***
“Bull, please slow down. This blade makes me feel like I be dragging a side of beef.” Her shoulder burned beneath the weight of the sword. Bull stopped, and glared at her.
“Give me that,” he said, growling something beneath his breath, “and keep an eye out for Balfour. If those bastards we fought come back, we fight, or we die.”
“Where is the dirk I saw ye brandishing earlier, before the fray?”
He glared at her again, as he wiped grass and flower petals from the blade, with his plaid. “The fray? That was a battle to the death. I was doing fine, until Gavin needed help. This big brute lunged at him from behind, so I…lost my weapon…in the warrior’s back.”
She had no possible comeback.
When he continued along the river, with both huge swords raised and ready, she followed in silence. He led her away from the camp, so her thoughts strayed toward her friends. Was Jenny safe? Had Gavin been hurt or killed? She never wanted his death, only freedom from his unwanted advances.
“Do ye know where ye be heading?”
Bull stopped again, but did not turn to face her. He had swung one blade up, and rested the flat of the sword on his left shoulder. With his feet splayed in a natural warrior’s stance, she almost forgot he was not a man of her world.
“Live for today, and let tomorrow worry about itself.”
Izzy spun in a circle. The voice belonged to Dorcas Swann, but she was not behind her. “Dorcas?”
“Izzy, keep quiet,” Bull said. He shoved her into a crouch, and joined her nearly nose-to-nose.
“Och!” Her shoulder throbbed. A long, hot bath beside a fire sounded perfect, but the only water within shouting distance was an icy waterfall and a surging river. His scent was intoxicating, and the sudden yearning to kiss him nearly had her leaning in. Her lips parted, but when a large hand covered her mouth, she fought the urge to bite.
“We need to keep quiet and find a hideout, until we can regroup with the others,” he whispered.
“Did Gavin tell ye to do this?”
“Yes, but he never got a chance to say where. That thing…with the knife happened, and I ran off in search of you.”
He lowered his hand, resting it on her sore shoulder. His breath warmed her neck and tickled her ear. She wanted him to lean in and sooth her bare skin with kisses.
“Aye, we need to distance ourselves from the camp, and seek a safe haven. Where would Gavin want to meet?”
“According to the attacker’s plaids, they were Sinclairs. Were they Gavin’s kin? Both he and Niall had battled the newcomers.”
Izzy shook her head. “The Sinclair boasted about his paid mercenaries, and said they would not harm his sons. In fact, he expected them to capture Gavin, and return him to the castle.”
“If Gavin is still safe, where would he think to hide from both the attackers, and his father?” Bull asked.
An idea sprang to her mind, and she jumped to her feet. “My farm!”
Bull glared at her. “Shhh. Why can’t you keep that beautiful mouth shut?”
Before she could answer, he cupped her chin and pressed his mouth to hers. Tingles flowed from his lips, spreading to all her extremities. She was warm, then chilled, then dizzy. He tasted heavenly, and when he brushed his lips gently back and forth, her toes curled.
Moonbeams spread over them, and she craved the freedom to lie on her back and let him have his way with her, again. Memories of their stolen minutes, beside the waterfall, threatened to unhinge her. They were running for their lives. Making love would have to wait.
Stars above! I doona’ wish to wait.
Pushing him away was the hardest thing she had ever done, since leaving her cousin in charge of her farm. Jaden-Tog said he was missing, but the land was still hers. Would the Sinclair warriors follow them onto clan Gunn territory?
“Follow me, Highlander. Gavin wanted my land, so I expect he shall meet us there. Too bad yer leading us the wrong way.”
“Just hold on a minute, Izzy. What about those attackers? What about that old man on the ground who nearly raped you? What the heck is going on?”
“That bastard ‘twas Gavin’s father, The Sinclair laird. He knows Gavin covets my land, but I doubt he would think Gavin would meet us there. I wish Balfour had no’ galloped away.”
“Even so, after what you described, I assume he’s not fit to ride. Not for awhile anyway. Is your farm far?”
“ ‘Tis a shame ye scared away the laird’s mount,” she said, “as we have quite a walk. Follow me, if ye please.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll follow you anywhere.”
Oh, how I wish that be true.
“Bull, we must cross the river above the waterfall, in a shallow area.” When they arrived at the chosen spot, Bull removed his plaid and settled it over his back and shoulders. Besides keeping it dry, it would cushion her, as she rode his back.
Doing her best to ignore the moonlight on his naked buttocks, Izzy nestled one sword horizontally over his shoulders, separating the blade from the back of his neck with a bit of his plaid. Bull used the other like a crutch. Wading through running water, in the dark, was difficult, without losing his balance. She looped her arms around him, and held on.
Izzy prayed her weight did not hurt his scars.
“I am fine,” he had admitted before she mounted his back. When they reached the opposite shore, she slid to her feet, fixed her skirt, and removed the sword. He dressed quickly, and they wound their way deep into the forest, then turned downriver.
Resting to catch their breaths, her stomach growled. Bull chuckled.
“Doona’ laugh, Highlander. I have no’ eaten all day.”
“I’m hungry, too. Just as well. I nearly vomited when I saw all those bodies…”
“I forgot ye were fighting while I was…busy with the laird. I thank ye again for coming to my aid.” They sat, with their backs against a huge oak tree. She leaned against his shoulder, and her eyes fluttered closed. Too weary to keep them open, her body relaxed into a restful sleep.
Gentle kisses, and the soft caress of a large hand on her breast, brought her back among the living. She swatted both away.
“How long?”
Bull chuckled softly. “You were out like a light for only twenty minutes. Feel better?”
“Aye. We must continue.”
“We have a minute to enjoy a kiss or two.”
Izzy rubbed her eyes. She yearned to sink her teeth into the fleshy bottom lip that had invaded her dreams, moments earlier. Inhaling his musky scent, along with dried leaves and moss, she sought his mouth.
Pulling her away from the tree, he settled her on the dried leaves carpeting the forest floor. His tongue slipped between her lips, and explored the depths and crevices, enticing her to return the favor. While they kissed, his hands were everywhere. When they reached beneath her skirt, and his fingers probed her secret juncture, she purred.
“I like the sounds you make. Do you like this?”
“Aye. Ye make me happy.”
“You are so tight. I want to be inside you. Now.”
She nodded.
He drew her up, until she straddled him. Pressing his back against a tree, his eyes held her in their icy blue gaze. With her knees on the moss-covered forest floor, beside his hips, his tented plaid nudged the hollow between her thighs. Lost in shadow, the eerie night sounds made her pause.
“Up on your knees.”
***
Bull smiled at the way Izzy cocked her head, yet did what he asked. He was hard as granite, and wanted nothing more than to fill her, pumping into her, until they both cried out with pleasure. While he listened for sounds of intruders, he hoped she was wet. He couldn’t wait.
Pulling up his plaid, his erection bobbed, then pointed heavenward. With Izzy kneeling above him, the aching flesh had the right idea. When she gathered her skirt up to her waist, he groaned.
“Lower yourself.”
She giggled. “Truly? ‘Tis norm
al?”
“There is nothing normal when it comes to love. Do what feels good, sweetheart.”
“So….” The word fluttered from her mouth on a sigh, as her soft damp flesh opened, and his entire length slid inside. “…this is love?”
He pushed aside the words she wanted to hear. His body was no longer listening. “That’s it. Now rise up on your knees, again.”
She did, and a tremor seized his erection. Her inner muscles gripped every inch of him, as she glided up, then plummeted downward, until her thighs rested on his hips. “Aye, Bull, ‘tis so verra’ good. So deep, so hard.”
Releasing his grip on his plaid, Bull rested his hands on her waist. She was so small, so delicate, but his body had taken over from his brain. He helped her rise and fall in a rhythm as old as humanity.
Intense pleasure filled her face, made pale by the light of the moon. She’d closed her eyes, and her cheeks had turned a rosy pink. When she threw her head back and screamed, her blonde curls brushed his balls.
The guttural cry of his climax shocked him.
After an orgasm as hot as lightning preceding a storm, he sucked in several breaths. Izzy collapsed in his arms, and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Is it always like this?” she whispered.
“Only with you, love. Only you.” He breathed her in, and his heart cracked with a burst of desire, to take her again and again, until their bodies collapsed to dust. His fingers brushed the ragged tears along the back of her shirt. Cupping the bruised cheek, a growl rumbled from his gut. Knowing she had been abused, and nearly raped, was the last straw.
“I’ll kill him.”
A twig snapped.
Izzy bolted to her feet, then swayed. Bull jumped up, straightened their clothing, and grabbed one of the swords. The choice between fight or flight was a no-brainer. Izzy needed protecting. With the sword at the ready, in his right hand, he grabbed Izzy’s wrist and ran.
“What about the other…”
“Leave it.” As he steered them through the forest, along another deer trail, she followed behind him over stumps and branches, as silently as a doe. Since he was twice her size, he had trouble moving without giving away their location, but if the people following were on horseback, they wouldn’t hear his footsteps, but they’d catch them quickly.
“How much farther?” he asked her.
“Turn right on the next path you find, then we must cross a wide meadow.”
“A meadow? Any cover in case they’re on our heels?”
“Nay.”
“Great. I guess even Balfour wouldn’t help at this point.” Gazing at the sky high above the trees, he mentally calculated how soon dawn would arrive. “Will we reach the meadow before daybreak?”
Izzy glanced at the eastern sky through the copse of trees. “ ‘Tis possible. Crossing open ground hidden in shadow might extend our lives.”
She talked so matter-of-factly about life and death. How could he forget she was a woman of this time and place? The ancient Highlanders survived harsh climate and deadly battles. He wanted out of here, as soon as possible, but not until he made sure Izzy, Jenny, and even Gavin survived.
When he spied a small opening in the trees to his right, he glanced back at her. She nodded, and they continued their silent journey toward the safety of Gunn land. Wanting to stop and listen, he waited, until they stumbled over a blowdown area. A dozen or so large pine trees lay like matchsticks where a strong gust had uprooted them. The branches of several, lying propped on others, had turned a deathly shade of gray-brown.
More twigs snapped, and voices carried.
“In here,” he whispered, tugging her around to the far side of the mess. He climbed over a few trunks, helped her over the largest of the prickly branches, then settled her in a hole. A huge root ball dangled overhead.
“ ‘Tis safe?” She stared up at the roots, then at him. The trust in her eyes fueled him to console her fear.
“It’s safe. We’ll wait here and pray we aren’t followed.”
“Unfortunately, I fear ‘tis a prayer unfulfilled.”
“If they come closer, hiding gives us the best chance. They can’t ride horses through this mess.” He walked away, searching for cover, and his sword made short work of the dried branches. After a few trips, he had covered Izzy’s hiding spot. He wanted to slip under and join her, but he had to keep alert in case they were followed.
“Bull?”
He couldn’t ignore her whispered plea, as he knelt beside the cocoon of pine boughs. Her fragrance wafted up, soothing muscles he hadn’t realized had tensed. Fear affects a person in many ways, but he had pushed it aside in order to care for Izzy. She would stay safe if she kept quiet.
“Shhh, love. I will keep watch.”
“Nay! Join me here.”
“I saw a young oak tree about twenty yards back the way we came. Take the sword,” he said, slipping it hilt-first into her hiding spot, “because I plan to climb up it, to keep watch. Be quiet, and they won’t find you, okay?”
Her sigh was his only reassurance she’d do what he asked. Izzy was courageous and proud. He’d learned that about her, from the first time they’d met. Someone had tried to burn down her tent. After surviving a car crash, and being kidnapped, a powerful laird had attempted to rape her. Twice.
Through it all, she still opened her heart, and her body, to him. He took comfort knowing that her strength, and courage, would keep her alive.
At the tree he’d spotted earlier, he jumped up, gripping the lowest branch, and scrambled even higher. Most of the leaves had fallen, so he climbed sideways, until he settled on a branch that would give him the best view of the trail without putting him in full view of their foes.
“And now, I wait.”
He hated waiting. Whether in line at a crowded supermarket, or the local coffee shop, he equated waiting with time wasted.
Time. It means nothing, now.
Voices, growing louder amid breaking branches and snorting horses, carried to his hiding spot. Shutting his eyes, and praying Izzy kept quiet, he opened them and listened. Leaning slightly to his left, he focused on the sound. Movement caught his attention.
Several mounted warriors followed the same trail they had taken, since leaving the river. Through the branches and scattering of leaves yet to fall, he watched. When the first man reached the blowdown area, he stopped. A large tree blocked Bull’s view. Straining to glimpse more of the warrior’s face, he leaned farther out.
The branch beneath his left foot snapped, and he tumbled to the forest floor with a bone-crunching thud.
CHAPTER 17
“What have we here?” The question was spoken by a familiar voice, that belonged to a man who sat high above him on a warhorse. Niall Sinclair stared down at Bull.
Bull gasped for breath. With the wind knocked out of him, and a gnarled root poking into his back, he couldn’t move. Praying that Izzy stayed hidden, he blinked. Niall passed his longbow to another warrior, and dismounted. After mumbling something to the other mounted warriors, he walked closer.
“Bull? Yer alive, more or less. Good. Now, to yer feet. I have a few questions.” Niall said.
When Bull finally took in enough air, he pushed to a sitting position. His back ached, but the root was no longer the problem. Niall was. His father’s men had attacked his camp. Had Niall known they would come for Izzy? Was he helping them search?
“I was taking a walk and got lost.” Bull struggled to his feet, and leaned against the oak he’d tumbled from. His greeting to the warrior sounded flip, but he wouldn’t show fear, or do the accepted thing. Not until he discovered if Niall was on their side.
“Where is Gavin?”
Niall didn’t know where his brother was? Was this a good thing, or had Gavin been captured?
The truth couldn’t hurt. “We got separated when the fighting started. He was protecting his…someone, and I went off in search of my friend.”
“Isobel? Did ye find her?”
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“What’s it to you?” That’s right, idiot, tease the beast.
Niall smiled. “I presume Gavin is with her. Find her, I find my brother.”
Bull stared at his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. A sense of calm spread from his recently awakened heart, to his toes. Clearing his mind, he imagined his future. Would he ever get home? Or, would he die in this place, before he’d ever been born. Could he trust the huge Highlander who said something he’d missed?
“Pardon? I didn’t catch that last question.”
“Where are you heading?”
“North, I think.”
Niall laughed. “Ye think? Aye, yer a funny man. However, I am no’ in the mood to laugh. I want my brother.”
“I don’t have him.”
The Highlander’s glare was hard to ignore, but Bull didn’t cower. He leaned against the tree, as if he had all the time in the world.
Niall’s fist slammed into his gut, and drove out what little breath Bull had inhaled, during their conversation. He flailed his arms, as he regained his balance.
“What the…?” Attempting to take in more air, anger rose like bile, but he tamped it down. Izzy’s safety was tied to getting rid of Niall and his companions.
Jerking the guy’s chain isn’t the way.
“Why did you hit me?” Bull wheezed. “I don’t know where Gavin ran off to. Why should I care? He’s after the same woman I am.”
“One of my men saw ye save Gavin from an attacker. I am worried.”
“Worry about those men who attacked us. Gavin recognized them. Bye the way, have you seen your dad lately?” An image of the Sinclair laird, unconscious by the river, popped into his head.
“Nay. He sent men against us, for reasons unclear. I want Gavin under my protection, until I find out more.”
Could he believe him? The attack was too real to be an act. He’d seen men cut down, and smelled the blood. He’d even killed one of them, saving Gavin. He’d give Niall a chance to prove he wasn’t a threat. As long as Izzy stayed hidden…
The fist landed on his left cheek, slamming his head against the tree. He saw stars, and his stomach lurched. As the dizzy spell worsened and his knees buckled, he wanted nothing more than to vomit on Niall’s boots. A rustling of branches, and a flurry of Gaelic curses in a woman’s voice brought his head up.
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