Highland Avenger

by Julie Johnstone

  The need to relieve herself dragged Eve from her slumber. As she struggled to come fully awake, she became aware of two things: someone had her wrapped in his very sturdy arms, and she was no longer lying on the ground. Well, she was on the ground, but something soft was under her and covering her. She blinked her eyes open and gasped. Grant’s face was a hairsbreadth from hers, and there was just enough moonlight that she could clearly see that his eyes were wide open and intently upon her.

  “How long have you been awake?” she asked, careful to keep a hushed tone, the sound of snoring coming at her from both Ross and Kade.

  “Since ye fell asleep,” he said in a low voice.

  Eve frowned. “Were you awake when I was talking with Ross and Kade?”

  “Nay. I suppose when ye quit talking, when I could nae hear ye any longer and ken ye were safe and near, it eventually woke me.”

  His words and what they meant struck her to her core. She didn’t know what to say. She was touched—and confused. He’d wed her only because of Linlithian, but his actions kept showing honor and kindness, the sort of things she’d hoped to gain from a marriage of love. She swallowed, and her bladder reminded her of why she’d woken. “I need a private moment,” she whispered, hoping he’d understand.

  “I’ll accompany ye,” he said, unwinding his arms from her, but she grasped him by the hand before he broke all contact.

  Her face heated, but she forced herself to try to be clearer. “I, er, would rather you did not. You see, I—”

  “Dunnae fash yerself, lass,” he said with a low chuckle. “I dunnae intend to watch ye. Just stand guard and be near should ye need me.”

  “Oh.” She found herself smiling at him. “That’s very considerate of you.”

  His fingers curled snugly around her hand, and he pulled her to her feet so fast that when she came up, she was propelled forward into his hard chest with an oof.

  His arms circled her and his lips brushed her ear, making her shiver. His warm breath caressed her skin as he said, “’Tis nae considerate. ’Tis my duty. Ye are my wife now.”

  Some of the warm feelings his actions had given her dissipated. Duty. Of course she was merely a duty. “You may release me,” she said. “I can hardly walk with you clutching me so.”

  “That is likely true,” he said with a chuckle and relinquished his hold on her waist, only to immediately take her hand. When she tried to tug her hand away, he simply increased his grip and started to walk around the fire toward the woods.

  “Is it your duty to hold my hand, too?” she asked, feeling mulish. To her, holding someone’s hand was an intimate gesture and not one of duty.

  “Aye,” he said, walking slightly ahead of her to lead her. “If ye trip and injure yerself, ye will slow us down. I’d rather nae contend with that.”

  She glared at his back as they walked, unsure why it bothered her so much that everything he did for her that indicated a degree of affection was, by his own admission, done out of duty. Suddenly it hit her that he was bare chested. “Did you cover me with your plaid?” she asked.

  “Aye,” he replied without stopping or looking back.

  “Because of duty?” she surmised.

  “Aye. Ye could have caught yer death, and I need ye alive.”

  “Of course,” she muttered, clenching her teeth. “You require me alive in order to sway my men, the men of Linlithian Castle, to accept you and pledge their loyalty to you!” They were far enough away from Kade and Ross now, and into the thick of the woods, that she did not rein in the anger in her voice. She was seething, and she didn’t care if he knew it. The only indication that the stubborn Scot even heard her was his fingers tightening ever so slightly around her hand. For some reason, it increased her vexation tenfold.

  She dug in her heels, leaned away from the direction he was leading her, and threw her words at him like stones, wishing they’d whack him in the head like a big rock. “I’ll have you know, if you intend to seduce a lady into doing your bidding, you might think not to tell her at every turn that she is nothing more to you than a duty!” She gasped at the sudden understanding that his words had hurt her, had injured her pride.

  He stopped in his tracks, and she collided with his back, losing her breath and her footing in the same instant. She flailed her arms to gain balance, and just when she was certain she’d fall, he whipped toward her and clutched her by the wrists, pulling her body tightly to his. Then his hand skimmed up her midriff, over her breasts, and splayed across her chest. The shock of his touch, of the desire he ignited, caused her blood to course through her veins like a wild river.

  “Ye were eavesdropping,” he accused.

  “I wasn’t,” she lied. She was a fool for letting her temper take control of her tongue.

  His teeth flashed white and wolfish in the dark of the night. “Dunnae bother lying. The pitch of yer voice rose ever so slightly, as I’ve told ye, and I ken my sister’s eavesdropping ways.”

  “Well, I know that you do not desire me at all! You simply want me to bend to your will, and you…” She poked him in the chest. “You are so dishonorable that you would…you would…” she sputtered, so angry that her words were jumbled in her head, “you would steal my innocence!”

  “Ye are my wife,” he said, exasperation tingeing his words. “Yer innocence is mine to take. It would nae be stealing. And when I take it, it will be because ye gave it freely, willingly—”

  “Never,” she said, allowing the force of her anger to come through in the one word. She took a deep breath to blast him with more of her vexation, but she was suddenly lifted up, her feet dangling off the ground and her mouth brought directly to his. Before she could protest, his lips, hard and searching, sealed over hers for a demanding kiss. His tongue twined with hers and desire coiled in her belly.

  Fear caused her to whimper, and immediately, her feet touched ground, he broke the kiss, and tremors surged through him so strong that she could feel them in his hands. “God’s blood,” he whispered, the regret in his voice undeniable.

  She brought her own shaking hand to her tender lips, a coil of confusing emotions unraveling inside her. She hated him, but she didn’t hate him at all. She’d been scared, but of her instantaneous lustful response to his ravishing kiss, not of him. For even laced with anger as it had been, she could feel that he’d been careful not to hurt her. She ought to let him think he had; perhaps then he’d keep his distance until she could escape him. Yet, she did not want him to have one more reason to punish himself. “Your kiss—”

  His mouth claimed hers again, reverently, tenderly, begging forgiveness. His kiss shattered the last bit of control she possessed. This time, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes to match the hunger she tasted from him. His demanding lips caressed and cajoled her to part her own, and she did so with wanton eagerness, whimpering with desire when his tongue thrust into her mouth. Their tongues mingled, tempted, and danced until Grant growled and broke the kiss, only to bring his lips to the pulsing hollow at the base of her neck. She hissed with need as he blazed a fiery path across her collarbone to the valley between her breasts, which grew instantly tight in anticipation.

  He stopped his onslaught of passion as quickly as he’d begun it, leaving her panting with yearning. As he moved away from her skin and gazed into her eyes, a knowing light glimmered there. “I wed ye for duty, aye, but I desire ye, and ye desire me, too.”

  Never had she felt so exposed, so vulnerable. “I don’t.” She shook her head for emphasis. Her words sounded utterly ridiculous after the way she’d responded to his kiss. She was no more than someone to sate his lust, and she’d not be that for him or any man.

  He snorted. “Yer words dunnae match what yer body tells me.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to let him make her lose her senses ever again. “My body—and my voice—is telling you no. Will you throw me on the forest floor here and now to satisfy your lust?” she taunted. She was playing a dangerous g
ame, but it seemed the only way. “Will you ravage me?”

  A disgusted look crossed his face. “I told ye I would nae, but ye will eventually yield, Eve, and we will truly be man and wife. Yer body will nae deny me for long, I vow it.”

  He was so arrogant that she wanted to throttle him, but mostly, she was fearful he was right. She was surely wanton, for she desired him with every fiber of her being, despite him admitting that he was using her. She couldn’t stay wed to a man like that. Hope had kept her alive thus far, and that hope had been kept bright by two things: the desire to one day have a love like her parents had possessed, and the yearning for vengeance. Grant was not offering either, and she did not think he ever could, given his past. It was best for her if they parted ways, and soon.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grant shifted his focus from the abbess of the convent to Eve. The abbess had just informed them that Clara had been taken by Eve’s uncle Frederick, and Grant winced at the hope he saw in Eve’s lavender eyes. His wife believed that her uncle coming here was a good thing, but he did not see it that way. He steeled himself for the battle that was about to ensue. He may have been wed to the beguiling lass for only two days, but he knew by now she was stubborn to the core.

  Eve looked from the abbess to him, and the grin that lit her face as bright as the sun faded as she studied him. “Why do you look troubled by the news that my uncle came for Clara?” she practically bellowed. Another thing Grant had learned about his wife was that despite the fact that she was a slip of a lass, she had a temper like a giant and she could voice herself louder than any man he’d ever met.

  Grant inhaled a long breath for patience. He did not want to strain his relationship with Eve any more than it already had been, and not just because he needed her to help him take control of Linlithian. He did need her to do that, and he needed her to be willing to join with him so their marriage would be consummated, but he also wanted Eve as he’d never wanted another woman in his life. “I find it odd that yer uncle showed up here now, after Aros found ye. How did yer uncle ken where to find ye after all these years?”

  Her eyes sparked with obvious ire. His wife was a stunning creature, but he’d been with many striking women in his life. It was not simply her beauty that called to the most primal part of him. He didn’t know if it was because she was his wife or if it was because she was like a knot he had an itch to untangle. He could normally figure out a lass rather quickly, but Eve baffled him. He’d tried to make it clear that he was honorable and would always fulfill his duty to her, and it had seemed to only vex her. She’d made it clear that she wanted to return home, and he’d assumed it was because she felt a duty to her family, so he’d thought duty would mean as much to her as it did to him.

  She waved an angry finger in his face. Kade and Ross both glanced at him with expectant looks. He supposed they thought he ought to put a stop to Eve’s bold behavior now, and God’s truth, they were probably correct. But he did not want to trample his wife’s spirit if he did not need to. He rather liked it, as long as it could be controlled enough not to lead her into harm.

  “You’re a cynic,” she accused.

  “I’m realistic, not cynical,” he said with as much restraint as he could muster. The woman could spark his temper faster than his sister could, and that said a great deal. “Be logical, Eve. The MacDougalls wanted ye for themselves. When they heard the song from the bard that I did, they came straight here for ye.

  “Well, mayhap my uncle or one of his men was at that tavern,” she said, “and heard the bard as well.”

  “Mayhap,” Grant said, “but then why would yer uncle nae have come straight here as Aros obviously did. Why would yer uncle have waited until yesterday?”

  Confusion, hurt, and then anger flashed across Eve’s face in the most fascinating display of emotions he’d ever seen. “Perhaps my uncle had to return home for his men,” she said with a stubborn lilt to her voice.

  Ross snorted at that, and Grant shot a warning look at his friend. Her uncle was clearly important to her. Believing him good was also clearly important to her, and Grant understood why. Her uncle was all she had left. He was her only true family. Of course, she did not yet consider herself a Fraser. Grant would have to show her little by little that she was now part of the Fraser clan. “Ye have been missing for eight years, Eve. If my niece had been taken and missing for eight years, the Devil himself could nae slow me down from being reunited with her.” He hoped his words showed her just how important family was to him, which meant she was now that important, as well. But when she frowned, he felt his own brow furrow.

  “My uncle came for me. That’s all that matters,” she attested. “I was not here, and so, of course, he took Clara.”

  “Clara did not want to go,” the abbess said.

  “Clara is a suspicious old woman,” Eve grumbled, but a fond smile pulled at her lips. “She ended up going willingly, yes?”

  The abbess bit her lip, but then she nodded. “I assumed it was willing. Your uncle spoke with her privately in her room, and when they came out, she told me all was well and that she would see you soon. That we were not to worry.”

  “There! You see,” Eve exclaimed. “Clara knows Uncle Frederick, and he set her mind at ease. She imagined things while we were in hiding that were never so. I’m not vexed anymore,” Eve said, more to herself than Grant or anyone else.

  “Were ye vexed at her, lass?” Grant asked.

  Eve looked suddenly regretful. “Yes, but I will set it all to rights when I see her. We can go there at once. How long will it take us to journey from here to Linlithian? A sennight?”

  Grant’s jaw slipped open at Eve’s lack of knowledge regarding where her home had been. But then, she had not been there since she was ten summers, so she likely would not know. Except he would have thought Clara would have told her. “Nay, lass. The Valley of Blood is but a half-day’s ride from here.”

  She frowned, looking as if she were trying to puzzle something out. She finally said, “My uncle must have truly believed me dead.”

  Or he’d hoped, anyway, Grant thought to himself, clenching his jaw on the statement until he knew the truth.

  Eve turned to the abbess. “I must leave at once. I’m sorry, Sister Mary Margaret. I would have liked to visit with you, but—”

  “’Tis all right, Eve. I understand. I have a parting gift for you, though, if you will come with me to my room?”

  Eve nodded, linked her arm through the nun’s, and departed without a backward glance. Grant watched her walk away, his eyes drawn to the feminine sway of her hips. She’d demanded to know if he’d intended to satisfy his lust upon her in the forest, and it had taken all his restraint not to do just that. He wanted Eve with a fierceness that defied reason, but he wanted her willing.

  He faced Ross and Kade, who both looked at him expectantly. He knew they wanted to hear what he planned to do. “We’ll take Eve back to Dithorn, and then we will go to Linlithian with an army. I hope her uncle will peacefully relinquish the castle to me, since Eve is my wife—”

  “He will likely want proof,” Ross interrupted. “We should bring the lass with us.”

  Grant shook his head. “Nay. If he’s nae honorable, as my gut tells me he’s nae, then I kinnae chance Eve being near enough for him to take her.”

  “Do ye think he’d hurt his own niece?” Kade asked.

  “I dunnae ken,” Grant replied. “But until I ken the sort of man he is, I kinnae risk it. He likely will nae be happy she is wed to me, and as she is nae happy about it, either—” not yet, he thought, but he was hopeful Eve would come around, given her attraction to him—“it would be easy enough for them to have the marriage dissolved and Eve wed to another.”

  “They kinnae dissolve a marriage made true,” Kade insisted.

  Ross shook his head at Kade. “Ye clot-heid. ’Tis what Grant is trying to tell us. He has nae joined with his bride.”

  Kade’s brows dipped together, and he regarded
Grant quizzically. “Dunnae try to tell me ye dunnae find Eve bonny,” Kade said slowly.

  “Nay, I find her verra pleasing to look at. What I dunnae find pleasing is the thought of having to ravage her to make our marriage true.”

  “I always told ye that yer honor would cause ye problems with the lassies,” Ross teased, but Grant knew by his friend not protesting Grant’s decision that he wholeheartedly agreed with it.

  Kade shifted back and forth, too well trained to question his laird aloud but not so well trained that he could hide that he was near bursting with the desire to do so. “Speak yer piece without fear,” Grant ordered Kade.

  “Laird,” Kade began, “if ye should lose the lass—”

  “I’ll nae,” Grant clipped. “If I were to lose her, I’d fail the king, I’d fail the clan, and I’d fail my father and brother once again. Eve will stay my wife whether she likes it or nae.” Though he could not deny that he would prefer her to like it, to like him. “I will secure the castle for Bruce and avenge my brother, and I will do so with honor.” And it was not only dishonorable but repugnant for any man to take a woman, even a wife, without her consent. “Eve will return to Dithorn, and ye will personally guard her until I return,” Grant went on. “I’ll leave half the men to keep our castle safe, and I will bring the other half to Linlithian Castle. I’ll take it if I must.”

  “I’d like to accompany ye to Linlithian,” Ross said.

  Grant locked gazes with his friend. “I was hoping ye’d say that, but what of Bruce? Should ye nae return to his side and aid his flight to safety?”