“Ye’ll nae,” she began, trying to ignore the warmth that grew deep in her core. He wasn’t smiling now, but instead, he looked at her with a hunger she recognized well. It was primitive, a look she’d seen on many men—sometimes even directed at her—but it had never heated her insides as Arran’s gaze did now.
“Dinnae worry, Skye. Ye are a bonny lass—maybe even the bonniest lass I’ve ever seen. And as much as the thought of spending the night here and exploring every inch of ye tempts me, we must go. And I promise, I willnae touch ye.”
Skye’s cheeks reddened. First from being called the bonniest lass he’d ever seen and then from anger. “I see what ye’re after, then. It’s money! It must be an enormous amount he’s paying ye.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “Me arrangement with Blackwell isnae yer concern. But I’ll remind ye. Ye said ye would come willingly if I kept yer maither safe. Are ye going back on yer word already, Skye? I didnae take ye for a liar.”
“I’ll keep me word, ye dobber. If that’s the way of it, best we be done with it soon.”
Skye wiggled her bottom, trying to settle comfortably into the space between him and the pommel.
He gave the horse a gentle nudge and turned in the direction of Castle MacKeith. The pommel dug into Skye’s stomach, and she wiggled about, trying to get more comfortable. Less than a minute passed, and he pulled on the reins.
“Blasted woman, stop yer squirming!”
Skye craned her head and caught the strained look on his face. “What’s yer problem, Arran? Ye wanted me on yer horse, and I’m on yer horse. I’m tryin’ to nae have the pommel dig its way into me belly.”
But then, her face turned a deep shade of red because she felt the reason for his discomfort against her backside.
Mortified, she quickly turned back around, sat up straight, scooting as far forward in the narrow space as she could. “I’m… I’m comfortable now—er… er…”
Arran laughed. “It’s sweet torture, it is, fair lady! But if we’re to make it to yer home by tomorrow, we need to get moving.”
Skye wanted to snap back and tell him that Castle MacKeith had never been a home to her but then thought it best to hold her tongue.
Arran took her silence as confirmation that she was ready and urged his horse into an easy canter. He tightened his arm around her waist. At first, she gripped the saddle in front of her, worried she would fall, but the easy rocking motion and weariness relaxed her rigid posture, and it wasn’t long before she leaned back into his broad chest.
The trail stayed flat, and thankfully not wet or muddy for a good part of the trip, but the landscape turned rocky and mountainous.
Arran slowed his horse to a walk, then he slid off and led the beast. Too tired now to attempt escape, Skye nodded in the saddle. She scarcely noticed when he swung into the saddle again. She fell into a deep sleep, cradled in his strong arms.
Her hair smelled of mountain heather, and she was soft and pliant in his arms. Colin’s willingness to take Helena back to the village worried him. He was beginning to have an extremely bad feeling about all of this. so he stayed quiet and let her have some peace.
When the moon no longer lit the path before him, Arran stopped his horse in a small clearing. The lack of motion woke Skye, and she sat up and looked around.
“We’ll stop here and rest until dawn.”
Arran slid off the saddle, and Skye followed. But when her feet hit the ground, she gasped in pain, and her legs went out from under her. He caught her before she hit the ground.
“I’ve nae ridden this far in a long time,” she explained, sounding embarrassed.
Arran didn’t reply. He took her by the elbow and helped her over to a wide, flat rock. Then he went to his horse and grabbed a bag and waterskin.
“Here.” He took bread and cheese from the bag, then held the waterskin so she could drink. She gave him a look that might have been gratitude.
Arran pulled his saddle and bedroll from his horse. He left Douglas and Lyle to watch over her, while he watered his horse, then fed him some oats. He hobbled the beast, and left him near a brightly trickling burn, before going to relieve his men. When he returned, he saw Skye sitting next to the rock, curled up and shivering. He untied a blanket from his saddle, walked over and handed it to her.
Reluctantly, she took it. “Do ye nae need this?”
He shook his head. “Nay.”
He propped himself up on the other side of the rock and closed his eyes.
A few minutes passed, and he heard Skye again. This time her teeth were chattering.
“Are ye still cold, lass?”
“A-a ye,” she stammered.
