Highlander's Captive (Highlander Trilogy)

by Donna Fletcher

“Unless of course it is lust one is feeling and once that is satisfied there is nothing else to feel.” She wanted to learn, and he wanted her to know the difference, so she could make the right choice when the time came.

  Was that what she was feeling for Torr? Lust and nothing more?

  “So how do you know the difference?” she asked annoyed, at what, she wasn’t sure.

  “Not that I know for sure, but I would say that two people in love might drive each other a little crazy, want to be together more often than not, respect and admire each other, would do anything for each other, and, of course, the man would protect the woman he loved with his life.. At least that is my thought on it.”

  As you protect me.

  The thought sent a jolt through her, though she maintained her calm. Could it be true? Could she be falling in love with Torr? She did want to spend time with him. She looked forward to being snuggled in his arms in bed at night. She enjoyed talking with him so very much, especially when—so far—no subject was taboo. She did respect and admire him. And oh how she ached for him to kiss her again. Had love struck her? She certainly had not felt any such things for Owen. She was beginning to realize just how much of a means to an end he had been to her, though when her brother’s warriors had arrived to take her home, she had not thought once of notifying Owen about her departure. It had been one of the nuns who had said that she would let Owen know that Wintra had left for home when he visited at the end of the week.

  “I never loved Owen,” she said, as if saying it aloud freed her of something.

  “A good and sensible realization.”

  “You helped me realize it.”

  He smiled. “Princess, I have no doubt you would have come to the same conclusion given time.”

  “I do not want to waste any more time on him, and I want to be ready when love does strike.”

  He laughed. “I do not think anyone is ever ready when love strikes, but I guess you can give it a try if you want.” He stood, stretched, and said, “As much as I enjoy talking with you, I have to go and see about supper for us.”

  “But it is early yet.” She did not want him to go. She was enjoying their conversation and did not want it to end. Another reason to believe she was falling in love with him.

  “The skies are heavily gray and night will fall before we know it. I need time to hunt something more than fish.”

  “Be careful,” she urged.

  He walked over to her, planning to plant a quick kiss on her lips and reassure her that he would be fine. It did not quite turn out that way.

  He bent down to kiss her, and she raised up to meet his lips and that was all he needed. She was eager for him to kiss her, and he did not disappoint her.

  His hand went around her neck and held it tight as his lips claimed hers, and good Lord, if she didn’t tingle down to the tips of her toes. His kiss was gentle, demanding, teasing, but most of all magical. Sensations rushed through her body, making her legs go weak. If she wasn’t sitting, she would have collapsed against him.

  The thought of being in his arms, her body pressed against his, his strong arms wrapped around her had her pushing herself out of the chair. And as she did, his arm went around her waist and lifted her up to press against his hard body.

  A soft moan tickled at her throat and rose to reach her mouth, though his kiss stifled it. Her arms went around his neck, and she let instinct take hold, or was it love, that had her kissing him as if she knew what she was doing?

  It was when she pressed her body hard against his and felt him thick and strong against her that he broke them apart, holding her at arm’s length while they both took heavy breaths.

  “We need to think about what we are doing here,” he said.

  “At the moment, my thoughts are anything but clear,” she said, and then smiled. “You seem to take my breath away.”

  “You do the same to me, which means I need to leave for a bit. The cold will do me good.”

  She scrunched her brow and was about to speak.

  “Do not ask me why, Princess,” he ordered, released her, and hurried out the door.

  Wintra dropped down on the chair. She had not wanted him to leave, but she had to agree that it was better that he did. He was right. They had to think about what they were doing here. She could so easily surrender to the lust that consumed her, but she would much rather find out if it was love that had her favoring and wanting Torr as much as she did.

  She had to keep things in prospective and keep things proper, though she had no idea how she would manage the latter.

  Stop thinking about it. The warning in her head was not as easy to heed as one would assume. She needed a reprieve from her rampant thoughts and the only way to do that was to keep busy. She snatched her dress up off the ground and got busy stitching. Besides, it would be wise for her to remain fully clothed at all times while here with Torr.

  She not only wanted the dress repaired, she wanted it done properly and that would take detailed work and that meant precise concentration. She focused on her stitching, and it wasn’t long before she was completely lost in it.

  Wintra got half the dress done when she realized that the fire’s light had faded. That was when she noticed the fire had died down. She hurried off the chair, placing her dress on it and grabbed a log from the stack to add to the fire. It was then she realized how much time must have passed since she needed to add three more logs to get the fire going strong. When she finally had a good fire blazing, she stepped back, rubbing her arms that had chilled considerably.

  She cast a glance at the door, wondering how long Torr had been gone and her stomach gave her the answer. It rumbled with hunger, which meant it had been several hours. Had something happened to him? The thought sent a shudder through her, and she did the only thing she knew to do. She walked over to the bed, got down on her knees, and began to pray.

  Torr felt the cold and was glad of it. He’d been so heated with passion that he hadn’t thought the cold could ever touch him, but it finally had. And now he could return safely to the cottage, or so he kept trying to convince himself.

  He had cleaned the rabbit he had managed to catch and he was pleased with the few onions and a turnip he had dug out of the garden that he thought had been picked bare. Luckily or perhaps it had been a smart decision on the farmer’s part, to place the kitchen garden where he did. The cottage kept the snow from falling too heavily on the garden, and although he had to battle the hard ground to get at the lingering vegetables, it was worth it. They would feast tonight.

  With precious food in hand, he entered the cottage, though came to an abrupt stop just inside the door when he saw Wintra’s face buried in the bed and her on her knees. He kicked the door shut, dropped the rabbit and vegetables on the table and went to go to her, but she was off her knees as soon as she spotted him and ran to him.

  Her arms slipped beneath his cloak to hug his waist and she planted her face firmly against his chest.

  His arms went around her to hug her as tightly as she did him, though after a moment he eased her face away to look up at him. “What’s wrong? Why were you on your knees?”

  “I feared something may have happened to you, and I was praying for your safe return.”

  “I appreciate the prayers, Princess, but death itself would not stop me from returning to you and keeping you safe.”

  She pressed her finger to his lips. “Do not tempt death or surely he will knock on our door.”

  He pressed his nose to hers. “I will make sure to let him know he is not welcome here.”

  Wintra smiled and gave him a quick kiss that so startled her that she jumped back out of his arms and stared, shocked by her audacity or was it the shock that she had kissed him as if it was the most natural thing for her to do.

  “Thank you for the welcome and the prayers,” he said and turned his attention to the food he had brought back. He would have preferred a lengthier kiss, but that would have been unwise. And this was her kiss to gi
ve and she gave it freely without thought or reservation, and he liked that.

  Wintra sat down on the bed, her legs a bit too wobbly to take any steps. Her actions alarmed her, but they also made her think again on the possibility that she was falling in love with Torr. And the idea made her stomach flutter.

  “I got us a rabbit and found some onions and a turnip in the garden, not that the cold ground wanted to part with them.”

  Wintra stood, her years at the abbey forcing her to do her share when it came to every day survival. Everyone had a chore and if one did not do their chore it affected the others, and so everyone shared in the chores so that they all survived quite nicely, or so preached Mother Abbess.

  “I will see to the vegetables,” she said joining him by the table.

  He noticed that she was careful not to step too close to him. He almost laughed since if he wanted, all he had to do was reach out and snatch her around the waist and hoist her against him, or better yet carry her to the bed. But he respected the distance she set between them and turned to scoop up a log and use it to nudge the rod in the fireplace out far enough so that he could skewer the rabbit on it.

  When he turned to reach for the rabbit, Wintra was busy rubbing one of the wild onions all over the skinned rabbit.

  “It will give it more flavor,” she explained.

  “Another thing you learned at the abbey?” he asked after scooping up the meat.

  “As I’ve told you, the nuns kept me busy.” She took hold of the bucket near the hearth, and then went and slipped her cloak off the peg and onto her shoulders.

  “Where are you going?” Torr asked.

  “We need clean water and I need to see to...” she let her words drift off hoping he’d understand. Though after the intimate things she had discussed with him, she did not know why it should bother her to let him know she needed to relieve herself.

  “I will go with you.”

  “I prefer the privacy.”

  “I will give it to you, but I will not let you go out there alone.”

  “I will stay close to the cottage,” she insisted.

  “Aye, that you will,” he said with a laugh, amused by her stubbornness.

  “I can do this myself.”

  He took her by the arm and opened the door. “That is not the point. I am going to protect you whether you want me to or not.”

  “But I do not need protecting for this,” she insisted once again as he propelled her out the door. “I need privacy.”

  “You need both, and I will see that you have both.”

  She yanked her arm free and dropped the bucket. “You are a stubborn man who—”

  “Intends to keep you safe,” he finished, and then took hold of her shoulders and turned her toward the side of the house and gave her a slight shove. “Now go see to your needs. The light is fading and it grows colder.”

  She hurried off mumbling beneath her breath, knowing it was useless arguing with him. It took her a few moments to find a good spot and the brief delay had him calling out to her.

  “I am fine. I will be a few minutes.”

  “Call out to me when you are done,” he ordered.

  For some reason, she smiled. She was not sure why, but that had been the way of it since meeting Torr. At times she found herself feeling happier than she had been in a long time and for no good rhyme or reason.

  Love.

  She shook her head. This was no time to be thinking about love. She finished what she had to do and turned, then turned back again. Something had caught her eye in the distance by a tree. She strained to see what it was and when she could not quite make it out, she took a few steps closer. When it still was not visible enough, she took several more steps and suddenly froze.

  A pair of eyes stared at her from between the branches and she turned and ran, screaming out for Torr as she did.

  Torr bolted around the cottage as soon as he heard Wintra scream out his name in terror. His blood ran cold as she continued screaming his name, and he swore to himself that he would never let her go off alone again.

  She flew into his arms as he ran to meet her.

  “A man! A man!” she said through quick breaths. “Watching me.”

  Torr scanned the surrounding area and wondered why the man had not followed her, unless he was reporting back to someone in which case they would not be able to stay here, or perhaps he was simply a traveler on his own. He needed to determine for himself what was going on.

  “Show me where you saw him,” he said to Wintra and took hold of her hand.

  She nodded and gripped his hand tightly as she led him back to the spot, coming to a halt a few feet away. She shook her head. “He is still there.”

  “Where?” Torr asked glancing around.

  Wintra pointed as she walked. “He has not moved.”

  Torr could see the man now and he knew with one glance that he was dead.

  Wintra stopped a few feet away. “I think he is dead.”

  “So do I,” Torr agreed. “Do you want to wait here while I have a look?”

  She shook her head and held on to his hand. “No, I want to stay with you.”

  They walked together to the man and stood and stared for a moment. Then Torr released her hand and pulled the man back from where he was braced between the trees. He laid him on the ground, though the man’s limbs remained frozen in the same position they had been in.

  “I don’t know which one did him in, the stomach wound or the cold,” he said and turned to Wintra. She was as pale as the freshly fallen snow, and Torr silently cursed himself for letting her see the dreadful scene.

  He hurried over to her, wrapping his arm around her and turning her away from the dead man.

  But she shook her head, slipped out of his arms, and turned around, pointing to the man, though found it hard to speak.

  Torr slipped his arm around her waist. “What’s wrong? Tell me?”

  Wintra took a deep breath and shivered. “He is one of the men who had been with Owen when he rescued me from my abductors.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Wintra sat by the hearth rubbing her cold hands together and staring at the flames. She could not get them warm enough, and she could not get the vision of the wide-eyed, dead man out her mind.

  She jolted when Torr wrapped his hands around hers and started rubbing them. He had moved his chair closer to hers, and she did not hesitate to lean against him. She would crawl into his lap if she could. The strength of him combined with his tenderness was a comfort she more than favored and could use right now, but then curiosity reared its head and questions sprang forth spilling from her lips.

  “What do you think happened to him? And why was he alone? Owen had said that his men were needed at his home and that was why they had to leave us. But this area is not anywhere near Owen’s home, so where did those men who were with Owen when he found us suddenly come from?”

  Her pale cheeks had brightened pink, her wit was quick, and her curiosity as strong as ever, and he was glad to see it. She had paled so badly when she had stared at the dead man that he had thought she might faint. He had kept a strong arm around her waist, her feet barely touching the snow when he had rushed her back to the cottage.

  “He met with them in the woods the morning I stole you away from him,” Torr said feeling it was time she knew about what he had seen.

  She sat up straight. “Why would he do that? Why not have them come directly to our camp and who are they?” She continued as if searching for the answers. “And why send his other warriors home—unless.” Her eyes turned wide. “The warriors who left were not his warriors.” She shook her head, as if trying to make sense of it all. “What were Owen’s intentions?”

  “It would appear they were quite different than what he led you to believe,” Torr said, Owen’s deception a growing concern to him.

  “My brother will see to clearing this up and see to Owen,” she said with confidence.

  “He will at that,” To
rr agreed.

  She slipped her hands out of his and turned to stare at the flames.

  Torr did not disturb her. He understood that she needed time with her thoughts, so he let her be.

  He was surprised when only a short time later she turned and said to him, “I think it would be better if you took me home as soon as possible. There is no telling what Owen will do or say and without being there to defend myself, I fear what may happen.”

  “As you wish,” he said thinking the same himself. “We can leave at first light.”

  “How long until we reach home?”

  “Five or more days, depending on the weather and our stamina.” He did not add that it also depended on whether they ran across Owen and his men.

  She nodded and turned her attention back to the flames.

  Supper was quiet, neither having anything to say, though Torr urged Wintra to eat.

  “I do not know when we will have our next meal. You should eat more to help sustain your strength,” he urged.

  “My stomach cannot abide another piece,” she insisted and shook her head. “My brother will be disappointed in me. I have made a fool of myself and that reflects on him.”

  “There is no way your brother would ever be disappointed in you and, in the end, it is Owen who will look the fool.”

  “You are a good man and you have been good to me, and I thank you for that. And I wish to say something, though I hope I am not making more of a fool of myself yet again, but since I find it easy to talk with you, I thought I could—” She shook her head, and then the words rushed from her mouth. “I think I may have fallen in love with you.”

  He felt a squeeze to his heart, a punch to his gut, and he was struck silent, though it did not matter since she went right on talking.

  “I do not know anything of love, but I do know that I miss you when you are not near me and I tingle when you are near me, and I love when you kiss me, whether it be a quick or a lingering one. And I wonder now if it will ever be possible to sleep without you by my side.

  “You must understand that this is all so strange to me. I have only met you, so how could I possibly be in love with you? And yet I feel that love has struck me good and solid, and I have no idea what to do about it. And there, I have said what I have meant to and you—” She stopped abruptly as if words suddenly failed her or she ran out of them, or perhaps it was that she feared his response.