that once pathetic situation. I mean, otherwise ye would no have found me.
Her lids drifted shut. Yes, she thought. So true. But she didn t say anything out
loud.
Do ye know me well enough to love me? I mean, truly. Can it happen this fast?
I only ask because I m new at this.
Yes. Love can hit like a rock through your skull. She smiled. That s exactly
what she had wanted to do when she had first met him.
Ye should have been a poet, Ceitag. A song writer at the verra least. He started
picking through her hair, like a grooming monkey.
What are you doing?
Lookin for the hole the rock made. But I dinna see one.
Alex, are you going to chatter away all night? If so, we might as well go back
downstairs.
LOVE NOT FORGOTTEN Ellen Ashe 98
I canna help it, Ceitag. I have to know these things.
The flame spluttered. Kate swept a glance around the dark corners of the room,
but nothing stirred. Pacified, she settled back against her warm, breathing blanket. The
rocking motion began to sedate her again. Just as she was thinking how amazing it was
that she had been so frightened earlier and now she was on the verge of drifting off,
when& .
Ceitag?
Her whole body flinched. Eyes owl wide, she propped up on one elbow and
glared at the handsome man beside her. Ailigean.
What? Why did ye say my name like that? He looked genuinely baffled.
Why did we come up here? she asked sternly.
Did ye forget already?
No. I didn t. But I was wondering if maybe you forgot. I was nearly asleep,
believe it or not, twice. And you woke me up with your talking.
Oh. It s working then. I mean, me soothing your frayed nerves. He stifled a
smile by running his finger under his nose, twitching it like a rabbit. Tell me once more
ye love me, and I ll be quiet.
Once more, I love you.
And as she finally drifted off to sleep her last memory was that both arms had
surrounded her with a most marvelous and & comfortable feeling
Life and happiness lie here together, side by side. Comfort. Love.
I have ne er felt like this before. Behind the words, a heart. Abject helplessness
within his arms. No other way. Path of desire. Dougal .
His touch. Hand on breast; lips against neck; breath in hair. Natural passion.
Hers. His.
Movement within her body. The child. Hears his father s voice, feels his touch.
Desire is overwhelming. Want to feel him, on me, around me, in me. My love.
No, Dougal. Hold me close but think o the child.
Bravery. Loyalty. Not just here. Not just one family but another family. A clan.
Duty. Obligation.
No! Panic . Pleading. Don t go. Stay here. I need ye. Dinna go.
Utterly alone. Nothing. Voices. Shouting. Pain. Every single moment, over and
over, pictured in the mind. Fire. Smoke. And being wrenched away.
Trick. Revenge. Death. Then the blood in the snow. Obliterated. Her heart was
gone to him. Their souls united except she still breathed.
The child. His baby is coming now. Too soon. Must protect the child.
Her physical presence gone. Without him, it does not matter. Stand alone. Wait.
He will come. He promised death would not stop him.
I believe. Believe.
Love. I m lost. Dark. Cold. Help me.
The tears being swept away by her own hand woke her. Kate blinked in twilight
and overwhelmed with the sadness of her dream, turned to find comfort from Alex.
Alex? The space beside her was empty. Not only that, it was cold. The candle
had been blown out, or died out, ages ago. She started to sit up. I must have slept well,
despite the& . Who was she talking to? Someone was standing at the window. Who?
LOVE NOT FORGOTTEN Ellen Ashe 99
The huge frame blocked most of the twilight, standing sentinel, refusing
permission, guarding, watching something or someone outside in the garden. Quiescent.
The broad shoulders and back motionless, transmitting a signal of the unnatural. Inside
and out. But not him. He had to be there.
Alex? Kate whispered. The name echoed across the room and then was sucked
into nothingness.
Colors dull except for a hint of red in the kilt. Material shimmered despite its lack
of movement. Heavy pleats, and a cape--no, a sash, thrown over his shoulder, mostly
hidden by a massive cascade of black ringlets that fell straight down his back. The arms
were bare. White flesh against the material, the darkness, the sorrow. One hand gripped
a sword. The gold handle of a long, thin, silver sword. Frozen, like a photograph. But
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