Highland Magic

by Donna Grant

  "You don't like your adventure?"

  She shook her head. “Nay. Not the adventure, the wild animals, or the madman after me."

  A sigh escaped her lips when Frang's arms came around her to give her a gentle squeeze. Suddenly, she realised how close he was to her. Body to body they lay on the ground. Her arms were still locked around him, and his eyes bore into hers. The memory of their kiss sent heat flooding her body.

  Her breath locked in her throat when Frang's gaze moved to her mouth. Unwittingly, her lips parted while she waited for another kiss.

  She wanted that kiss desperately.

  "You'll be much happier where you're going,” he whispered huskily.

  She tried to swallow as his head bent towards her, but all the moisture in her body was now between her legs. Her near death was long forgotten as she savoured the feel of Frang's body alongside hers.

  Just when she thought he would finally kiss her, he turned away and rose.

  Kenna glanced at the dead boar near her and realised just how close Frang had come to getting skewered. “Thank you,” she said after he helped her rise. Her body was shaking but not from her fear of the boar. It was because of Frang and what he did to her.

  One side of his lips pulled up in a smile. “My pleasure, lass."

  How he could be so nonchalant after almost dying was beyond her, but as long as he was with her, she felt safe.

  "Go sit by the fire. I'll skin the boar and gather more wood."

  Kenna shook her head. “I'll get the wood.” With the desire fading, her mouth began to water as she thought of eating the roasted boar. She licked her lips and heard Frang chuckle.

  She hadn't realised just how hungry she was until that moment. The travel and constant worry over the Wallace finding her had made the day long and weary. Exhaustion was pushed aside with the temptation of a hot meal and a fire to ward off the chill that had encased her soul.

  Frang was a good man, a man who had risked his own life several times for her. But was that enough for her to share her secrets, her heavy burdens with him?

  Nay, she thought as she turned away to start collecting wood. She would deal with her problems herself, for if she involved Frang, it would only cost him his life. And that she couldn't live with.

  By the time she returned to their camp, Frang had cut off a portion of the boar and skinned it. It now roasted over the fire, its juices falling into the flames, making a loud hissing noise.

  "I was getting worried,” Frang said without looking at her.

  She pressed her lips together, thinking quickly. “I was being more careful than before."

  He knelt before the boar and rotated it on its spike to cook the other side. “I think you need to move the dagger I gave you to your hip so that it'll be easier for you to grab should you need it."

  "Until the Wallace leaves me alone, I'll always need it.” She squatted down and began to stack the wood within easy reach of both of them. When she sat back, Frang was regarding her silently.

  "Are you ever going to tell me why the Wallace is after you?"

  Kenna shook her head. “I like you."

  "If you liked me, you'd trust me."

  "Like and trust are two different things.” She moved a fallen log closer to the fire so she'd have something to sit on and then dusted off her hands. “If I didn't like you, I'd have already told you enough to get you killed."

  Frang whistled softly. “It appears as though you are in over your pretty wee head."

  "Aye, I think I am."

  He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against a tree and stretched his legs out in front of him. “What makes you think telling me would kill me?"

  Kenna laughed. “There is nothing you could say, no trick you could use that would make me tell you anything."

  "You seem rather sure of yourself."

  She shrugged. “I have to be if I'm going to keep you alive."

  "What about you?"

  "What about me?"

  "Aren't you worried about your life?"

  Kenna paused as she thought over his words. She met his gaze over the fire. “Nay. My life was forfeit the moment I made my decision."

  Frang's head cocked to the side. “You mean when you left your clan?"

  She couldn't tell him it was when she began to suspect what the Wallace was doing with the herbs she collected. Frang was too intelligent and would figure out everything.

  Instead, she simply lowered her gaze and let him believe what he would. He'd be safer that way.

  When he next spoke, his voice was soft and low, barely heard over the crackling fire. “You forget, Kenna. I know where you are headed. I know what safety the Druids hold for you. Whatever you've done, they might be able to protect you for a short while, but if the Wallace truly wants you, he'll have you."

  "It isn't for myself that I seek the Druids."

  She could tell her words shocked him by his furrowed brow. He let his arms fall to his sides as he sat up and stared at her. “Kenna, you cannot think to turn yourself over to the Wallace willingly."

  Her fingers fidgeted with her skirts, a habit she did when she was nervous. “Nay,” she lied.

  For a moment, she worried he wouldn't believe her. Then, he returned to his relaxed pose against the tree. “I knew you were smarter than that."

  It was just like a Highlander to think his way was always the best. It was on the tip of Kenna's tongue to tell him her true plan, but she held back. There was something about Frang that told her he was much more than he led her to believe. Just what he was, she wasn't sure.

  She waited until he was turning the boar again before she said, “I've been curious as to how you know so much about herbs."

  His hands stilled and his sky blue eyes rose to her face. Before the bored look he presented to the world fell over his face, she saw the hesitation and doubt in his gaze.

  "Do you think only healers know of herbs?” he asked. His voice held a note of indifference, but she knew otherwise.

  "'Tis true that others know of some herbs, the common herbs. Few people know of mixing herbs or what rare herbs look like."

  He cut off a piece of the boar and examined it before he bit into it. “It's ready.” He waited until she neared him before he said, “I will answer your question truthfully. If you answer one of mine."

  Kenna hesitated. She couldn't answer just any question.

  "'Tis a simple one,” Frang went on as if he didn't know the quandary his comment had caused her. “My question is this. I would like for you to tell me if Brigit was a Druid."

  Kenna felt the air rush from her lungs. “Why?"

  He shrugged. “Is that the question you want me to answer?"

  "Nay,” she hurried to say. She stared at him for several long moments before she nodded. “Brigit was a Druid, or at least, she practised their ways."

  Frang cut off a piece of the boar for her, then handed it to her. He waited until she was seated back on her log before he responded to her. “Thank you for telling me. As for your answer, I know of herbs and their uses because I was taught by the Druids."

  He watched as surprise widened her eyes, and then the surprise turn into delight. “Truly? So that is why you know where they live? How you know they are still around?"

  Frang smiled at her questions. Her glee was entertaining to behold. “Aye to all your questions."

  "Tell me about them,” she asked, her desire for information shining in her amber eyes.

  Frang sunk his teeth into the boar, chewed and swallowed before he spoke. “They are very knowledgeable and powerful. Where I am taking you is the largest holding of Druids in all of Scotland. Few know of their location."

  "I'll never tell,” she vowed and absently bit into the meat.

  "Nay, I don't think you will. Willingly."

  That got her attention. She bristled as her beautiful eyes lost their lustre and stared him down as if he were some nasty insect come to sample her food. “Nothing could make me t
ell."

  "The Wallace could.” He watched as the realisation hit her. “He is a man isn't used to losing what he wants. From what you've told me, he wants those herbs. He might be able to find someone else to collect them for him, but I think it goes deeper than that. I think he wants you."

  Her eyes lowered to the ground. “He does want me. The last night at the castle, he all but proposed. I never knew he thought of me that way."

  Jealousy flared to life in Frang. He couldn't imagine Kenna with the Wallace, but Wallace was a good looking man ... and a laird. It was enough to turn many a young lasses heads.

  "You could have had great power had you stayed with him.” It galled Frang to even say the words. He knew he would have to let Kenna go eventually, but while she was with him, he wanted to be the centre of her thoughts, as selfish as that was of him. She shook her head, tendrils from her glorious red head falling about her face. “Never.” Her gaze rose to Frang's. “He is ... after something that is not his by right."

  "You?"

  "Nay. Something else, something that needs to be kept safe."

  Frang sat forward, his food forgotten. A thrill shot through him that Kenna didn't want the laird. “Ah. You mean the book you carry in your bag?"

  Chapter Sixteen

  All the colour drained from Kenna's face. “How ... When?"

  "When you fell. I knew you wouldn't leave without having some herbs. I had to remove the book to get to the herbs."

  She visibly swallowed then licked her lips. “I see."

  Frang decided to find out how much she would tell him. “I gather the book is of great importance to the Wallace?"

  "Did you look at it?"

  "Nay. I was too concerned about your wounds to worry over a book."

  She relaxed and took another bite of food. She licked the juice from her lips and said, “I heard of the book from Brigit. She spoke of it as legend though, not truth. When I saw it, I knew the Wallace had to have come by it with evil in mind."

  "What is the book?"

  She opened her mouth then realised what she had been about to do and promptly shut it. “Nay, Frang. I cannot tell you."

  "Cannot? Or will not?"

  "Both,” she said sadly and turned her attention to her meal.

  "I could make you tell me."

  Her gaze snapped to his. “I suppose by that you mean you won't take me to the Druids?"

  Frang hated to do this, but she needed to know what she was up against. “Aye."

  Amber eyes shot fire at him. “You would do that? I thought you were an honourable man."

  "You trust me enough to be honourable and take you to the Druids, but you don't trust me enough to tell me of the book or why you left your clan? You know nothing about me, Kenna. For all you know, I could have been hired by the Wallace himself."

  She tossed the remnants of her food into the fire. “You could have, but you aren't. You aren't the type of man the Wallace would seek."

  "Och, lass. You aren't understanding what I'm saying."

  "I understand just fine, Frang. I'm not worldly, and I'm naïve at times, but I can sense when there is evil in someone. There is no evil in you."

  With a sigh he rose to his feet. “I could have raped you by now."

  "Could have but didn't. You also could have done it that first night you stayed at my cottage or the nights after. But you didn't."

  He shook his head. “You're too trusting. I never told you where we were going. I could take you far away from the Druids, and you'd never know it."

  She rose and walked to him until she stood inches from him. “Will you take me to the Druids?"

  He searched her amber eyes. She tried to appear calm, but deep inside he could sense her turmoil, her fear. “I'll take you to the Druids, lass."

  "Will you keep me safe from the Wallace?"

  "Aye.” He knew what she was about now.

  "Will you promise not to ask me questions about the book?"

  Frang sighed loudly. “Aye."

  A slow smile pulled at her lips. “I knew you were a good man."

  Having her this close, seeing her full lips reminded him of their kiss, and his body exploded with desire. He fisted his hands at his side to keep from pulling her against him and tasting her again, but it took everything he had to control the nearly overwhelming desire to bury himself deep inside her and feel her sex clench around him as he brought her to orgasm.

  He silently begged her to turn and go back to her place on the other side of the fire. Yet, she didn't move. Her smile dropped as her eyes roamed slowly over his face.

  "Who are you?"

  "Just a man."

  Her hand rose up and gently cupped his cheek. “Nay, I think not. There is more to you than you are telling me, but I can hardly fault you for keeping your secrets when I keep my own."

  "I don't want to know your secrets right now."

  "Oh? Then what do you want?"

  She shouldn't have asked, and he shouldn't have goaded her into it. But Frang couldn't help himself when he was around her.

  "This,” he said as he pulled her against him and slanted his mouth over hers. With one hand he supported the back of her head, the other he moved to the small of her back.

  He nipped at her lips, begging her to open for him the same time he prayed she'd push him away. She was intoxicating, seductive and oh, so alluring.

  Instead of pushing him away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. Frang moaned and pulled her tighter against him. Her lips parted, and he stroked her tongue with his.

  He could get drunk off her lips. Already his head swam with images of him baring her breasts so he could feast on them. Desire engulfed him, need consumed him.

  Kenna floated on a cloud of contentment. Each touch of Frang's tongue sent her spiralling into an abyss of pleasure, each breath she took brought her more desire, more heat. Her breasts tingled, her stomach clenched in anticipation and a strange, intense pressure began between her legs.

  His dark locks were thick and soft between her fingers. His arms were like iron as they locked around her, holding her to him, making her feel every hard inch of him all the way down her body.

  His hands moved over her back, her hips, her waist ... and her breasts. She sucked in a breath and arched into his hand as Frang cupped her breast.

  When his finger grazed her nipple, a startled cry wrenched from her lips as she broke their kiss. Her body shook with passion and the fierce desire Frang called from within her.

  She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her. His normally bright eyes had darkened, the desire there for anyone to see. He was holding nothing back from her.

  A sane woman would step away and break the hold he had on her. But when it came to Frang, Kenna was anything but sane. The man had the uncanny ability to know her deepest thoughts, touching her soul as no one ever had.

  Her eyes closed on a moan as his finger teased her sensitive nipple.

  "You like that."

  She smiled at his statement. “You know I do. Your hands are like magic."

  "There's no magic here, Kenna,” he said as he nuzzled her exposed neck. “I am only a man who sees something he wants."

  Her stomach somersaulted at his words. She ran her hands over his wide shoulders and muscular arms while she drifted in the sea of pleasure.

  To her disappointment, she felt him pulling away. Slowly, but surely he stepped away from her until only their hands touched.

  "Forgive me,” he said. “I should be able to control my own passion."

  Kenna's heart thudded. She hadn't wanted him to stop. Had he laid her down on the ground, she would have succumbed to him. Gladly.

  She released his hand and took a step away from him. With difficulty, she swallowed and turned her back on him. Her legs barely supported her as she leisurely made her way back to the log. It was going to be near impossible for her to sleep with her body raging as it was.

  Though she wanted to curse
Frang, she couldn't, not after he had awoken her desires as he had.

  * * * *

  Frang awoke before dawn, his thoughts jumbled and his mood dark. He rose to stretch and found himself walking toward Kenna. He knelt beside her and watched her sleep. She looked so beautiful and peaceful that he found it difficult to breathe. He recalled her lithe form in his arms and how she had responded to his slightest touch.

  He could have taken her last night, but he would have taken advantage of her and he couldn't do that. He might not know how guilty she was in helping the Wallace, but she still deserved more than a wild rutting on the ground.

  Because that was exactly what it would have been. Frang had nearly lost his control over his desires. He had hung on by an unravelling thread, and he'd had to use magic to pull away from her.

  Even now, staring at her, he had the urge to lean down and kiss her awake, to stretch out beside her and pull her against him.

  "By all that's magical, let me get her to the Glen quickly,” he whispered.

  Kenna stirred then stilled. He rose once more and focused his Druid powers within him. Then, when the magic was pulsing inside him, he spread his arms wide to determine how close the Wallace and his men were.

  Frang's eyes flew open as his arms dropped. Shite! They were close, too close. He pivoted and rushed to Kenna. “Kenna. Wake up. We must get moving."

  Her eyes opened to look at him. She blinked then sat up groggily. “What is it?"

  "The Wallace is closer than I thought. We need to get moving. If we ride hard, we might make it to MacInnes land by nightfall."

  She jumped up, all sleepiness gone as she readied herself and her bag while Frang saddled the horses. Once both horses were prepared, he helped her mount, and with one last look over his shoulder, he nudged the grey into a gallop.

  Fear urged him faster, but he held back, not wanting to tire the horses when they had so many leagues to cover in one day.

  "Frang."

  He looked over his shoulder and slowed the stallion so Kenna could catch up with him. “Aye?"

  "How close is the Wallace?"

  He sighed. “Closer than I would like. Much closer than I'd hoped."

  "Did you see him?"

  In a manner of speaking. He turned his head straight and nodded, praying she wouldn't ask more questions.