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It was nearly one in the ot home If she’d had to make one more extra-shot, one-half decaf, Venti, double-cup, teet-n-Low, skiht foaht have done bodily harood old-fashioned coffee anyar--loads of cream Life was too short to count calories At least that’s what she told herself each time the scale snidely deemed her plump for five-foot, three and three-quarter inches

With a hts of work from her mind It was over She’d done her time, and now she was free to be just Jane And she couldn’t wait to start that new va her teeth, she slipped out of her jeans and sweater and into her favorite nightie, the frilly, romantic one with tiny daisies and cornflowers eed the box near her bed before dropping cross-legged on the plu-tape seal with a metal nail file, she paused and sniffed, as an irresistibly spicy scent wafted fro elusive that nudged her past feeling dreamily romantic to positively aroused Great tiht ruefully, with no man to attack when the love scenes heat up Untouched except in her dreaentle boil

With a wry sain when her hands closed on rough fabric Frowning, she tugged it free, sending peanuts skittering across the hardwood floor The exotic scent filled the roolanced at the closed casement , bemused by the sudden sultry breeze that lifted strands of her curly red hair and pressed her nightie close to her body

Perplexed, she placed the folded fabric on her bed, then checked the box No postmark, no return address, but her nae block letters, next to her apart for it," she announced, certain a hefty bill would shortly follow "I didn’t order it" Darned if she was paying for soh tis she did want

Irritated that she had no new books to read, she plucked idly at the fabric, then unfolded it and spread it out on the bed

And sat motionless, her mouth ajar

"This is not funny," she breathed, shocked "No," she amended in a shaky whisper, "this is not possible"

It was a tapestry, exquisitely woven of brilliant colors, featuring abefore a ant stance that clearly proclaimed him master of the keep Clad in a crialia, both his hands were extended as if reaching for her

And it was hi a deep breath, she closed her eyes, then opened them slowly

It was still him Each detail precisely as she’d dreamed him, from his powerful forearms and oh-so-capable hands to his luminous aqua eyes, to his silky dark hair and his sensualin medieval times, with a man like him!

Beneath his likeness, carefully stitched, was his name "Aedan MacKinnon," she whispered

Mortals did not bide captivity in Faery well--they did not age and time stretched into infinity--and Aedan MacKinnon was no exception It took aiinative tortures, for the Highlander to forget who he’d once been The king devoted the next two centuries to brutally training and conditioning hie spoken and instructed him in the skills, custosuspicion He trained hi and endowed hi the fifth and final century, the king dispatched him frequently to the mortal real the mortal’s confounded sense of honor had proven i utilized dark spells to co such missions, and if the conflict caused thecared not Only the end result interested the Unseelie king

After five centuries, the man who’d once been known as Aedan MacKinnon had no recollection of his short span of thirty years in the er knew that he waswas banishing hieance only once he had fulfilled all the terhlander had long ago forgotten In accordance with that agreeic or instruction of any kind: Vengeance was to have his