Christine Dorsey - [MacQuaid 02] by My Heavenly Heart Page A

astonished at the resemblance between herself and her mother. “At first I thought I’d come across a portrait of you,” Liz had said, while Rachel stared at the gilt framed canvas. Then she turned, without saying a word and walked away. She never went back for a second look. She never discussed the incident with Liz. Her closest friend Liz.
    So why, when there was no need of it, did she bring the issue up with a man she didn’t even like?
    Rachel shut her eyes and took a deep breath, opening them again to stare unseeing over the landscape. What was she doing here? Logan MacQuaid seemed in no danger of having his life snuffed out. She’d seldom seen a man more capable of protecting himself.
    Yet Lone Dove was not surprised by her assigned task. He accepted her words with no qualms... accepted them perhaps more easily than she did herself. For the more time that went by, the more impossible her assignment seemed. And she did long to return to Queen’s House. For the peace and pleasure she’d known there. For the chance to avenge her friend’s life.
    What was Lord Bingham doing right now? Did he consider himself a fortunate man, well rid of an unfaithful wife and her lover and friend? No one to point a finger toward his guilty heart and reveal his sin. But she would do it. When she returned, she would tell the Queen and Lord Bingham would bear the punishment for his crime.
    But first she must finish here. And patience was something Rachel never held dear. “Listen to your spirit,” the Adawehis had told her. “You will find the way.” But her spirit told her nothing and her mind only screamed that she must hurry.
    She was an angel. Surely she could control things about her if she tried. Could summon a chorus of hosannas. Could fly. Rachel paused, a slight smile tilting the corners of her lips. Of course, angels could fly. Any painting she’d ever seen showed them hovering, their wings outstretched. Granted, she had no wings, least none she could see, but she must possess them all the same. She must be able to fly.
    She stepped forward, not sure she actually planned to try it—not ever getting the chance.
    Strong arms wrapped about her waist, moments before the thrust of his body knocked her to the side. He rolled before they hit the ground, absorbing most although not all of the shock. Rachel barely had time for her breath to return before he had rolled again, this time on top her.
    “What in the hell were you about to do?”
    His face was above hers, dark and angry, his green eyes narrowed.
    “I was...” Rachel bit her lip. At the moment it seemed perfectly ridiculous to say what she thought of doing. Testing one’s ability to fly by leaping from the side of the mountain was madness. At least he would think so. “Nothing. Now please get off me.” But he didn’t obey. She could feel the pebbly hardness of the ground beneath her back as he settled on her more firmly.
    “I saw you with me own eyes, Rachel.”
    “You saw nothing.” She was angry now, and only partly because she wasn’t sure he hadn’t seen the truth. “Get off I say. Get—”
    But the rest of her words were cut off when his mouth covered hers. His kiss was rough, as she expected from him, hard and uncompromising. Not like the few kisses she’d shared with William.
    Beneath her gravel and dirt ground into her clothing and hair, and above her his weight was oppressive. But his tongue pressed into her mouth, stirring to life sensations that filled her with longing. Which was folly, if not completely impossible. How could someone who wasn’t even alive feel as she did?
    Rachel tried to focus her mind on that as well as the fact that she could barely tolerate the man. But none of that seemed to matter as his lips pressed into hers. Of their own volition her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in the long strands of obsidian hair. Her breathing grew shallow and quick, her heart thumped painfully in her chest, and she could