They were so close, huddled in the small space as the storm raged up above them. The sound of rain hitting the roof of the tent drown out the harsh sound of his breathing.She turned to her back, and her thigh pressed against his.“I won’t tell you that.I don’t know you, and so I can’t trust you.Not yet.”
Her words feltwrong, somehow. She should trust him.Whydid he think she should trust him?At the moment, he didn’t even trust himself. He felt confused, muddled, as if there were something he just couldn’t remember… “Then you leave me no other choice than to keep you until I find out who you are.” His words were gruff to cover his growing agitation, and he turned to stare at the ceiling again.
She nodded solemnly.“I understand.” At the moment she wasn’t sure shewantedto be anywhere else. She was rather enjoying being close to Ceann, his body radiated a warmth that soon took the chill away and made the tent cozy. She was drawn to him, dangerously so.
What little evening light there had been beneath the thick clouds was fading fast, and now there was only the pounding patter of rain punctuated by rolling thunder and the sudden bright flash of lightning.
Ella lay back on the blanket spread on the ground, looking up at the canvas just over her head as Ceann did. She felt inexplicably snug and safe. She breathed in the scent of rain and lightning and warm skin, mingled with the dusky smell of the oiled cloth and the wool of the blanket.The electricity of the storm so close now overhead made the little hairs on her arms stand up, and she shivered. To think a week agoshe had been home in her own bed, dreaming of all the things life might bring her. Now she was here in a tent in a storm, with a stranger. She glanced over at him.She could just see his profile in the pulsing light. She inched closer so he would be able to hear her over the thunder and rain. She felt his whole body tense. An incredibly powerful body that she was certain could crush her at will.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked softly, near his ear.
He turned his head to look at her, and her heart began to flutter wildly. His lips were only inches from hers and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to lean closer and kiss him. Her pulse raced. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. For a moment she had an almost overpowering urge to stretch her body out along the length of his… to… but of course she couldn’t. Not when she didn’t even know him, not when he thought she was a spy, sent perhaps to tempt his secrets away. If she kissed him, he would have no doubt. It was likely just the overwhelming power and excitement of this storm, driving her to such wild thoughts.
He answered her, still gruff. “We go to my home. Then I’ll see what to do about you.” His eyes narrowed in warning. He turned back to stare at the roof of the tent again.“Iwillhave answers, one way or another.” After a moment he thought of something else. “Do you have any weapons lass?”
“Aye, just my dagger.”
“Give it to me” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust you not to try to stab me while I sleep. Hand it over or I’ll find it myself.”
She reached into the pocket of her gown and handed the dagger to him, raising one eyebrow in amusement. She was stuck in a tent with the most tempting man she had ever seen; stabbing him with a dagger was not the first thing that came to mind.
He took the dagger and tucked it into his belt. “You can have it back in the morning.”
Long minutes passed and they were both silent. The storm had passed directly overhead and now was slowly beginning to fade; the flashes of light fewer, the thunder claps not so loud and sudden. Beside him the lass stretched and sighed. Her thigh still pressed against his in the cramped quarters of the little tent. His body throbbed; he still ached to pull her into his arms. Had to clench his hands into tight fists to keep himself from reaching for her, pulling her closer, tasting her… Surly she was sent by the very devil; but he could not let himself be tempted by her. No doubt she was a virgin and if he took her an angry father would show up demanding an alliance and half his cattle and gold or some such nonsense, and he would be honor-bound to wed her. And that was only one of the many scenarios he could imagine of why she had been left in his path. No, he would find out who she was and send her back to wherever she came from. And whoever had sent her would pay as well, because the more he thought about it the more it seemed the only explanation. Who would have known he had gone to check on his holdings at the southern border of MacKenzie lands? Almost anyone. All the highland clans had informants to keep abreast of their rivals. It was part of their way of life, as much as stealing each other’s cattle and raiding at the borders. But who would be so cunning? To leave a woman in his path, one so beautiful and so sensual no man could resist her; perhaps to go to his bed and to learn his secrets under the guise of passion, or to trick him into an unfavorable alliance. But he was not just any man, and he would not be fooled. He was sworn to protect his people, even over his own wants and needs.Especiallyover his own wants and needs. He heard her breath eventually slow to the even rhythm of sleep. He relaxed a bit, but rest eluded him for most of the night, as he lay awake pondering this strange situation he now found himself in, and battling the raging primal instincts of his warrior’s body, to lay claim to the woman beside him. But he would never allow himself that pleasure, even if it killed him to keep his hands from her.
Ella opened her eyes to the soft glow of early dawn streaming through the now-open end of the tent. She was alone, but she could hear the voices of the men outside as they broke camp. Her mindrecalled the evening before, lying next to a man she could not touch, dared not touch. And he had been honorable and hadn’t touched her either, though no one could have stopped him had he wanted to. Did he not find her at all attractive?God, Ella, are you actually complaining because the man didn’t force himself on you? Well, he could have at leastlookedat her, while she was lying there wanting so much to touch him. She crawled out of the tent and stood, brushing dirt and leaves from her simple linen riding gown.What she wouldn’t give for a comb! Yesterday’s wind had nearly tied her hair in knots. Damn Malcolm, he could have left her satchel!
The scent of rain-dampened earth was strong and a mist still hung in the air, but the sky had cleared to a light blue, glowing bright where the sun was rising behind the heathered hills to the east.She glanced around.Ceann was diligently tending to his horse with his back to the tent, and very obviously trying to ignore her presence.The other men were sitting on logs and eating a light meal. She gave them a warm smile, and they smiled back, unabashedly looking her over. She went over to speak with them, to at least learn their names.
They shared their breakfast of oatcake and dried venison with her, and spoke only a little, though they were not exactly unfriendly toward her. There was Gregor, who looked to be the eldest of them, with his dark brown hair and beard peppered with gray. And the others were Angus, Ian, and James. Ian had a fierce scar across his cheek. Angus and James had thick beards which hid their faces. She gently prodded the four men for information, but they were carefully tight-lipped, and she soon gave up. She went over to Ceann and held out her hand palm up. “You said I could have my dagger back in the morning.”
“So I did.” He slid the knife from his belt and handed it back to her. It was warm from his body, and she closed her hand around it before placing it back in her pocket. Before she could turn and walk away, he grabbed her by the waist and tossed her onto the back of his horse, swinging up to sit behind her. The other men had mounted too, and she saw that the entire make-shift camp had already been packed away with incredible efficiency.
Soon they were moving at a brisk pace, the sun rising bright now over the tops of the hills.They had left the cover of the trees and rode through the center of a wide glen, deep green, with hills rising sharply on either side. The rugged beauty of the highlands never failed to take her breath away. She leaned back against Ceann’s iron hard chest, the motion of the horse rocking their bodies together in perfect unison. The smell of horse and leather and peaty earth kicked up by flying hooves could not distract her from the clean musky scent of the man she pressed against to keep from falling out of the saddle.How could a man smell so good?
“We’re nearly there now”, Ceann muttered absently after a few hours of riding in silence, though she hadn’t asked.They crested a hill and as she looked across to the next rise her breath caught in her throat.She had never been here before, but she had seen several sketches of the castle standing boldly on the hill. Excitement coursed through her and she leaned forward in the saddle: it was Tulloch. Malcolm had indeed left her in the hands of the very man to take her where she needed to go.Now her work would begin. A part of her could not wait to prove her worth to the people who had taken her in as a child and raised her as their own. Another part of her, a more secret part, reveled in the prospect of a bit of adventure. She watched the castle grow larger as they rode toward it, and she wondered anew what lay within that was so precious. Something so powerful and mysterious that she had been sent here at great risk to retrieve it. And even she was not allowed to know what it was. At least not yet.
“You’ll know when you find it”, they had said.“It is the most beautiful and precious thing in the world, something you’ll want to have above all else.”
“And what do I do when I find it?”she had asked.
“Have faith that you will know in your heart what is right.”
They were ever talking in riddles. It seemed there was always a higher reason for any answer, if she was even given an answer that made sense.More often than not she was told she already knew, or that she would learn in time. She had been continually frustrated as a child, especially when Aunt Esme told her to go sit quietly and lookwithin herself for the answer to her question. She had never been good at sitting quietly; there was too much else to do. She had always been one to follow her heart and its whims, and her heart wasn’t always wont to follow a path other than its own. But this she would do, this shewantedto do. To fail now would be a blow to her pride, and she did not want to disappoint the people she loved.
They rode on towards the castle stronghold, which rose up magnificently in front of them, its high towers flanking the substantial keep. Surrounded by strong walls on three sides and a pristine loch on the fourth, it looked to be impenetrable, and indeed had been for its many years. Sprawled out before the castle walls was a sizable village, with smoke wafting up from the chimneys of the rows of cottages.Beyond the cottages, there were fertile fields, rich with spring crops. Even from a distance, she could smell the acrid scent of burning peat, and hear the myriad sounds of village life. A shout went up as they were spotted, “The Laird returns!”
Ella sucked in a breath, the sound of which was thankfully drowned out by the clatter of hooves on the hard-packed road.The Laird. She had known that Ceann was leading the other four men who were with him, but she hadn’t even considered that he could betheLaird of Tulloch. A very powerful man, then. No wonder he carried himself like a king. She turned to look up at him.
“You are Laird.”
“Aye, that I am.”
She felt her stomach sink a little as she realized that the castle, and everything in it, belonged to him. Would she have to deceive him?Steal from him? God, she didn’t want to.
