Beyond the Highland Myst(349)

"Then why did you test me?" he asked quietly.

"I need something to prove it," she said. "I can't just go on blind faith."

"Nay," he agreed. "You doona seem to be a woman who could."

"Well, you had proof," she countered, then added hastily, "of course, pretending that what you claim is true. You saw cars, the village, my phone, my clothing."

He gestured at his attire, his sword, and shrugged.

"That could be a costume."

"What would you consider sufficient proof?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know," she admitted.

"I can prove it to you at the stones," he finally said. "Beyond any doubt, I can prove it to you there."

"How?"

He shook his head. "You must come and see."

"You think your ancestors might have some record of you, a portrait or something?" she guessed.

"Gwen, you must decide whether I am mad or I am telling the truth. I cannot prove it to you until we reach our destination. Once we reach Ban Drochaid, if you still doona believe me, there at the stones, when I have done what I can to offer you proof, I will ask nothing more of you. What have you to lose, Gwen Cassidy? Is your life so demanding and full that you cannot spare a man in need a few days of your time?"

He'd won. He could see it in her eyes.

She looked at him in silence for a long time. He met her gaze steadily, waiting. Finally she gave a tight nod. "I will make sure you get to your stones safely, but that doesn't mean for a minute that I believe you. I am curious to see what proof you can offer me that your incredible story is true, because if it is…" She trailed off and shook her head. "Suffice it to say, such proof would be worth hiking across the Highlands to see. But the moment you show me whatever it is you have to show me, if I still don't believe you, I'm done with you. Okay?"

"Okay?" he repeated. The word meant nothing to him in any language.

"Do you agree to our deal?" she clarified. "A deal you agree to honor fully," she stressed.

"Aye. The moment I show you the proof, if you still doona believe, you will be free of me. But you must promise to stay with me until you actually see the proof." Deep inside, Drustan winced, loathing the carefully phrased equivocation.

"I accept. But you will not chain me, and I must eat. And right now I am going for a short walk in the woods, and if you follow me it will make me very, very unhappy." She hopped down from the fallen tree trunk and skirted around him, giving him wide berth.

"As you wish, Gwen Cassidy."

She stooped and reached for her pack, but he moved swiftly and wrapped his hand around her wrist. "Nay. If you go, it stays with me."

"I need a few things," she hissed.

"You may take one item with you," he said, reluctant to interfere if she had womanly needs. Mayhap it was her time of the moon.

Angrily, she dug in the pack and withdrew two items. A bar of something and a bag. Defiantly, she stuffed the bar in the bag and said, "See? It's only one thing now." She turned abruptly and headed for the woods.

"I'm sorry, lass," he whispered when he was certain she was out of hearing range.

He had no choice but to make her his unwitting victim. Larger issues than his own life depended upon it.

* * * * *

Gwen hurriedly used the "facilities," anxiously scanning the forest around her, but it didn't appear that he had followed her. Still, she didn't trust a thing about her current situation. After relieving herself, she devoured the protein bar she'd grabbed. She rummaged through her cosmetics bag, flossed, then dabbed a touch of toothpaste to her tongue. The taste of mint boosted her flagging spirits. A swipe of a medicated pad over her nose, cheeks, and forehead nearly made her swoon with pleasure.

Sweaty and exhausted, she felt more alive than ever. She was beginning to fear for her own sanity, because there was a part of her that wanted to believe him, wanted desperately to experience something outside of her everything-can-be-explained-by-science existence. She wanted to believe in magic, in men who made her feel hot and weak-kneed, and in crazy things like spells.

Nature or nurture: Which was the determining factor? She'd been obsessing over that question lately. She knew what nurture had done to her. At twenty-five, she had a serious intimacy problem. Aching for a thing she couldn't name, and terrified of it at the same time.

But what was her nature? Was she truly brilliant and cold like her parents? She recalled all too well the time she'd been foolish enough to ask her father what love was. Love is an illusion clung to by the fiscally challenged, Gwen. It makes them feel life might be worth living. Choose your mate by IQ, ambition, and resources. Better yet, let us choose him for you. Already I have several suitable matches in mind.