“But—”
He couldn’t stand to see the hurt in her eyes, and instead turned and walked through the trees. His body had reacted to her in a way he thought to never feel again, but for how long? Even as the cold rain penetrated his clothes and his thoughts began to rule him, his body betrayed him once again.
“Where’re you going?” He heard Megan demand.
“To find shelter.”
“Oh.” He heard her tromping through the underbrush, following him. “Shouldn’t we go towards the road?”
“The nearest village is quite a ways by the road. I’m hoping we’ll come across a farm or something.”
“What about the horses?” she asked just as he raised his hand to indicate she should halt. “What do you hear?”
“Shhh,” he said and then gave a shrill whistle. They stood very still while Draco came into view. “Good boy,” Liam said as he approached his horse.
“I don’t understand,” Megan said.
“Come now, have you never trained a horse to be ground tied?”
“No.”
“Well, Draco is. He might run, but not far as long as his reins are touching the ground.” Liam checked the cinch on his saddle and once satisfied, he mounted. He then kicked his left boot free of the stirrup and held his hand out to her. He noticed she looked at him hesitantly. “You can walk if you prefer.” He smiled when he felt her place her hand in his and swing up behind him in the saddle. The smile disappeared when she wrapped her arms around his waist and wiggled close to him. Her breasts pressed deliciously against his back. In fact, he could feel her entire body from chest to pelvis as she wiggled close. “What are you doing?”
“You don’t want me to fall off, do you?”
“No,” he said, hoarsely and shifted in the saddle.
“Are we going to stay here sitting on this horse, or are we going to find shelter?”
“Right,” Liam said, and prodded Draco to start walking. The rain grew heavier and some time later Draco stumbled in a hole. Liam pulled him to a halt. “Get down,” he called over the rain, and assisted Megan in dismounting before following her.
“Is he all right?”
“I think so,” he said after checking all four of his legs. “I just don’t want to risk him.”
“I agree. I can walk.” They walked side-by-side in silence. They crested a small hill and saw a clearing at the base with an old hut and lean-to. Patiently munching on the grass was Justin’s wayward horse, saddle and saddlebags intact.
“Wait here,” Liam said after rummaging through his saddlebag and pulling out a pistol.
“But—”
He gave her a look that ended her argument. “If you hear gunshots, don’t wait to see how it turns out. Get on Draco and go. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Good.” Liam gripped her chin and tilted her face upwards. He tenderly kissed her before moving down the hill.
* * *
Megan watched Liam from the safety of the trees, her fingers hovered on her tingling lips. As he moved, she knew that five years of instincts had taken over. She watched the stealthy way he dashed across the landscape, staying low and hidden behind whatever natural shield he could find. He approached the shack first, edging along the front until he reached the door. She held her breath as he kicked it in, gun pointed and ready. A sigh of relief escaped her when he reappeared without having fired a shot. She anxiously stared as he moved to the falling down lean-to where her borrowed horse stood munching on grass. In a few minutes, Liam rushed out, looking wildly towards where he had left her. She wondered what was wrong when she felt a steely hand clap over her mouth and an arm wrap tightly about her ribs. Megan struggled against her captor, but it got her nowhere.
“Calm down now, love,” he whispered in her ear. The man’s fetid breath made her want to gag. “I thought we had left you and your gent back by the road.”
“What have you got, Billy?”
Megan looked for Liam, but he had disappeared. Had he left her in the hands of these two criminals? She squirmed and tried to bite down on Billy’s hand until she heard a tell-tale click and felt a pressure against her temple. She instantly stilled, barely breathing.
“That’s better,” the other fiend cooed. “You’re a feisty little filly. We’re goin’ to have quite some fun breakin’ ye’, aren’t we, Billy?”
Billy laughed and placed slobbery kisses along her neck. “She tastes good, Sam,” Billy said. “Sweet,” he licked her neck. Megan shivered with repulsion.
A twig snapped and Sam spun, taking his gun off her. Between the rain and Billy’s loosened grasp, Megan slipped free. She heard a gunshot and saw Sam sprawled on the ground, a bullet hole in his forehead, and a growing pool of blood around his head.
“Sam!” Billy screamed.
Megan dove for the dead man’s gun. Billy turned and raced towards the area where he heard the shot fired from. He yelled and stumbled almost simultaneously, but he quickly recovered and continued to move through the trees. She raced on and prayed she could outrun the lumbering oaf. Megan finally pulled just even with him.
“Oh, Billy,” she singsonged breathlessly. The cretin jolted to a stop and swung around to look at her, his eyes full of rage. She didn’t hesitate. With the pistol already leveled at him, she merely adjusted her aim and squeezed the trigger. She almost matched Liam’s shot perfectly. The giant gave a strange grunt, took an unsteady step towards her, then fell face first into the wet soil. The gun felt heavy to her. She let her hand fall against her leg, the pistol still held firmly in her grasp. Megan stared at the still body. Strong male arms crushed her to a firm body. She pounded and clawed against the man’s hold until finally, the words he crooned to her penetrated the frightened haze she found herself in.
“Megan, love, look at me.” Liam cupped her face with both hands and tilted her head back.
“I shot him. I had to. He would have killed you and then… I shot him,” she mumbled.
“Let’s get you warm and dry.” He relieved her of the pistol, swung her up in his arms, and trekked down the hill.
Megan curled into him, accepting the heat his body offered her. She peeked over his shoulder to make certain the two highwaymen remained where they were. As if two dead men could follow you, she chastised herself. Dead, she thought, horrified. I killed someone. Megan pressed her mouth against Liam’s wet, cloth-covered shoulder as she strove to stifle the hysterical sob that crawled up her throat in an attempt to break free. She had killed animals before for food, but never had she killed another person. But if you had not killed him, he would have killed you, or worse, she reminded herself.
When they reached the bottom of the hill, he quickly crossed the flat, open land to the hut. Once inside, he lowered her to a rickety, wooden chair. He reached behind his neck and gently pried her hands free. Megan watched him drop a kiss on each of them. She bit her lower lip and tears clung perilously to her lashes.
“Here now, there’ll be none of that.” Liam brushed away the tears with his thumbs. He tugged her lower lip free of her straight, white teeth. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, then brushed a kiss across her lips.
She watched him leave the hut…and her. Megan drew her legs up and wrapped her arms about them. Only one other time had she felt this immobilized, this powerless. She dropped her forehead to her knees and tremors took over her body. Her teeth chattered. Memories of the distant past mixed with what just happened, and they threatened to overwhelm her. She lost track of time. A loud crash sounded outside. Megan screamed and jumped to her feet. She sprinted across the room, threw open the door, and quickly scanned the area.
The lean-to no longer stood. It lay in a heap of rubble on the ground. Four horses stood across the clearing munching on grass. The rain had turned into a fine mist. There was no sign of Liam. Megan panicked.
“Liam,” she said hesitantly. Silence greeted her. “Liam!” she called louder this time. Still nothing. She ran to the pi
le of lumber and frantically moved boards. “Liam! Dear Lord, Liam, answer me!”
“What’s the matter?”
She whipped around and saw him standing whole and hale. “What… Where… You’re not…” She pointed at the pile of boards and then let her hand drop to her side, her jaw slack. “I thought…”
“You thought what?”
* * *
Liam’s answer came in a bundle of woman flinging herself into his arms. Hysterical sobs racked her body as she clung tightly to him. He slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back. Liam carried her into the hut once more. He sat on the chair she had occupied when he left to take care of the bodies of the two men. The chair creaked under their combined weight, but seemed like it would hold for the moment. He gently rubbed her back and whispered soothing words in a multitude of languages. Slowly the sobs subsided and her hold on him slackened. Now the only remnant of the episode was an occasional hiccupy sob.
“Meg,” he whispered in her ear. She didn’t stir. He continued to hold her close. Liam enjoyed the weight of her slender body in his arms. How he had missed this—the feel and scent of her. His body stirred to life for a few precious minutes. Shocked and delight coursed through him followed quickly by disappointment as his body fell dormant once more. Liam shook his head in disbelief then anger. He stood and crossed the room with his precious burden, then he gently lowered her to one of the two cots that took up the majority of the space in the shack. He brushed the stray strands of hair out of her closed eyes. He turned to leave.
“Where’re you going?”
He hesitated, not wanting to mention the task at hand.
“No more lies between us, Liam.”
“I’m dealing with the bodies.”
“Oh.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can.”
She nodded her response.
He hesitated before going outside. “Why were you so frantically searching through that heap of timber out there?”
“Because even if we are not together, I can’t live through your death again.”
Liam left the shack and the door slowly squeaked closed behind him. Her stark words wrapped around his heart and squeezed almost to the point that he couldn’t breathe. He felt as if she had punched him in the stomach. He trudged up the hill to deal with the unpleasant task at hand.
Hours later Liam made his way back to the shack. He noticed the saddles had been removed from the horses’ backs, and smoke curled from the little chimney. Liam knocked on the door before he walked inside. He halted when he saw Megan wrapped in an old, threadbare blanket. Her clothes were steaming in front of the fireplace. Her wedding ring was once more on her finger. Whatever hope he had harbored plunged to a quick death.
“Is there a spit in that fireplace?”
“Aye,” Megan pulled the blanket tighter around her.
“I have a rabbit for us to eat.”
“Thank goodness, I’m starving.” She watched him as he placed the rabbit on the spit. She enjoyed the view he presented, the way his buckskin breeches caressed his taut buttocks and muscular legs. “Your…” she cleared her throat and tried again, “your saddlebag’s over there.” She nodded towards the corner.
“Thank you.” He walked over and flipped one open. Liam retrieved a pristine, dry shirt and tossed it to her. “Put it on.”
“I’m fine,” she muttered.
“I’m not. My clothes are wet, I’m cold, and the only thing dry and big enough to cover me is what you currently have wrapped about you. Now, if you want me to walk around in nothing but this shirt, well…”
“No. I’ll wear it. Turn around,” she ordered.
“There was a time when you would’ve let me see what’s underneath that blanket.” She gave him a speaking glance. He turned around. A few moments later he felt the blanket land on the back of his head.
She walked over to the fireplace and turned the spit, needing something to do. “I also brought in their saddles and saddlebags. You can find your coins somewhere in there. They were doing well for themselves,” Megan said.
“That group of men will be happy to know they are rid of them.”
“Yes.”
“The rabbit smells good,” he commented, needing something to say.
Instead of replying that it had barely begun to cook, she remained quiet, fearful that her voice would give away her deeper feelings. The ones that she desperately wanted to keep hidden.
He peeled off his clothes and wrapped the blanket around his lean hips. Thank goodness there was not enough firelight for her to see all of his battle scars. Liam looked towards Megan and saw her quickly turn her head away from him. Was she repulsed by what she saw? Once again, he was glad the room was dim with only the small fire to ward off the chill and cook their supper.
Chapter 8
Megan faced the wall. She refused to look at Liam, and berated herself for having been caught watching him undress in the first place. She cursed herself even now as her mind replayed how the firelight had highlighted his muscular frame. He had always been fit, but the years he had been away had left him looking like a human form of a marble statue. Her fingers tingled with wanting. It didn’t help that every time she inhaled, Liam’s scent wafted up and tickled her nostrils.
Their meal of roasted rabbit had been silent and awkward. As soon as they were finished eating both retired for the night, so they would not be forced to strike up a conversation.
A flash of light shone through the crack of the shutters followed by the far off rumble of thunder. Megan shifted restlessly. Thunderstorms had always fascinated and excited her. Megan remembered how she used to sit in the window of her bedroom and watch the storm roll in over the Highland countryside. She would spend her time counting between each lightning bolt and clap of thunder in an attempt to gauge how far away the lightning was. Megan had longed to race her horse through the valley of her parents’ home in the Highlands during a thunderstorm. Her father would remind her of the dangers of racing amongst the lightning, and her mother would just laugh saying how much she reminded her of herself when she was young. Then her father would tell her mother how thankful he was they only had one daughter, and they would disappear for hours on end.
Megan stood, giving up on sleep, and crossed to the shutter. She pulled it open just enough so she could see outside. Lightning danced in the background and thunder rumbled deeply. Rain came down in torrents. Thankfully, it appeared whoever had built this little shack and the lean-to were not the same person, for there were no leaks from the downpour and the walls remained firm. She rested her chin in her palm watching the spectacle as the lighting moved closer. The old familiar longing to ride with abandon amongst the lightning strikes coursed through her once more.
As the thunder grew louder and more frequent, the man behind her grew more restless. She watched him momentarily until he seemed to settle then turned her attention back to nature’s majesty. So lost she was in the progression of the storm that the deep yells behind her caught her off guard.
“No! No more,” he moaned. “Stop! No, don’t.”
“Liam,” Megan crossed to him. His skin was flushed and a sheen of sweat covered him. The blanket rode low on his hips and she tugged it upwards.
“No,” he groaned.
“Liam.” She gently shook him. He seemed to be lost in the throes of whatever nightmare had him in its grasp. “Liam,” she said more sharply. The next bit happened so quickly, she wasn’t quite sure how it all came about. Megan lay pinned beneath Liam, his hands were wrapped tightly about her neck, squeezing tighter.
“No more!” he roared.
“Liam,” she croaked as she tried desperately to pry his fingers from around her neck. She attempted to take a breath, but couldn’t. Her lungs burned with the need to fill them with air. Dear Lord, she didn’t want to die and not this way. Not with so many things left unsaid. She also didn’t want
Liam to be filled with guilt. With the last bit of strength she had, she did the only thing she knew to do. She drew back both hands, cupping them, and slammed them against Liam’s ears. He loosened his hands enough that she managed to take several shallow gasps of air. Megan pushed hard against him, knocking him off her and the cot and onto the hard, dirt floor, sans blanket.
“What’s going on?” the giant of a man asked in confusion. “What am I doing down here?”
Megan stared up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths, and gently rubbing her neck. She barely felt the blanket being dragged across her bare legs. The great hulk that had pinned her to the cot and tried to strangle her now stood over her.
“Megan, what’s wrong?” Liam asked as he stooped closer to her. “What happened to your neck? You have bruises popping up around your…” The flush left his face, leaving him deathly pale. “Dear God. Meg I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”
“I know,” she said hoarsely. The thunderstorm climaxed around them. She watched him cross to his clothes. He jerked up his pants and stuffed first one leg then the other into them. “What’re you doing?” she rasped.
“Leaving.”
“You can’t.” She sat up.
“Why not?” He turned on her, his pants buttoned. He tossed the blanket at her. “Cover up,” he snapped.
Megan pulled the blanket over her. “You can’t go anywhere because there’s a thunderstorm raging outside!” she yelled to be heard over the loud thunderclap. “It’s probably what caused your nightmare, along with today’s events. I know I can’t sleep.” Liam took a deep breath and fell heavily onto the chair causing it to creak in protest. He rested his elbows on his knees and his forehead in the palm of his hands.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to come back.”
His mumbled words barely reached her ears, causing her to sit up straighter. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a smart woman,” he answered cryptically.
Megan stood and crossed to the fireplace. She took some wood from the collapsed lean-to she had gathered earlier and threw it on the glowing embers. In a few minutes, the fire roared back to life, lighting the interior of the small room and giving off warmth. “Well, pretend I’m not and explain yourself.”
Enticing the Weary Warrior Page 9