The man he knew would fall head over hills for this spitfire proud independent woman. The lad was twenty and five now and had never fallen for a woman. His smile and spirit blazed across his face, love would soon be in the air. He was going to take a trip to McKregan Keep in the morn and he would stop by the keep for a short visit with his dead laird's son.
Kagan stood and walked off of the stone steps that led to the gardens. He eyed Flaron as he tried to keep a straight face. The old buzzard was up to his match making again.
“Kagan, I swear she is the most beautiful woman I ha'e e'er laid my eyes on. Knows her own mind and can ride better than most men. She is'na betrothed and is alone in this world. By Dagma, if I were a few years younger I would hide her away and keep her for myself,” Flaron argued as Kagan fiddled with the hilt of his sword, “She is a beauty. Course if ye na up to the challenge, I will find ye little brother. I am sure he would jump to the girl's rescue and court her right real good.”
Kagan shook his head and smiled, “And what makes ye think that I would go out to ye abbey to find a woman, there are scores of 'em at my feet e'erywhere I go.”
“Cause this one is worth her weight in gold,” he smiled, “And it's time ye thought bout sirin' some babes to fill this keep with laughter like it used to be.”
“Why donna ye court her?” Kagan asked as he sat down on the stone wall.
“She is too fine a lass for me to court,” he laughed, “I am afraid my heart would burst if I were to lay down with another woman of my Keyra's caliber. Andra is somethin' special and needs a strong man to ease her fears of the world.”
Kagan stared hard at his old friend, “Andra?”
“That be her name, Andra Duncan I belie'e she said,” he replied.
Kagan's heart skipped a beat as he stood and smiled wickedly, “How long has she been at the abbey?”
“Seems like a year,” he paused, “Aye, has been a year since she arrived and begged the nuns for solitude.”
“Has she told ye why she came to the abbey?” Kagan questioned.
“Nay, only that she was runnin' from men that had hurt her in some way. She will'na speak of the details and hides in a shell when I try to get her to talk of it.”
Kagan slapped Flaron on the back and his smile all but blinded the poor man. Kagan offered him the bottle of scotch that sat on the stone table and laughed as he handed it to Flaron's outstretched hand. Flaron's brow strained against his forehead and he silently wondered what had caused Kagan's sudden interest.
“Was she aware ye were comin' here?” Kagan asked.
“Nay, but ye name was mentioned in conversation,” Flaron leaned back against the tree and continued, “Does she know ye?”
Kagan's roguish smile was hid as he turned to inspect the budding flowers, “She does as well she should, after all she is my betrothed. Her father ga'e her hand to me four years ago.”
“She knows of this? Was it ye who hurt her?”
“Aye, she knows but I ne'er hurt her,” Kagan's face twisted, “A man did somethin' to her that made her lea'e her home after she damn near killed him.”
“Do ye know what he did?”
“I ha'e an idea, but I hope for her sake that it is'na so,” Kagan growled, “The bastard was near death when I arrived and his words were broken sentences.”
“And when he healed, did'na ye question him?” Flaron fumed.
“He was unfortunate that day, my sword was'na forgivin',” he growled, “Her brother had been dispatched to find her, but he came back empty handed, swearin' she had disappeared into the highlands without so much as a trace.”
“It is unlike ye to give up,” he drawled, “less ye lost interest in a woman who may ha'e a scarred heart.”
“Her other brother, Crimm, confessed that he knew where she was, but he begged me to gi'e her time to heal,” he replied, “I agreed, but the O'Donnell's had waged a war with the O'Malleys. It was necessary for me to take care of the rivalry and to keep King James from knowin' how his kin were actin'.”
Flaron rubbed his beard and drank the last of the scotch. He had been sure that Kagan could tame the girl's heart, but now he was not so convinced of it. He frowned; he had probably just caused her more problems to deal with than she was ready for. He carefully considered telling her that he had spoken with the laird, but he felt that she would run again. But in the end, Flaron decided to let Dagma lead the two headstrong hellcats in whichever direction he wished.
Chapter 7
Andra's lungs filled with smoke and her eyes filled with fear as the orphanage was engulfed in flames. The heat singed her body as she desperately clawed through the dark smoke to find the children.
She counted as she grabbed, “One, two, three.”
She hauled them out ordering them to stay put as she ran back inside. She searched frantically crawling towards the crying, “Four, five, six, seven.”
She heard more crying but herded the ones she found outside to stand with the others. Flaron grabbed her as she started back in. She shook her head as she jerked away and fled back inside the burning inferno despite the fact that she could hardly breath and her eyes were bloodshot and glassy. Flaron followed, trying desperately to keep her in his sight as she crawled to the far side of the room.
“Eight, nine.”
She realized she must have been screaming the numbers aloud when Flaron's voice boomed from the hallway to her left, “ten, eleven, twelve...”
She pushed the children to their knees and headed them to the door. As they passed a bed that was ablaze, she heard the soft cries of the least of the children. She reached under the bed and drug the tiny lad into her arms.
“Thirteen!”
She ran outside, coughing and trying to breath. Her lungs hurt and her head was fuzzy. She quickly counted the children as she headed them towards Flaron's small cottage on the hill. She looked back to check on Flaron and her heart shattered as the red orange flames licked the night sky and blazed furiously around him. She ushered the children inside of the cottage and took one last look at the orphanage. Her heart broke and tears slid down her cheeks.
It was gone; all that was left was the black smoke and charred remains of the children's home. She turned to the sobs coming from within the cottage and hurried to their sides. She hugged and kissed every one of them, promising them everything was going to be fine. Hours passed as she held them and lulled them to sleep. She looked upon them and wondered what to do. Everything was gone. The supplies, the beds, the toys, their clothes and what few books they cherished were all gone. She edged out of the cottage and stared at the remains. What was she going to do?
“Help 'em,” she whispered to the heavens, “Help 'em and I shall be in ye debt.”
Andra stood quietly as she inspected the newly constructed one room shack. She frowned as she decided that it would have to do. It was warm, dry, and would serve the purpose, and for now that was all that mattered. She glanced at the children. Seth, the least one, was playing with a horse that Flaron had carved for him. He was so small and fragile, thank Dagma, they had found all of the children that night.
She smiled as the others giggled and chased Flaron. He had carved more horses and was teasing the children. He purposely dropped one and laughed as the little carving was scooped up by Izza, the bright eyed girl who never spoke.
They each, one by one, received a horse and Flaron was rewarded with hugs and kisses, except from the boys who opted to shake his large hand. Seth reached up to him and Flaron bent and quickly scooped him up into his arms. The boy’s long blonde hair wrapped around Flaron's shoulder as the boy flung his arms around his neck.
Flaron had become very attached to the boy and kept him by his side as much as possible. Andra smiled as Seth whispered in Flaron's ear some great secret that he wanted to share. Flaron laughed and swung him onto his massive shoulders. Her attention was drawn to the hillside by the distinct sound of hooves racing across the valley.
Andra flinched as sh
e made out the red and silver banner that one warrior carried. She huffed and hurried inside the make-do shack to avoid them seeing her. She prayed they would not come inside and if they did, she prayed none of them would recognize her.
Listening intently as she ran her fingers along the bookshelves that Flaron had made, she prayed harder. Trying to draw herself away from what was going on outside, she studied the shelves.
He was rather adept with his hands, and wood seemed to melt to his will. She wondered how they would fit all thirteen children in the room. She studied the floor, hoping it would miraculously extend another ten feet.
A cool breeze ran along her skin and she shivered. The hair on her neck stood stiff as a deep arrogant voice boomed into her conscious.
“Ell'andra Duncan.”
Kagan!
She turned, swallowing her pride and choking her fear back down, “Aye, milord.”
“Seems ye had a bit of a fire.”
She bit her tongue and smiled, “Aye, tis unfortunate but we have managed to come out fine.”
“Is this,” he asked swinging his massive arm around the room, “fine?”
“It is dry and warm. It is adequate,” she replied firmly.
“All ye ha'e to do is ask,” he started as she turned her face to avoid looking him in the eye, “Ask and I will...”
“Will what?” she snapped.
“Rebuild the orphanage, replenish the supplies, and,” he looked at the bookshelves, “bring the bairns scores of books.”
“At what price?” she asked as she moved to the bookshelves.
He grinned. Smart lass.
“That we finish what we begun,” he drawled as he stepped closer. “Ye will come to McKregan Keep and be my wife.”
Andra turned and looked him in the eyes. Grey, beautiful eyes.
Her knees went weak but she held them locked into place as she lashed at him with her words, “What kind of price is that? Share ye bed or let the children do without. I am'na a barmaid and will'na barter my body to ye! Name some other price or we are done with this conversation.”
Andra looked away and hoped he would consider another price. Times were hard and the children often barely had enough to eat. They would go hungry if it was not for Flaron bringing them fresh meat as often as he could. Her heart stopped as she realized that someday Flaron might leave and where would that leave the children. Where would it leave her?
Offering to rebuild the orphanage and replace whatever they had lost had seemed like an amazing idea. He had told himself to hold fast and keep a distant air where Andra was concerned. After all, there was no better time to woo her to his side then during the rebuilding. He wanted her as badly as he had before and he now had an advantage. Warrior that he was, he was going to use that advantage wisely.
Andra gritted her teeth and turned back to face him, he stood inches from her. “Ye will gi'e these children what they need, ye will rebuild the orphanage and send supplies e'ery month. Ye will'na let their bellies become empty.”
“It will be done,” he muttered as she stared into his eyes. She was breathtaking in her present state of mind, demanding and breathtaking.
“If ye want me, ye must allow me to stay here, to see to the bairns as they settle in to their new home,” she demanded, “Or ye can take 'em all with us right now to McKregan Keep.”
“And what would ye ha'e me do with 'em?” he asked.
“Raise 'em as ye own,” she returned. “Or at least find suitable mothers and fathers. If ye can’na find anyone to raise 'em, ye raise 'em as McKregans!”
He grabbed her arms and glared at the woman who stood fearlessly and warrior-like glaring back at him. She dared to defy him still and spoke with conviction and pride. The clang of steel echoed in his mind and his heart somersaulted in utter delight. She was fearless, bold, demanding, brazen, breathtaking and flawless.
“I canna gi'e 'em my name, the title belongs only to my sons and daughters, my flesh and blood,” he growled, “I will find someone suitable to replace ye presence if that is what ye require.”
“I donna want a replacement. I want lovin', carin' people who will adopt and cherish these children, who will raise 'em as their own!” she hissed as he crushed her to his body.
“Ye will come or I will throw ye o'er my shoulder and tie ye to my horse!” he threatened.
“Lea'e at once, we ha'e nothin' else to discuss!” she screamed as he caressed her arms and pushed her against the wall.
“You will come!” he insisted, “I will'na be denied of what was promised to me.”
“If you want me, succumb to my wishes or I will'na do as ye wish!” she returned, her voice faltering as he cupped her face in his hand.
“For a kiss, I will rebuild the orphanage,” he paused as she melted to his body, “And I will send supplies in the morn.”
“Today ye shall have ye kiss and tomorrow we will debate this further,” she whispered as her hands reached for his shoulders.
Her words were heavy and soft as they were spoken leaving Kagan’s mind in puddles. Kagan caught her mouth and slipped his tongue into her still parted lips. He savagely explored and tasted. Dwelling deep and long inside of her mouth, pushing his control to the brink of madness, and punishing himself he dared not let go.
His hands roamed her jaw line, her neck, her shoulders, and arms. He pushed himself against her glorious body and groaned as she ran her hands through his hair. Never had a woman been this successful at seducing his body. Never had a woman been able to turn his thoughts into mush.
She kissed him in return just as savagely as he did her. She wanted the kiss to last forever. She wanted to feel his tongue against her flesh and wanted his hands to claim every inch of her body. Her skin burned under his touch and delightful tremors of pleasure ran throughout her body as he explored her.
The smell of horseflesh and spice laced with scotch drugged her senses. She grabbed his hips and cried for him to hold her closer. Her brain screamed to make him stop and begged her willpower to push him away. Her hands, with a mind of their own, caught his large forearms and held them against her waist. She caressed his long beautiful fingers as they latched onto her waist.
Kagan was caught in her passion. He reeled in pleasure just from knowing how badly she wanted him. He let her capture his hands and groaned as her fingers danced on his skin. He held her lips as she arched against him and clung to his shoulders.
At that moment he knew he would give her the sun, he would buy her the moon, and he would even pluck the stars from the heavens for her. He could die in her arms and be no closer to Valhalla than if he were already there.
She moaned as he cupped her breast, the sound a dull ache in his heart. Her head fell back against the wall exposing her neck. He eagerly sucked and kissed its glowing beauty. His growl of excitement shattered what little resolve she still obtained. Her hands flew to his, crushing them against her breasts and hungrily took his lips.
He pulled from her mouth and said, “Come with me, to my side, to my bed. Let me please ye beyond ye wildest fantasies.”
Her back stiffened and she strained to keep her mind focused on his words. She begged all the gods that she had ever heard of for strength to resist the temptation that held her so wickedly and wantonly. She pushed at his chest as tears misted her eyes.
She would not share his bed, she could not share his bed, and she would not allow another man to hurt her. Not again, especially not this man. She pushed harder against the mighty wall of steel and begged him to stop. Slipping from his grasp, she stepped away as he took a long ragged breath.
Several long moments passed before she could control her voice enough to speak. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor as she turned to him. From the pits of her stomach, she begged herself to be strong.
He was shaken and dared not touch her again in fear that he would not stop even if she screamed. Even if she begged. His body was on fire, wanted her even against his mind’s denial.
“Ye
kiss has been delivered and appears to ha'e been to ye likin'. Now, uphold ye part of the bargain,” her voice remained calm and soft even though her body trembled.
“It will be done,” he whispered as he turned on his heel and left the shack and left his woman reeking with desire.
As his footsteps faded, Andra sank to the floor and burst out in uncontrollable tears. He wanted to bed her, wanted her to be his wife, and he wanted what she had sworn never to give a man. Her traitorous body still demanded his touch; her hands still could feel his body, and her lips longed for his. Her sobs worsened as her thoughts continued. At the rate she was going, she would give in to him and suffer the horrid pain again. She must not give. She would have to be strong and unbreakable.
She would deny him until he bent completely to her will.
She would use every ounce of her energy to punish his body for making hers wants his.
She would show that arrogant man that he would not have what he wanted, no man would have it. But above all else, she knew she would have to be cautious and avoid, getting attached to him. He had the power to protect and see that the children would thrive. In the end, if all else failed, she would give in on her terms, not his. She would not be conquered and she would use him to make sure the children had everything they desired.
Knowing that she needed to keep the upper hand at all times, she forced her mind and body to calm down. There was no room in her heart for sadness and tears and no room for a man like Kagan McKregan!
Andra's sobs subsided and she stood. She eased to the door and watched the man she had dreamt about for four years ride away. Her heart thumped wildly as he turned and smiled. He was beautiful and amazing. She slammed the door and a smile slowly crept onto her lips as his name fell from her thoughts to her tongue.
Chapter 8
Three weeks later, the eight room orphanage stood proudly beside of the abbey and it was stocked to the brim with every supply that Andra had asked the men for. The men Kagan had sent worked tirelessly beside of Flaron and Andra had to admit, she was impressed. On the last trip to get supplies, the men had brought back mounds of toys and new feather mattresses fit for kings.
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