Taming the Wild Highlander 04

by Terry Spear

  He raised his brows to see her armed. Then he smiled at her horse. "The byre wasna warm enough for her?" His smile was amused, his dark brown eyes taking in her whole appearance, and she realized her damp chemise was clinging to her body.

  Her whole body instantly warmed, but she couldn't grab one of the blankets to wrap around herself and still hold her dirk readied for a fight.

  She wasn't going to respond to his comment about her mare either. He knew full well why she had moved Nana in here.

  "I told you we wished you no harm, lass," Angus said, moving around her to reach Nana's reins, and Edana quickly stepped back, his size and closeness making her fearful.

  In that brief instant, she felt his body heat radiating toward her, smelled him—rainwater, leather, man, and horse. And took another deep breath of him.

  He clucked at her mare to get her to back up because there wasn't any way to turn her around inside the small room. She was looking a little wild-eyed, and Edana thought she would have to take over and coax her horse out of the shieling. But Angus was gentle with the mare, speaking with her as if…as if he was coaxing a woman into bed!

  Though why she should think such a thing all of a sudden made her whole body burn with chagrin.

  "Gunnolf, will you take the mare to the byre?" Angus called out, as he finally backed the horse outside.

  "Ja," the man said. He took the mare's reins and said to her, "You are a fine horse, but you are still meant for a byre."

  Thankfully, Angus did not comment further about the horse.

  Now that her mare was gone, the place would have seemed comfortably large, but with the broad-shouldered, tall man standing inside the room, it appeared piteously small.

  The last time she'd seen Angus, she had been a young lass and he had been but a lad. He was a full grown man now—his dark hair nearly black because it was sopping wet. His dark eyes took in the dirk she still held, and she felt foolish then as she saw his fine sword. Yet, she didn't set her dagger aside no matter how insignificant the weapon seemed compared to a warrior and his claymore.

  He grabbed a chair, and she took a step back. But what he did next, shocked her. He removed his plaid and laid it over the chair next to the fire. And then, the brigand, he began to slip off his boots.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, hating how breathless she sounded. His damp shirt clung to all his manly parts, his muscled chest, arms, and thighs, even his groin—revealing a part of his anatomy that was growing in size.

  Fascinated, she had a devil of a time shifting her attention away from it—as much as she knew she should. She swallowed hard and lifted her gaze from considering his rugged body to see a small smile curving his mouth.

  "Drying my clothes. You wouldna want me to catch my death, would you?"

  "'Tis no' my fault that you were daft enough to ride in a rainstorm."

  "May we come in?" Niall asked from the doorway, like Angus, having to dip his head to enter. His hair was dark brown, curly, and short. He was lankier than Angus, the two of them being the same age.

  He didn't wait for an invitation and did exactly what Angus had done. Began stripping.

  Her face had to be crimson as she quickly looked away.

  Gunnolf didn't ask to be invited. The blond-haired, blue-eyed Viking entered, shut the door, then barred it.

  Unease slid up her spine as she instantly felt trapped.

  Finding no more chairs to leave his plaid on, Gunnolf moved the table. Her clothes were lying on the hearth, as close as she could get them to the fire. And they took the only furniture to hang their clothes?

  She shrank back from all the half-naked men. Before she tripped on her blankets, Angus stalked toward her, startling her, and seized the dirk from her hand. She sat down hard with a thump, attempting to put distance between them.

  "We can talk now, or get some sleep first," Angus said, as Gunnolf and Niall began laying out their blankets.

  "Sleep first," she quickly said.

  As tired as they looked, she had every intention of slipping away while they slept. She hoped she could unbar the door without making any noise. She even thought of setting their horses free, but the horses might suffer for it, so instead, she would leave the shieling far behind while the men slept away the rest of the night. She would continue on her way to find her brothers, and she might locate the guards and Una while she was at it.

  Niall tossed Angus his blanket, and the brute laid it right next to hers! Touching hers, overlapping hers.

  "Nay, move it farther away," she snapped.

  Angus said, "I am a very light sleeper. If you move, I will know it. I dinna want to tell your da I had to tie you up."

  "He would be furious."

  "He would be satisfied if he knew it meant I returned you home safely."

  Angus spoke the truth. Edana would still try to slip away. Then she saw the Norseman consider where he had placed his blanket. He shook his head and moved the wool cloth right next to the door.

  With his big body, or any of the men's lying there, she had no chance to slip out unnoticed. The blue-eyed devil glanced at her as he reclined on his blanket and winked, then shut his eyes to sleep.

  Likewise, Niall moved his blanket so that it was at her feet. She was blocked in by walls on two sides and Angus beside her, allowing her no real escape, trapped. Angus watched her as she considered how she was surrounded.

  "Satisfied?" he asked with a smirk.

  He knew just what she'd been planning. She turned away from him to face the wall, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep. The room was cold, most likely because the men's plaids were blocking the heat from reaching this far into the room. Which was why she had spread her clothes out on the hearth!

  She felt his warm body press up against her. She stifled a squeak, tried to move closer to the stone wall, but found the male figure shifted again, seeking warmth—from her.

  "Quit trying to get away from me, lass," Angus whispered, as he wrapped his muscled arm around her, holding her still, possessing her. "You are shivering, and I dinna want you to grow ill. I will share naught more than a little heat with you."

  She tried to tell herself he was like a blanket warmed on a summer's day and not a man she should stay well away from. But she couldn't. She'd never felt a man's intimate touch, even if Angus wasn't attempting to be intimate with her. She couldn't resist the urge to pretend he was holding her like a man would hold a woman—wanting her, yearning to kiss her—like she'd seen Seumas kiss Una—desiring to make love to her.

  Realizing she'd been holding her breath, she tried to let it out without moving at all, because she thought his staff was growing hard, bigger, and she didn't want to think about what that meant. Well, mayhap a little. She believed her body was making his react in an interested, masculine way. That pleased her because she didn't think she could cause anyone to respond to her in such a manner.

  She should have reviled the way in which she succumbed to enjoying the heat he shared with her, but she was glad for the extra warmth. She decided then she had to try and convince Angus and his friends how important her mission was, and maybe they'd accompany her while she searched for her brothers. And maybe he'd share a little more heat with her while they travelled—if only to ensure she didn't grow ill on the journey.

  Somehow she had to convince them she wasn't crazy.

  Chapter 4

  Sometime during the night, Edana had turned and was half sprawled over Angus, his blanket and hers combined to give them extra warmth, although as much as her slight body was pressed against his, he was plenty hot.

  When he'd seen her as a young lass, contemplating the water in the loch from her stone perch, she'd been bonny, her hair a dark brown with a cast of red, her skin ivory—except when she'd fought with the others and then her cheeks had been positively rosy. Like she'd been when he'd perused the way she'd grown into a woman. And he saw her fully—the damp chemise clinging to her breasts, her taut nipples pressing against the cloth, the outli
ne of her legs, the way the cloth had dipped provocatively between her legs at the juncture where his gaze had lingered on the shadow of dark red hair—fascinated.

  She was beautiful—soft, warm, smelling of woman, freshly bathed after the drenching storm she'd been through. Why anyone hadn't already made her his wife, he didn't know. Then he reconsidered that notion. She had abilities that might chase off the most stalwart of suitors.

  She'd been shivering when he first had pulled her against his body, though he wasn't sure if it had all been due to being cold and damp, or some of it was feeling his body so close to hers. Which he couldn't make behave no matter how hard he had tried. Not that he'd tried very hard for very long. He'd finally given in to the feel of her pressed against his groin, thought of what it would be like to enjoy every bit of her as a man would a woman—if she were his wife.

  Her full breasts pressed against his chest now, his tunic and her chemise not in the least bit of a deterrent for feeling every bit of her. Her head was turned toward the closest wall, her light warm breath fanning his bare chest where the ties on his tunic had come undone.

  He heard movement by the door and turned his head to see Gunnolf stand, stretch, then grin at him. Niall was securing his plaid, shaking his head. Smiling. The two left the shieling to take care of personal matters, while Angus was stuck beneath the fae who was making his staff ache with need.

  He should have set her aside and put distance between them, but as much as he hated to admit it, he rather liked where she was right now.

  He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, intending to rise and dress so he could get them on their way and return her home forthwith. In just a few minutes.

  When Gunnolf and Niall returned later and rummaged around as they built up a fire, they woke Angus. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep again. The lass hadn't moved an inch and must not have had much sleep since she'd left her castle.

  Gunnolf and Niall shook their heads at him, but were smiling as they worked on the fire.

  Could he help that the lass liked to use his body as a pillow and a source of heat? How had she managed to travel this long all on her own? He, for one, had the first good night sleep in a while.

  He was certain Niall wished he had come alone and found the lass instead, and been in Angus's place. Mayhap Gunnolf also.

  The men were as quiet as they could be, making porridge for them, until she stirred.

  She looked down at him as he lay beneath her, her expression surprised—lips parted—that had him thinking of kissing her—then her expression turned horrified. Blue eyes wide with disbelief.

  She quickly pushed at him as she hurried to get away from his body—making him groan out loud as his friends chuckled under their breaths. She acted as if he had pulled her on top of him because he had been cold. Just as well that she moved off him in a hurry, though she'd been none too gentle. He needed a walk outside—to cool off. Though he wasn't certain he could move just that moment.

  She shifted her gaze from him to his friends and closed her eyes as if she was even more alarmed to see that both had known how Angus and she had slept the night.

  Angus got to his feet, crossed the floor to the fireplace, and grabbed his plaid off the chair. Neither Gunnolf nor Niall said a word, their small smiles cast in his direction saying it all. They knew he was in no mood to talk. He hurried outside to cool his heated blood.

  He was certain, though the sleeping arrangements had worked well enough last night, the questioning as to why she had run off from her father's keep, would not go as well.

  ***

  Edana didn't think she'd ever been more embarrassed in her life. She couldn't believe that she had slept not only in Angus's arms, but on top of him for who knew how long. And both his cousin and friend had witnessed it, too!

  Though to avoid Angus being shackled to her in matrimony, she assumed none of the men would breathe a word of this to anyone. Or at least she hoped they wouldn't. She certainly wouldn't.

  Once Niall and Edana were settled at the table, Angus and Gunnolf standing nearby as they ate their porridge, she felt an uncomfortable awkwardness. Not only because of having slept with Angus in the way in which she had. Worse, though they would never learn the truth, she loved having slept with him in that manner. She'd never slept so soundly in all her life. Well, after she finally quit thinking about the way his hot, hard body had been pressed to hers.

  All three men's eyes were on her, and she knew they were trying to figure her out. How could she tell them she had the most urgent business, and that she knew barely anyone from her clan would listen to her entreaties? But she couldn't tell them why she didn't speak to her father about it. How he hadn't wished to hear a word from her after what she'd done—walked into his chamber and caught him naked with Zeneva.

  Most likely Angus and his companions would take her straight back to her people to let them deal with her.

  She couldn't go back. Not with her brothers' lives at stake.

  Angus watched Edana eat her bannock, fidgeting the whole while, glancing at the door, like a deer among hunters. He suspected he and his companions would look that way to her—big, menacing, outnumbering her three to one. He couldn't believe how much he'd enjoyed her warmth and soft body this morning, when he should have wished to push her away and keep his distance from the fae creature.

  She darted another glance at him, and he finally broke the silence. "So tell us why you ran away from your clan, Edana."

  He had been concerned that someone might have wronged her, but that no one, her father included, had believed her, and so she had run away before she suffered any further abuse at the hands of the knave.

  But she hadn't appeared unduly afraid of Angus or his friends. He thought she would be if she'd faced a fiend and feared he and his friends might treat her in the same ruthless manner. Except that she had known each of them once. Still, they were all grown men now, no longer green lads.

  Yet, he didn't believe he had the scenario right.

  She was slowly eating the oatmeal porridge now, and he thought it was to avoid answering his question, or maybe the bannock had helped to satisfy her hunger. Her stomach had been rumbling well before she awoke this morning so he knew the petite lass had been hungry. But when he'd investigated her leather bag, he'd found cheese, smoked fish, and bannock aplenty, so he suspected she was eating very little to last as long as she had planned to wander.

  What was she thinking? Traveling out here all by herself?

  Aye, some thought she was touched in the head and would avoid her at all costs. But those who didn't know who she was, or know something of her fae oddity, might very well take advantage of the bonny lass. He had still envisioned her being only four and ten, the last time he'd seen her. Smaller, less filled out, her hair lighter, but her blue eyes had still caught his attention. He had a time tearing his gaze away from the vision she had become—all woman, and all soft curves.

  She finished the last of her porridge and swallowed hard. Then she turned her gaze on him, and he felt lost in her blue eyes again, so vibrant they forced him to stop before he took the last bite of his bread.

  "If I tell you why I left the safety of my home, you willna believe me any more than anyone else would," she said.

  Angus was afraid of that. If someone had harmed her, and no one would protect her, he couldn't return her to her clan. He had to at least learn the truth of the matter before he put their clans' friendship at risk over the lass though, or James would be furious with him. If she had been maltreated, he would speak to her father, attempt to prove she was sincere, and ensure her safety prior to leaving her there.

  He hadn't had time to respond to her declaration that they would not believe her plight as he was chewing the last of his bread when she shook her head, her reddish-brown silky curls slipping around her shoulders, the same lovely strands that had curled about his shoulders this morning. "You willna believe me, but I canna go back."

  Angus had to
know the facts. If she felt freer to speak of some personal matter with him alone, he'd ask Niall and Gunnolf to see to the horses. He couldn't take her to Craigly Castle without having a damn good reason. Last time one of his brothers took a lass from another clan to their ancestral home to have his brother decide what to do with her, James had made Dougald marry her!

  In a flash, he thought about being tied down to a wife, who had curious abilities. He attempted to tell himself he was not interested in such an arrangement in the least. Until he'd found her sleeping on top of him this morn, and he couldn't help but wish for something more. Which was daft. He swore she cast a spell over him every time he saw her.

  "Do you wish to speak with me in private about the matter?" he asked, trying to sound gentle and encouraging. He thought he sounded much too warrior-like instead because if someone had attacked her, he would be dead by his hand.

  Niall and Gunnolf watched her closely, waiting for her answer.

  "Mayhap one of them will believe me when you willna," she said softly.

  Well, that put him in his place. "Then tell us what happened."

  She didn't. Instead, she stared at her flask of mead as if that would give her courage.

  "Lass, did someone make untoward advances?"

  Her head snapped around, jaw dropping, eyes widening, and her skin grew flushed. Either he'd hit on the truth of the matter, or he'd shocked the lady to the tips of her shoes.

  "Och, nay," she quickly said, refuting the whole awful notion. "'Tis my brothers who are in harm's way, and I must find them."

  Her brothers. They had been on their way to see their cousin McEwan from what James had said.

  She rose from the chair and began pacing across the small shieling, but away from him and his friends. Once she started speaking, she didn't stop. Pacing back and forth, her hands doing some of her talking, she was so animated and concerned for her brothers, he stood motionless, fascinated. His attention focused on the way she moved, the lyrical quality of her voice, the way her blue eyes flashed with worry, and then shifted with heartfelt eagerness. Her skirts moved around and between her legs as she walked, her actions mesmerizing.