“I’m walking back.”

“Aye,” he agreed, nodding. “We both are, by the looks of the ass end of my horse.”

“You are not letting your son ride that monster,” she told him. “And he should wear a helmet when he rides his pony.”

Michael quickly sobered. “I can take care of my son, woman. I don’t need you to tell me what’s best for him.”

“Robbie could fall and be killed,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Or end up in a wheelchair the rest of his life.”

Michael leaned his face close to hers and said softly, “When I’m needing a lecture on being a parent, I’ll go see Grace.”

And still she didn’t back down. “You’re endangering him.”

“I’m raising him to be a man. Robbie will not grow up to be one of your weak moderns who’s more afraid of dying than living.”

She snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. Michael rolled off her and watched Libby scramble to her feet. He didn’t know whether to be insulted or amused when she had the nerve to point her finger at him and continue her lecture.

“Robbie won’t ever be a man if he’s killed in a stupid, preventable accident.” She took a threatening step toward him. “Don’t you dare grin at me, Michael,” she shouted loudly enough for every bird in the forest to hear. “I can’t believe you can be so callous about your son’s safety.”

Michael hooked his toe behind her leg and brought Libby sprawling forward on top of him. He rolled again, pinning her back beneath him. “And I can’t believe you’re so callous about your own safety. Libby,” he growled when she tried to protest, “you’re in the middle of nowhere with a complete stranger. One who is twice your size and who has already warned you of his intentions.”

He set his hand over her mouth when she tried to speak. “And this discussion is over.

You have worse things to worry about than my son’s well-being.”

“What things?” she mumbled under his hand.

“Me,” he whispered, replacing his fingers with his mouth.

He was not breaking his promise that she was safe from him today; he only wanted to shut her up.

But Libby broke it for him when she kissed him back. She matched his passion with a heat of her own that was so intense Michael began to worry that if anyone should be scared, it was him.

Libby broke the kiss and stared up at him with huge, hesitant eyes. “I… I have a confession to make,” she said softly. “I really am afraid of you.”

“I know, lass,” he agreed, gently brushing a leaf from her hair. “But you have no intention of letting that stop you. Am I right?”

Her eyes grew larger and darker, and she slowly nodded.

“Why?” he couldn’t help asking. “If your instinct is saying no, why are you ignoring it?”

Libby studied him as she weighed her answer. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I-I don’t know,” she finally said. “What draws a moth to a flame? There’s just… there’s something about you, Michael MacBain, that makes me want to close my eyes and jump in with both feet.”

He leaned back. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” She touched his cheek. “I’m not looking for much. Just a simple affair.

No demands. No expectations. No strings.”

“Just two people messing up the sheets?” he asked.

She nodded. “Discreetly, for Robbie’s sake.”

Well, dammit. It appeared his lust had been turned against him. He was damned if he did and crazy if he didn’t.

“I know you feel it, too, Michael. That’s why you came to my house this morning. You felt it, didn’t like it, and thought you could scare me off so you wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“Deal with what, woman?” he snapped, feeling defensive that she had seen through him so easily.

Or was it that she felt what he did?

“The energy.” She blew out an impatient breath. “Call it chemistry, then. Whatever. Just don’t you dare deny it, Michael MacBain.” She suddenly tried to push him away.

“Never mind,” she muttered. “This is a big mistake.”

Michael wasn’t quite ready to let her up. He pinned her hands with only one of his and used his other hand on her chin to keep her facing him.

“Mistake or not, that doesn’t change my wanting you.”

“Well, now, isn’t this a fine day for a nap in the woods,” came a familiar and unwelcome voice from above them.

Libby stiffened.

Michael closed his eyes. “Dammit, old man. You take your life in your hands sneaking up on me,” he said, looking up and glaring at Daar.

Daar grinned back, not the least bit worried about his life. “It’s a sad day, MacBain, when a crippled old man can surprise a warrior in the prime of his life. Who’s your friend?”

Michael looked down at Libby, who was trying to wiggle deeper under him to hide.

“Her?” he asked the priest, nodding at the once again still woman beneath him. “This is Libby Hart, your new neighbor. We were just heading up to your cabin so she could meet you.”

“Aye, ya looked like ya was heading somewhere,” Daar agreed.

A sharp finger poked him in the ribs, rather violently, and Michael rose to his feet, exposing his embarrassed friend.

With her face so red it must hurt, Libby sat up, quickly looked down to make sure all her buttons were buttoned, then took her time brushing the leaves off herself.

Michael watched in silence while she worked up the nerve to look at Daar. But once she did, it took her less than a second to scramble to her feet and start talking.

“We had an accident, Father,” she rushed to explain.

“We fell off Michael’s horse.”

Daar nodded. “I seen Stomper. He passed me hell-bent for home a good twenty minutes ago.” He pointed his cane at Libby. “You the woman our Robbie brought to live in Mary

’s house?”

Not caring to see the olddrùidh pointing his staff at Libby, Michael stepped between them. “She’s living in Mary’s house,” he confirmed for the priest. “And if you’re hoping for baked goods from her, you should know that she can’t cook.”

There was a small gasp from behind him, but Michael ignored Libby and continued to give the priest his attention. “She might supply you with eggs, though, if ya start acting civilized.”

Daar moved to the side so that he could see Libby better, then suddenly stepped back and raised his staff again, this time threateningly, his eyes wide with shock.

“Your hair!” he shouted. “Ya carry the mark!”

Libby gasped, and Michael decided he’d had enough. He spun around, took her by the shoulders, and pointed her down the mountain. “Walk,” he told her. “I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”

He was truly surprised when she obeyed him and greatly relieved when she finally walked out of sight. Michael strode up the knoll and stopped only when his chest came into contact with Daar’s staff.

“You will leave her alone, old man,” he warned.

The priest moved his gaze from where Libby had disappeared and stared at Michael.

“Did ya not see the mark, MacBain? She possesses the power.”

“What sort of power?” Michael asked. “Are ya saying Libby’s a witch?”

Daar frantically shook his head. “Nay, not a witch. I did not feel anything like that.”

“Then what?” Michael asked with waning patience. “If she’s not a witch, why are ya so rattled?”

Daar scratched his beard with the end of his cane and stared again at the path Libby had taken. “I don’t know, exactly,” he said, looking back at Michael. “She surprised me, is all. Maybe… maybe ya shouldn’t be associating with her until I can learn what she’s about. Nor should Robbie be spending any time with her.”

“No,” Michael countered. “It’s you who will stay away from her. Libby’s not a threat to us. Maybe to you,” he speculated, looking thedrùidh in the eye. “Ya did enough interfering in my life twelve years ago. You’ll stay out of it now.”

“That was a mistake, MacBain. I apologized for that.”

“And you’re mistaken now. It’s a lock of white hair. Nothing more.”