Camp took only minutes to ready, and Kieran wasted no time finding the lake. He pulled off his clothing and stepped toward the smooth, mirrored surface. The icy water lapped at his feet with languid temptation. He dove through the surface in one fluid movement, pain needling his body as the frigid water enveloped him. The loch was far colder than he had expected, but the shock was a welcome one. He pushed forward and swam until his body went numb. His mind began to clear as he moved toward the center with smooth, steady strokes.
He swam back toward the shore until his feet brushed the pebbled ground beneath him. The final rays of the day’s sun were enough to warm his clothes while he was in the water. His body was clean, his clothes were warm, and supper would be in his belly within minutes. Things were improving.
The feeling of satisfaction lasted a brief second before a branch cracked nearby. His senses flared.
Something was not right. Acting as though he had heard nothing, he discreetly slid the length of his dagger up his sleeve and pulled on his boots. He scanned the perimeter with his peripheral and saw nothing out of the ordinary, yet still unease tingled along the back of his neck.
No more sounds emerged as he walked through the forest, save the whisper of the leaves above. Though nothing further appeared out of the ordinary, he knew one thing for certain.
He was not alone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kieran surveyed the forest around him. The setting sun cast elongated shadows with its golden light, and a gentle breeze sent a wave of leaves skittering across the ground. Still nothing.
The tree above his head rustled. Before he could look up, a solid weight crashed down atop his shoulders. His body rolled forward on instinct, sending his attacker tumbling to the ground. Strength surged through him. He straightened and whipped the blade from his sleeve, ready to kill the person who dared assault him.
A heady rose perfume prickled his awareness before he saw the flash of violet eyes. Mariel. Her lips quirked in a half smile. She was obviously pleased with herself for having taken him by surprise.
They could drop from above. Lesson one learned.
He let the dagger fall from his grasp and lunged at her. She arched back into a flip and landed safely out of his grasp. Lightning fast, she dropped into a crouch and did a fluid sweep with her long leg that smacked against the back of his knees. While his feet remained on the ground, the impact upset his footing for a split second. She slammed her insignificant body weight against his chest. He caught his balance and stepped away, tensed for the second round of the attack.
He’d never trained with a woman and was not enjoying the experience thus far. When sparring with his men, he knew they could take full blows and deliver them back. But a woman, especially one as petite as Mariel, left him concerned with the possibility of hurting her.
In a halfhearted attempt to attack, he swung his fist in her direction. She caught his hand before he hit her temple and shoved him away with a look of disgust.
“Stop it,” she said dryly.
He studied her movements, waiting for her to engage in an offensive maneuver so he could safely tackle her to the ground and end their mock battle. “Stop what?”
“Stop treating me like a delicate courtier and fight me like a man.” Her leg swung at him.
Kieran palmed her firm calf and swept her standing leg from beneath her so that she fell into the soft soil. “Better?” he teased, his hand still fixed against the heat of her shapely leg.
Her eyes slanted up at him with the glint of a challenge. “Much.”
Even in battle, her sensuality was not something he could ignore. His hands ached to slide up her smooth thighs, to elicit a soft whimper of longing that would push him over the edge.
Mariel whipped her free leg around, knocking his arm off her, and snapped up with a graceful flip.
Kieran gritted his teeth. Focus.
They recovered quickly. Lesson two learned.
Her face was smooth with concentration, her gaze intense, focused. How was it she wasn’t even breathing hard yet? Kieran’s body remained taut in preparation for her strike. But she didn’t strike. She dropped unexpectedly and rolled between his legs.
Before he could see where she went, her arm wrapped around his neck from behind, and the warmth of her soft breasts pressed against his back. She tightened her grip and pushed his throat into the crook of her elbow. The wisp of a lass was trying to choke him into unconsciousness.
Kieran bent at the waist and pulled her arm over his back, rolling her to the ground once more. He waited for her to leap to her feet, and he caught her in an aggressive hug. Her arms were locked against her sides and her back pressed into his chest.
The curve of her bottom pushed against his throbbing erection. Fighting had always left him lusty, but nothing like this. He wanted to cover her with his body and explore the softness of her skin with his lips, his tongue.
A small foot flew toward his face and slammed into his forehead. The impact caught him off guard, and his hold eased for only a split second. That was all the time she needed to wriggle free once more.
They were flexible. Lesson three learned.
The tease of her lush backside squirming against his groin had been worth the pain of a kick to his face. Although now he understood why his men enjoyed training with Mariel as much as they did. The thought of them touching her the way he had made his stomach twist in jealous anger.
Her foot flew at him again and caught his jaw before he had time to dodge the blow.
Mariel’s brow furrowed. “Focus, Kieran.”
Taking the offensive once more, he flew forward and knocked her to the floor so that she was trapped beneath him. Her hand balled into a fist beneath his chest and something sharp dug below his ribs. What the hell was she doing?
The pressure turned uncomfortable and exploded in a pain that dazed him for one brief second. He vaguely felt the curves of her body grind against him, and then she was beneath him no more. Without the pressure of her hand, the sharp pain faded almost immediately.
They knew how to cause instant pain. But only for a moment. Lesson four learned.
However, she did not run. Instead, she crawled on top of him. The heat of her inner thighs cradled his hips and his cock strained to where she hovered over him, teasing him. Her warmth seeped against the plaid to where his desire pulsed.
Mariel braced her arms on either side of his head and leaned over him. Her hips arched back, and the temptation between her legs brushed the aching torture of his cock where it rose hard between them.
Her sweet breath whispered against his lips. “Captured.”
His hands slid over her firm bottom. The fabric beneath his fingers was thin. One quick tug and they would shred away…
But no, the battle was not over. He still had yet to win. He grabbed her slender waist, but she did not fight back. Not this time.
Her eyes were stormy, her cheeks flushed in a way that did not stem from exertion.
He knew that look well.
Kieran rolled her beneath him and locked her arms to the ground with his large hands. Her nipples tightened beneath her shirt. His gaze fixed on her face, and he shifted his hips forward, pressing his cock between her legs. A moan escaped her parted lips. She wanted this as badly as he.
His resolve crumbled. No matter how hard he tried to distance himself, she always seemed to draw him back.
Mariel rolled her body against his, digging the ache of his cock against the center of her heat. He could take no more of her torture. With a groan, his mouth crushed down on top of hers, his tongue possessive as it swept into her honeyed depths. Her lips were softer than he’d remembered.
His fingers brushed against the damp fabric between her legs. She cried out and her hips arched forward. Yes, she wanted this. Very much so.
He peeled the trews off her shapely legs with one satisfying yank and skimmed his palms over her creamy flesh. Fueled by a mindless hunger, he gripped the hem of her sh
irt and pulled it off over her head. She was fully naked beneath him, writhing with need, her hands burning a restless path over his body, her tongue tasting, teasing.
The soft moan in the back of her throat was all the encouragement he needed. He skimmed her naked sex with the pad of his thumb and slid a finger inside her tight heat. God, she was so damn wet.
Mariel arched against Kieran’s hand, squeezing her thighs around the delicious pressure of his fingers. Desperation wound tighter and tighter. She needed this release. No, she needed more than release. She needed the feel of his powerful arms around her and the unmistakable strength he lent her.
The dark hair of his legs prickled her skin when she slid her hand up his legs and wrapped her hand around the silky heat of his erection. With a tight groan, he spanned his hands across her inner thighs and firmly spread her legs. Everything within her pounded with anticipation.
His eyes focused on her, watching her. He positioned himself and shoved inside her with one hungry thrust. Shivers of bliss prickled her skin.
Having him within her once more, touching her, loving her…it was the first burning draw of air when she thought she would otherwise drown.
He ripped his shirt off and braced his arms on either side of her. The bands of his glorious stomach tightened with each thrust, his body taut from their mock battle.
Mariel wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, reveling in the glorious feel of him filling her, stretching her.
His mouth slanted over hers as he lifted her off the ground and cradled her against him. He explored her mouth with the greedy stroke of his tongue and gently nipped her bottom lip. She curled her hips to meet each thrust until her body tightened with the promise of a heaven she had yet to only sample.
Kieran must have felt the change and increased his tempo with a ragged groan. She wound to the brink of ecstasy and cried out. The world around them shattered into a thousand lights that heated and tingled as all the chaos of her lost control centered on the inky depths of his stare. His bottom clenched beneath her heels as he roared his release.
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity with their chests rising and falling as their frenzied breath calmed as one. His face was devoid of emotion, as expressionless and cold as it had been the previous two days, but his eyes were almost tender when he stared down at her. Mariel dared not speak for fear the delicate spell woven between them would snap.
Without warning, Kieran shoved off her and grabbed his leine from where it lay crumpled on the ground, his feelings apparent in the curl of contempt upon his lips.
Mariel grasped her shirt to her naked breasts with trembling fingers and choked down a sob.
What they’d just shared changed nothing.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The sun had not yet risen when Mariel’s eyes flew open. Her stomach churned with excitement. Jack would be free today.
She threw off the heavy blanket of her bedroll and got to her feet, heedless of the sharp chill hanging in the air. Sleep would be impossible at this point, and she could use the extra time to prepare. She crept silently over the sleeping warriors surrounding her. Their rest was well-earned and necessary.
The last few days had been taxing on them all and left weary lines on their faces. Never once did they complain.
A tremor of unease coiled in her belly. Would two days of training be enough? Would the MacDonalds be ready for Aaron’s mercenaries?
A shadow moved in the clearing as she approached. The waning light of the moon brilliant against the familiar bared back of a warrior with a proud stance. Kieran.
Mariel’s breath caught in her throat and her step faltered. She did not want to be there, not with him. Not when he had wounded her as deeply as he had.
He turned in her direction, and his black eyes fixed upon hers as if he could see into the damage of her soul. “Mariel.” His voice was low, husky still with the effects of sleep. He had not been awake long.
His body would be overwarm to the touch, the way it always was when he first woke. Her fingernails bit into her palms in a vain attempt to clear the thought from her mind.
“Kieran,” she said in greeting. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and heat flooded her cheeks. She was grateful for the cover of darkness.
She lowered herself to the damp ground and lay her chest against the length of her thigh, stretching the muscles necessary to ensure victory when the sun rose.
But no amount of focus or concentration could ease the pain burning within. Hearing his voice, seeing his naked back—all of it called to mind too many memories her heart could not stand to relive.
She did not blame him for what transpired between them. Not only had she not stopped him, she had wanted it as badly as he. While she was not fool enough to think he would forgive her transgressions afterward, she had not expected such blatant rejection.
The budding light of dawn cast an orange gold pallor on the silent forest and fell upon Kieran’s powerful frame, illuminating the glorious chiseled flesh as he moved through his exercises beside her.
Her stomach knotted. This was the last time they would be alone. Too much had been left unsaid. She would be remiss if she wasted this opportunity.
“Kieran,” she said softly.
He stilled, his sword extended in mock parry, his face trained away from her. “Aye?”
She wouldn’t receive his undivided attention. So be it. She would speak her piece and remove the weight from her heart. “I want to thank you for agreeing to help Jack. I know he will look up to you.”
He swung his blade and turned to the other side, focused on his efforts. “I dinna have much of a choice, did I?”
Mariel winced at the barb. “Neither of us had much of a choice in all this,” she said. “I have not yet had a chance to apologize to you.”
There was a pause before he extended the claymore in front of him with measured precision. His nonchalance would not dissuade her.
“The most horrible and selfish part is that I cannot completely regret my role in this heinous plot…because it led me to you.” Her throat drew tight and she had to pause to regain her composure before continuing. “You are the only right thing that’s happened to me since my parents died.”
The blade of his sword caught the rising sun and reflected subdued rays in his shift back to the previous position. Every muscle in his body was visibly taut.
Mariel continued on before her courage expired. “I’m sorry for not confiding in you sooner.”
Kieran stopped and drove his blade deep into the soft soil so the hilt thrust out from the earth like a cross. He bent down on one knee and bowed his head low as if in prayer. His prone shadow was outlined by the golden red glow of the sunrise. Still he did not speak.
“Kieran,” Mariel said, her voice filled the tortured silence between them, then broke off in a husky whimper. “I love you. No matter what has happened between us or what can never be, I love you.”
• • •
Kieran’s fist tightened at his side and popped open the newly closed wounds across his knuckles. Her words of love resonated with conviction. He wanted so badly to believe her, and yet he could not still the doubt weighing heavily in his heart.
Why now? Why was she confessing this to him before battle? Perhaps it was another form of manipulation. Didn’t she know he would help regardless?
He looked up and found she had left. The realization was met with a mixture of relief and disappointment.
Beyond where she had been, his warriors broke through the trees and stalked toward him with stoic determination. The sharp rays of the early dawn shone upon them, lighting their weapons with an ethereal glow. The boisterous group was now silent with focused concentration, and the cool morning air crackled with anticipation.
Kieran’s blade would taste vengeance this day.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kieran crouched low in the thick brush with his men. The chill of morning had not yet ebbed and cr
ept up his bare legs to where his plaid rested against his thighs.
A great lawn stretched before them. The blades of grass were furry white with frost where the rising sun had not yet graced them. Manicured plants and trees like those he had seen at Hampton Court Palace lined a cobblestoned lane. The manor itself rose three stories high, pink with precious sandstone. Extravagant carvings of animals dotted the walls and lined the great arching entrance. Balconies rimmed the second and third floors.
The guards wore no uniform or livery as they stalked the perimeter with the disinterest of men who fought for gold. Mercenaries. Kieran knew all too well how they operated. He scanned the manor for Mariel’s familiar form.
She had volunteered to quietly dispatch the guards so Kieran’s men could enter the manor unseen to surprise the English bastards. Already the guards who once walked the lawn lay still in the shadows.
He glanced up to the balcony again, anxious lest the men there notice the absence of the mercenaries below.
Ordinary men would have gotten restless in their wait, but Kieran’s men were warriors and remained as still as the animals adorning the manor.
Their patience was well rewarded when a dark shadow slipped over the wall of the third floor and slinked behind the lanky guard who stood unsuspecting with his back to her.
A dark arm wrapped around his neck, and he disappeared into one of the many alcoves without a sound. Moving with the stealth and grace of a cat, Mariel crept down the prone form of a sandstone lion to where the final remaining man paced the second floor.
Once he turned his back to her, she stretched her body toward the underside of the third-floor balcony and vanished into darkness. As the guard did his second pass of the balcony, Mariel dangled her upper torso from the ceiling and caught him by the neck as she had the other man. She released his limp form with slow precision, and he slid to the ground. With a graceful somersault, she landed beside him, and he too disappeared into an alcove.
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