Highlander's Captive (2 page)

As he traveled the line, Cree counted. When he got to the end, he yelled reminding the young lads to stay close. With his count accurate, he was about to turn his horse when he saw a sizeable lump of snow in the middle of the road only a few feet behind them. He thought to take a look, but with his count accurate it couldn’t be one of his men. Besides, he wanted to get his troop to the abandon croft about an hour away. There would be enough shelter there to get everyone warm and fed and to get a good night’s sleep since tomorrow they would travel until they reached the abbey. And that was a full day’s ride away.

He turned his horse and rode to the front of the line, thoughts of Dawn weighing heavily on his mind.

The long abandoned croft was a welcome sight. It had once been a thriving farm and Cree intended it to be so once again, though it would also serve as a sentinel station. He planned on having several of the empty crofts do double duty. He wanted his people and land well protected and early detection of any approach to his land would help with that. He had already had some of his men begin work on the place, so a few of the buildings had seen some repair and would provide sufficient shelter for the night.

Warmth greeted Cree when he entered the cottage and he went straight to the fireplace and held his cold hands out to the heat of the roaring flames. He gave a glance around as his hands warmed. Food and drink waited on the small table he had stepped around to get to the fireplace, while a make-shift pallet lay to the side. Sloan had seen well to his duties and was now seeing to the warriors, though when it had come to battles, Cree had been right there to help with the aftermath of death and destruction.

The image of Dawn suddenly filled his thoughts and chased the horrific memories away. He found himself smiling, something he had been doing more of since Dawn had entered his life. He truly hoped this mission would not take long. He wanted to find his sister, return home to Dawn, and wed her so that she would be officially his. Then he would find a good husband for his sister.

Wintra.

She had been so angry when he had left her at the abbey ten years ago. But what choice had he had? After their mother had died, he had known all too well that he would not be staying to work the land. He wanted more than a small parcel of land that he worked for someone else. Someone who cared naught for him and his sister and would put them out at a moment’s notice without thought to their welfare.

It hadn’t been an easy decision to take Wintra to the abbey, but it had been a wise one. He wanted her safe until he could provide a permanent home for her. It had taken longer than he had hoped and with the passing years Wintra had grown angrier with him. He wondered what she would do if she ever discovered the secret he and their mother had kept from her. That she was a child conceived of rape and that he was her half-brother. That day his mother had returned from the field, battered and bruised remained forever vivid in his mind. She had refused to tell Cree what had happened, and being just ten years, there hadn’t been much he could do about it. When she had begun to grow round with child, it had only proven what Cree had feared—that someone had raped his mother. But his mother would never speak about it. The only thing she would say to him was that it would be better if Wintra believed that she and Cree had the same father and so the lie began. As far as his sister would ever know, they shared the same father and he had died just before she had been born.

He shook the disturbing thoughts away and shrugged out of his fur-lined cloak, tossing it over the only chair in the cottage. He was about to fill his tankard with ale from the pitcher on the table when raised voices outside his door caught his attention. His hand went to his sword that he had placed against the chair just as the door flew open.

Cree stared for a moment at the figure in the open doorway. He was large, his hooded cloak covered with snow as was the bundle he cradled in his arm. He shook his head free of his hood and Cree was surprised and a bit annoyed to see Torr McClusky, Dawn’s half-brother. He had told the warrior that he hadn’t required his help and still the man had followed him.

Sloan suddenly hurried in behind Torr. “What are you waiting for? We need to get her warm.”

Cree felt his stomach clench, and he shoved the table out of his way to get to Torr and take the bundle from him, realizing it was Dawn.

“Good God, she’s ice cold,” Cree said, taking Dawn from Torr and with two, long strides was in front of the fireplace. He sat on the chair Sloan had hurriedly placed there and pushed the plaid away from her face that had at least sheltered her from the snow, though not the bone-chilling cold.

Torr appeared beside him, holding his hands out to the flames, the snow on his cloak rapidly melting and puddling at his feet.

“Where? How?” Cree asked, placing his warm hand against her pale cheek, her lips slight blue and her eyes closed as if in… He shook his head. She was not dead. He would not let her die.

“Thanks to my mare who had insisted on prodding the lump in the road that I had thought to avoid, I found her. She must have followed you.”

“Two of the lads had mentioned that another lad had gone missing,” Sloan said. “I foolishly paid it no heed, since the count of the men was accurate.”

Cree thought of the lump of snow that had caught his attention on the road, and he had ignored. It had been Dawn. She had laid there helpless, a few feet from him, and he hadn’t gone to see what it was. If he would have found her, she would be safe now. He silently cursed himself for not investigating it.

“Has she woken at all?” Cree asked.

Torr shook his head. “She stirred some when I lifted her, but she hasn’t opened her eyes.

“I have to get her warm,” Cree said more to himself than the other two men, realizing that while the wool plaid had offered some shelter from the snow, it had also aided in chilling her. The snow had soaked through the wool, wetting her garments.

Torr reached out to help as Cree lifted Dawn, gently slipping the plaid off her.

Sloan helped, unwinding the fur wrappings at her legs and shaking his head. “It’s a deep chill she has caught.”

“You need to warm her,” Torr said his worry evident in his clipped tone.

Cree grew more annoyed, though contained it. The man did, after all, save Dawn, but he didn’t need to be told what he already knew and feared. He had lost men to deep cold before. They would simply drift off and never wake again, and he’d be damned if he’d let that happen to Dawn. He wanted her fully awake when he punished her for being so foolish. But first he would hug and kiss her and be grateful that she was alive, then he would punish her.

“Leave, I will see to her,” Cree ordered.

The two men nodded, knowing the best way to get her warm quickly.

“Torr,” Cree called out before the man reached the door. “You will tell me why you followed us when I had made it quite clear that I didn’t require your help.”

“You were clear enough,” Torr snapped. “And so is the missive that arrived from the King shortly after you left. I knew you would want to see it right away, so I brought it to you. And good thing I did or my sister would be dead.”

Cree cursed beneath his breath, annoyed at the man for being right and grateful to him for following, though he wasn’t sure how happy he would be with the message from the King. But that had to wait. Dawn came first. He would not lose her or their child. He planned on having many more children with Dawn. And he didn’t care if one or all of them lacked a voice, he would love them regardless just as he did their mother.

He got busy right away, stripping Dawn of her wet garments and rubbing her cold flesh as he went. He had thought that his worry over her would prevent him from growing hard and doing what needed to be done to warm her. But he need not have, for as soon as he touched her, he began to grow hard.

Damn, she was so pale, so cold. How did he make love to her when she was so lifeless?

Touch her; bring her to life.

The words echoed in his head, and he finished stripping her naked. Once he did, he placed her gently on the pallet and covered her with a blanket while he quickly stripped off his clothes, discarding them at his feet.

He took a moment to move the table and chair and drape her clothes over the end of the table closest to the fire. Then he grabbed the edge of the pallet and carefully dragged it, and a sleeping Dawn, over in front of the fireplace. Without delay, he joined her beneath the covers.

He snuggled her against him, her body so cold that it ran a chill through him, and he couldn’t stop from shivering. And though her cold flesh continued to chill him, he didn’t let go of her. He pressed her even closer against him, letting his body’s heat seep into her and hopefully warm her. He rested his cheek against her cold one for a moment before he rained kisses over it and grew upset when she remained unresponsive.

Not a move. Not a flinch. Nothing.

He had grown accustomed to her having no voice, not issuing a sound. But gestures, moving, were her way of communicating and so this silence was more disturbing than ever to him. It was as if death had already claimed her, and that he would not allow.

He eased her to rest on her back and a little more aggressively ran his hand over her cold flesh, squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, taking a moment to splay his hand over her stomach where his babe lay nestled, and then he slipped his hand between her legs to massage her thighs before spreading them and thrusting a finger inside her.

A low growl echoed down through his chest, so annoyed was he that she had not responded. He had thought—damn—he thought that her body would spring to life like it always did when he touched her intimately. Fear nipped at him and he shoved it away. He had kept fear at bay, never allowing it to control him and he damn well wouldn’t let it sneak in now.

He did what he had wanted to do since he had taken her in his arms. He kissed her. He pressed his warm lips to her cold ones, and though she still did not respond, he did not let it stop him. He continued to kiss her and none too gently. He nipped at her lips, tugging at them with his teeth, hoping to heat them and bring them to life before returning to kiss her again and again. As he continued assaulting her with loving kisses, his finger teased between her legs, working to stir a response from her.

He kept his body close against hers, his one leg draped over one of hers, his chest partially covering one of her breasts, and he sent a silent prayer to the heavens.

When still she didn’t respond, he began talking to her.

“I should thrash you for being so foolish, but I won’t as long as you wake up and let me love you. I want to love you so badly that it hurts. Feel how hard I am for you?” He took her hand that he thought felt warmer, or perhaps he had wanted to think that, and placed it on his hardened groin, holding it there. “I’m forever hard for you. Do you know that, Dawn? I look at you and grow hard. I but touch you innocently and I grow hard. I see you smile and I grow hard. And when you touch me here,” —he squeezed her hand around his thick shaft—“I feel like exploding.”

Her hand remained limp, and so he tucked it between his legs where it was nice and warm. And he returned to tease her nipples only this time with his tongue as his hand massaged warmth back into her cold flesh.

He would stop every now and then to threaten or express his love.

“Don’t you dare die on me or I’ll war with the heavens to get you back.”

Still she didn’t stir.

“Damn it, woman, I love you and I will not surrender you to death. You belong to me; death cannot have you.”

He continued with his touches and his tirades until with a sigh he leaned his brow to hers and said, “Voiceless or not, I love you and I always will. You are mine; you belong to me.”

He felt her stir then and he saw her eyes flutter and he gently slipped over her and into her, his thrusts tender as he continued to stir her back to life. Her body began to respond, and he felt warmth return to her limbs. Relief spread through him and he grew harder knowing that each thrust was like a breath of life to her, so he continued feeding her breath after breath until…

Dawn’s body bucked against the exquisite heat that she couldn’t get enough of. It chased away the frigid cold that had frozen her. She had feared that she would never move again until little by little warmth had begun to creep inside her. Slowly at first, until it spread into the coldest regions of her body and she began to feel life return to her limbs.

A shot of warmth penetrated her darkness. A kiss. Warm lips pressed against her cold ones. Familiar lips. Cree’s lips. She wanted desperately to respond, but at the moment she couldn’t. The bitter cold bit down to her bones, and she couldn’t move. She had to regain her strength and chase away the iciness that froze her. And those lips were helping to do just that. And those hands? Lord, if they didn’t spark a fire that began to spread rapidly.

She swallowed the silent moan that radiated throughout her body as something warm and wonderful and deliciously intimate worked its way inside her ever so determinedly. She had to wake up. She had to. She fought against the darkness and the cold that was slowly fading away. Then finally when she felt a thick hardness slip into her and move ever so gently, she managed, with a struggle, to open her eyes.

Cree was staring at her, a scowl coupled with a smile on his face. “Come for me,” he whispered and squeezed her mouth open so that his tongue could dart in and drive her crazy, turn her hot, and make her want to come repeatedly.

His tongue thrust as he thrust, and she managed to move one hand and press it against his muscled arm as she tried to match his rhythm, but without success, her body still too stiff from the cold.

He drew his mouth away from hers and whispered in her ear, “Slow and easy, Dawn, until I thaw you completely.”

That sounded good to her, for it was truly difficult for her to move. Besides, she was enjoying being thawed. While her climax was building and making her feel incredibly warm and wonderful, she also felt drained and thought of how delightful it would feel to fall asleep safely in Cree’s strong arms.

Her climax sent a shot of heat down to her very core and the second one that quickly followed flamed it even further until it consumed every pore in her body. The third one left her spent and unable to move.

“Dawn?”

Cree’s voice was gentle and filled with concern.

She opened her eyes, though she did not want to. She much preferred to go to sleep.

“Answer me or I will throttle you?” he snapped with a brush of his hand along her brow.

She grinned wide and nodded, no doubt looking foolish, but she didn’t care. She felt warm, comfortable, and safe. She was with the man she loved. Her eyes suddenly widened, realizing where she was and that she had just made love with her husband. How had she gotten there? Had her husband found her?