Highlander's Ransom (10 page)

As she finished up, she heard the cottage door bang
against the wall, causing her to jump. Turning, she saw Robert barreling down
on her, fury in his eyes. Surprise quickly turned to fright, and she tried to
back away as he kept plowing toward her, but realized her back was to the
stream, and there was nowhere else to go.

“What are you doing?” he barked at her. Why was he so
angry?

“I—I was just—” She gestured toward the stream. She
took a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves in the face of this fierce
warrior’s temper. “You can lower your voice. I was only washing up before Paul
and I served the stew,” she said, proud that her voice no longer shook.

He leveled her with those frigid blue eyes. “When did
you leave the loft?” he said in a slightly more calm tone.

“Oh, hours ago. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I
crawled over you and went downstairs,” she said.

“Crawled?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes,” she said quickly, feeling heat rush to her
face. “It seemed like you needed the sleep, so I just…”

He grunted, then said tersely, “Don’t go wandering off
again. Although we are in the Highlands now, it is not necessarily safe.” With
that, he took her by the elbow and steered her back toward the cottage, but she
wrenched her arm free. “I am perfectly capable of walking, Laird Sinclair,” she
said acerbically. He gave her a cool smile that didn’t touch his eyes, then
sarcastically swept his arm toward the door. “After you, then,
my lady
.”
Keeping her chin level, she glided past him without a glance in his direction.
Why was he so annoyed with her? She had done nothing wrong. He likely was
frustrated about something else, and was taking it out on her. What that
something might be, though, she had no idea. He had seemed distracted when they
arrived at the cottage. Alwin had chalked it up to exhaustion, but perhaps
there was more to it than that.

Back inside the cottage, the men on the floor had
begun to stir and sit up. Looking for something to do to distract herself from
Robert’s gaze, which she could feel boring into her back, she joined Paul
again, and the two of them began ladling out steaming stew to the awakening
men. Once they were all served, including a scowling Robert, she dished Paul
and herself a bowl each, and, finding no place else to sit, plopped down on the
ground next to Burke. At first, the group was silent as they all dug into their
first hot meal in days, but soon, the air was filled with hearty thanks and
compliments on the stew. She let a faint smile creep onto her lips, surprising
herself by how pleased she was at these men’s gratitude.

As the meal wound down, she caught Robert gazing at
her intently again. She couldn’t interpret his look, though, and apprehension
filled her. Just then he stood and ordered his men to leave them alone in the
cottage. Soon, only she, Burke, Paul and Robert remained, and the space felt
strangely empty. Her apprehension continued to grow as Robert spoke to Paul and
Burke in Gaelic. Burke began to frown, and even looked angry at his Laird. Paul
nodded, then went up the ladder to the loft, returning with a book.

Alwin glanced between the three men, trying to figure
out what was going on. Something was afoot, but the three seemed determined to
keep her in the dark about it. Paul began to read aloud from his book in Gaelic,
and no one would make eye contact with her. Then Robert said something to Paul,
who turned to Burke. Through clenched teeth, Burke responded, still in Gaelic,
all the while shooting daggers with his eyes at Robert.

“Robert? What is going on?” she demanded, fear edging
her voice. It seemed strange for them to carry on a conversation in Gaelic in
front of her; normally either Robert or Burke would switch to English for her
benefit. Robert didn’t answer, though, and instead kept his eyes locked on Paul
as the old man continued to read aloud from his book. Paul concluded his
reading, and made the sign of the cross in front of her and Robert.

What happened next upended her world.

Robert leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.

At first it was just the lightest brush of his lips
against hers, but he lingered there, and she felt his hand snake around the
back of her head, holding her in place while he deepened the kiss. Her eyes
fluttered closed, and everything seemed to spin. She felt electricity course through
her body from their point of contact. His lips were soft yet firm on hers, and
his days-old growth of beard gently scratched her cheek and chin.

He finally released her lips from his and let his hand
drop from where he had held her head. She wobbled on her feet, and could only
stare up at him open-mouthed and wide eyed.

“You’ve done it now, Robert. We’ll leave you to
explain yourself,” Burke said bitterly from behind her. He took Paul’s elbow
and guided him out the door, closing it behind him and leaving Robert to face
Alwin’s look of shock alone.

Chapter 15

He watched as Alwin brushed her fingertips over her
lips, her eyes still wide.

“What—why did you do that?” she managed.

He couldn’t blame her—he was rather surprised by their
kiss as well. He could have guessed that her lips would be soft, but he had no
idea that there would be so much heat in the encounter. Her rose scent had
enveloped him, and her lips had responded to his with innocent interest.

He ran a hand through his hair, warring with himself.
Once he told her of what had just happened, she would likely never let him do
what he wanted to do again more than anything else right now. He tried to
regain control of his desire to taste her lips more fully, and almost had a rein
on his craving when she lowered her fingertips and unconsciously licked her
lips. It was not an intentionally seductive motion, for he was sure she was
innocent, but that thought ended up being his undoing.

In one stride he closed the small space between them.
He placed one of his hands on her lower back, and the other around the nape of
her neck, then without considering the consequences, he drew her fully against
him. Before she could let out a sound of surprise, he planted his lips on hers
once again. He started where he had left off a moment before, with a firm
pressure on her soft and yielding lips. As the kiss stretched, she went to pull
away, but he tilted her head farther, and at her gasp, he invaded her mouth
with his tongue. Her warmth overwhelmed his senses as he slowly claimed her
mouth, his tongue stroking hers. Soon she was leaning into his body, and he
felt her arms come up to loop around his neck. She was tentative at first, but
then she met his tongue with her own, and her caress sent the blood rushing to
his manhood. He molded her body to his, feeling every delicate curve crushed
against him. If he didn’t stop this soon, he realized, he didn’t know when or
if he could.

He finally managed to will himself to pull his mouth
off of hers, and stepped back so that their bodies no longer pressed together.
She exhaled sharply at the loss of contact, and her cloudy grey eyes shone with
confusion and something else—passion. He saw in an instant that his touch had
awakened something inside her that no other had. That thought had him cursing
himself silently. Why had he kissed her again? Was it simply a matter of his
male need? Was it just that he was curious about the sparks of desire he felt
after their first kiss? And if so, was his need or curiosity any more sated than
it had been a moment ago? The answer, he realized, berating himself, was no.
Now all he wanted was more. But he had to tell her what he had done, the
decision he had made for her future. He had been selfish and controlled by
passion, which would likely make his task now all the more difficult. He raked
a hand through his hair again and cursed, this time aloud.

His expletive caused Alwin to start, and seemed to
break the spell of what had just happened. And what
had
just happened,
she wondered. Their first kiss had been so startling that she had hardly
computed what had occurred when suddenly he was kissing her again. The second
kiss was like nothing she had experienced. She had only shared a stolen peck on
the lips a few times before, and in honesty, those had stopped once she had
started to become a young lady. Those kisses were sweet, tame, but this kiss—it
was heated, intense, and, she thought with a blush, very intimate. When he had
entered her mouth, she had felt her head swim and her body tingle all over, but
especially in a few private places. His raw strength had made her feel both
possessed and protected, and his scent, clean and masculine, had surrounded
her, clouding her senses. And just as she felt herself grow heavy with longing
for something she didn’t fully understand, he had released her.

“Robert, please,” she whispered, “what is happening?”

He cleared his throat and appeared to be genuinely
struggling to respond to her pleaded question. Then, he let his detached mask
fall down over his face, and turned his eyes flat, cold. The change frightened
her, but nothing could prepare her for his words.

“We are now married.”

She just stood there for several seconds staring
blankly at him. Then she blinked as if finally comprehending what he had said. “What
do you mean?” she said in a low voice.

“Paul is actually Father Paul. He just conducted a
marriage ceremony in Gaelic. We are wed.” His voice was even, though he watched
her closely.

“Wed?” Her confusion was beginning to turn to anger.
“How can we be wed? I did not say I do!”

“Burke spoke for you.”

“Burke?” She registered somewhere in the back of her
mind that she had just yelled that, but didn’t care.

“He did not wish to put you in this position, but he
his loyal to me. I asked him to speak for you.”

“And why in the bloody hell would you do that?” she
shouted.

“Calm down and I will explain,” he ordered.

She wasn’t sure if it was his words or his tone that
caused her to snap, but either way, in a flash she launched herself at him,
ready to claw his eyes out. He caught her wrists before her nails could reach
him, but a look of surprise at the force of her attack flitted across his face.
He stumbled backward and tripped on one of his men’s bedrolls that still lay on
the floor of the cottage. He went tumbling to the floor, with her on top of
him. Luckily, his body broke her fall, for she hardly knew what was happening,
only that fury surged through her.

In an instant, he flipped them both over so that he
pinned her to the floor. He pressed her wrists into the wooden floorboards
despite her continued thrashing and attempts to scratch him. She jerked up her
knee toward his crotch, but he blocked it with one of his legs.

“Get off me!” she shrieked angrily. Then a shadow
crossed over her mind and she redoubled her efforts to escape his grasp, this
time with fear as her motivation. She let out a wordless scream that was edged
with terror. He was going to consummate the marriage right here on the floor.
He was going to rape her.

Robert struggled to understand the change in her for a
second, then realization dawned on him and he instantly released her hands and
stood up and off of her. He had deceived her, forced her into a marriage, and
now she thought that he would force himself on her to complete the union. The thought
disgusted him, but she didn’t know that. She scrambled to her feet and away
from him, putting her back into one of the corners of the cottage. She panted,
eyes still wide with fear, but also with a glint of determination and fight in
them.

He held up his hands in front of him, gesturing that
he would not advance on her. “Let me explain,” he said again, this time with
caution.

She stood there panting for another moment,
occasionally brushing a stray strand of light brown hair from her eyes.
Finally, she nodded.

“You have now met your betrothed, and I hope you
recognize him for the vile excuse for a man that he is,” he began. He waited
for a response from her, but she just continued to stare at him with a guarded
look. “As I told you before, he makes a living by leeching away the lives of
others. He profits on warmongering. You have heard of the Battle of Roslin?”

She nodded again, still remaining silent.

“I was there. Roslin is my home, and as Laird, the
land and people are my responsibility. I was also there for the negotiations
attempting to prevent war. That was when I first met Warren. He lied to the
king and the English gathered there that several Scottish chieftains plotted a
secret attack. That lie, along with the falsified documents he made to accompany
it, set Longshanks—your King Edward—on a warpath. Only a few months after
negotiations broke down, I was fighting for my life and the lives of my people
on my own land. We were victorious, but many of my men died, and the land took
years to recover.”

He paused, letting her process his words.

“Warren was there on the battlefield at Roslin. Just
as you saw him do yesterday, he turned and ran when it became clear that his
side would not be successful. I vowed on that day to do everything I could to
make him answer for the lives he cost with his deceit.”

“And you will dole out your punishment for Warren on
me?” she asked, her voice filled with bitterness.