But, the voice whispered back, she wouldn’t just be searching blind. She had a connection: Garrick.
He had said that he was working for the Bruce and the rebels, though he had been evasive about saying more. Perhaps he could help her reach the rebellion’s secret location, maybe even introduce her to someone who could help her within the movement. At least he could point her in the right direction.
Based on Garrick’s reticence, though, she doubted he would be eager or even willing to help her. She would just have to convince him that not only was she in earnest about helping Scotland secure its freedom, but that she was strong and capable enough to continue on without him to the rebel headquarters.
She would also have to wait for the right time and phrasing. After their sharp words to each other, she very much doubted Garrick would want to help someone whom he thought was not only naïve but also still protecting her cruel English brother.
The first step to her new plan would be to apologize to him.
She gave up all hope of finding sleep and sat up inside the shelter. She felt the same surge of energy she had experienced when she had decided to escape from Dunbraes to Scotland several days ago. She was taking charge of her life, making her own decisions, and forging her own path. Her brother’s determined search for her and her two companions wouldn’t stop her, nor would Garrick’s willingness—or unwillingness—to help her.
She peered out through the branches that served as a makeshift door to her shelter. The clouds had blown away, and the silvery light of the half-moon illuminated their small camp. No fire glowed in the fire pit several feet from the entrance of her lean-to, but she saw a shadowy lump huddled in front of it. As her eyes adjusted, she thought she could make out the color and pattern of the Sinclair plaid covering the form on the ground.
Just then, the form rolled over, and she could see Garrick’s profile as he lay on his back. She could tell his eyes were open, for the moonlight danced in them. Even still, they were dark pools, appearing nearly black in the low light.
She moved the branches aside, crawled out of the shelter, and stood, brushing off her skirt. He turned his head and watched her draw nearer as if he had sensed long ago that she was awake and about to approach. She wouldn’t put it past his knowledge, she thought as she stopped in front of him. He had an uncanny ability to anticipate things just before they happened, and his senses seemed honed to a razor-sharpness.
She knelt down at his side, but he remained silent, his dark eyes following her.
“I wanted to…apologize,” she began somewhat awkwardly. She had felt so confident and sure of herself a moment ago, but something about his eyes, unreadable in the low light, made her feel unnerved, and her stomach fluttered. The memory of their last kiss flew unbidden into her mind, and the flutter turned into a full flip. She took a breath and forced her insides to calm down, chastising herself for her unruly thoughts.
“I shouldn’t have said you were a cold-blooded killer. You have shown me nothing but kindness and gentleness through this whole…ordeal. And though I was upset at the thought that you would kill my brother—my only living family left—I understand your reasons.”
There. That hadn’t been so hard, she told herself, though her voice had been tight as she spoke. It was only because the thought of Garrick killing her brother did indeed still frighten her. It had nothing to do with his steely-black eyes pinning her as he sat up, closing some of the distance between them. And even though it was part of her larger plan to enlist his aid, she surprised herself by meaning what she had said about understanding why he would have shot her brother.
The silence stretched, and she began to fidget, but finally he spoke. “I apologize as well. I shouldn’t have called you naïve. Although your brother has kept you away from much of the world, you clearly know more than I do about trust and honor.”
The words came out haltingly, as if he weren’t used to apologizing or having to explain himself. For some reason, that made his words all the more meaningful. A wave of relief flooded through her. She hadn’t realized it before, but his silent anger, and her own angry words hanging in the air between them, had been nearly unbearable.
She cared a great deal about what he thought of her, she realized, and also wanted to see the best in him. It wasn’t just his strikingly handsome visage that made her twist longingly inside; it was also the desire for him to respect and like her. For she couldn’t deny it in herself any longer—she cared for him.
A pang of something like pain shot through her. She had already told herself back in Dunbraes that she couldn’t grow attached to this man, no matter how much the mere sight of him—let alone his touch or kiss—made her heart race and her breath hitch. Yet here she was, another heady and intense kiss later, and she was coming to care for him.
But what could come of all this? She didn’t know when they would part company, since Burke remained in a dangerous stage of infection and her brother and his men still scoured the forest for them. Sooner or later, though, Garrick would continue with his missions for Robert the Bruce, and she would journey on in search of the headquarters of the rebellion to offer her healing skills. They would never get to know each other more, or share more kisses, or—she wasn’t even sure what would come after that, but the dark promise of their passion lingered in her mind, making her think of possibilities that would normally cause her to blush.
Her mind began spinning a new option, though. If they would indeed part ways soon and never see each other again, what was the harm in one more kiss? Her eyes dropped to his lips, which suddenly parted as he breathed a curse. Startled, she jerked her eyes back to his. She was met with the sight of a dark storm of passion just before he closed the remaining distance between them, his lips coming down on hers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Garrick had watched as a sea of change washed over Jossalyn’s delicate features, which were illuminated in the moonlight. Her skin looked like porcelain, and her normally golden hair looked icy blonde in the silvery light. Her eyes were depthless, and he felt like he could drown in those emerald pools a happy man.
He had been listening to her tossing and turning several feet away inside the shelter, and had heard her little sighs, which, despite her distance, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in anticipation—of what, he wouldn’t allow himself to contemplate.
When she had knelt before him, her mouth had been tight with tension, but after they had spoken their apologies, those berry-red lips had parted unconsciously. He watched as she had gone from content but distant to unsure and then finally, a hungry look had transformed her features. Her eyes had drifted to his mouth.
He couldn’t withstand this kind of torture. He knew he shouldn’t want her this badly, and even more importantly, that he shouldn’t act on his desire. But she so clearly desired him, too. How was he supposed to resist this beautiful lass, who had surprised him with her iron will and healing gift, her compassion, and her strength?
He couldn’t fight it anymore—couldn’t fight himself, or her desire.
The first taste of her lips sent a bolt of pleasure through him. Her softness and scent enveloped him instantly as he pulled her to him, pressing their bodies together as he tasted her lips. But it wasn’t enough. He deepened their kiss, his tongue caressing hers, her warm mouth shooting sensation all the way to his cock. He felt her arms snake around his neck, pulling him into their kiss, which only fired his blood more. She wanted him too. She knew at least part of who he was and what he did, and she still wanted him.
He let one hand tangle in her hair, holding her mouth in place, while the other rose to one of her breasts. He nearly groaned aloud at the feel of her firm, soft breast, which fit perfectly into his hand. He imagined what they would look like if he ever got to see her naked. Her flesh would be velvety smooth and the color of fresh cream, and each perfect mound would be tipped in pink, the same color as her lips.
Before he let himself be completely washed away
by the torrent of passion coursing between them, he tore his mouth from hers, leaving both of them panting.
“We can’t do this, lass,” he breathed huskily.
She blinked at him, the haze of desire clouding her eyes. “Why not?”
Christ, that wasn’t a question he was prepared to answer at the moment. He forced himself to speak, though. “Because you are innocent, and as much as you may want this now, you will look back and regret it.”
The words pained him to say, but he had to be an honorable man, at least for once in his life. He had accepted the fact that he was a lone wolf, hunting and killing his prey, but Jossalyn wasn’t just another mark. He could never live with himself if he used her knowing full well they would part ways, probably in a matter of days, and never see each other again. He had to be the one to tell her that she deserved better. A woman of her standing, a lady, couldn’t just give her innocence to a mercenary assassin in the Scottish rebellion.
“Why would I regret being with you, Garrick?” she said as she pulled back a little, more of the fog clearing from her eyes.
“Do you know what you’re saying, lass? You’re a virgin. You’ll never be a virgin again if we keep going.”
She faltered for a moment, her eyes shifting away from his. “I just…I just want…”
He saw the struggle play out on her moonlit features, and understood exactly how she felt. He, too, wanted something that he shouldn’t or couldn’t have.
But then she took a steadying breath and went on, more firmly this time. “All my life, I have been told what to do. First, my parents taught me how to act like a lady, telling me I couldn’t run or ride horses too much or look for plants in the forest. Then, my brother took over my life and tried to force me to stop being a healer. He kept me inside whenever he could and was working on a marriage arrangement just before I left that would benefit his position, but would mean all but the end of my life.”
Garrick’s hands, which had fallen away from Jossalyn as she spoke, clenched in frustration on her behalf.
She sighed, collecting her thoughts for a moment, then went on. “I’m so tired of everyone telling me what’s best for me or trying to control me. I left Dunbraes with you the first time because I wanted to make my own choices, to start my own life. And I’m glad you took me away the second time, during the attack.”
She shuddered slightly. He guessed that she was remembering the scene of the battle. His stomach sank, her reaction reminding him that a healer could never be with a warrior, a killer. But then her words surprised him.
“I’m glad because I have another chance at freedom, at being in control of my own life. I want to stay in Scotland and be a healer.” She paused and bit her lower lip, seeming to hold something back.
He almost pushed her to tell him what else was lurking behind her deep green eyes, but she spoke before he could.
“And I want to be here with you, and…kiss you again.”
Her words sent a jolt through him. He suddenly felt humbled that this lass wanted him in this moment. Who was he to tell her what to do or what she should want—or not want? But he still feared she didn’t know what would come after kissing if they were to give over to their desire. She was innocent, and though she had surely been drilled from the time she could crawl to guard her virginity with her life, she didn’t seem to know what it would mean to let it go—both between them, and after, when she would find some other man to love and marry.
The thought of another man being the recipient of Jossalyn’s love and passion sent a spike of pain and rage through him. He wanted to be that man. But he never would be, at least not in the long term.
Yet a voice whispered in the back of his mind that he was here now, and she had made it clear that she wanted him. Even if it couldn’t last, he could have a taste of paradise for a moment. He would be able to hold on to the memory for the rest of his life.
He wouldn’t take her innocence, however. Though rusty from disuse, his sense of honor was still intact enough to know that he would be responsible if he used her and then left her to deal with the consequences.
“You know I want you too,” he said. It felt foreign to lay himself bare like that, but for some reason, he was able to speak his heart to her. “There are…things we can do that will still leave you intact,” he said, a strange mix of awkwardness at his words and anticipation of what they meant coursing through him.
Her eyes widened slightly. “More than kissing?”
He felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. “Aye, lass, if that’s what you want. More than kissing, but I won’t take your innocence.”
Even in the dim moonlight, he could see the blush creeping up to her cheeks. “I didn’t know…that is, I didn’t realize that there were things…in-between…”
He let his fingertips brush against her heated cheeks. His eyes locked on hers, and he moved in slowly, deliberately, for another kiss. Her lips unconsciously parted as he drew closer, hitching his desire higher. This time, he tried to communicate to her through his kiss all the longing he had for her just below the surface, and the dark promise of what they would share.
Her arms snaked back around his neck, which was all the indication he needed. He scooped her into his arms and stood, catching the plaid he had been using as a blanket as it slid from him. He strode away from their makeshift camp to give them more privacy from Burke’s presence and approached the slow-moving creek several dozen yards ahead through the trees. When he reached a little open area right next to the creek, he set her on her feet but held her close for another promise-laden kiss.
He broke their contact just long enough to spread his plaid out on the soft ground, and then pulled her down on it next to him. He could hear that her breaths were fast and shallow in anticipation. He kissed her again, this time deeper. Part of him kept thinking she would turn away from him or push him back, changing her mind about wanting to be with him. But instead, she pulled him closer, her hands weaving into his hair, which had come loose from its normally tidy queue at the nape of his neck.
He leaned toward her so that she reclined down onto his plaid. He pulled his mouth from hers so he could drink in the sight of her. Her pale blonde hair was splayed out across the dark reds of his clan colors, and her lips were swollen and red in the moonlight.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he said on an exhale. There was no way he deserved to be here with her now, but he didn’t want to question it. Instead, he rested his weight on one elbow and let his hand skim across the narrow part of her waist and brush over the rise of one of her breasts. She shuddered and inhaled at his touch, and his already hard cock pressed even more firmly into her hip.
He lowered his mouth to hers yet again and let his tongue caress and tease her while his thumb brushed over the peak of her breast. She arched into his hand, so he made the contact firmer. Through the material of her dress and chemise, he could feel her nipple harden under his touch. He let one of his legs settle between her thighs, and she raised one of her knees, hugging him closer and pressing his thigh into the crux between her legs. She made a little noise that was half-sigh, half-moan against his mouth. He couldn’t believe how much passion she contained within her, how eager and hungry she was for his touch.
He made a trail of kisses from her mouth, across her cheek, and to her ear. He nibbled the lobe for a moment, his blood firing at her gasp of surprise. Then he drew his lips down the smooth, slim column of her neck. He could feel her rapid pulse beating hard there.
He moved to her collar bone, and lower still to the slight swell of her breasts at the neckline of her dress. She twisted and clenched her leg around his thigh harder as his lips brushed over the sensitive flesh while his thumb still swirled over the peak of her breast. Her hands clutched his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh, which only made him more ravenous.
Suddenly impatient to increase both of their pleasure, he pressed his hips into hers, letting his cock rub just above the junction between her legs. Th
ey both breathed heavily at the contact, and he realized he had to stop himself before he did exactly what he said he wouldn’t.
He rolled back off her slightly but let his hand trail from her breast across her waist, over her hip, and down her bent leg. His fingertips brushed the hem of her dress, and his hand found her ankle. He wrapped his fingers around it easily, enjoying the feel of her delicate bones, and then slid his hand farther up to her calf, which was stocking-free due to the warmth of summer.
Her breath hitched even more as his hand continued to rise up her leg. His fingers lingered on the back of her knee, causing her to gasp and jerk a little. As he inched one hand higher, he let his other hand slip under her back while still keeping his elbow under him to support his weight. He fumbled for a moment but eventually found the ties running down the back of her dress and tugged them loose.
He moved his mouth back onto hers even as he continued to loosen the ties of her dress, while his other hand continued to travel up the smooth flesh of her thigh. He had to have more of her skin exposed to his eyes and mouth.
Finally, he had her dress loosened enough so he could sit up part way and tug gently at the material on her shoulders. She shimmied her shoulders, helping him pull down her dress. Her white chemise glowed in the moonlight as he got her dress past her breasts. Then he went to work on the ties of her chemise, but kept his other hand on her soft thigh. But he was losing patience. He didn’t bother loosening her chemise very much, and instead, pulled it down over first one of her creamy shoulders and then the other.
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