She retraced her steps through the trees, feeling better about her adventure with each stride. She might not have all the answers, but at least she knew her husband was not leaving to be with another woman. And assuming no one paid undue attention to her absence, he would never know about her wee excursion.
As she picked her way through the trees, Christina felt a prickle of disquiet. A prickle she attributed to the eerie stillness of the forest. Quickening her step, she could just make out the edge of the tree line when the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. Someone was …
Before she could turn around, she was grabbed from behind and pulled harshly against a rock-hard chest. Icy panic washed over her. She opened her mouth to scream, but he clasped a hand over her mouth and whispered in her ear, “I wouldn’t advise it,wife. Not when I have my hands so close to that lovely neck of yours.”
Her heart stopped, then jumped again. Cold and hard as steel, his voice was without mercy. Any relief she might have felt to discover that the man who held her was her husband died under the terrifying prospect of his rage.
She’d never faced the warrior who struck fear across the Highlands, but she sensed that was about to change.
The moment of shock upon discovering that it was his wife who was spying on them was replaced by almost blind rage.
Disbelief. Fear. The possibility of betrayal. The divergent threads of emotions wound together, twisting and swirling inside him in a torrential storm just waiting to be unfurled. Every inch of his body strained against the pressure. His blood pounded, his skin flared hot, his heart hammered in his ears. Only the softness of the body pressed against his and the knowledge of how easily he could crush her held him in check.
Tor met Campbell’s gaze, saw him shake his head, and knew that at least she was alone. With a sharp nod, he gave the silent order for his men to leave.
When they were gone, he flipped her around and, holding her shoulders, forced a deep breath from his lungs. He stared into her dark eyes, trying to ignore the tinge of guilt he felt to see the white imprint of his hand on her mouth and the fear in her wide gaze.
She should be scared. Very scared.
“You’d better have a damned good excuse for spying on me.”
Her eyes widened even more. “I wasn’t spying on you. How could you think that?”
He didn’t want to, but damn it, he couldn’t ignore the possibility. “Maybe it’s the fact that I find you hiding in a tree watching me. Or the fact that you followed me. Or that I instructed you to stay out of matters that do not concern you.” His jaw hardened and his gaze sharpened. “Or maybe it’s that I recall the treachery that brought us together.” She flinched as if he’d struck her. She tried to pull away, but he wasn’t done. He leaned closer, forcing her gaze to his. “Did someone ask you to follow me, Christina?”
Despite the obvious threat, her little chin jutted up. He stood a hand over six feet and outweighed her by at least double, had killed hundreds of men on the battlefield, and was one of the most feared warriors in the land, but she looked at him as if he were smaller than a midge for the mere suggestion.
“Of course not. I would never betray you.” Everything about her voice and expression said that she told the truth. “I hoped you knew by now—no matter how our marriage started—that you could trust me.”
He trusted few, and none completely. Trust got people killed. “If you are not spying for someone, then explain how you came to be here alone in a tree.”
She bit her lip, color staining her pale cheeks. “I was in the village, taking some of Cook’s honey cakes to wee Iain, who’s sick—they’re his favorite, you know”—he didn’t—“when I saw Lady Janet and decided to follow her.”
The tic at his temple throbbed. She acted as if she’d done nothing more than gone for a pleasant stroll rather than ignored every instruction he’d given her. He took a step toward her, tightening his fists, fighting for patience. “So am I to understand that the reason I find you here is because in a fit of jealousy you decided to follow the woman you thought I was bedding, even after I told you that I was not, into the countryside …alone?”His voice shook with anger. When he thought of what could have happened to her … it made him damned near lose his mind. “God’s wounds, Christina, do you know the danger you could have been in?” Many of the possible consequences flashed through his head, including an image of her with that torn gown. “You promised me you would not leave the castle without a guard.”
He’d backed her up against a tree, and because she had nowhere left to retreat with him looming over her, she nodded with an apologetic wince.
She was too close. He could smell her sweet, flowery scent, and it stirred his anger hotter. Did she always have to smell so damned good? It must be some cruel test of restraint intended to drive him half-crazed.
“You make it sound so foolish, but what else was I to think? You tell me nothing about where you are going for days on end, yet it was clear that you had confided in your leman.”
Because he was trying to protect her, damn it. He didn’t want her anywhere near this. It chilled his blood to think what danger any inadvertent knowledge of Bruce’s guard could put her in. This was treason, and the fact that she was a woman would not stop Edward of England. “Janet cooks for us, that is all. I asked her and she agreed—without asking questions.”
But Christina ignored the jibe. “What is going on out here anyway?” she asked, wrinkling her tiny nose. He shot her a warning glance that she did not heed. “Who are these men, and why are you training them in secret?”
The cold in his bones could only be described as fear. “You will return to the castle, forget everything you have seen, and never come here again. Do you understand?” He was shouting. No one made him lose control like this. She shrank back, but he took her arm and forced her to look at him. The pounding in his heart would not subside. He wanted to shake her until she listened to him. “You are to never ask me about this again.”
Only inches separated them. He’d never tried to intimidate a woman with his size, but if it made her see the seriousness, then he would do whatever he had to. By all that was holy, she should be terrified. But it seemed his wee wife trusted him more than she should. Right now, he didn’t trust himself.
A mutinous look crossed her delicate features. “Perhaps I shall ask Sir Alex,” she said, meeting his black gaze without flinching.Hell, she’d recognized the bloody Englishman. “Or Lachlan MacRuairi.” She gave him a coy smile. “He said if I ever needed—”
Tor snapped. He pulled her hard against his chest, a dark emotion washing over him. “MacRuairi is a viper. Stay away from him.”
Eyes wide, she nodded. Whatever that black emotion was, she saw it—or heard it in his voice—and fear quieted any thoughts of argument.
“I didn’t mean it,” she said, her mouth trembling. “I will never mention it again, if that is what you wish.”
He froze. What was he doing? She was looking at him as if he might strike her. God’s wounds, not all men were like her father. He would never hurt her, he only wanted to protect her. It was just that she’d made him …jealous.
But he didn’t get jealous.
His chest was so tight he couldn’t breathe. He pulled her toward him, knowing it was the only way to get relief. He couldn’t fight it. She was too close, and the temptation was too strong.
Their eyes met; he was drowning. “God, what do you want from me?”
Her eyes widened at the raw emotion in his voice. But before she could answer, he bent his head and did what he’d longed to do since almost the first moment he’d met her. With a groan, he covered her mouth with his.
