Mist swirled past in shapeless streams. "But you"ve got to take the land as you find it, for it holds its own surprises."

"I think I"ve had enough surprises for one day," she muttered.

"Almost there. That boulder you just tripped over was at the edge of the cliff." His hand slid into the small of her back, guiding her to safety.

Jamee felt her shoulder brush the solid line of a granite overhang. She reached out dizzily, her chin jammed against his neck. "Are we safe yet?"

"We"re safe. How are you doing, Jamee Night?"

She realized she was shivering. She laughed wildly as she clutched the soft wool lapels of his jacket. "Good. So good I think I might be sick any second." She held on tight, savoring his warmth and the scratch of the weathered tweed.

Something touched her hair. "Better?"

"I might actually be able to breathe again." Her head tilted back. "You never told me your whole name."

"Ian McCall."

Jamee smiled crookedly. "Hello, Ian McCall," she whispered.

"Hello, to you, Jamee Night."

She wondered why being wrapped in his arms felt so comfortable.

Jamee felt an odd lurch in her chest. There was only the heat and weight of their bodies, the scrape of his tweed at her cool cheek.

"You"re crying," he said gruffly, his palm covering her cheek.

"I amnot. "

His hand opened, finding dampness. "Then what"s this?"

"Mist."

"Mist, is it?" Ian asked gravely. His fingers slid down her braid, knot by heavy knot. "You"ve got wonderful hair, Jamee Night."

"You can"t see it in this fog."

"But I can feel it," he whispered as his hands caught the weight of her hair.

Jamee tensed, expecting to panic at the caress. How long had it been since a man had touched her like this? Six months? A year?

Abruptly, his hands slid away. He muttered a phrase she didn"t understand. "That was damn stupid of you. You could have been killed diving at me that way."

"It seemed the thing to do at the time. I couldn"t walk away when you were in danger."

"You"re brave. Maybe too brave."

"Tell that to my knocking knees," Jamee said weakly. "You really weren"t going to jump?"

"No, I was not."

She frowned. "Then what were you doing out there on the cliff edge?"

He made an irritated sound. "I was looking for something."

"And did you find it?"

He eased back against a granite boulder, taking her with him, curled against his chest. "You ask too many questions."

"That"s not an answer." Jamee made out his smile, slow and grave. She realized it was heartbreakingly beautiful as it lit every corner of his face.

"I don"t believe I did. But I think maybe I found something else."

His lips brushed her nose, then swept over her open mouth. She forgot everything but the weight of his hands at her back and the warm touch of his mouth as something stirred inside her.

The ache grew into a feeling Jamee hadn"t known for months.

Desire, slow and sweet.

The shock of it made her hand tremble at his neck. "I don"t think this is such a good idea."

"You"re right, it isn"t," he said, frowning.

Jamee closed her eyes and shivered.

"Jamee?"

She swallowed, unable to speak. The cold fear returned, overwhelming her with harsh memories. After all these years, she still tasted the terror of being betrayed and held against her will.

"Jamee, we"re safe."

She shook her head blindly. Why did the panic always sweep up out of her memory? Why couldn"t the past stay finished and forgotten?

She pushed away from him. "I"d better go. My car is over there by the road." She turned, frowning at the blank wall of clouds. Her car was totally hidden now.

A black shape shot past her head. "What was that?"

"A seagull. The fog"s getting worse."

"I"ve got to get away. Out of here. N-now." She fought to keep the anxiety from her voice.

"You"re not going anywhere near the road. This fog could last for hours-or even days. We"ve got to get to shelter while we can still see."

"No. I"m heading to my car and then I"m driving back to the village of Dunraven. I have business there," she said desperately.

Ian cupped her shoulder. "Look around you, Jamee. You can"t possibly drive in this."

"I can"t stay," she said raggedly, trying to pull free of his grip.

"Dammit, will you stop and listen? Keep going that way and you"ll walk right off the cliff."

"You"re wrong." Her voice faltered. "Aren"t you?"

"Go ahead and find out. Just don"t expect me to follow you this time."

She stood uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot while the fog pushed past in wet streaks. He was right, she couldn"t see even a foot away. Her hands clenched. "Where would we go?"

"There"s an old crofter"s cottage about a quarter of a mile up the hill. With luck, I should be able to guide us there, but not if we stand here talking. It will be dark in a few minutes."

"But it"s barely two!"

Ian shrugged. "Welcome to the Highlands, Ms. Night."

"Why can"t we go to Dunraven Castle? I"m expected later today with a set of textiles for the laird and his wife. Everything was planned."

"Dunraven Castle is at least ten kilometers from here," Ian said impatiently. "I have no intention of trying to drive there or anywhere else in this fog. One miscalculation and we"d be flotsam on the beach."

Jamee made a low, angry sound. "All right," she said warily. "But first I need to call Dunraven Castle and tell them what"s happened."

"There"s a telephone in my car." Sighing, Ian gripped her hand and tugged her across the gravel toward a battered Jeep. Without a word he pushed her into the passenger seat, then leaned down to pull a mobile phone from the floor. "Make your call, then let"s go."

"Thank you," Jamee said tightly.

Ian strode toward the front of the car, scowling. He had been following her since dawn, careful to stay well out of sight. The deception irritated him. Keeping a distance generally misfired, just as it had this morning when Jamee had turned off the cliff road several kilometers back.

He had missed her turn and had had to double back until he"d caught sight of her parked car.

He had been looking forher when he"d been caught off guard and knocked squarely to the ground by the very person he was supposed to protect.

Adam Night was wrong, Ian thought grimly. This wasnot going to work. But before he could find a replacement, he"d have to get Jamee to safety, out of this fog and off these bloody cliffs.

"Kara?" Ian heard Jamee"s breathless voice behind him. "Is this Dunraven Castle? What- Hello? Hello?"

Moments passed. Ian turned as the door creaked open. "Something wrong?"

"I lost the connection. The static was terrible."

"You can try again later." Ian closed the phone and slid it beneath the seat. "We have to go.

Unless maybe you"d rather spend the night here, freezing in the car."

"I need my bag. It"s across the road." Before he could stop her, Jamee followed the gravel edge of the road to a row of boulders.

Through the mist Ian saw her reach for a white canvas bag and pull it over her shoulder. The fabric strained, every inch crammed full. "You need to carry all of that?"

"Yes, I do." Jamee winced, shifting the bag over her shoulder.

Ian started up the slope, the wet turf slippery beneath his feet. "This climb may turn rough. In a few minutes it"s going to be black as peat out here." He shoved his leather knapsack over his shoulder and tugged a compass from his pocket. One misjudged step would take them both plunging off one of the small, rocky spurs that surrounded the trail. Muttering, he grasped Jamee"s arm and pulled her up the slope.

"You reallyare worried, aren"t you?" she said softly.

"Of course I"m worried. The weather can change in an instant. There"s a reason a dozen or so hikers are lost in these mountains every year."

To Ian"s surprise, Jamee didn"t complain as they struggled over low rocks and wet peat. In fact, he could almost have sworn he heard her reflexive gasp turn into a chuckle as they plunged into an icy burn.

"I don"t suppose you could manage to find the dry route."

"I"ll be lucky to find any route at all." How could the woman be so calm? That bag had to be hurting her shoulder, and they both might as well have been blind in this weather. "Are you all right with that satchel?"

"Fine," she said breathlessly. "It"s kind of exciting. The smell is wonderful, all saltwater and pine trees." Abruptly, the wind changed, bringing a musky scent. Jamee laughed softly. "Even I know what that is. Your famous Scottish sheep."

"Some would call them infamous." Ian pulled the compass out again and squinted at the face, nearly invisible in the thick gray pall of unnatural dusk. "There should be three flat boulders somewhere to our left."

"What about to the right?"

"A marsh that I"d greatly prefer to avoid." A deadly cliff dropped off to the right of the marsh, but Ian didn"t tell Jamee that. Once they were safe and dry, it would make an exciting story rather than a gruesome possibility.

"Does that mean we"re close?"

"Less than twenty yards, assuming I haven"t lost all sense of direction in this bloody fog."

Abruptly, Ian pulled Jamee to a halt. "Listen." An ominous whisper rose around them.

"What is it?"

"A waterfall. Not where it should be, either." Ian frowned. "Where did you smell those sheep?"

"To my right. About three o"clock, I"d say."

The sheep would know how to avoid the swollen stream, and with it the deadly crags just beyond. "We"ll go where the sheep go."

"Why?"

"Because they have a path, and their way is the shortest way up."

"Are you sure?" Jamee said dubiously.

"Of course I"m sure." As sure as he could be of anything in this fog. "Let"s go." The air was darker, gray instead of the dirty white it had been when they"d crossed the burn. Ian pulled the heavy bag from Jamee"s shoulder as she swayed under its weight, then took her arm, helping her over the wet turf.

"Wait. I felt something by my foot." Jamee bent down, running her hands over the ground.

"How many stones did you say there were supposed to be?"

"Three. Flat and about as high as your knee."

"Here they are," she announced.

"Follow the angle of the stones upward." Ian cursed soundlessly. Moisture slid past his collar, chilling his neck and back. He prayed there would be dry peat and kindling in the cottage.