She grabbed the front of his plaid. “Do you even know what you’re looking for? Or where?”

“Mary thinks she’s found Cùram’s lair. And I’m guessing his tree will be nearby. I’ll head out first thing in the morning.” His hands on her shoulders tightened. “And you will wait here.”

Ian walked into the hut with his arm wrapped around Gwyneth and Caitlin’s arm wrapped around him. Niall followed, carrying the baby and towing the little girl by the hand. Catherine moved away from Robbie, picked up her stool, carried it to the corner, and sat down out of the way. Not that it did her any good. Caitlin and Gwyneth rushed over, took her by the hands, and led her behind a blanket hanging from the ceiling that was hiding a tiny cot.

Catherine didn’t have a clue what they were saying to her, but before she knew what was happening, they had her stripped naked and started redressing her in beautiful, colorful clothes that Gwyneth pulled from a trunk at the foot of the bed.

From that point on, she had no time to dwell on Robbie’s dictate or what she intended to do about it or even what in heck she was eating. The entire village came by in groups of two to ten people at a time to welcome Ian home. Everyone brought food, and Catherine was urged to try some of this and some of that. By nightfall, she was stifling yawns and starting to feel sick to her stomach.

Again, her guardian angel rescued her by taking her for a walk through the village and up past the keep in the bright spring moonlight. But instead of bringing her back to Ian once her stomach settled down, he took her inside the huge granite castle through a door big enough to fit the Jolly Green Giant.

“Niall lives here now,” he told her as he led her into a massive, high-ceilinged, sparsely furnished great room, past several gawking people, and up a narrow staircase. “He’s offered us a room for as long as we need it.”

Catherine stopped walking. “Us?”

Robbie pulled her forward again, down the narrow hall. “You’re dreaming all this, remember?”

He opened a small wooden door and led her into a dark, chilly room, let go of her wrist, walked to a huge hearth, and crouched down and started a fire. Catherine didn’t watch to seehow he started it but stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, looking around in the stingy firelight.

She spotted a bed against one wall, that was quite small by modern standards but quite big compared with the one in Caitlin’s home. There was a trunk at the end of it and woven cloths and a tapestry hanging from the walls. She could see a narrow window at one end, with what looked like a sheepskin hanging over it, swagged to the side.

“It’ll warm up soon,” Robbie said, walking back to her, taking her hand, and leading her to the bed. “And there’s plenty of blankets,” he continued. “Although you might want to shake out the bedbugs and sleep by the fire.”

He sat down on the bed and pulled her between his knees, locking his hands behind her back and looking her level in the eyes. “Caitlin’s home is full,” he told her. “And you’ll be safe here in the keep for tonight. Tomorrow, Ian and Gwyneth will move back to their old hut, and you can stay with them once they get settled.” He unlocked his hands and spanned them around her waist. “Are you brave enough to stay here alone tonight, Cat?”

“Wh-Where will you be?”

He shook his head. “I can’t stay with you. We’d find ourselves standing in front of a priest tomorrow morning if I did, with the entire village witnessing our wedding.”

“What?”

“It’s 1210, Catherine. Men and women who share beds had better be married or willing to face the consequences. Remember the warrior who found you by the stream? He wouldn’t have touched you until after you’d stood before a priest. A woman’s reputation is all she has to bring to her husband.” His smiled slashed white in the firelight. “That and maybe a good dowry of a horse and some sheep and, if a guy’s lucky, a milk cow as well.”

“You’re not answering my question. Where will you be?”

He took her stick from her back and tossed it down on the bed, shrugged off his sword, laid it beside her stick, then took her back in his arms. “There’s a chamber pot behind that screen and fresh drinking water in the pitcher on that table,” he continued, nodding at the far wall. “And someone will be up shortly after daybreak to take you back to Ian.”

“Robbie.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m leaving tonight,” he said softly, covering her mouth with his before she could protest, his lips warm and sweet and coaxing.

Catherine refused to respond.

He pulled back and cupped the sides of her face to look directly into her eyes. “You have my word, little Cat, that I’ll return safe and sound. Mary will be guarding my back, and I’ll get in and out before Cùram even knows I’m around.”

“I—I think I love you.”

He went utterly still for a good ten beats of her racing heart, then broke into a smile.

“You think you love me?”

“I don’t know for sure. This is a dream, remember?”

“Aye. And you’re safe in your dream, are you not, to say what’s in your heart? And when you wake up, will you still think you love me?”

“I don’t know. That’s the funny thing about dreams.”

“Aye. But when we’re home, standing in our modern kitchen, and I remind you of your words here tonight, will that not prove that you said them to me? How else could I know what you’re dreaming, if I’m not here with you?”

Catherine thought about that, and while she was thinking, he apparently decided he might as well kiss her again.

And this time, she responded. She backed up her words with actions, opening her mouth to his, leaning into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Only this time, it was different.She was different. Catherine felt as if a hundred and eighty weight had finally been lifted off her shoulders. But what most amazed her was that she’d replaced it with a two-hundred-pound giant, and she wasn’t at all scared.

Lord, she loved the freedom of dreams.

Catherine used her own insubstantial weight to push Robbie back until he was lying on the bed and she was lying on top of him. He was very cooperative. Helpful, even. He slid his hands down her spine to her backside and squeezed, groaning into her mouth as he positioned her hips directly over his. And there were those noble intentions again, solid and hot against her most intimate place. Catherine couldn’t stop herself from wiggling just a little bit, just enough to slide along him, and she smiled against his mouth when he growled and grabbed her hips to stop her.

He was wearing his own plaid again, the one that smelled like him, and Catherine ran her hands under it, slid it down his shoulder, and traced her fingers over his broad chest. She wiggled backward until she could follow the path of her fingers with her mouth, kissing the soft, silky hair on his chest until she found one of his nipples.

His entire body turned to stone the moment her lips closed over the firm bud, and his hands moved from her hips to her shoulders, lifting her face back to his. He claimed her mouth with fierce urgency, pressing her hips with one hand on her backside and crushing their chests together with the other.

Sensations exploded inside her. Shivers of pleasure wracked her body as his heat blasted through their clothes to scorch her skin. Catherine refused to give in to her need to breathe, using her mouth instead to savor his sweet, masculine taste that held just a hint of the scotch he’d had earlier. It was so simple, she decided as she lay sprawled across him, to give herself over to the passion.

His hand began exploring ways to get under the colorful blouse Gwyneth had given her.

But after several frustrated, unsuccessful attempts, Robbie rolled them over until Catherine was on her back and he was looming above her, glaring at her clothes.