He had no idea what the hellleather-wannabejeans were, but he knew for a fact he was ready to turn her over his knee and redden her stubborn arse for her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to his chest. “Ye have but one choice. Wear the plaid and we keep walking ’til we reach the keep. Refuse the plaid and we bed down. Right here. And I shall see to it ye are kept suitably warm throughout the night with the heat of my body.” He tightened his other arm around her waist and molded his hardness into her soft, inviting curves. “Which shall it be?”
The very tip of her tongue raced across her bottom lip. The gold flecks in her green eyes flared just as they had the first time they had enjoyed each other. A long tense moment passed. Long enough for Ronan to hope Mairi was about to choose him.
“Give me the damn plaid.”
Victory was bittersweet as he shook out the cloth once more and snugged it securely around her shoulders. “There now.” He thumped the brim of her hooded raincoat then affectionately tapped the tip of her nose. “Is that not better?”
“Fan-freakin-tastic.” Jerking away, she stomped a few feet then her boots snagged in a hillock of sedge. She stumbled and fell face forward into the tangle of frost-covered grass. “Dammit all to hell! I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.”
Ronan clamped his mouth shut and held his breath. Lore a’ mercy,if he dared laugh at her now, she would surely kill him. “Be ye all right?”
“I am fine, dammit.” She floundered to a sitting position, yanked off her rubber boots, and threw them across the hillside.
“Ye canna travel in sock feet through the Highlands in the dead of winter.”
“I don’t care. My feet might freeze but at least the grip of my toes through my wool socks will keep me off my ass.” She yanked the thick woven socks all the way up to her knees.
A heavy sigh escaped him. What a woman. His own fiery hellcat. A gust of wind shoved against his back, urging his attention to the darkening sky. He scowled upward. They best get moving. A winter storm was coming. The oncoming weather made up his mind. Before Mairi realized what was going on, he scooped her up and draped her over his shoulder.
“What the hell are you doing?” She thumped a fist between his shoulder blades and squirmed in his grasp. “Put me down! Now!”
He smacked her ass. “Still yerself. Ye canna walk in sock feet and ye canna walk in yer boots. A storm approaches. We’ve no more time to tarry.”
She elbowed the back of his head and pummeled his back as she twisted and tried to slide down his chest. “You better put me down now or I’ll—”
He smacked her ass again. “Ye’ll what? Freeze to death in winter’s first snow because ye are so damned hardheaded ye willna see reason? Still yerself. Now.” He couldn’t resist a smile. His woman’s fine round arse bounced against the side of his head with every step. Was there any better way to walk across the Highlands?
* * *
Mairi snuggled closerto the wall of warmth pressed against her. Without opening her eyes, she hitched the blanket higher around her neck. Her room was cold tonight. Someone must’ve shut the stairwell door again.
A lonely, high-pitched yowl shattered her semiconscious state. She jerked bolt upright and looked around. Reality crashed in with a vengeance, making her sag forward and rub the heels of her hands on her eyes. Dammit. She wasn’t in her room. This was thirteenth-century Scotland and she was wedged between a boulder and Ronan. What a rock and a hard place.She shuddered with a weary sigh.
“Lie down, lass.” Ronan pulled her back down against his chest and nuzzled a kiss against the top of her head. “The storm should be spent by the time the sun rises. Lie down and keep warm.”
It was then she noticed the sounds all around them. Freezing rain pelted every possible surface sounding like tiny pebbles falling through a sieve. The wind shushed overhead like a mother quieting a child. A stronger gust moaned through the cluster of trees, setting their icy branches to crackling. Pine boughs, heavy with winter’s kiss, bent low over the boulder, sheltering them beneath a frozen wall of green. Ronan had tucked them up against the embankment of limestone centered in a stand of pines. The wall of rock paired with the thick branches of the trees made a fair shelter against the howling wind, freezing rain, and snow.
“I’m still mad at you,” she said while curling up tighter against him. His welcoming warmth enveloped her better than any fire. In spite of the anger and hurt simmering in her heart, a calming sense of completeness filled her. Dammit. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed him. “I haven’t forgiven you,” she hurried to add.
“Aye, lass. I know.” A deep sigh shifted him beneath her cheek.
“And I’m going back as soon as I’m done here.”
“Aye, my love. I remember ye saying as much.”
She spread her fingers across the hard muscular ridges laddered down his taut stomach, trying to decide which was worse: freezing to death or aching for the very man who had deceived her.
“Ye must know I never meant to hurt ye,” he said in a low rasping whisper. His steady heartbeat thudded beneath her cheek. Or was it her own pounding heart drowning out the muffled sounds of the wintry storm?
“I thought you were different.” She prayed he wouldn’t hear the pitiful squeak in her voice. She’d been so vulnerable to him. How had he weaseled his way into her heart so fast?
He shifted back a bit and gently lifted her face to his. “I am different. I love ye with such a fury that it frightens me.”
“Please don’t hurt me again,” she whispered. A soft sob released her tears. She squinted and tried to pull back from him.
He caught her closer and prevented her from turning away. “Lore a mighty, my dear sweet love. Can ye ever find it in yer heart to forgive me?” His voice broke. He slid his thumb through the trail of her tears then caught her tighter against his chest. “Forgive me,” he whispered into her hair. “I beg ye.”
She slid her arms around him, pulling closer until she melted into him. His hand slid down her back, across her hip, and down to her thigh. As she raised her mouth to his, he pulled her leg across his body. “Forgive me,” he repeated, his ragged whisper hot across her lips.
