“Dinnae let that get around. I have a reputation tae maintain.” He kissed her again, soft and lingering. “But fer ye? I’ll be whatever ye need me tae be.”
She rested her forehead against his, breathing him in—salt and leather and something uniquely him. “What I need is fer ye tae hold me.”
He shifted them both until they were lying on the bed, her tucked against his uninjured side with his arm wrapped around her. “I need ye tae ken that this,” he swallowed hard. “Meant somethin’ tae me, Claricia.”
She tilted her head to look up at him. “Truly?”
“Aye.” No hesitation. No doubt. “As real as anythin’ I’ve ever felt.”
“Even if I cannae forgive ye fer Logan?”
“Aye.” His hand stroked through her hair.
She thought about that—about the impossibility of what they were building together. About how wanting him didn’t erase the past but somehow made the future feel possible anyway.
She should argue. Should point out all the reasons it was madness. But exhaustion was pulling at her, and his heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, and for the first time since leaving Kintail, she felt something she’d thought she’d lost forever.
Completely safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“The bodies are gone, me jarl.”
Erik stared at the rocky outcropping where less than a day ago, six men had fallen. Where blood had painted the stones black in the failing light.
Now there was nothing. Not even a stain.
“All of them?” His voice came out flat, controlled in the way that made his warriors shift nervously.
“Aye, me jarl.” Bjorn crouched near where one of the attackers had died, his fingers tracing disturbed gravel. “Someone cleaned it. Thorough-like. Even dragged away the stones with too much blood on ‘em.”
Nae common bandits.
Erik’s jaw tightened. “When?”
“Had tae be last night,” Aksel said quietly from where he’d been examining the path leading away from the ambush site. “After we got back tae the castle. Before dawn.” His pale eyes met Erik’s, and something grim flickered there. “Which means they were watchin’. Kent exactly when tae move.”
Erik turned slowly, surveying the landscape with a warrior’s eye. The rocky coastline. The scattered boulders. The dense thickets inland. A hundred places to hide. To watch. To wait.
“They’re on Skye. Bloodyreivers.”
“Aye.” Aksel’s voice carried the weight of too many battles, too many betrayals witnessed. “Question is, how many raiders? And who sent ‘em?”
I’ll find them. And when I dae, they’ll beg fer me tae give them the spreadin’ eagle.
“We go back,” Erik said abruptly, already moving toward the horses. “Now.”
“Me jarl?” Bjorn straightened, confusion flickering across his young face. “But we havenae searched the?—”
“There’s naethin’ tae find.” Erik swung into his saddle with sharp efficiency. “And every moment we’re out here is anothermoment me wife’s alone in that castle with whoever helped thosereiversdisappear.”
Understanding dawned in Aksel’s expression. “Ye think they’ll try again.”
“Ikenthey will.” Erik gathered his reins, his knuckles white. “And next time, I might nae be there tae stop it.”
The thought alone made something cold and vicious coil in his gut. Last night he’d held her while she slept, felt her heartbeat against his chest, breathed in the scent of her hair and marveled that she washis.
Nay. Dinnae think about that now.
