The Highlander's Bride Trouble (22 page)

“Ride!” he commanded her and slapped the flank of her mare. It was an icy tone, one
that had no room for disobedience.

Except she had not promised him obedience.

He turned and pulled his sword, but there were more shapes in the night. They surrounded
him, crouching low.

Nareen pulled the dagger from her belt and slid off the mare. She patted her flank
so the animal would move away.

“Are ye mad, woman?” Saer demanded of her.

Someone lunged at him, and he lifted his sword, swinging it in a wide circle above
his head before bringing it down in a slicing motion across the body of the man. There
was a dull thud, and then another, as he dropped to the ground in two pieces.

The scent of blood filled the air, turning her stomach, but she tightened her grip
as one of the remaining attackers turned on her.

“Here, pretty lass… I’ll give ye that kiss ye were wanting…”

Saer attacked, raising his sword high, but the man behind him lifted a dagger and
made a lunge toward his unprotected back.

Nareen dove under his raised arm, bringing her right arm up to lodge against the attacker’s
plunging hand as her brother had taught her. She cried out as her forearm took the
force of impact, but grabbed the man’s bent elbow on the inside and pushed forward
with all her might. The dagger was inches from her face as she twisted and dropped
him on his arse.

There was a clang as swords met behind her, but she didn’t dare risk turning around
to look. The man at her feet snarled and struggled to rise.

“I’ll give ye a lot more than a kiss when I get ye on yer back, bitch!”

Gaining his feet, he opened his arms, intending to grab her. She stood her ground,
letting him get close enough to think victory was his before she sank the dagger into
his neck. He gurgled, blood spurting out from the neck wound to coat her hand.

But she held steady, pulling the blade back so the wound was deep and wide. And fatal.

He convulsed before collapsing to the ground. The meager light shone on the four bodies.
Nareen looked at them all to make sure none of them moved, before looking over at
Saer.

Saer was watching her with a hard expression. It chilled her, but not because she
feared he’d report her to the church. No, it was far more personal. He was likely
glad she had not agreed to wed that morning.

“Who taught ye how to do that, Nareen?”

There was a body lying behind Saer, but he was focused on the one at her feet.

“I warned ye”—she wiped the blade of her dagger on the dead man—“I was nae the right
choice for wife. I knew ye’d disapprove of me nature once ye were tired of the challenge.”

“Disapprove?” he questioned. “Is that what ye think?”

“I know ye do.” She drew in a deep breath and tried to banish the lament attempting
to strangle her. “It’s unnatural, but I am nae sorry me brother taught me.”

“Yer brother, I should have guessed. Kael is a man who puts sense first, and it makes
sense no’ to leave ye helpless. The only daughter of a laird can be a coveted thing.”

He grunted before kneeling down to inspect the body. When he stood back up, he sent
her another hard look. “Did yer father know about those lessons?”

“No. He’d have forbidden them, since I am a woman.”

“I begin to see why Kael promised ye free choice in who ye wed. He has never treated
ye like a female.”

“He sent me to Ruth, because he thought he’d made an error and it was time for me
to be mentored by other women.”

She thought she had let the betrayal go, but it still burned inside her.

“So that is why ye stayed with that brat, Abigail, so long.” He wiped his sword on
the fallen man and slid it back into the sheath strapped to his back. “Ye do nae trust
yer brother to honor his word.”

“He will.”

But she was not completely sure. That hard truth sliced through her feelings, leaving
a red-hot trail of disappointment inside her. It felt like the ground was crumbling
beneath her feet.

“Ye cannae approve, I understand, but I could nae ride away with ye outnumbered.”

Saer reached out and cupped her cheek when she looked away, and brought her attention
back to his face. “The only thing I disapprove of is ye spent the day plying a needle
when ye could have been training some of the younger lads on how to use a dagger.”

“I do nae understand…”

“Ye will,” he stated firmly. “On MacLeod land, being productive is more important
than anything else. As ye can see, we will either grow strong or die at the hands
of our neighbors. Since ye know how to use that dagger, ye can teach the skill. That’s
more important than making a shirt.”

“Even if I’m a woman?” she asked, incredulous. “Won’t the Church have something to
say about that?”

“Father Peter will keep his peace, or I’ll remind him that his church will be ransacked,
along with the rest of the castle, when it falls. We need God’s grace and strong retainers
to hold our land.”

He let out a whistle. His stallion answered with a snort. “Forgive me, Nareen, but
it seems I cannae indulge either of us in this nighttime ride. It was a foolish risk,
for I know well the Comyn think to take me land by slitting me throat. No doubt they
have noticed I enjoy nighttime rides.”

“Aye,” she agreed. “Ye must no’ be predictable. Yer enemies will use it against ye.”

He stroked the neck of his stallion, looking like he was saying good-bye to the beast.
“Aye. ’Tis time I acted more like the laird I am. Baruch has been badgering me for
months to stop taking off without an escort. But I do nae care for it any more than
ye do.”

“And ye came out tonight for me,” she said quietly.

Saer shook his head. “And meself, lass. I wanted to please ye, but I should have thought
the matter through.”

“We both should have. I was raised to know the dangers of leaving the Grant castle
alone.”

He nodded and mounted. “As I keep telling ye, lass, we have much in common.”

“Aye, we’re both reckless,” she replied and heard him chuckle. “I’m sure Baruch will
have something to say about that, which is nae pleasing.” She went after her mare
and mounted.

“I find ye pleasing, Nareen Grant.” His tone was strong and sure. “Every single thing
I know about ye. Make no mistake about it.”

She locked stares with him and felt her resolve crumbling. For just a moment, they
were so alike, it felt as though she might trust in their commonalities.

But she was still so unsure.

On the ride back to the MacLeod castle, a heavy sense of reality was weighing down
on her shoulders.

Why was life so often cruel?

There was much to crave in Saer, so was it not the cruelest of things to fear binding
herself to him?

***

“Ye’re bleeding.”

Nareen moved closer to Saer. Once they were back inside his chamber, there was enough
light to see what the night had hidden. She reached up and cupped his shoulder to
turn him, so she might get a closer look at his back. Along his right shoulder blade,
his shirt and jerkin were sliced open several inches, the edges stained dark with
blood.

“This needs stitching.”

He chuckled at the horror in her voice. “Ye have a fair command of a sewing needle,
so Gitta tells me.”

Saer walked farther into the chamber and took his sword off. She heard him draw in
a stiff breath as he moved his injured shoulder.

“Ye should have told me.”

“Why?” he asked as he sat down and unlaced his boots. “Besides, it was me own fault.”

“I wanted to go.”

“Aye.” He stepped out of his boots and began to unbuckle his kilt. He held his tongue
while stripping out of his clothing.

She was shamed, doubly so when she looked back at the wound on his shoulder. He went
out onto the
terrazzino
, and she heard the water splashing down onto the stone as she found the sewing basket
and pulled a needle from it.

But she needed other things too.

She turned and left the chamber, hurrying down the steps on her way to the kitchen.
Many of those who worked in the kitchens also slept there. The large hearths still
had embers glowing red to help her see as she rummaged around, looking for what she
needed.

“Who’s there?” a woman asked as she raised her head from her pallet in one of the
corners.

“Worry nae. I’ve found what I need,” Nareen assured her.

Nareen gathered up her supplies and hurried back into the keep.

She heard Saer cursing the moment she touched the first step. He snarled viciously
in Gaelic before almost running into her on his way down the stairs.

He jerked to a halt and stared at her as though he could not believe his eyes.

“Where the devil did ye go?” he demanded, his tone harsh and full of accusation. He
had only his kilt on, the pleats in disorder.

“The kitchen, for whisky and—” She realized why he was cursing. “Ye thought I left?”

“Of course I did, woman!”

There was a pounding of footsteps behind her, and a flood of light as several retainers
converged on them with torches.

“What goes on here?” demanded one of them.

“Naught,” Saer responded. “Return to yer posts.”

The retainers were already responding to his command when one of them stopped and
pushed the torch he held closer to Nareen.

“Her hands are covered in blood,” he roared.

Swords were pulled as the retainer reached for her, but Saer slid in front of her,
blocking the man with his body.

Unfortunately, the retainers behind them clearly saw his shoulder.

“The laird’s back is sliced clean open!”

Everything in her hands went flying as the retainers yanked her away from Saer. He
growled, but they flooded in front of him, pushing him back with their sheer numbers
as more and more people came running to investigate what the disturbance was.

“Christ’s cock! She did nae slice me!” Saer roared. His curse drew gasps from the
women and silenced the retainers. “Now clear the path and give me back me woman.”

The retainers standing in front of her didn’t want to obey. They parted reluctantly,
allowing Saer to see her.

He drew in a long breath. “We met with some Comyn in the woods. The blood on her hands
is theirs.”

Doubtful looks were cast her way. Some took to stroking their beards. Saer bent down
to retrieve one of the things she’d taken from the kitchen. He looked at the jug for
a moment and nodded.

“Scotch. Exactly what I need.”

The women began to search the floor and collected the other items Nareen had dropped.

“Good night,” Saer said, dismissing them all before standing aside so Nareen might
precede him up the stairs.

For Nareen, the first step felt impossible to take. Everyone stood still, watching
to see what she would do. Saer made a low sound, and she moved, her first steps jerky.

“She’s got a dagger in her belt…”

“Its blade is stained…”

The whispers followed her up the stairs, until Saer shut the chamber door.

She turned on him. “Ye did nae trust me.”

He frowned at her. “I suppose…”

“Ye did nae.”

“Why are ye so angry, woman? Ye’re the one who does nae want to trust me. Why do ye
demand what ye will nae give?”

She was shaking. “Me reasons are well founded, thought out, and rational.”

“So was me reasoning that ye had taken the opportunity to ride off into the night,
because ye’ve made it plain ye are no’ content.”

“What do ye expect when ye bring me home tied about ye like a prize?”

He was looming over her, but she wasn’t going to back down. She rose up onto her toes
to get her face closer to his, but it wasn’t enough. She lifted her hand and poked
him in the center of his bare chest.

He exploded, roaring before capturing the back of her head and kissing her.

She tried to escape, but he followed her, his mouth hot and demanding against hers.
She tried to turn her head, and he gripped her nape. The kiss was punishing and sent
a flood of desire through her.

Nareen let out a growl. It was low and more primitive than any sound she could recall
willingly making. It came up from inside her, from the center of the swirling vortex
of desire he stirred up. She reached for him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and holding
him in place as she thrust her tongue up into his mouth.

“Ye’re mine…” he insisted against her open mouth.

Her need for him was mad, like someone had spilled oil and touched a flame to it.
The heat was searing, and the only relief was to reach for what she craved.

She grabbed his kilt, pulling it up to reveal his cock. The fabric frustrated her,
drawing a hiss from her lips before she was able to wrap her fingers around his rigid
length and satisfaction filled her.

He grabbed her skirt and yanked it up, letting the night air brush her thighs before
he hooked them and lifted her off her feet.

She gasped, losing hold of his length. He drove her back against the wall, pressing
her to it with his wide chest.

“Mine…” he repeated as he spread her thighs wide with his hips. “I’m going to make
sure everyone knows it again and again, until ye admit it.”

She didn’t care what he said, only worried he wouldn’t satisfy the need tearing her
apart. She wrapped her arms around him, straining toward him as she felt his cock
nudging the folds of her slit.

It was hard, and she craved more of it. “Yes…”

He bared his teeth at her, and she snapped at him. His chest shook with something
that might have been a rumble of amusement, but he thrust into her, stealing away
every thought she had. There was only his hard length and the motion of his hips as
he drove it in and out of her.

She was ready to climax, but he denied her a quick release. Instead, he held her still,
controlling the speed of their coupling. She jerked and strained toward him, but he
pinned her to the wall with his chest, making it impossible for her to gain the hard
pressure she craved.