“This is about your brother Ronan, isn’t it?” she asked.
“I need to know if he is among them and needs freeing.”
“If he is?” she asked, shaking her head. “You have so few men to be able to help him.”
“Again, I am not a foolish warrior,” Lachlan reminded. “I have coins to offer for his release and if not…” He shrugged. “I send word to my brother Cavan and he will lead a force of men here to free our brother. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of Angus Bunnock’s men joined him. It would be his way of showing gratitude to our clan for helping him and having his own men ascertain that his daughter was dead and buried on hallowed ground.”
Terese blanched and her legs grew weak. That couldn’t happen; her father’s men would recognize her and forcibly return her home.
Lachlan slipped his arms around her. “You pale and shiver. What—”
She hugged him tight. “I don’t want anything to happen to you…to us.”
He kissed her gently. “Nothing can ever happen to us. I promise you that.”
She watched him disappear among the mayhem and knew he had given her a promise that he didn’t know he would not be able to keep. If he ever discovered the truth, they would no longer be friends.
Terese pushed the worrisome thought from her head and found Rowena, secured a healing basket, and joined Piper with less worry of discovery since Lachlan had already taken his leave. His men paid her movements no heed, too busy scouting the perimeter of the convent.
It didn’t take long for Piper and her to reach the injured man and at first glance both of them knew that he would need more care than either Terese or Piper could give. And his formidable size would be a problem. Piper could stand behind him and not be seen.
Terese looked at Septimus. “We need to get him to Rowena. She is the only one skilled enough to stitch such a severe wound and tend him if he is to have any chance of surviving.”
Septimus didn’t argue. “Two of my men will get him there for you.”
Terese nodded and then did something she didn’t want to do but knew she had no choice. “Tell your leader that Lachlan of the clan Sinclare and two of his men are tracking your group. He intends to spy on you.”
Septimus nodded. “He was right. You are good to have as a friend rather than a foe.”
Terese felt like no friend betraying Lachlan, but her survival depended on it. And she didn’t fear for Lachlan’s safety, for she knew the leader would never hurt him or his men.
“Piper will keep you informed of your man’s condition,” Terese said.
“Your help is greatly appreciated,” Septimus acknowledged with a bow of his head.
“You don’t seem the kind to be a mercenary,” Terese couldn’t help but say.
“There was a time none of us were,” he said and with another bow of his head, turned and left.
It was late evening when quiet returned to Everagis. Everyone was settled and fed and the injured had been cared for and were resting comfortably. Rowena continued to tend Talon, the wounded mercenary. His leg injury had required thirty stitches and she now sat with him, worried that he would develop a fever. Though his size and rough features would have most fearing him, he was grateful and polite to Rowena. Once again Terese wondered over the origin of the mercenaries.
Terese lingered around the grounds later that evening in hope of Lachlan returning. When it grew late and exhaustion finally took hold, she gave up and, disappointed, went to bed. She woke with a start when it was still dark and anxiously threw on her skirt and blouse. With hurried though quiet steps she made her way up the narrow hall into the large room of the common house and rushed to the door. She halted, her hand on the metal latch, and took a deep breath.
She knew Lachlan had returned and waited. She sensed his presence. How? She could find no sensible answer. She only knew that he eagerly waited for her as eagerly as she wanted to go to him.
She opened the door slowly, for a moment thinking perhaps this was all a dream and then she saw him.
He stood with his arms folded across his chest, a slight pitch to his stance, and the half-moon spotlighted a charming smile on his handsome face.
She felt her breath catch, her heart flutter, and her flesh tingle. She wanted this man, needed him and so without further thought, guilt, or regret she ran to him.
His arms spread wide and she ran into them. They wrapped lovingly, protectively and strongly around her and for a sheer moment she felt as if she had arrived home. The thought near buckled her legs.
“I knew if I stood here long enough that my mere presence would wake you.”
She kept the tremble from her laughter, though it was no easy task, for it rippled through her entire body. “You did wake me.” She hesitated almost afraid to give voice to the truth. “I could feel you.”
“My magic worked,” he whispered. “For while I stood here, I envisioned touching you.”
“Where?” she dared ask.
His hand slipped slowly beneath her blouse and she knew he waited to see if she would stop him.
When she didn’t, he whispered, “Here.”
She startled when he gently scooped up her full breast in his cool hand and ran his thumb across her nipple until it hardened at his will. Her already weak knees almost gave way, especially when his lips and teeth began to nibble along her neck and up along her ear, sending a myriad of tingling sensations rushing over her flesh.
“That’s just the start of where I plan to touch you,” he murmured and continued nibbling.
This time her knees did waver, but his arm caught her firm around the waist.
“You’ll sleep with me tonight,” he said softly.
It wasn’t a question or a command. It was simply what they both wanted, and he knew it just as she did.
“I will be yours tonight,” she said willingly.
“And every night, and day and morning and afternoon and—”
She giggled for he punctuated each reference with a nibble and a kiss. “Have you the stamina?” she teased, feeling as insatiable as he.
He released her and staggered backward with a hand to his heart. “You wound me, woman.”
She laughed and sauntered over to him. “I heal all wounds with a kiss.”
He grinned. “I have a lot of wounds.”
Her voice was low and whispery. “Show me.”
He tapped where his hand rested at his heart. “Here.”
Her hand reached in his shirt and slowly spread it open. Then she splayed her hand on his chest, her body further titillated by the warmth of his flesh and his hard muscles. She had no experience with intimacy, though she wasn’t ignorant of it, she and the other women talked about men and sex. The women who were familiar with it advised those that weren’t that it came more naturally than one would expect and to trust your instincts when the time came.
She found that her instincts were much more aware than she was and so she freed them and followed their lead, which was why she did not pause when she felt the urge to kiss his wounds and make them all better, so very much better.
Warm and delicious, that was how he tasted and the need to nibble at his flesh and sample his nipple with a light flick of her tongue caused a jolt to them both.
Lachlan grabbed hold of her arms and forced her an arm’s-length away. “We need to go to my cottage now.”
She nibbled at her bottom lip missing the taste of him.
“Stop that,” he ordered with a gruff groan.
“I like the flavor of you,” she whispered. “I’d like to taste more.”
Lachlan’s groan turned deep and urgent, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him as he marched off.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get far.
“Terese!”
She knew from the frantic call there was a problem and being it was Rowena, it could mean only one thing. There was a problem with the mercenary. She stopped, forcing Lachlan to halt, though he did so with an annoyed g
runt.
“I need your help,” Rowena said.
“Can’t someone else help?” Lachlan asked a bit sharply.
“I’m sorry,” Rowena said with sincere regret. “I need Terese’s help.”
“Whatever for?” Lachlan demanded.
“That doesn’t concern you,” Terese snapped. “If one of the women needs another we do not bother to ask why. We are there.”
“Let someone else be there,” Lachlan argued.
Terese yanked her hand out of his. “No. When I am needed I go without question.”
Lachlan grabbed hold of her arm and pressed his cheek to hers to whisper harshly, “I need you.”
“And I you,” she assured him, “but first I must see to this.”
“You make me wait?” he challenged.
“I am worth the wait,” she murmured in his ear and felt him shiver.
“Then I will wait no matter how long it takes,” he assured her, his tone more tempered.
She kissed his cheek. “I will do my best to make it quick.”
He grinned. “I on the other hand will not be quick.”
Terese laughed as he reluctantly released her and she hurried to Rowena
He called out, “I’ll wait at the cottage.”
She acknowledged him with a wave and followed Rowena into the house, asking quickly, “What’s wrong?”
“Megan suffered a wound early yesterday and foolishly ignored it, too busy tending others.”
“Is it bad?”
“It wouldn’t have been if she let me see to it right away. It already shows signs of poisoning.”
“We can’t let that happen,” Terese said and the two women immediately went to work on Megan. It took longer then either woman expected, Terese busy bathing the wound with a special brew that would hopefully flush away any poisons, while Rowena mixed a paste to be applied. Another brew was prepared to help Megan rest. Just when they thought all was done, Talon roused with a slight fever and the two women went to work on him.
It was near dawn by the time Terese was free to take her leave and at first she thought it was too late, Lachlan would have never waited for her. Tired as she was, she was more curious so she crept silently through the convent grounds and just as quietly eased open Lachlan’s cottage door.
The only sound in the one room was the crackle and snap of the fire in the hearth. As she approached Lachlan where he lay on his side in bed, she saw that he was asleep. His chest was bare and she admired his sleek muscled lines and grew curious when she noticed how the blanket rested low on his hip, meaning he was completely naked beneath.
Instead of passion striking her, a yawn did and she knew she was too tired to do anything but sleep.
“Damn,” she whispered, annoyed yet again that they had lost the chance to be together. She was about to turn and leave when she heard.
“My sentiments exactly.”
She looked and saw his eyes open and her heart gave a quick catch. “You waited.”
“I’ve slept on and off, each time hoping when I opened my eyes you’d be there.”
“And now I am here…but—” Another yawn demonstrated what she was about to reluctantly tell him. She was tired.
“I am as tired as you,” he said,” though I’d love you to sleep beside me.”
He eased the blanket back just enough to invite and not tease.
She smiled at his thoughtfulness and his invitation and without hesitation she joined him, though she kept her clothes on. She rested her back to him and he in turn wrapped her solidly in his arms.
“I’m glad you came even though you were tired,” he whispered and kissed her cheek.
“And I’m glad you waited,” she murmured as they both drifted off to sleep together.
Chapter 14
Lachlan watched Terese sleep. She purred like a contented kitten and he smiled. She felt good in his arms, so good that he wanted to keep her there, not let her go. Not now, not ever.
He rested his head back on the pillow and drank in the scent of her hair that simply intoxicated him, but then everything about her made him drunk with joy. These feelings were strange to him; while he enjoyed many women none had the affect on him that Terese did, and right from the start.
Lord, but he thought he would suffer for his unholy thoughts about a nun and how relieved he was and pleased, ever so pleased, to discover that she was simply a woman, though simply did not describe Terese.
No, she was complex, courageous, thoughtful, beautiful, and…his.
He shook his head. He had always reserved his opinion on women after he bedded them, not so with Terese. He cared for her more than he wanted to admit. He truly enjoyed time spent with her and it mattered not what they did. They could sit in silence and watch the sun rise or set, it didn’t matter; it was being with her that made the difference.
He had found himself looking forward to each and every day because he would see her, talk with her, laugh with her, tease her, and kiss her. He loved kissing her. She tasted so sweet, and she was as hungry for him as he was for her.
Damn, could he be falling in love?
He had no plans to fall in love, but then Cavan’s wife Honora had warned him often enough that love arrived in its own time. He, however, had objected, insisting he would be spared love’s burden. Had he tempted fate?
He buried his face in her wheat-colored hair and blessed fate, for the heavens had been generous to him. He grinned, thinking he sounded like his love-besotted brothers, and he almost laughed aloud envisioning their responses to his predicament.
She stirred in his arms and began to stretch her limbs, moaning as she surfaced from sleep. He gave her room and enjoyed the view, watching her arch her back, her round breasts almost greeting his face. She raised her legs in a lazy stretch and rounded her ankles, hearing a crack or two. A huge yawn preceded her eyes fluttering open and once she caught sight of him peering down at her, she startled and crumpled into herself as if trying to hide.
“Forgot where you were?”
She nodded, her eyes wide.
He smiled. “You are beauty and grace when you wake in the morning.”
“Truly?” she asked astonished.
“My word on it,” he whispered and was about to kiss her when his door crashed open.
Andrew rushed in. “Megan is—”
He blanched. “Sorry I interrupted, but…” He looked to Terese and she bounced out of bed.
“Has Megan grown worse?”
“She has a fever. She’s burning up,” Andrew ranted.
Terese fled the cottage without a backward glance.
Lachlan shook his head and glared at Andrew. “How bad truly is it?”
“Rowena told me Megan had a fever.”
“And that she was burning up?”
“Fevers do that,” Andrew said in his defense.
“So you assumed Megan was burning up,” Lachlan said and got out of bed to dress quickly.
“What difference does it make, Megan is ill.”
Lachlan placed a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “I know you’re beside yourself with worry, but you stole Terese from me.”
“Would you not have done the same if it were Terese ill with fever?”
Lachlan nodded slowly and led Andrew out of the cottage. “Let’s go see how Megan is, though I must ask. What would you have done to me if it was you in bed with Megan?”
Terese was panting and had a stitch in her side by the time she reached the common house. She entered to an empty room and immediately grew concerned. This was the time the women would be gathered for the morning meal with more than one busy preparing the food.
She made her way down the hall fearful of what she would find, and when she heard a shrill cry from Megan’s room she ran the last few feet.
Terese entered to find Rowena, Hester, and Piper crowded in the small room all laughing and sharing the morning meal with Megan, who was sitting up in bed and looking her usual rosy self.
Pipe
r bounced to her feet, holding her bowl of porridge tight. “What’s wrong?”
Terese sighed. “Nothing, though Andrew—”
“That big idiot arrived here looking for Megan,” Rowena said. “And as soon as I mentioned fever, he turned deathly pale and took off running.”
Terese smiled. “He’s worried senseless. He believes Megan is about to meet her demise and had me believing it as well. Burning with fever, he told me.”
“He truly is worried about me?” Megan asked.
“Like a fool in love,” Rowena said.
“I agree,” Hester piped in. “The man is besotted.”
Piper added her agreement. “He follows you around like a love-sick pup.”
“I haven’t noticed it,” Megan said, though a hint of a smile told otherwise.
“Then you’re either blind or a fool,” Hester said.
Megan’s expression turned hard. “I was a fool once; I will be one no more.”
The women turned quiet and then Hester spoke.
“Perhaps it’s a man’s turn to be foolish in love with you.”
Hope sprang in Megan’s face though only briefly. It vanished as fast as it had appeared. “I will not be hurt again. The last one almost killed me.”
The women remained quiet, not knowing Megan’s past but knowing, from the way she had been badly beaten when they found her, she had suffered greatly at the hands of a man. A man who had claimed to love her.
It was Piper who suggested, “Why not give Andrew a chance?”
Hester added her opinion. “He seems like a good man.”
Before Rowena or Terese could offer their own thoughts, a rapid pounding sounded at the door, followed by two more bursts until it suddenly stopped.
Terese laughed. “I bet Lachlan grabbed Andrew’s hand before he could pound again.”
The women all grinned and suddenly made excuses to take their leave.
“What are you doing?” Megan demanded with a note of panic.
“Giving you time to get to know Andrew,” Hester said and scooted out the door, followed by Piper. Terese was about to take her leave, Rowena having already gone to answer the door, when Megan grabbed her hand.
The Angel and the Highlander Page 11