Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) by Sky Purington

her flushed face.
    When he stood, she put a hand up and shook her head. On a heavy swallow, she said, “Nay, ‘tis too soon. I need time to gain confidence.”
    Her words sounded like an excuse even to her own ears. For all she thought she’d come far the eve before, mayhap she was wrong. Torra watched Colin internally fight his assertive nature. She knew full well he was tempted to pull her into his arms. Instead, he inhaled deeply and raked a hand through his hair.
    “Confidence will only be gained through repetition. ‘Tis what I tell all my warriors,” he muttered under his breath and stalked into the adjoining chamber.
    “I am not one of your warriors,” she reminded, following, trying not to get aggravated.
    “Aye, but you are.” Colin’s regard swung her way as he poured two mugs of mead. “You are mine and you are a warrior.” He handed her a mug, eyes the hardest she’d ever seen them when looking at her. “If you willnae share your secrets then I will focus ever harder on those aspects of this war in which I can help.”
    She knew precisely what aspects those were. Torra set aside the mug and crossed her arms over her chest. “So you think to train me by seducing me?”
    “Aye, lass.” His lip quirked, but his eyes remained mirthless. “Your greatest strength lies in the relationship you have with the dragon. To become the best warrior you can you must have full control over your other half.”
    It didn’t matter how much sense he made, his words irked her. But despite her rising temper, Torra was surprised to realize that not only his words but the stern way he looked at her ignited…desire? This time his lips didn’t quirk but curled up ever so slowly, well aware of both her mental and physical reaction.
    “A lover’s spat already? ‘Tis an ill thing that.”
    Colin had a dagger in hand so fast the eye barely caught it.
    Valan leaned against the threshold, crossed his arms over his wide chest and simply cocked a brow at the MacLeod.
    “Get the bloody hell out of here,” Colin ground out, heading for the doorway.
    Torra muttered to herself and made quick work of intercepting moments before Colin reached him. Valan, meanwhile, didn’t budge an inch. Hand on the MacLeod’s chest; she shook her head, eye on his dagger. “Nay, dinnae do it.”
    Though it was about the last thing she wanted to do, Torra knew that there was more to this whole adventure through time than learning to better control the dragon. Voice as firm as she could manage when standing far too closely between them, she kept eyes locked with Colin and nodded at the table. “Sit.”
    Then she looked over her shoulder. “You too, Valan.”
    Both started to say nay, but she shook her head and made sure they saw dragon fire flash in her eyes. “ Now .”
    While it was perfectly clear neither was intimidated by her in the least, both reluctantly sat across the table from one another. Shaped like a square, she sat on a third side, one that allowed her to see the doorway. Never before had she been so entirely uncomfortable. But only she was qualified to handle the vengeance between them. If all was to work out as hoped these two Scotsmen desperately needed to work not against but with each other.
    They were almost frightening in their silent, seething dislike of one another. She could sense rather than see how pent up they were. Colin remained loose-limbed, hand still clenching his dagger as it rested on the table. Valan, eyes narrowed on his nemesis, was just as loose-limbed and though he didn’t grip a weapon it didn’t matter in the least. He would kill fast and furious if provoked.
    Torra took a deep breath before she spoke. “We will never see Keir defeated if you both dinnae set aside your differences.” Her eyes went to Valan. “Colin is not at fault for my betrayal. He knew naught who I was when we met and well you know it.”
    Valan’s eyes never left Colin’s. “Nay, but he did soon enough. ‘Twould have been