Page 11 of The Cursed Highland Bride

Understanding bloomed in his eyes, and Dunn nodded his head. “I lost my maither too.” He flashed an angry look at Morgan, then turned his gaze back to her. “Call yerself what ye wish if it makes ye feel closer tae her spirit.”

Katarina felt an unexpected surge of warmth for the man standing before her. She had been prepared to hate him, but she was finding that more difficult than she expected. I will hate him. I must on principle alone!

When the ceremony drew to a conclusion, Katarina was nearly ripped off of her feet as her husband wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with a passion that was shocking in its intensity. She felt herself giving way to the pleasure of his touch, and it frightened her. Unable to pull away from the strength of his embrace, she bit down hard on his lip and did not let go until she tasted blood.

Her husband pulled away in surprise and swiped his hand across his bleeding lip. Seeing the blood, he chuckled. “Ye are more than I expected, wife. It is nae a surprise that yer faither kept ye locked away in a nunnery. This night may be an enjoyable one after all.” Turning, he informed Laird Morgan that they were leaving. Katarina did not hear the rest of the conversation as she felt the blood rush from her face, and the world seemed to wobble on its axis.

“Now?” she nearly squeaked. She would have no time to say farewell to her sisters.

“Aye, now.”

“I cannae leave now,” she began to argue, but Laird Morgan made a hand motion to silence her.

Her husband misunderstood her hesitancy. “Ye are mine now. Yer allegiance now belongs tae me.” The way he said it made it sound as if he suspected her of some form of treachery. It did not help that she in truth was guilty of such a thing. She turned to Morgan for some kind of assurance that he would keep his word to protect her sisters but found nothing there. Before she could say anything more, Dunn scooped her up and carried her out to the courtyard where his brother Tor was already waiting with two horses.

“I am fully capable o’ walking,” Katarina chastised him, terrified that he would drop her from such a great height. She felt embarrassment color her cheeks and tried to release herself from his arms but to no avail.

“Aye,” he answered but said nothing more on the subject as he deposited her onto the back of a large black steed.

“Why are there only two horses?” she asked, confused.

“Ye will ride with me,” he replied as he stepped up into the saddle directly behind her, his body enveloping around hers like a sheltering cloak.

“I am capable o’ riding on my own as well,” she stated in an attempt to conceal how she felt at his closeness.

“Aye, but this is better.” He looked down at her, and the lust in his eyes spread heat across her flesh.

Tor stepped up onto the horse next to them and nodded. “Away?”

“Away,” her husband confirmed, and without a backward glance at the Morgan laird standing in the doorway, they rode out of the courtyard, heading north.

* * *

Dunn frowned as he rode out of the courtyard, his new wife’s delicious backside rubbing up against his nether regions with every step of the horse beneath them. He had never wanted to bed a woman so badly in his entire life. He did not like the loss of control he was experiencing, and he also did not like feeling guilty for wrenching her away from her home so unceremoniously, but it was necessary. He didn't trust Alistair Morgan not to kill him in his sleep if he stayed the night. Having married the lass, he had technically fulfilled his obligation to the king—so had Morgan by allowing the marriage. Anything could happen after that.

Even against the motion of the horse, Dunn could still feel her shaking. He was not certain whether it was from fear, anger, or sorrow. He looked down at her in his arms but could only see the top of her head for she kept her face turned away from him. Katherine, or Katarina, had attempted to put distance between their bodies, but it was impossible on the back of a horse. From the way she had bit his lip until it bled, he could only assume that she was as displeased about being forced to wed as he was. He knew that his handsome face and form were a boon in his favor, but she had looked upon him as a brute to be defeated, not a man to desire. He was not used to seeing that in a woman’s eyes, ever.

Dunn pulled her closer against him so that he might calm whatever internal storm was causing her to physically shake, but she jerked forward away from him. “Ye are trembling, lass. I only wish tae bring ye comfort.”

His new wife snorted in disbelief. “More like ye wish tae seduce me, husband.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and glared at him, managing now to see the wet lines upon her cheeks where tears had fallen.

“What does a noblewoman raised in a nunnery ken o’ seduction?”

Her face turned pale then red within the breadth of a heartbeat. She turned back away from him and sat as rigid as their mount’s movements would allow. Dunn took her head and turned it back to face him. “I will ask ye this once and only once. Are ye a virgin, lass?”

The shocked look on her face was answer enough. “I am, of course, I am,” she stammered, turned bright crimson, then turned back away, but not before he caught the sight of a fresh tear gliding down her cheek.

“I did nae mean tae offend. It is simply that I dinnae trust yer faither.”

She made a sound something like a snort of amusement, but he could not be certain.

Reaching up, he brushed the tears from her cheek. “Do ye ken what it is tae be seduced?”

She did not answer.

“Shall I seduce ye?” He let his fingers travel from her cheek to her neck and beyond.

“Riders!” Tor shouted from behind them.