Alex helped her up, gathering her into his arms. She was shaking so hard, she couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m s-sorry,” she stammered. “I never meant to leave. I wanted Ross to warn Ramsay—“
But he only held her tight, stroking her hair and murmuring that it was all right. “I’ll take you home.”
“Not yet,” she pleaded. “Take me to the cavern. I need Ramsay to be safe.”
Alex gave no answer and she suspected he would ignore her request, forcing her to return to Ross’s house. He took her hand and led her back to the fortress, but when they reached the gates, she was startled that he took a torch and brought her with him again.
At her questioning look, he said, “It’s important to you, isn’t it?”
She nodded, still stunned that he would listen to her. Along the walk, she huddled close to him and his arm remained around her waist. With each step, she drew comfort and strength from him.
Never before had she endured a terror like this one, nearly becoming a prisoner. She knew full well what happened to the captives who were taken by the English. She’d seen Bram’s scarred back, and even Callum had not once spoken a word since his rescue. As a woman, she would have been used and discarded. The thought sent a new wave of fear within her, and she tightened her grip around her husband.
“Do you think he was sent by Harkirk?’ she asked him.
“Undoubtedly. If you were his prisoner, he knows I’d stop at nothing to get you back.” The ruthless tone in his voice made her shiver.
When they reached Father Nolan’s cavern, the fire had died down to coals. There was no sign of Ramsay. Alex brought her near the meagre heat, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I thought you said he would be here.”
She nodded. “He was supposed to come.” But now that he was absent, she wondered whether something had happened to him or whether he’d broken his promise.
Her husband added wood to the furnace and a shower of sparks rose up towards the cavern ceiling, tiny pieces of light in the darkness.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Alex, “for saving me.”
His gaze was stoic, revealing no feelings at all. She didn’t know what he was thinking right now, but she wanted a moment to be in his arms, to take comfort that she was safe, no longer at her captor’s mercy.
Alex drew her against him and touched his forehead to hers. “I’ll kill any man who touches you.”
She rested her hands upon his heart and felt the rapid pulse beneath her fingertips. He was so warm and right now she wanted to forget about what had happened to her. She felt breathless standing so near to him, but he made no move to touch her.
“You gave me pebbles last night,” she whispered, “to remind me of the beginning.”
His expression remained neutral, but he gave a nod. She rested her cheek against his strong chest, her own heartbeat echoing his. Right now she needed him to take away the fear, to drive it out of her mind. Though he’d come for her, saving her from captivity, she needed more from him than an embrace.
She wanted the physical closeness they’d once had, when he’d taken her body beneath his, sending her into the mindless frenzy of lust. But if she dared to offer herself to him, would he turn her away?
“We should return,” he said quietly. “Vanora will wonder what’s happened and I need to know if Ross and Bram found the intruder.”
A bleakness passed over her, though she knew he was right. This wasn’t the time or the place for a coupling. But she needed him so badly right now, to reassure her that she was safe. Her body ached for him, her sensitive flesh growing moist.
And he sensed it. “What is it, Laren?’
She didn’t have the words to say it. But there was only one way to find out if he needed her as badly as she craved him.
Hiswifelethercloak fall to the ground, her blue eyes staring at him as though she wanted to tell him something but was afraid to speak.
And then she reached for him, her lips seeking his. He kissed her, feeling the tension mount higher within him. Nothing could have shaken him more than seeing the intruder try to take his wife. He hadn’t seen the man’s face, but he’d heard Laren scream.
He’d hardly been aware of his actions, but he’d unsheathed his sword, intending to murder the man who had hurt her. She’d cowered upon the ground, curling up with pain.
Even now, her cheek was reddened from where the man had struck her. Alex traced his fingertips over the bruise, wishing he could take it away.
He was fighting the urges that rose up in him, the desire to claim Laren with his body and assert his possession. Her sweet mouth was coaxing him beyond the boundaries of his control, and when her hand moved down to the ties of his trews a thunderous lust rose up.
Her palm cupped him, her long fingers guiding up his erection.
Saints, he didn’t know if he could stand this. He’d meant to court her slowly, to somehow rebuild their marriage so that she would trust him again. But his manhood was roaring with need and his own hands were shaking to keep himself under control.
