Enchanted Lover

by Scharon, Connie C.

  Her captor seemed very amused by her raving. He had remained seated watching her as if she were some drama unfolding for his entertainment. "My father was neither a thief nor a bastard. Mayhaps you think of your own."

  "My father will take your head!"

  His eyes glittered in a cold threat. "Then he will die trying."

  "I canna marry a MacLean!"

  "I dinna recall giving you a choice." His features shifted into a leer. "You are distressed by my plan?"

  "Aye, I am. I canna be your wife!"

  "Do you think I will not be an attentive husband?" When Asilinn stomped her foot in rage his face broke into a lecherous grin. "What possible benefit can you reap from an unwilling wife?"

  He stood and stretched his massive frame. His eyes never left hers as he moved to within an arm’s length of her. His penetrating stare made her feel naked. "Aside from the most obvious benefit," he said, lightly running his hands down her arms, "I desire an end to this war. Our clans must unite and join the fight against England instead of wasting time in a squabble so old most cannot remember the root of it."

  "I dinna believe you," Asilinn snapped, jerking away from his touch and presenting her back to him.

  "It is your choice." The MacLean came to stand behind her. "But even your father would tell you I am a man of my word. You will be my wife in every sense of the word and the day our son is born there will be peace in the Highlands."

  "Our son," Asilinn gasped. She could feel the color rising to her face.

  "Aye, our son," he repeated. The seductive promise wrapped around Asilinn in the solitude of the cave sending chills up her spine. He meant to have her and soon—rough and by force, the way another MacLean had her mother those many years ago. It was the only way such an event could pass between two sworn enemies. She forced her quaking limbs still in stoic silence.

  Jared watched her go rigid. She stood motionless, her waist-length, golden hair shimmering in the firelight. Her skin was pale and creamy—skin that seduced a man by the very feel of it soft beneath his fingers. He would not be so easily affected by Asilinn’s charms. He knew too well what deceits a fair face could hide and he would never mistake who this luscious wench was. She was his sworn enemy from her birth to this day.

  She was like a statue, grim and distant in her composure. Her eyes held a sad faraway look—his doing. She was younger than he expected, perhaps more readily brought to see her purpose, but see it or not, she would fulfill it.

  "Are you promised to someone?" he asked.

  "If I were promised, would it make a difference?"

  "No."

  She spun around and pounded his chest with her small fists. "You and yours murdered my mother and brothers! I hate you!"

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her tight to him, and lifted her to meet his eyes.

  "Dinna waste your strength. The journey will be long and arduous and no amount of temper will sway my decision."

  Asilinn squirmed, sending warm enticement to his weary limbs. "God’s teeth," he swore when he released her. The wench was too comely for her own good. “Be still! I need a few hours sleep before it is dark enough for us to travel again." Taking hold of her arms, he examined the red skin on her wrists and then dropped them back to her sides. "This tantrum will make me tie you again."

  "No! Please, I wilna run off. I swear. Where could I go? We're miles from my home and I dinna know the way back. My wrists are sore."

  "You cannot get away from me," he warned.

  Leading her over to the pallet he had fashioned on the floor, Jared dropped to the ground and swung her onto his lap. He took a short length of rope, tied one end around her wrist and the other around his. Then he lay back on the makeshift bed pulling her along with him. She spluttered indignantly. He ignored her, pinning her possessively against him while he drifted into a light sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Asilinn vigilantly waited for Laird Jared MacLean to find sleep. His heavy arm cast firmly over her, holding her in his embrace. Even if he slept soundly, it would be a real challenge to break free. Her back was wedged against his muscular chest and she could feel every rise and fall of his breath.

  After she was somewhat certain he slept, she worked her wrist free of the tether binding her to him. It was a more difficult task than she had imagined with no knife to cut the bonds. The barbarian held her so tight she could not reach her dirk. She was afraid of waking the slumbering giant. She tried to make as little movement as possible.

  He groaned and leaned further over her. His hot breath tickled her neck. It was a strange feeling to lay intimately with a man. She tried not to dwell on the peculiar gush of feelings it stirred. Her fingers throbbed from working the tight knot of the rope. It seemed hopeless.

  But suddenly the knot pulled loose—she was no longer bound to him. If she could just get him to move, she could escape. Asilinn wriggled in a restless imitation of sleep. She decided if she turned to face him, she could more easily tell if he was waking. Carefully she eased her body over. When she did his chest rubbed against her thinly clad breasts sending a startling rush of heat over her. Her breathing became shallow—a dizzy breathless feeling overtook her. What was it about him that made her blood race through her veins? Fear, she decided, for nothing else in her life had affected her this way.

  When he turned in his sleep the weight of his arm lifted from her. Quietly she scrambled away from his sleeping form. She leaned against the wall of the cave and tried to calm the thundering rhythm of her heart. What should she do now? She had been perfectly honest when she told him she had no idea how to find her way home from here.

  Retrieving the dirk from her garter, she turned the small weapon over in her hand. He was such a large man. She doubted the short blade could do the deed. Alas, now she had the opportunity, she found she lacked the stomach for murdering him in his sleep. Were he to wake the outcome was sure. She replaced her weapon and eased into the shadows.

  The stallion lifted his head to watch her. She supposed she should take his horse. He'd never catch her on foot. The other horse would be lame for at least a day or two. Slowly she inched over to Ailleagian and rubbed his nose until the huge stallion nuzzled her hand. He was a fine horse, the finest she’d seen. Leading the horse to a rock near the entrance to the cave, she climbed astride the mighty beast. With one backward glance at her captor, she urged the horse out into the waning light.

  Cold drizzle fell in a swirling mist soaking her clothes in minutes. The stallion hesitated turning to look back at the cave while he waded through the stream. Frustrated with the slowness of her escape, Asilinn gave the beast a quick kick in the ribs to hurry him along. The horse exhaled loudly but refused to move any faster. They were only several hundred yards from the mouth of the cave and she was chilled to the bone.

  A shrill whistle cut the air behind her and the willful horse spun and galloped back to the entrance of the cave. The MacLean stood with his arms folded over his broad chest eyeing her bedraggled appearance.

  "So, Lady Asilinn is anxious to start for her new home." He reached up and plucked her from the horse's broad back. "Asilinn, Asilinn, you have disappointed me. I must now assume I canna trust you no matter what promises you make."

  Asilinn bit her lip trying not to cry. She was cold and miserable and he looked so damn smug about the whole thing. His hand moved to test the saturation of her robe. "Ugly evening," he mused. "But I cannot afford the luxury of waiting for your father to catch us."

  He opened a leather pouch in the corner and withdrew a pair of small britches, an oversized shirt, and a well-worn pair of boots. "Take those wet clothes off and see if these will fit."

  "I will do no such thing." Asilinn stamped her foot for emphasis.

  His face lit with amusement. "I'm glad milady still has her fighting spirit but I wilna have you fall ill due to my negligence. If you dinna remove your clothes and put these on, I'll do it for you."

  Asilinn felt her face flush steaming
hot. "Kindly avert your eyes."

  "Nay, sweet Asilinn. You'll have to earn my trust before you expect such privileges."

  "I hate you!" She whirled around so her back faced him, ripped off her wet robe, and stripped away the nightgown. She was in such a temper she did not care how much of her was showing.

  Jared sucked in his breath when he saw the firm roundness of her buttocks. He felt an immediate quickening in his crotch when his eyes flew over her perfect shape. He could just as easy have her now, stake his claim and ensure his plan. His tarse sprang full ready at the thought, but he wouldn't risk a treaty with her father by taking her before she was legally his. The marriage vows must come first then….

  She pulled up the britches and obscured part of his view. Her alabaster back and bare shoulders still tantalized him.

  Ailleagian made a sudden jerky movement and Asilinn spun around. Jared was struck by the perfection of the vision before him. She stood motionless staring into his eyes. He could not meet her gaze. His attention was focused on her body while she stood frozen for the feast the view presented.

  Her breasts were full and creamy white, capped with rosy crests that begged for his caress. If she stood there much longer, Jared would have no control at all. Angry at his lack of discipline he snapped at her. "Cover yourself!"

  Asilinn turned crimson and jerked the oversized shirt over her tender flesh. He let out his breath in a rush and walked over to her.

  The momentary gleam of a jeweled hilt caught his eye as the ragged groomsman's britches swung loosely about her knees. "Zounds!" He couldn’t believe it. The little wench was armed. Still dumbfounded by his rude refusal to grant her privacy she did not seem to notice he had seen it.

  "Sit," he ordered. Asilinn sank to the ground. He knelt, grabbed her slim ankle, and snatched the bejeweled dirk from her garter. Her small hands closed around his in recognition of his purpose.

  "Mother Mary, protect me from the dragon." She released her grip and crossed herself as if she thought he would strike her dead for her effort.

  With a low growl, Jared stripped off the wet hose and gave them a toss. "Dragon? Think you I am a dragon set upon purifying you with fire for your deceit?"

  "'Tis nigh deceit. You did not ask if I was armed."

  "Silence," he snorted through his rage. Her seemingly innocent beauty had seduced him into carelessness. It would not happen again. Satisfied his scowl made her sufficiently uneasy he turned back to the task.

  Slipping the dirk in his belt, he grabbed her ankle, wrapped it in a layer of soft wool, and slipped on the over-sized boot. The wool filled in the extra space around her foot. Satisfied she would at least be able to walk and stay dry; Jared gave the other leg equal treatment. Pulling her to her feet Jared took her plaid and wrapped it around her shoulders in a cape arrangement. It covered her head and kept most of her body in a snug cocoon. Stepping back, he appraised her appearance.

  "'Tis the best we can do for now." Turning from her, he loaded his meager supplies on the horse and slid her jeweled dagger into his pack.

  The impression of her naked form still lingered to send fire through his veins. Perhaps this was the punishment for all his sins, to have his body scalded by an enemy wife. It wouldn't be the first time—he fought down the bile rising in his throat. At least this enemy was known for what she was.

  He returned to Asilinn's side. His torture was just beginning. Now he must ride for hours with her pressed close to him, scorching his man root until it throbbed to possess her yet ever wary of when she might betray him. He lifted her onto Ailleagian and climbed up behind her, feeling the soft press of her hip against his hardness. Slinging the weighty leather cape over both of them, he guided the horse out into the rain that now fell in sheets.

  They rode through the foggy night moving ever west towards Dunbocan. The heavy leather blocked most of the rain from Asilinn, who leaned back against him when he pushed the horse forward. Asilinn dozed occasionally in their seemingly endless ride. Her whole body ached from her cramped side saddle position in front of him and still they pressed on.

  Eventually Asilinn felt the horse slow. The rain had eased a bit and she poked her head out of her leather cover. It was near dawn and they were riding through a narrow pass. The towering, gray-green giants of the Grampian Mountains rose above them tapering the trail to a tiny notch by their overwhelming size.

  The MacLean turned his full attention to her.

  "I just wanted a breath of air." Asilinn tried hard to ignore his penetrating stare as she looked around. "A secret pass through the Grampians?"

  "Hardly secret," he said. "Here we are most vulnerable to thieves who choose to prey on innocent travelers. It is a well-traveled trail."

  "How long are we in the pass?"

  "Are you planning another escape?"

  "I dinna think ‘tis safe here without some additional men. Father says a lone traveler is asking to be robbed."

  "True enough under most circumstances, I suppose," he replied with an amused grin. "Is milady afraid someone will steal her from me before we can complete our wedding plans?"

  "Blackguard beast!"

  "Put your head back under. The storm is far from over." As if to verify his statement, the heavens let loose with a drenching torrent of rain and the wind whipped wildly at Asilinn's hair. Her captor pushed her head under the cape and shoved it back against his chest.

  The foul weather had foiled Jared's attempt to get them through the pass before morning. They were moving much slower than he would have liked. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and searched for some sign of danger in the trail ahead.

  There it was—a tiny flicker of movement on the ridge above. His legs tightened around Ailleagian in preparation for their escape. They were almost at the critical point. Jared wrapped his arm securely around Asilinn's waist hearing her moan of protest. A brief smile flickered across his face when he kneed his mount into a little used side trail.

  ***

  High above them he perched on a rocky ledge. Turning his mount, he headed back to his master's encampment. He rode swiftly, fearful of the punishment that would follow if he failed to get the message back in time.

  When he finally looked into the black eyes of his lord, he dropped his gaze to regain his wits. "Laird Jared approaches with the Innes girl," he reported, never lifting his head to the searching eyes of death staring at him.

  "You've done well," his master's voice purred. The dark lord rose from his seat and gathered them all around him. "It must look like thievery. The girl must die but dinna kill Laird Jared. I have other plans for him and the time is not yet ripe. Keep your faces well hidden. I wilna have our plot discovered."

  The lookout shivered involuntarily when he watched each of his comrades’ nods of assent. There was no turning back now. He joined them when they ran to their horses.

  ***

  The clatter of hooves behind them echoed through the moors. A group of hooded riders swept after them in a cascade of thundering hoof beats. Jared turned in the saddle to get a brief view of what he was up against. He cursed when he saw their number. His cousins had begged to accompany him but he had insisted on completing his mission alone. Now it appeared he had miscalculated.

  At his command, the horse bolted to a flat out run along the rough earth. Seven cloaked figures pursued them with a vengeance and he was hampered by the burden of his future wife clutched tightly to his chest.

  Spurring Ailleagian forward he rounded a sharp bend in the twisting trail. He pulled the horse up short and dumped Asilinn on the ground. "To the rocks," he shouted, turning to challenge the oncoming riders.

  Asilinn scrambled to her feet and ran to the rocks, picking her way up the embankment. From her vantage point, she could see the trail below. Jared MacLean drew his sword from the scabbard and rode fearlessly into the throng of faceless riders outnumbering him seven to one.

  One assailant was knocked from his mount with Jared's first swing. Two others whe
eled their horses and fled in terror. Jared wielded the two-handed sword expertly, unseating the rider in front of him, but one of the others came at him from behind. The man struck him in the side of the head with the blunt end of a battle-ax. Asilinn let out a strangled gasp as her protector fell to the ground and lay motionless.

  The riders re-grouped and headed straight toward her position. Terrified, she sought to conceal herself in the maze of rocks and boulders littering the side of the trail. The men drew up in close proximity to her location and dismounted, fanning out to search for her.

  The tallest man gave the orders. "Find her." His cry was muffled by the mask hiding his features from view.

  How could they possibly know she was there? Perhaps her father sent them.

  Asilinn bit her lip in indecision. Should she reveal herself? No, her father's men would not conceal themselves behind masks. They would ride proudly after her, confront her captor in the open, and demand her release. These vermin must be robbers or else villains bent on some treachery to the MacLean's plan to take her for his wife.

  She heard a yelp of delight as the men spotted her. She tried to scramble away but her makeshift boots would not allow her the speed she needed. Two men caught her and dragged her to the tall man who had remained mounted.

  With a quick tug, one of the men tore her wrap off her shoulders until it hung in a lump around her waist. She stood before them in the raggedy clothes Jared MacLean had given her. Her colors billowed in the wind identifying her as a member of the Innes clan.

  The man to her right ran his hand through her hair. Asilinn jerked away and he snickered.

  "Give me a few minutes alone with this beauty before we do the deed," he petitioned.

  "Were there more time, I’d have the wench myself. She's a rare jewel," the tall man said, bringing his dancing horse closer.

  A strangled whimper tore from Asilinn's throat. The man on the horse conjured up a vivid vision from her past—the faceless man who haunted her nightmares—he reminded her of her mother's murderer. Her attacker was as hidden to her as the man who killed her mother those many years ago.