The Highlander's Forbidden Bride

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The Highlander's Forbidden Bride Page 14

by Donna Fletcher


  Never had anyone ever boasted about anything Carissa had done, and that he took such pride in her skill touched her heart. But hadn’t Ula told her that preparing a good meal could bring peace to the heart?

  And right now, at this very moment, she felt at peace. Although she knew this was a rare moment, and more than likely she would never experience something like this again, she would enjoy it and cherish it and keep it strong in her memory.

  “Tell me of your brothers,” she said.

  While she cut the potatoes, Ronan regaled her with stories of when he was young, and they both laughed at the antics of his youth. And the pleasant day continued when Bethane joined them hours later.

  It turned into a pleasant evening among friends, and Carissa was grateful for it. She had always known that life was far different than she had lived it, though her father tried to convince her otherwise.

  Bethane left sooner than Carissa would have liked, but the older woman insisted that Carissa still needed to rest. Though the fever was gone, she needed to regain her full strength.

  Ronan agreed, and once Bethane was out the door, he ordered her to bed.

  She was about to disagree when a yawn advised the same. Reluctantly, she retired to her sleeping quarters, Ronan promising to be close behind after he added more logs to the hearth and grabbed a couple to add to the small hearth in the other room.

  She changed into her wool nightshift, grateful Ronan had brought her clothes with them, and climbed into bed, snuggling under the warm covers. She wished Ronan would join her. She missed him in her bed. There were times when they had shared a bed that she would wake and be in his arms. She would lie still and enjoy his warm embrace. She had gotten used to his being there and disliked the empty place beside her.

  Ronan entered, and she watched him add dry logs that the flames quickly sparked to life. He stood and slipped off his shirt as he walked toward the bed. Could he be thinking of joining her? How she hoped he would. She would love to rest her head on his chest and sleep in his arms.

  “You’re all set?’ he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she lied. And wished she could tell him she wanted him to sleep with her, but if she did, he would think her to be Carissa and wanting sex, when she simply wanted him beside her.

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of making love with him, even if only for one night, but at the moment it was him beside her that she wanted the most.

  “If you need me—”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said.

  He nodded and turned away without another word, disappearing behind the curtain to the small sleeping nook.

  Ronan woke out of a sound sleep and shot up in bed. Had he heard something? He listened, but only silence greeted him. He dropped back on the bed. He turned on his side and punched the pillow a few times while trying to find a comfortable position.

  Damn if he didn’t miss sleeping with Carissa.

  He had gotten used to her body next to his, the familiar scent of apples drifting off her, the way she would snuggle next to him almost as if she couldn’t get close enough. But he hadn’t realized that until now…until he began to see Carissa differently.

  He sprang up again.

  This time he was sure he heard something. He got out of bed, disregarded his nakedness, pushed the curtain aside, and walked over to her bed. She tossed in her sleep, a groan escaping now and then. She was obviously in the throes of a bad dream.

  He didn’t hesitate as he climbed in bed beside her and wrapped her in the safety of his arms.

  She settled almost instantly against him, snuggling until she found a comfortable spot. Nosing her slim leg between his two warm ones, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

  Chapter 21

  Ronan grew thick and hard in the hand that stroked him. Damn, but it felt good, and it felt even better when her hand drifted down to cup him gently and squeeze lightly until he shivered.

  “One night, just one night love me.”

  When he realized it wasn’t a dream, he surrendered to his passion and captured her whispering plea with his lips. His hands tugged her nightshift up to explore her warm flesh, and it wasn’t long before his lips followed where his hands had touched.

  She tasted sweet, soft and silky and he couldn’t get enough of her. He grew drunk with the taste of her, and he wanted more, so much more from her. He slipped her nightshift up and over her head, tossing it aside as his lips claimed hers once again.

  She feasted on him as hungrily as he did on her. It was as if they were starved, and only the other could appease the gnawing hunger.

  Her hands explored him with as much enthusiasm as his hands did her. There was no hesitation or shyness in her touch, she explored like a woman who knew what she wanted and would give as much as she got.

  They rolled around on the bed like old lovers recently united, teasing and tasting until both could stand it no more, though it was Ronan who took control.

  He slipped his arm around her waist and swung her beneath him, planting himself on top of her. He grabbed hold of her hands and stretched them past her head as he kissed her.

  “Damn, but I love you, Hope.”

  “Now, right now, love me,” she said against his mouth, and stole another fiery kiss.

  He obliged. Not being able to wait any longer himself, he drove into her with a hungry need and she squeezed his hands hard as she gave a shout. He stopped abruptly.

  “No, no, don’t stop,” she urged, lifting her hips.

  She drove him deeper inside her and enflamed him even more.

  He released her hands, and he braced himself over her and set a rhythm that had her moaning with pleasure and him near to exploding. But he waited, and it didn’t take long before she screamed out his name; and then and only then did he join her.

  They slept soon after, though they woke and made love again, Carissa once again initiating it and he obliging, until finally they fell into a sound sleep.

  Carissa woke thinking she heard her name being called, but assumed it a dream when she listened and heard nothing. She smiled, turning in Ronan’s arms to look at him.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and kissed his lips gently.

  He didn’t stir, and she laughed softly. She had tired him out, but she would let him rest and not disturb him, for a couple of hours at least.

  “Carissa.”

  She stilled, her body turning completely rigid. Someone had called her. It wasn’t a dream. She carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb Ronan, dressed quickly, hurried into the next room, and came to an abrupt halt.

  “Septimus,” she said, and hurried over to him. “What are you doing here? Ronan is in the other room. You took—”

  “It’s Dykar.”

  She grabbed hold of his arm and kept her tone low. “What happened?”

  “A ragtag group of mercenaries captured him and demands to meet with the leader of our group.”

  “Did you send for Hagen?” she asked.

  Septimus shook his head, his expression troubled.

  Carissa knew before he said a word. She was expecting this, though hoping otherwise. Her secret had lasted longer than she expected. How did she think she could simply walk away from it?

  “They know our leader is a woman.”

  She nodded. “And they demand to speak to me.”

  “Or they threaten to kill Dykar,” Septimus finished.

  “Do you have any idea what they want of me?”

  “No, but time is short. We must leave now if we are to reach the appointed rendezvous.”

  She nodded, knowing she had no choice. “Are the men ready?”

  “They wait impatiently for your command.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “How can you ask me that?” she said as she yanked her cloak off the peg.

  “You have a chance at freedom.”

  “Not at the cost of Dykar’s life,” she said, and shoved him out the door befor
e her. “And you knew that.”

  “It’s just good to hear it.”

  “Now that you have, it’s time to go,” she said. “But first I need to speak with Bethane.” Before she shut the door, she whispered softly, hoping somehow it would reach Ronan, and he would know. “I will return.”

  Ronan woke with a leisurely stretch and a grin. Damn, he felt good, and he’d feel even better when he made love to Hope again. He turned to do just that and bolted up in bed when he saw that she wasn’t there.

  He was about to call out for Hope, but stopped himself and shouted, “Carissa.”

  He shouted twice more as he quickly slipped into his clothes.

  When he discovered the other room empty, concern struck his gut, and he grabbed his cloak as he headed out the door.

  The day was overcast and cold, though it didn’t look or feel like snow. At least he hoped not. He was suddenly eager to return to the security of his home. With hurried steps, he made his way to Bethane’s cottage, and after a hasty knock, he entered.

  “Just in time to eat,” Bethane said, pointing at the table set with two bowls and tankards.

  “Where is she?” he asked, closing the door behind him though not removing his cloak.

  “She’ll be back. She gave her word. Now sit and eat,” Bethane said, and ladled porridge into the bowls.

  “How do I trust the word of a barbarian?”

  “That’s a question only you can answer.”

  The scent of the food had him accepting her offer. He tossed his cloak over the back of a chair and scooped up a spoonful of porridge. Though it was good, it wasn’t as tasty as Carissa’s.

  “I agree,” Bethane said. “Carissa’s porridge is much tastier.”

  He gave up trying to figure out how Bethane knew what people were thinking. Besides, it didn’t matter. He wanted to know about Carissa.

  “How soon will she return and where did she go?”

  “I don’t know where she went,” Bethane admitted. “But she did tell me that you should return home, and she would come there when she can.”

  “What do you mean when she can?” he demanded angrily. “Damn, she tricked me again.”

  “Do you truly believe that?”

  “What else am I to believe? We make love for the first time, and she disappears the next morning.” He cringed. “I should not have told you that.”

  “Knowing that, I would surmise only something terribly important would have forced her to leave you.”

  “Or Carissa played me for a fool yet again,” he said, pushing the bowl aside. “Getting what she wanted from me and escaping.”

  “What did she get that she wanted from you?” Bethane asked.

  He couldn’t say aloud what he thought. He couldn’t admit to Bethane that Carissa wanted him to make love to her as he would have to Hope. But he did know what it had cost him. What she had taken from him.

  He stood. “My pride. She took my pride, and I am going to take it back.”

  Bethane tried to speak, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand.

  “No more advice. I opened my eyes as you suggested, but evidently not enough.” He grabbed his cloak and swung it over his shoulders. “I leave for home now.”

  Bethane shook her head sadly. “You may have opened your eyes, but you failed to open your heart.”

  Ronan tried to make sense of Carissa’s departure during the four days that it took him to get home. He wanted to believe what Bethane had told him, that Carissa would return. But why had she left in the first place? Why had she kept her departure from him?

  Thinking on it, he probably would have objected to anything that would have delayed their return home. And it wasn’t only because he finally felt ready to return home but because he wanted this matter concerning Carissa settled. Crazy as the thought was, and that he was even giving it consideration proved madness, but he wanted to spend time with Carissa to see if what he had begun to believe was true, that the woman he loved still lived within Carissa.

  There was also another problem that tormented him. He would be returning home without Carissa, and Cavan had trusted him with the task of bringing her to justice. And that meant returning her to him for judgment.

  Bethane had said that Carissa had given her word. But did he trust the word of a barbarian? Was there more to Carissa than he had first believed?

  He had disappointed his brother once already when he had gotten them captured. It seemed unforgivable that he should fail him once again.

  His thoughts remained troubled as he arrived home. A light snow dusted his cloak as he brought his horse to a halt on the moors and stared in the distance at the Sinclare village and keep. It had been what? Two years since he had been home? Two years since the battle that almost cost him and his brother Cavan their lives. Two years that changed him forever.

  But he was here, and there was no turning back. And so he rode forward to finally fully reunite with his family.

  Chapter 22

  Ronan was surprised to find the village in the throes of preparing for battle. He was quick to dismount and leave his horse waiting outside the keep as he rushed inside. The great hall was a scene he had once been familiar with, clusters of warriors waiting for orders while the laird conversed with the leaders who would command each troop.

  He was surprised to see Alyce, Lachlan’s wife, huddled with his brothers, but then he recalled her acute awareness of the situation when they had first met and realized that Cavan would certainly put her unique abilities to work for him.

  Before he could approach them, he heard a scream and didn’t have to look to see who it was. His mother rushed to him with outstretched arms, and he welcomed her with a tight embrace.

  “Finally,” she cried through tears, though she wiped them away and, clasping his hand, raised it high. And with a distinct, clear voice she shouted, “Ronan of the clan Sinclare has come home!”

  A cheer rang out so loudly Ronan could have sworn the rafters trembled. His mother escorted him to the table in front of the hearth. The table the laird of the clan occupied with his family and the one that now belonged to the new laird, his brother Cavan.

  Artair and Lachlan were quick to give him welcoming hugs, and his sisters-in-law sent smiles to him. Beside Cavan, there was a beautiful woman, with long black hair and lovely violet eyes, whose smile could melt the coldest heart.

  She greeted him before they could be introduced. “I’m Honora, Cavan’s wife, and I have so looked forward to your return.”

  “My brother is a lucky man,” Ronan said.

  “I often remind him of that,” Honora said with a soft laugh.

  Ronan had to smile. Honora was simply delightful. And he was so pleased to see that his brother had found such a wonderful woman. He wasn’t surprised to see Cavan wrap a strong arm around Honora’s waist and draw her near to him.

  “Honora is a precious gift I will never stop appreciating,” Cavan said.

  “That’s so romantic.” Zia sighed.

  “Now see what you’ve done,” Artair said, pointing an accusing finger at Cavan. “Our wives are going to expect the same romantic gestures.”

  “My wife gets them all the time,” Lachlan boasted with a grin.

  “Morning, noon, and night,” Alyce said teasingly.

  Ronan’s smile grew. “It’s good to see that some things never change. You still tease each other, and your wives now join in.”

  “And with great skill,” Addie said proudly of her daughters-in-law.

  A sprinkle of laughter circled the group, and Addie had her son sitting with food in front of him before he could finally ask, “What goes on here?”

  “We received word that two groups of mercenaries are gathering on the fringes of Sinclare land,” Artair said.

  “How did you learn of this?” Ronan asked.

  “One of our regular scouts informed us,” Lachlan said.

  “Do you know who leads each group?” Ronan asked, wondering if either were the grou
p he had fought alongside.

  “We believe we know one group though we don’t know the leader,” Alyce said. “We only know the man the leader sent to speak with us, Septimus.”

  “I know him,” Ronan said, not surprised since the mercenary group was a strong force with an imposing reputation. “I rode with the group. A courageous and skilled warrior called Dykar seemed in charge.”

  “But didn’t lead?” Cavan asked.

  Ronan shook his head. “I don’t truly know, since there were times he would disappear for days, and upon his return, new plans were implemented. I must say though that whoever is in charge of the group, he is an exceptional leader. He knew how to foster not only camaraderie in the men but an honor that was rare for mercenaries. And these men would do anything for him.”

  “I’d like to meet this leader,” Cavan said, and his brothers agreed.

  “He would be a good one to forge a friendship with,” Artair said.

  “I agree,” Cavan said, and looked to Ronan. “Do you think you could speak to Septimus and arrange a meeting with his leader?”

  “I haven’t seen Septimus in some time, but I can try.”

  “Hagen can talk with Septimus. He can leave right away,” Addie said.

  Ronan noticed that his three brothers instantly bristled.

  “Alyce can see to it for us,” Lachlan said.

  “I know Hagen,” Ronan said. “He’s a good man—”

  “Yes, yes, he is a good man,” Addie said, looking to each of her son’s with a stern eye.

  “And respected by the group,” Ronan finished, wondering what perturbed his mother. “I’m sure he’ll speak to Septimus on your behalf.”

  Addie stood. “Since it’s agreed, I’ll go ask him.” She stopped and turned back to place her hand on Ronan’s shoulder. “I am happy you are home, and we will talk when there is time.”

  “I look forward to it, Mother,” Ronan said, and Addie kissed his cheek before she hurried off.

  “I don’t know why the three of you,” Zia said, pointing from Cavan, to Lachlan and finishing with Artair, “must be so mean to your mother when it comes to Hagen. She has a right to fall in love again.”

 

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