A Warrior's Perception (20 page)

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Authors: Spring Stevens

BOOK: A Warrior's Perception
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The bairns ha'e become rather attached to their new mothers and fathers, but they miss ye very much,

he commented as she picked at the straw grass on her shirt.


I miss 'em too.


Are ye stayin'?

His voice was low and sad.


Nay, Marilyn says there be na extra beds and I donna want to impose,

she replied as she looked at the orphanage.


Nonsense! I ha'e another bed. Ye can stay with me and enjoy ye visit with the bairns. They would be
heartbroken
if ye left so soon.


Thank ye, but I ....


Hush, I will'na ha'e ye lea'ing tonight! Enjoy yeself,

he ordered as he pushed her towards the slanting hillside,

Go!

 

Andra lay on the feather mattress staring at the ceiling. She could not sleep as Kagan raged like a bull through her thoughts. He was a brute, a self-indulging, womanizing, powerful, beautiful,
well-endowed
brute of a man. Her loins burned and ached as she imagined his hands rubbing up her thighs.

Anger flooded her cheeks as her thoughts turned sour. He was probably rubbing his hands up Llana's thighs at this very moment. He would do things to her that Andra could not even imagine and refused to think about. Her gut churned as she stood. She needed the cool crisp air of the highlands to help calm her nerves. A brisk walk, a sturdy tree to kick, and a private place to cry her eyes out was most certainly what she needed.

She tippy toed out of the room and slipped past Flaron's. She eased out of the cottage and briskly walked towards the open field in the pale moonlight. The night's beauty was oblivious to Andra as she tried to sort her thoughts. The moon's silvery sheen cast rays of dreamy light down upon her shoulders and kissed her long curls in rapturous delight. Her sea green eyes hardened and her frown deepened as she edged farther away from the cottage.

All men were insufferable heathens. They held no pity or love in their hearts, if they even had hearts. Calin had been a friend when they were children, but now he was a man and no different than the rest. He had only wanted to bed her and had all but refused to take no for an answer. She cursed herself for her stupidity in trusting him. She was a foolish child to have ever let him kiss her and touch her. Her skin crawled as memories of Calin's lips feverishly taking hers banged inside her head.

Andra huffed and kicked at the rocks lying in her path. Every man in her life ran through her thoughts like stallions racing across the great desert she had once read about. Aran, her brother, had never cared what she was up to and had often told her to just stay out of his way. Her father was unbearable, always demanding this and demanding that. Crimm was almost as bad, but he was different in his own way.

Andra knew he cared about her and could not seem to find anything to curse him about. Then it hit her, Kagan. It was Crimm's fault that Kagan had come to Shinonoble, but it was her fault for sneaking out. She pursed her lips and stomped down the path to the valley below.

Why did Kagan have to be so cruel and arrogant? He wanted to hurt her just like Pierre had done. Andra knew Kagan was not like Pierre and she fumed at herself for ever thinking such thoughts about him. He was a heathen, but he was not sadistic. Her knees buckled and she sank to them as Kagan rode into her thoughts, naked and hard. His strong arms offered protection and honorable marriage, his powerful broad shoulders offered a home and wealth, and his manhood offered the pain of sex. His touch was so pleasing and Andra whimpered as her heart raced with her brain.

What did he want from her? Did he really want her to scream in pain, in misery to her master? Master. Master be damned!

Andra stared at the heavens and her voice rang across the valley floor like lightning dancing across the ground.


What cruel joke is it that ye gods play with women? Are ye all men? I will defy ye all, e'en stand 'fore Dagma himself 'fore I bend to ye will!

Andra tears stung the back of her throat as she stood and growled at the moon,

Kagan McKregan will wish he had ne'er laid eyes on me. I will break him 'fore he breaks me. Strike me down now if ye so dare. I will'na bend to any man's will. I am Ell'andra and I will'na break in the winds of man!

She was oblivious to the black steed standing in the distance among the trees, oblivious to the dark rider on his back. The laird's face was painted, half silver and half crimson. His bare chest was laced with the stains of battle and bloodshed. That battle lay forgotten in the back of his mind as he began preparing for the battle ahead.

He had heard her heated words, spoken with a defiance that would sear the feet of any god, including Dagma. He was slowly beginning to understand his opponent. Her pain lived hard under the surface of her skin and she refused to let it go. She had wrapped her heart so tightly around it that it ran along her veins with her blood. She was strong, proud, and far too intelligent for her own good. She needed a man to unwrap all her icy heart and heat up her core. If it was a fight she wanted, then by Dagma, he would give her one.

His lips tightened across his teeth as Flaron opened the cottage door from inside. He met Andra at the stone path that lead up from the field. They spoke, but Kagan could not hear the words clearly. She placed her hand on his offered arm and he placed his paw on her shoulder in a light hug. Flaron bent and kissed her forehead as she sagged forward onto his arm.

Kagan cursed and rage swept through his body as Andra hugged the brawny bastard. Demon jerked nervously as Kagan growled and sent him into a gallop. Demon flew on his powerful legs toward the cottage and caught sight of Andra. He snorted happily and continued on his hell bent path. The pair’s embrace broke as he cleared the stone path. Andra's dismay stretched across her face as she turned to him.


What are ye doin' here?


When the Laird Kagan McKregan wants his woman in his bed, she best be there or she will endure punishment the likes of which she will ne'er forget!

The words were said before he considered their affect. He allowed his eyes to soften to let her know he did not mean the hateful threat.


Do ye worst and I can only hope death follows quickly,

she spit at him as her eyes narrowed.


Where did ye plan on spendin' the night?

His deep growl thundered in her ears as he threw Flaron an evil look.


She sleeps in the spare room next to mine,

Flaron interjected as Andra's mouth opened to rage at Kagan.


Show me.

Kagan gave the order and Flaron turned to the cottage.

Kagan entered the room, filling it's small interior with his massive frame. He casually unbuckled his sword and propped it against the wall beside of the bed. He dropped onto the mattress and instantly knew Andra had been there. Her scent flowed from the mattress and teased his senses.


Come,

he ordered as he held his hand out to Andra.

She rolled her eyes at him but entered and closed the door behind her,

Donna ye ha'e somewhere else to be, some battle that needs ye attention?


I need ye to rub my back,

he replied.


Tonight is mine to do as I please, na yers.

She gripped the edge of the beds frame and stared coldly into Kagan's face.


E'ery night is mine.

He stood and grabbed her hands, pulling her around to the side of the bed,

Rub and make the ache go away.


Is that all ye want of me?

Her question hung in the air and Kagan's roguish smile bit into Andra's chest.


Are ye offerin' more?

He dropped back onto the bed and rolled onto his stomach.


Go home McKregan, go home to ye lover and lea'e me be!

Andra hissed.


Nay, I will stay here less ye be ready to go,

he muttered as he yawned.


Ye will lea'e now,

she coldly ordered.


Unfortunately, I can ‘na allow ye to stay in another man's home unchaperoned and lustily embracin' him e'ery chance ye get,

Kagan drawled his words to agitate her.

Andra smiled seductively,

Maybe I like touchin' other men.

Kagan groaned and slowly stood to confront her. The tub beckoned him from behind her and he stepped closer examining its clear contents,

Were ye takin' a bath?


Did ye hear me? I like touchin' other men,

she repeated forcibly.

Kagan dropped his kilt to the floor and stepped into the cool water as Andra's eyes widened. He smiled as he sank into the water and leaned back against the steels rim.


Come, will ye rub the lather onto my shoulders?

He asked softly as she edged to the tub.

Andra took the lye from his hand and lathered her hands. She rubbed across his shoulders and along both sides of his neck. His skin was hot and smooth. She swallowed the distinct taste of passion back down her throat as she ran her fingers down his arms that rested on the tub's rim.


Hmmmm, ye hands feel good,

he whispered as she lathered his forearms and hands.

She leaned over the tub and rubbed his jaw line, smearing the paint down his neck,

Stop grinnin' like a child.

He laughed and cupped her chin,

Could ye get all the paint off of my face?

She gently lathered his forehead, nose, and cheeks. Their eyes locked and she cupped his jaw in her hand, her thumb caressing his cheek. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she shivered as he spoke,

I need ye.

For reasons that were completely unbeknown to her, she leaned forward and lightly grazed his lips with hers. The heat sparked and ran wildly through her body. Her hands slipped to his shoulders as his tongue flicked out to taste of her lips. She met his tongue and hers greeted his with liquid fire. Andra pulled back, afraid she would jump into the tub with him. She stood as he grabbed her hands.

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