Return of the Rogue (14 page)

He stood breathless. His wife instinctively felt safe without even opening her eyes, and from what
he’d learned about her, he had been the only one to embrace her, hold her in his arms.

She knew he held her. She knew she was safe. She trusted him, and his heart soared with the thought. If she trusted him, then she could possibly love him.

H
onora woke with a start in the middle of the night. She was surprised to find herself in bed, her garments intact. She peeked over the edge and saw her husband sleeping as always on the floor in front of the hearth. He had to have been the one who placed her in bed.

Even in sleep she would have fought against a stranger touching her. But her husband? She would have responded willingly to him, therefore he had to have been the one to move her here, which meant he’d searched for her.

She rolled on her back to stare at the ceiling. She wondered how he had fared in the altercation with his brother and why he’d felt the need to find her. He had never worried about her whereabouts. At first she’d thought he cared less about where she went and what she did. Obviously, she’d been wrong.

She stilled, hearing a strange sound, heard nothing, but then it came again. It sounded as if someone was in pain, and she listened. There it was again. Hastily, she peered over the edge of the bed.

Cavan’s body jerked and trembled. He looked again to be in the throes of a nightmare. Dare she help him, or should she leave him to fend for himself?

Honora pulled the blanket up under her chin like a protective shield, not certain how to proceed. Stay as she was, safe and sound in her bed? Or go to her husband in his hour of need?

She didn’t need time to think it through; she slipped out of bed and padded barefoot across the room. Her husband wore only his plaid, which fit him loosely. His blanket had been pushed aside and yet he hugged his trembling body, though it was warmed by the heat of the hearth.

He looked vulnerable, his face grimaced as in pain, and her heart went out to him. He needed comfort and she didn’t hesitate to give it to him. She scurried quietly back to the bed, snatched a blanket, and returned to him. She arranged his blanket over Cavan, added her own, then slipped beneath to join him, snuggling against him, burrowing herself to him until he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and settled comfortably into an easy embrace that chased his tremble away.

Her husband was warm, his heartbeat steady, and his scent all too familiar.

He belonged to her.

The thought quivered her soul. How could she think he belonged to her?

Simple. They were wed. He was her husband.

Could it be that simple? She didn’t believe so. He could only belong to her if he wished to belong to
her, just as she could only belong to him if she so chose. Otherwise it was an arrangement between families.

He shivered, and she hugged him to her, pressing her cheek to his and whispering soothing words. He quieted in no time, his arms tightening around her as he settled against her, burying his face in her hair.

She snuggled her face in his bare chest, her lips gracing his nipple. She thought to taste more of him but contained herself. He needed comfort, and so she placed her cheek to his chest and eased him with soothing words and promises to look after him and to be there for him whenever need be.

It felt so wonderful being there in his arms, snuggled beside him, comforting him, loving him. Did she dare love him? What if he didn’t return that love? She felt confused and wished there was someone she could confide in, share her worries and doubts. There was Addie, but once again, she knew it would be awkward discussing the matter with her husband’s mother. And she couldn’t very well speak to her brothers-in-law about love.

She felt isolated, so very alone, though there were so many around her, and who truly was the one person she had confided in?

Her husband
.

Since Cavan began teaching her to defend herself, they had spent more time together, which allowed for more conversations, getting to know each other better, and beginning to build trust between them. Cavan was quickly becoming her best friend,
and she had quickly learned to relish the relationship, especially since such friendship had long been denied her.

Cavan even let her have a puppy of her own. He’d seen how much she cared for the pup, and instead of denying her the animal, encouraged their kinship. Her stepfather had not even allowed her that. He’d dictated every part of her life, all the while telling her it was for her own good so she would be an obedient wife who would never even think of defying her husband.

She was beginning to realize that all men did not expect extreme obedience from their wives. And seeing Addie’s strong nature and how she spoke her mind, that all women needn’t be compliant.

Cavan groaned again and hugged her tighter before loosening his grip on her, though he didn’t release her, didn’t push her away, didn’t deny her. But then, he didn’t know she was there. To him the feel of her was probably just a dream.

She settled once again comfortably against him and thought to remain with him for a while until she was certain his nightmares had passed before returning to her bed. He needn’t know that she’d comforted him. It was enough for her to know it.

His warm body, his familiar scent, the heat from the hearth all served to relax and lull her to sleep.

Cavan woke with a tickle to his nose, and just as he was about to brush the annoying speck away, realized his arms were wrapped around a warm soft body. He almost released his wife with a start until
common sense—or was it a spark of desire?—stilled him.

What was she doing in his arms?

Her cheek rested against his chest, her arm was draped across his waist, and one of her legs was tucked between his two, while his arms were wrapped protectively around her. His heart thudded madly and he grew hard in a flash.

“Damn,” he mumbled.

She felt good in his arms, much too good, her breasts pressed against his chest, her knee resting just beneath his manhood, which sprouted in full-blown passion.

He wanted her, Lord how he wanted her.

He had been too long without a woman, and while he had every right—it was actually his duty—to join with his wife, he hesitated. He didn’t want to ravish her out of need. He wanted to make love with her from his heart.

He was about to groan but managed to keep it silent, its ripple reverberating down his throat. How had he allowed his arranged marriage to become so complicated? He didn’t like his own answer.

Stubbornness.

He had been stubborn about too many things since his return, only one deservingly so—his brother. His guilt would never be assuaged until he found Ronan.

He would never feel whole until then, and his wife didn’t deserve only half of a man. She was entitled to a warrior, a true future chieftain.

She stirred in his arms, nestling closer, her body rubbing intimately against his.

He looked down to see that she still slept, her innocence obvious in her movements, as if she simply wanted to cuddle as closely as possible to him. He let her settle herself, though nearly swore aloud when her leg brushed his swelled manhood.

It would be so easy to have his way with her, and he had no doubt she would submit willingly, and their vows did need to be consummated. So many sound reasons to join with her, and yet one solid reason stopped him.

His wife deserved more.

“Are you all right?”

Her soft voice startled him, as did her sleepy violet eyes. She had barely woken, her eyes still droopy with sleep, her lashes fluttering, fighting to come fully awake.

“You had nightmares.”

He had his answer as to why she was there with him, and it disturbed him. She had sought to comfort him; in a way, to protect him. He stilled suddenly.

She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “You are so very comfortable.”

He groaned inwardly and knew that it was imperative that they separate soon or else he’d be in trouble. But damn she felt so good and so right in his arms. He’d hold her just a few more moments and then let her go. He had to let her go.

She sighed softly, then abruptly stilled.

He realized why. She had felt the swell of him, and no doubt it frightened her.

Surprisingly, she glanced up at him and with a smile said, “We are husband and wife.”

She all but submitted to him. All he had to do was reach out, touch her, kiss her, love her. He had moved his mouth down, nearly covering hers, when the door burst open.

“We have word of Ronan,” Artair said.

Cavan jumped to his feet. He scooped up his wife and deposited her in the bed, then grabbed his shirt and boots and was out the door with his brother.

“The bed isn’t good enough for you,” Artair said, grinning.

“Ronan?” Cavan asked sternly.

His brother’s grin vanished. “A prisoner escaped from a barbarian raid to the east. It may be Ronan.”

Cavan didn’t want to hope, but he prayed. “We ride now,” he ordered, though knew it was his father’s choice.

“Father agrees.”

Cavan almost roared with relief, though his relief was quickly replaced with the anticipation of who would lead the troop of warriors.

Artair settled it for him. “Father wants you to take charge of this mission.”

Cavan halted, looked at his brother and knew. “You convinced him to give me this, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have to convince him.”

His words told Cavan much. His father trusted him, believed in him, and knew him capable and ready to do his duty.

He entered the great hall with Artair, the sun barely breaking the horizon, his father waiting
along with Lachlan and his mother. The men were quick to huddle at the front table and plan decisive action. It was decided that Lachlan would accompany Cavan while Artair remained behind to keep Sinclare land secure.

He turned, reaching for his tankard of hot cider, and was surprised to see his wife at the next table with his mother. She had changed into a simple dark green skirt and yellow blouse. Her long hair was twisted and pinned to her head with a bone comb she favored and he knew had once belonged to her mother. She looked worried, though she smiled at him.

At the moment, he had no time to speak with her, but he would make time before he left. He needed and wanted to; after all, there was always a chance he wouldn’t return.

Horses and warriors were busy preparing for the ride and battle if necessary, and it wasn’t long before it was time for the warriors to leave.

Cavan approached his wife and with a gentle hand to her back guided her to a spot where they could speak alone.

“I do not know how long I will be gone,” he said.

“I will be here praying for you and your brother’s safe return,” she said, though her voice trembled.

He took her into his arms. “You will continue to practice while I am gone, and there’s Champion to train; you will be busy in my absence.”

“I have much to occupy me,” she confirmed, “though I will miss our lessons.”

He smiled. “
Our
lessons?”

She placed a hand to his chest. “You cannot say you haven’t learned something from our lessons?”

He covered her hand with his. “More than I expected.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

Her violet eyes entranced him. They held such truths. “Stay close to the keep while I am gone.”

Honora smiled. “I know how to protect myself.”

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her waist. “I do not need to worry about you when I should be concerned with my mission.”

“Worry not, I will do as you say,” she said softly.

An empty ache hit him hard in the gut. He would miss his wife, miss her lovely violet eyes, the sweet scent of her hair, and—

She startled him with a gentle kiss, and stunned him even more when her arms eased around his neck and her body flattened against his. Her kiss was tentative, searching or beseeching him for more.

As much as he would have loved to oblige her, he was needed elsewhere. Kisses, passion, intimacy would have to wait.

He stepped away from her so quickly that she stumbled. He righted her with a firm hand, nodded, then turned and left, Lachlan following him out the door.

Honora felt her heart lurch, and she hurried outside along with Addie. While her mother-in-law went to her husband’s side, Honora stood alone
watching her husband mount his stallion. He was an impressive sight sitting tall and proud and anxious. She could see it in the tight lines in his face. This was what he had been waiting for, a chance to bring his brother home. She prayed he wouldn’t be disappointed and that he would return safe.

She raised her hand to wave, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was intent on his men and heading out, beginning the search or perhaps rescue of his brother. She dropped her hand and hugged herself around her middle, realizing she was chilled, the air cold, gray clouds hovering overhead.

Not a good day to send men off to battle. Some would declare a gray sky an omen, but she refused to accept it as a portent. She would think of it as a good beginning for them all, for didn’t a rainstorm wash the earth clean and nourish the crops? And didn’t the sun follow, heralding a new day?

Honora smiled and waved to her husband though he didn’t look her way. It didn’t matter and she didn’t do it to be a dutiful wife; she did because she wanted to, because she would honestly miss him and worry over his safe return.

He might not have returned the kiss she’d given him so bravely and hastily, but she wasn’t sorry she had kissed him. She liked kissing him. He tasted good, satisfying, and it made her skin tingle. And she intended to garnish as much courage as possible and kiss him again.

She continued to watch after her husband when he was long gone in the distance and everyone else
had wandered off or returned inside the great hall. She stood there watching until the first raindrop splattered on her head and forced her inside.

Cavan had turned when one of his men hailed him, and while answering the man spied his wife in the distance waving. He knew it was her; he knew it in his heart. She never moved. She remained there becoming a mere speck until finally he could see her no more and she was gone.

The thought chilled and angered him. His only thought should be of the possible battle ahead and, hopefully, the return of his brother, and yet…