Gwen shrugged, a mysterious smile playing about her lips. “There are lots of legends in Scotland about such stones.” She paused. “Some people say they’re portals to another time.”

“I read a romance novel like that once.”

“You read romance novels?” Gwen exclaimed, delighted.

The next few moments were filled with a hasty comparison of favorite titles, female bonding, and recommendations.

“I knew I liked you.” Gwen beamed. “When you were talking earlier about the history of all those artifacts, I was afraid you might be the stuffy literary type. Nothing against literary novels,” she added hastily, “but if I want to get all existential and depressed, I’ll pick a fight with my husband or watch CNN.” She was silent a moment, her hand resting lightly on her rounded belly. “Scotland isn’t like any other country in the world, Chloe. You can almost feel the magic in the air, can’t you?”

Chloe cocked her head and studied the towering megaliths. The stones were thousands of years old and their purpose had long been heatedly debated by scholars, archeoastronomers, anthropologists, even mathematicians. They were a mystery modern man had never been able to unravel.

And yes, she did feel a brush of magic about them, a sense of ancient secrets, and was struck suddenly by how right Dageus looked standing in the middle of them. Like a primitive sorcerer, wild and forbidding, a keeper of secrets, arcane and profane. She rolled her eyes at her absurd fancy.

“What is he doing, Gwen?” she asked, squinting.

Gwen shrugged but didn’t reply.

It looked as if he was writing something on the inner face of each stone. There were thirteen, towering around a center slab that was fashioned of two stone supports, and one large flat stone placed atop it in the shape of a squat dolmen.

As Chloe watched, Dageus moved to the next stone, his hand moving with brisk surety across its inner face. He was writing on it, she realized. How odd. She narrowed her eyes. God, the man was beautiful. He’d changed after breakfast. Soft, faded jeans hugged his powerful thighs and muscled butt. A thick wool sweater and hiking boots completed his rugged outdoorsman look. His hair fell in a single braid to his waist.

I’m going to keep you forever, her dream Dageus had said.

You’ve got it bad, Zanders, she reluctantly acknowledged with a little sigh.

“You have feelings for him,” Gwen murmured, jarring her.

Chloe paled. “Is it that obvious?”

“To someone who knows what to look for. I’ve never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you, Chloe.”

“If he looks at me any differently than others, it’s only because most women fall into bed with him the minute they meet him,” Chloe said, puffing a curly strand of hair from her face. “I’m just the one who got away.” So far, was the dry thought accompanying that.