By the way he gritted his teeth, she assumed the feeling wasn’t mutual. That he was obviously not looking forward to being in close proximity to her put a distinct bounce in her step as she walked away.
Just a kiss, ha! She’d never thought she’d see the day, but Gregor MacGregor, the most feared archer in the Highlands, was scared—of her. He was fighting the inevitable with everything he had, but it wouldn’t be enough. She knew that as well as he did, although he wasn’t ready to admit it yet. But he would. It might take a few more of those “just” kisses to prove it to him, but what was between them was special. For the first time, Cate felt as if her dreams were truly within reach.
Ten
Gregor watched her flounce away and wondered what the hell had just happened. He looked around the practice yard, expecting to see trees unearthed, crates turned over, and hay scattered all over the place. All signs of the maelstrom that had just knocked him off his feet. Maelstrom Cate.
What had come over him? This was Caitrina.LittleCaitrina. The lass he was supposed to be responsible for. The lass he was supposed to protect. From the beginning, he’d felt a strange protectiveness toward her, but that sure as hell didn’t include nearly ravishing her in the courtyard.
What could he have been thinking to kiss her like that? He hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. He’d been too busy feeling—bloody incredible, as it turned out. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. He’d never lost control like that. He didn’t lose control. And sure as hell not from a kiss.
The worst part was that she knew it, and thought it meant something.
It meant something, all right. It meant he wanted to take her to his bed and swive her senseless, not marry her. But as he couldn’t do the first without the second, he was going to have to pretend that kiss had never happened.
As if that were possible, when every time he looked at her he’d be thinking of how sweet her mouth had tasted, how silky her tongue had been sliding against his, how tight her body had felt under his hands, how firm her breasts had been, and how she’d made all those eager, breathy gasps in his ear as she’d rubbed against him.Wantonly.
Don’t think about it.
Right. It was all he could think about. Kissing her had been an even bigger mistake than he’d feared. A little damaged womanly pride on her part was nothing compared to the torture he’d be suffering until he could return to Bruce.
Stalking across the yard, he ducked into the armory to retrieve his bow. He stood there looking at it for a moment before picking up a throwing spear instead. He’d been idle from warfare for too long. That was his problem. Once he was back on the battlefield, he would forget all about Cate and her madness-inducing kisses and concentrate on what he did best: eliminating targets and seeing the man whom he’d come to believe in more than any other secure on his throne.
Gregor might have joined the Guard to get away from Isobel and prove himself more than a “pretty” face, but he’d stayed because of Robert Bruce. It was Bruce he believed in, Bruce he fought for, and Bruce whom he never wanted to fail.
There wouldn’t be another disappointment like Berwick.
But he wasn’t ready for his bow yet. If anything, he was more distracted than when he’d arrived, damn it.
He cursed and was about to step out of the armory when a man blocked the doorway.
“What the hell was that about?” John asked.
For a moment, Gregor thought his brother was referring to the kiss. But realizing that was only his own guilt at work, he forced the instinctive defenses that had risen back down. “Perhaps I should be asking you that question? What did you think you were doing with Cate out there?”
John’s eyes narrowed. “What did it look like? I was training her.”
“It looked like more than training to me. It looked like you were thinking about kissing her.”
John’s eyes sparked dangerously. But Gregor didn’t heed the warning. His younger brother was a good fighter, but Gregor was one of the best.
“So what if I was? She’s a cute girl.”
This time it was Gregor who threatened. He stepped closer to his brother, his arms tensing and flexing for a fight. She wasn’t a girl, and she wasn’t cute. She was more than that. “You aren’t going to deny it?”
“Why should I?”
“Because she’s our responsibility, damn it. She’s under our protection. Taking advantage of her like that is wrong.”
“Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?”
Gregor threw a fist at his chin, which John deftly blocked. The follow-up blow to his ribs, however, he did not, and it landed with a satisfying thud. Satisfaction wasn’t long, though, as John recovered quickly and retaliated with a blow to Gregor’s side. After a few more exchanges of fists, an elbow, and a knee, they were both bloody, bruised, and breathing heavily.
Gregor felt better already. This was just what he needed. “Stay away from her, John. I’ll be taking over her ‘training’ for now. She’s not for you.”
“Then who is she for? One of the men you’ve been writing to? Have you found her a suitable husband yet?”
Gregor gritted his teeth, not sure whether he wanted to answer or throw another punch. “Nay, not yet.”
