A Warrior's Promise (15 page)

“Damn, but I enjoy kissing you.”

With that, he kissed her again.

Chapter 17

C
harlotte sat stunned from his quick, passionate kiss. His lips were devouring her one moment and gone the next, the campfire once again separating them. She didn't know what to do or what to think. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts that made no sense. And her body was still reeling from the intimate caresses Bryce had rained all over her only moments ago.

She was in an utter state of confusion, her body flushed with heat and her lips aching for more. She did the only sensible thing she could. She stretched out on her blanket and turned her back to him without saying a word.

She didn't trust herself to speak. She feared her own words, feared she would beg him for more—more kisses, more touches, and more—

Charlotte shut her eyes tightly against her wanton thoughts. How could she justify surrendering herself to him when they had shared nothing more than a kiss or two? Had she gone completely mad? And under the circumstances, was this the appropriate time for such a thing?

And more importantly, was it just a quick rutting she wanted or was she expecting more?

Leave it to her logical side to interfere though she was grateful for it. There was more to consider before she did anything she could possibly regret. And, the way his kisses had made her feel, it would have been much too easy to surrender to him.

She was also grateful for Odin. The large dog crawled over to her, making his way beneath her arm and planting his big body next to hers after giving her face a quick lick. She hugged him though she couldn't help but think she would much rather it be Bryce she had her arm wrapped around.

Odin gave her face another lick, as if understanding. She smiled, gave his face a kiss, and whispered, “Don't you worry; I love you and always will.”

The dog responded, snuggling his face to her chest, and promptly went to sleep.

Not so Charlotte. She lay awake, her mind much too busy with thoughts. She ached for sleep to claim her and end her torment. It wasn't only the endless thoughts she wanted relief from, but the tingling sensations that rippled through her body. They returned every time her thoughts lingered on how Bryce had caressed her, so gentle yet determined.

And then, of course, she wished he was stroking her again.

She caught herself before she almost moaned aloud, clamping her lips tightly shut. She would not let him know that their short encounter had robbed her of sleep and filled her with even more desire.

With the passing hours, she feared that sleep would never come, and so she kept her eyes tightly shut and repeated the single word over and over and over in her head—sleep, sleep, sleep, until the steady rhythm finally brought her what she wanted.

Morning came all too soon, and Charlotte lazily stretched herself awake, feeling as if she had not slept a wink. Being so tired, though, did have its benefits, she was simply too fatigued for mind chatter. Her only thought was on rest, which she would not get until this evening, when once again they made camp.

She was surprised when Bryce didn't comment on her slow start or her copious yawns. It took only a moment for her to realize why. He was moving just as slow as she was, and his yawns were as abundant as hers.

She smiled, satisfied that he had slept as poorly as she had and no doubt for the same reason. It gave her a boost to get moving, lightened her step, and kept a grin on her face.

“You're cheerful this morning,” he snapped.

“I believe it will be a good day.”

“How can you say that when gray skies greet us this morn?” Bryce grumbled.

“Showers can wash away troubles.”

“Then we need a rainstorm,” Bryce said and stomped off into the woods.

C
harlotte worried that Bryce just might get that rainstorm, the clouds having thickened heavily after only a couple of hours. Not a drop of rain had fallen yet, but it didn't look promising.

“Where to from here?” she asked, not a word having been exchanged between them since they left camp and her too curious to keep quiet any longer.

As she waited for Bryce to answer, Odin brought her a stick.

“Not now, Odin,” she said, and dropped the stick.

The dog was insistent picking it up and nudging her hand with his nose.

“Not now,” she said annoyed, though more at Bryce for not having answered her yet.

The dog refused to be ignored, and Charlotte finally grabbed the stick, ready to toss it, when her eyes popped wide.

She dropped to her knees, staring at the stick. “You found his messages.”

Bryce turned at Odin's loud bark.

He raced to Charlotte's side, dropping down beside her. “What's wrong?”

“Odin saw what I didn't,” she said with a tear in her eye. “He's found my da's messages.”

Bryce took the stick from her hands. “I don't see anything.”

Charlotte took the stick from him and pointed to what looked like nothing more than scratches in the bark. “These are symbols my da devised as a way for us to communicate if ever separated.” She shook her head. “He did it right after I got lost, but there was never a reason for us to ever use them. I had completely forgotten about them.”

“You wear your da's clothes, right?” Bryce asked.

Charlotte nodded knowingly. “Odin picked up my da's scent on the sticks from his clothes.”

Bryce shook his head. “How could he have managed to engrave the sticks when always being watched by the soldiers?”

It was an easy question to answer knowing her da. “No doubt he did it right in front of everyone.”

“How is that possible?”

“My da loves to draw and would often sit and draw images in the dirt with a stick. It fascinated many how beautifully he could draw, and I imagine he entertained those around him with his talent, soldiers included, while his nails worked at engraving the symbols.”

“Do you recall what the symbols mean?”

“It has been a long time, the symbols crudely made, no doubt due to my da's situation,” she said. “What I can decipher is that he travels west. I believe there is an unfinished symbol here, but I cannot make out what it is.”

Bryce stood and paced in front of her. “I don't understand why he travels west. The king has few supporters there.”

“The other symbol could tell us more if it were legible.”

“Your da will leave more messages. We need to make certain we find them.”

Odin gave a bark.

Charlotte hugged the dog and rubbed behind his ear. “That's right, Odin, you'll find them for us, won't you?”

The dog answered with another sharp bark.

Charlotte stood, holding on to the stick. “Are we headed west?”

“We will be after I make one stop.”

“Where is that?”

He didn't answer.

He seemed to give it thought, and his hesitation surprised and upset her. Had something changed between them, and she hadn't realized it? She wanted to know, and so she asked, “Suddenly you don't trust me?”

“It isn't that,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need to visit Clan Comyn, and they can be a rowdy bunch.” He hesitated again.

“Spit it out,” she said, fearing he didn't want her going with him.

“Going as a lad could prove difficult. It would be best if all knew you were a lassie.”

“That would restrict my movement and ability to learn anything.”

“You already know where your da goes,” he reminded. “There is nothing you need to learn from the Clan Comyn.”

“There is always something to be learned,” she said.

“They'll be expecting you to drink with them.”

“I'll get around that.”

“They'll be boasting about the women they've known.”

“Like you did?” she asked with a grin.

He didn't find her response funny, and it was with a stern look that he said, “They'll offer you a woman for the night and not take no for an answer.”

Her grin faded in a flash. “They'll offer you one, too?”

It was his turn to grin. “That they will.”

“You'll not turn them down?”

“It wouldn't be polite.”

The thought of his bedding a woman other than herself infuriated her. As irrational as it was, she wanted to reach out and strangle him. How dare he even conceive the notion? Just last night he told her how much he enjoyed kissing her, and now he would go kiss another. She would throttle him first.

It was then the solution hit her and no soon as formed in her mind than it was out of her mouth. “If I go as a lassie, then I go as your woman.”

“You'll be expected to share a bed with me.”

Better me than another woman.

She kept that thought to herself, and instead said, “We'll manage.” She wasn't sure how that would work, though she was curious to find out.

They only took a few steps when she called out, “Wait.”

Bryce turned.

She didn't want to admit it, but it was for the best. She couldn't allow her curiosity of sharing a bed with him to interfere with what needed to be done. “I must remain disguised as a lad.”

“Why?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

“It will jeopardize our mission,” she said. “Gossip is the mainstay of most clans and villages. It is how news is carried, things learned. It wouldn't be long before news spreads about the mighty Highlander and his woman who wears lad's clothing.”

“Others have learned of your gender.”

“They understood why we maintained the ruse and are not likely to betray us.”

Bryce shook his head slowly and reached out to stroke her cheek. “I hate to admit you are right, but you are. We need to continue this ruse. It would be unwise to do otherwise. But—” He took hold of her chin. “Promise me you will not do anything foolish.”

“I never do,” she said with a grin. “It is the fools I must contend with that cause the problems.”

Bryce's hands gripped her shoulders. “Listen well to me, woman. I'll not see you place yourself in danger.”

“Then close your eyes, for if it is necessary for me to do so to save my da, then I will.”

He shook her. “You are impossible.”

“I thought I was stubborn.”

“And quarrelsome,” he added.

“And you're”—she stopped, and her voice softened—“a good man for putting up with a troublesome lad.”

He shook his head again and kept shaking it, and only stopped when his lips claimed hers.

Without thought or hesitation, Charlotte's arms went around his neck. She wanted this kiss, ached for it since last he kissed her. And she intended to savor every moment.

His lips were strong against hers, taking command, leading, and she followed willingly. How his kiss could do so much she didn't know, but it did. It not only sparked her passion but made her feel safe and protected. Nothing could happen to her when she was in his arms, nothing.

She wasn't aware of when he had slipped his arm around her waist and hoisted her up against him. She was too hungry for his kiss to realize anything. And he was too, for he fed the kiss until she thought she would burst from its fullness.

And still it was with reluctance that they both brought the kiss to an end.

“You will do nothing foolish, or I will throttle you,” Bryce said, having rested his brow to hers.

“I would rather you kiss me,” she said.

“You like my kisses, do you?” he asked teasingly.

She gave a faint laugh. “I more than like your kisses, and I favor your touches.”

He drew his head back, and she almost recoiled, his blue eyes raged with such heated passion.

“Be careful what you say, for I have a thirst for you that needs quenching.” He put her down, turned, and walked away.

She followed, though she kept several steps behind. He wasn't the only one with a thirst to quench.

T
he closer they got to Clan Comyn, the more Bryce's worry grew. The Clan Comyn were good people, but their warriors a boisterous bunch. They were fierce warriors and favored their mead, their games, and their women. And his reason for seeking them out was to see that they would support the true king.

It was no secret that the clan didn't favor King Kenneth though it did nothing to incite him. So it wasn't quite known who Clan Comyn would fight alongside when the time came, and Bryce was there to convince them to choose the true king.

The problem was that he hadn't expected to have to worry about having a wee bit of a lassie along dressed like a lad and who he found himself much too attracted to. He warned himself not to get close, not to kiss her, but that was like asking him not to breathe. And the thought that she had become so damn irresistible to him frustrated him.

Now he would worry even more about her, especially while at the Clan Comyn. He cringed when he thought of what she would be subjected to, the vivid tales of battle and conquests of women. He cringed again.

Charlotte should not be hearing such sordid things, but how did he stop it. She was right about the consequences of gossip concerning a woman garbed as a lad. It would definitely prove dangerous for her, more so than entering the Clan Comyn disguised as a lad.

He stopped and turned to Charlotte. “You'll not remain at my side when we arrive. I'll not see you forced to partake in whatever debauchery they subscribe to.”

Damn, but he hated that she would be on her own again.

How did he protect if she didn't remain beside him?

His sudden realization came with a smile. “I trust that you can take care of yourself. I know that you are no fool, though I sometimes say otherwise. You are skilled with a bow and agile enough and have extracted yourself from difficult situations before.”

Though he knew all that, it didn't make it any easier for him to admit it. His thought was to protect her, though, truthfully, his fear was losing her. He didn't know if he could live with himself if something should happen to her, and he hadn't been there to save her. And the thought of not having her around, never kissing her, never getting to make love to her—ripped at his gut and tormented his heart.