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“Does it not?”
“No,” said both of MacAdder’s men.
“Borrowed,” Galien muttered again. As if one “borrowed” sheep in retaliation for stealing cattle. He really should stop asking questions he did not want to know the answers to. “I’ll tell him, or send word to him at least. We are on our way to Brockburg.”
“Is she really the babe of Dennochbrook?” MacAdder’s second-in-command asked.
Reina stiffened behind him.
“Is there anything Rory failed to mention to you?” Though he asked the question, Galien was not truly wroth with his cousin. He’d share with men he trusted, and Galien did not doubt his judgement. Despite that MacAdder hailed from the Highlands, his reiving clan spent as much time south of the border than north of it. Rory knew the man better than Galien. And if he trusted them with the knowledge, it was good enough for him.
“He failed to mention the lady’s beauty.” MadAdder winked at Reina.
Galien supposed an introduction was in order. “Lady Reina,” he said to her, “our escorts for the remainder of the journey, MacAdder and his men. A former border chieftain turned esteemed leader of the most notorious reiving clan you’ll have the displeasure of meeting.”
MacAdder’s laugh underscored Galien’s introduction.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Reina said. “We thank you for your escort, sir.”
Another wink. It was time for the cheeky bastard to be on his way. “We take care of our own, my lady. And if you be the babe of Dennochbrook, and a friend of Galien Kerr, then you are a friend of ours.” With a nod to Galien and a call back to his men, MacAdder rose ahead of them. As the sound of horse’s hooves died down, Galien turned in the saddle once again and watched Reina’s expression turn from one of polite curiosity to. . . something else.
“What if I am not the babe?” she asked. She looked almost sad to contemplate it.
“Do you want to be?” he asked, not understanding her question.
“I. . . I do not want my father to have done such a thing. But. . .” She looked back toward the ridge, toward Galien’s homeland. Even now they could see MacAdder and his men becoming smaller and smaller as they rode ahead.
He knew the answer she did not give. Galien understood it, wanted it, too.
He wanted her to be the babe of Dennochbrook. To be one of them.
To be his.
If she was not, Reina would go home. She would return to England. Be embraced by her parents. Marry. Inherit Anbarth.
This time, he was less gentle.
Galien once again claimed Reina’s lips, his mouth slashing across hers with an intensity, and need, he could not deny. The rest of MacAdder’s men would be coming soon, but he cared little. His body still twisted in the saddle, Galien had turned just enough to draw her in more deeply.
“Galien.” Reina broke the kiss. “What does it mean? These kisses. . .”
He would not apologize this time. “I’d never dishonor you, Reina,” he said. “But I will tell you truly. Never have I wanted a woman so badly as you. Leaving last eve with the taste of you on my lips. . .” He wasn’t able to finish. Not when Reina leaned forward and, this time, initiated the kiss. The mount, clearly well-trained, remained steadier than he’d expected. Steady enough for him to draw Reina in once again, though his hands never left the reins. When they finally broke apart again, he said what he’d been thinking all day.
“This journey must either come to an end, and quickly, or I fear your father will truly have a reason to be wroth with me.”
“You mean, aside from stealing off with his daughter? And colluding with a man his king wishes captured more than any other?”
He laughed. “Aye, lass. Aside from that.”
Reina lifted her chin defiantly. “Why then should you hold back?”
“Why? Do you truly not know the answer to that, Reina?”
“No,” she said. “I do not. It would seem to me I’ve not hid my desire for you, Galien. Your honor holds you back. And yet you will not honor my wishes?”
If she said it aloud. . .
