by Glenn, Laura
He ignored her statement and, to the delight of his men, scooped her into his massive arms and carried her to the table. He plopped her down on the bench next to one of the more seasoned warriors, Cal, whom she recognized from the encampment.
Galen stood at the head of the table. A hush fell over the room and all eyes turned to him. Impressed by the amount of respect he commanded and received, she turned to face him as well, waiting for him to speak.
“For those of you who stayed behind to protect the clan during the recent battle with the Grahams, this is Anna.” He leaned forward, flattening his palms against the top of the table. “I am certain you have been well-informed of who she is by now. Seeing as how I have decided to keep her, you will assist me in assuring her comfort.”
Anna’s heart skipped a beat. What the hell did he mean, he was keeping her?
Galen straightened to his full height just as a warrior from the other table stood and held out his cup.
“To the health of our laird and his lady,” the man said, raising his arm in the air.
Benches scraped the floor as their occupants stood and raised their respective cups toward Anna and Galen. Variations of the Gaelic slàinte “to your health” toast sounded as Galen took his seat.
Anna’s cheeks flushed at the attention. Disquieting thoughts sped through her mind at the glow of satisfaction in Galen’s gray eyes. She parted her lips to speak, but then paused asthe largest of the dogs confidently strode over to Galen and sat on his haunches to Galen’s right. Its coal-black eyes stared at her intently.
She shook her head, unable to tear her attention away from the dog. The shaggy, gray-mottled beast was huge. Galen didn’t even have to lean down to pet him. The top of its head easily reached just below Galen’s shoulder while he sat in his chair. The dog’s long snout moved toward her, his nose wriggling and his pointed ears rotating. He bared his teeth and emitted a low growl.
“Dog!” Galen snapped.
Anna jumped. The hound ceased growling and she lifted her eyes to Galen. “Did you just call your dog, ‘Dog’?” she asked, cocking one eyebrow.
He nodded. “That is his name.”
The seriousness of his tone caused her to bite back the laugh tickling her throat.
A young woman with rosy cheeks smiled shyly at Anna as she placed a dried piece of scraped out bread in front of her and then filled it with some sort of steaming stew as another servant passed a cup across the table to her. Anna thanked them both and picked up a spoon to stir the stew, her stomach growling as the scent wafted up to her nose. The smell was strange and the meat almost looked like beef.
“What meat is this?” she asked, wondering if she was about to eat another new critter she hadn’t tried before.
“Mutton,” Galen answered around a mouthful of soup. He tore a hunk of bread off the loaf in front of him and spread some butter on it before shoving half of it into his mouth.
Flying bones and scraps crossed her field of vision as one by one the men tossed them over their shoulders to the dogs waiting patiently behind them. After the offerings were fought over and gobbled up, the beasts growled and snapped at one another as they jockeyed for the best position behind the men.
Dog, however, seemed to have the favored position. He sat patiently at Galen’s side, waiting for his master to toss him scraps, and then he gobbled them up completely unopposed by the other dogs.
Turning back to her food, Anna eagerly took a bite, excited to find if any new vegetables were hiding underneath the broth and chunks of meat. With each meal she had been served since arriving in Galen’s home, she had been impressed by how much flavor whomever did the cooking was able to coax out of such humble ingredients.
Cal ripped off a piece of bread and spread some butter on it before handing it to Anna. She smiled and thanked him. The bread was a bit tough and coarse compared to what she was used to in her own time, but she had come to adore it, especially with the ultra smooth and creamy butter spread on top. If anything was likely to kill her in the thirteenth century, it was going to be the butter.
About halfway through her stew, Anna shoved the bowl away, her stomach filled to capacity.
“Are you going to eat that?” Galen asked.
She shook her head and he grabbed it, setting the bowl in his own and digging in.
“The Gowrie has been quiet lately,” commented one of the elderly gentlemen sitting across from Anna.
Galen nodded. “Aye, he is just biding his time.”
“They are all the same, them Gowries,” spat another older man across from her. “Snakes in the grass, is what they are.”
Gowrie. There was that damn name of her ex-husband again. Anna shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Galen’s dog. Unfortunately, the beast still stared at her, almost as if it knew her secret. Hell, it probably knew her dad was a Campbell and her mom a Graham, too.
“She is a delicate little thing,” announced one of the elderly gentlemen, interrupting her silent panic attack over how she was the very embodiment of all the MacAirths’ enemies.
“Aye,” the other man nodded. “I am not sure how she will survive in this harsh land of ours.”
Anna opened her mouth to protest. Highland blood coursed through her veins, after all. There was nothing this land could throw at her that could be worse than some of the things she had already been through. She’d survived a neglectful mother, a physical attack by someone she thought she loved, and back-to-back shifts in an emergency room. She was nothing if not resilient.
Galen thankfully cut her off before she could stick her foot in her mouth. “Anna, these are two of my father’s cousins. John is on your right and Owen to your left. They were warriors under my father’s and grandfather’s commands.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled at the elderly gentlemen, crinkles around their eyes and at the corners of their mouths.
John smiled warmly. “Tell us about your family, lass,” he instructed in a smooth, deep voice.
“I have no real family,” she replied with a shrug, reminding herself to not utter the words “Campbell” or “Graham”. “It was just my mother and me mostly. She passed away last year.”
“No family?” Owen’s bushy brows wrinkled together, forming something not unlike a huge, wooly caterpillar just above his eyes. He stared at her across the table, hunched over his food, unlike his cousin, John, who sat as straight as a board. “You and your mother were all alone?”
“What about your father?” Cal asked, reaching for more bread.
Anna shrugged again in an effort to keep discomfort in check. “He left us when I was a baby.”
John grunted and downed the rest of his ale. “Cursed be any man who leaves his family! And with a wee one running about!” He slammed the cup down on the table with surprising force for such a frail-looking man.
“Yes,” Owen agreed, slowly chewing a mouthful of food and poking the air with his knife. “It is not a man but a coward who does such things.”
Anna smiled shyly, turning her eyes to the tabletop. Though they spoke of her as if she were not even there, her heart warmed at their anger over her father’s actions. The two men may have been gruff, but they had hearts of gold, which endeared them to her immediately.
Another older warrior approached the two old men from behind and shifted their attention away from Anna. Relieved, she took a tentative sip of ale from her cup. Left to her own thoughts, she glanced down one table and then the other. Adam and Geoffrey were nowhere to be seen. Though she could not quite recall what had been said before they left the encampment, she vividly remembered the men’s heated discussion outside the tent the morning she had succumbed to the fever. She hated the idea she may have been such a burden to them, they couldn’t stand to be anywhere near her. She turned toward Galen, expecting him to be licking his bowl or something equally impolite.
Instead, he was casually leaning back in his chair, staring at her. The silver specks in his eyes sparkled as one corner of his m
outh curved into a crooked grin. Her stomach fluttered at the gentle warmth of his features.
Anna turned her attention to examining the texture of her ale cup. “I haven’t seen Adam.”
Galen shifted toward her, leaning his forearms on the table. “He is checking on reports from the clan that Campbells were spotted near our border.”
“And Geoffrey?” she asked. He had seemed most distrustful of her.
“He left to find Father MacIntosh soon after accompanying you here.”
Anna nodded. “So, it’s not because they hate me they’re not here?”
“Hate you?” he replied in surprise. He reached under the table and rubbed her thigh back and forth as though to calm her nerves. “Why would you think anyone could hate you, Annie?”
She hated to admit it, since it did nothing but send her heart into a panicked flutter, but every time he called her “Annie” she somehow felt as though she meant more to him than just some woman he got stuck with because she had nowhere else to go. “Your brother was so angry when the two of you were arguing about me.”
His hand stopped at the top of her leg, his thumb resting far too close to the junction of her thighs for comfort. “Your story simply did not sit right with Geoffrey. Both he and Adam have good instincts so they questioned me. I would have done the same.”
“Oh,” she replied, biting her lower lip.
He squeezed her leg and she jerked as his thumb grazed her lower abdomen, eliciting a moist surge from her core. “Do not worry. If I need to tell them the truth, then I will. They are both trustworthy.”
She nodded and reached under the table to shove his hand away.
It didn’t budge.
“Please, Galen,” she whispered. “I can’t think when you’re touching me.”
He languidly brushed his thumb back and forth against her mons and leaned toward her ear. “Good,” he whispered back, his breath caressing her cheek.
She jumped when Galen shoved his chair away from the table and stood. All the men followed suit and filed out of the great hall, the dogs bounding happily after them. The mass exodus caught her off guard and she leaped from the bench, grabbing Galen’s arm.
“Where is everyone going?” she asked, desperately gulping down the heated desire he had stoked in her only a moment before.
“There is work to be done,” he replied, turning his back on her as though he hadn’t just been attempting to arouse her right in the middle of the great hall.
“I’m coming with you.” She hurried to his side, ignoring the growl from his dog beside him. There was no way in hell she was going to give him the chance to leave her holed up in this place all alone when there was fresh air and new sites to discover outside.
Galen shook his head. “Battle training is no place for a woman.”
“We will look after her,” Owen offered, groaning as he stood from the table. “We will make sure she does not wander into danger.”
“No, it is out of the question,” Galen stated with a tone of finality. “She will be a distraction.”
“If the boys cannot deal with the sight of a pretty girl around, what kind of warriors are they going to be, I ask you?” John wagged his bony finger in Galen’s direction.
“Besides,” Owen said, “the lass needs fresh air. It will make her hardy.”
Galen crossed his arms and stared down at Anna in irritation. “Fine. She may come outside and watch. But you two have to stay with her.”
Owen and John nodded.
“Just let me retrieve a few things and I will meet you outside.” Owen slowly walked toward the stairs with a slight limp.
“Me as well.” John followed his cousin.
“And you,” Galen’s tone took on a stern quality as he turned toward her. “You will not move from where I put you unless you have gained my permission beforehand. I will not have you overtiring yourself. Is that understood?”
Anna’s mouth dropped open in shock. So much was wrong with his opinion of what she should and should not do, she wasn’t even sure where to begin. “Look,” she propped her fists on her hips, “I don’t know how you treat other women, but I will not be ordered around like a child. If I want to go outside and exhaust myself, then I damn well will do it.”
His hound growled at her again and she whipped around in exasperation. The animal was about as good-natured as his master. “Dog!”
The huge beast went silent and whimpered as it inched behind Galen’s legs.
With a satisfied nod, she turned her back on Galen and walked toward the door leading outside. “And you can’t just keep me, either,” she triumphantly threw over her shoulder.
Her right foot slipped out from underneath her and she fell backward. Galen’s hands spanned her waist and lifted her into the air. He twisted her around and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
Ignoring her outraged protest, he strolled out the door and into the sunshine of the early afternoon. Once in the courtyard, he stopped and slowly drew her body down the length of his.
Anna gulped, pleasure shooting through her nipples as they dragged against the contours of his chest. He stared at her, but she kept her eyes on his shoulder as her feet settled on the ground.
“Look at me,” he softly commanded.
When she did not instantly comply, he took one hand off her waist and used it to tilt her chin. “As I have already informed you, I will not be denying myself tonight. I need you well rested.”
He released her, brushing past as he walked away, his hand lingering briefly upon her waist. Knees weakening, Anna sunk to the steps.
Pregnant, unmarried and ostracized. That’s what she would be if she didn’t regain control of herself.
Galen swaggered across the courtyard, power radiating from the man with every step. He seemed to sense her stare since, as he reached his destination and turned around, his gaze directly met hers. He threw her a self-satisfied confident smile and winked.
Yes. She was definitely in trouble.
Chapter Ten
It was the longest training session of his life.
Galen glanced at the sun. The damn thing had barely altered its position in the sky since the last time he checked.
He had admonished himself all afternoon for giving in to Anna’s request to accompany them outside. Her laughter floated to him over the gentle late-summer breeze and he grinned like an idiot once again. Owen was obviously regaling her with tales from his youth and, since Galen had been an audience for Owen’s stories ever since he could remember, he knew the majority of them were of a rather ribald nature. Anna didn’t seem to mind in the least, if her constant smile was any indication. Her joy was simply infectious. Several times he caught a few of his men staring in her direction and smiling every time she laughed. More than once, Galen had to stop himself from bashing a few heads together.
He couldn’t wait to get her alone and away from his men’s prying eyes. No one would dare touch her since he had declared her his woman, which effectively made her his wife and mistress of the keep. But a strange possessiveness had taken over this morning when the MacPhearson messenger rode out of the courtyard, leaving him the knowledge none of the clans in the area or among their relations knew a woman of Anna’s description. Thankfully, Galen could rely on the MacPhearson to be discreet. The man had no love for the Gowrie, the Campbell laird’s overlord, either.
The knowledge Anna wasn’t a spy sent by the Campbells was enough to dislodge the mistrust that had settled into him. He believed she had spoken the truth when she confessed about the pendant, but he had to be certain—which was why he sent word to the MacPhearson. And he had to resist her charms until he could prove his instincts were right all along—he could trust her. Now he could relax and indulge in the scent of her skin, the musical pitch of her laughter and the silken caress of her fingertips. Without outside interferences, he could truly make her his.
The woman was certainly peculiar, though. Anna would shrink from him in fear one m
oment, and then unleash a temper hot enough to try the patience of a priest the next. He could barely move in anger without her flinching, but any time he said something to displease her, she turned into a lioness before his eyes. She’d even scared his ferocious wolfhound. She had no problem openly defying him in front of his men, either. It was almost as if she had never been taught about her place in the social structure.
Even more surprisingly, her defiance made him hot.
Galen’s eyes roved over her curvy figure. Damn, she was beautiful. Full, inviting breasts and softly rounded hips perfect for a man to lose himself in. And then there was her scent, which was nothing short of magnificent. The faint floral aroma rising from her hair plagued him as he slept by her side each night.
His wayward thoughts caused him to frown. He was acting like some lovesick, adolescent boy.
Lovesick? No, that was impossible. He was no boy. He had learned the hard lessons of love by watching the downfall of his father. He was different. His heart was a warrior’s heart—men such as he did not fall in love. He was simply randy and she was a bonny lass. Any man would react the same way toward having such a woman in his bed.
Galen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Anna had not glanced his way all afternoon. The impulsive need for her attention irked him something fierce.
She was being kept quite busy by the two elderly warriors sitting on either side of her who had quickly taken advantage of a free pair of female hands. Both being widowers and living in the keep with Galen to make room for new families in the cottages, the old men always had to wait until one of the household servants had time to tend to their sewing needs. The surprise on Anna’s face had been priceless when John and Owen arrived on either side of her and dumped clothing into her lap. When Catriona flew out of the keep to bring Anna some sewing implements, Galen had bit his tongue to prevent himself from chuckling over the alternating confusion, insult, sympathy and finally acquiescence that had played across Anna’s face.
He ran his hand through his hair, unable to tear his eyes away from her. His heart tightened as she tossed her long, shiny red curls over her shoulder and turned her full attention to her sewing. A desperate need to press her soft, willing body beneath him in his bed caused his cock to harden. He wanted to taste her, make her come with his mouth while she cried his name.