Loved By a Warrior (12 page)

“Bryce has a point,” Carmag said. “I'll speak to Neil about it and see what he suggests.”

“Any other news?” Carmag asked.

Reeve shook his head. “Nothing. I delivered the message, heard the gossip about the king, and headed home.”

“Missed her, didn't you?” Duncan said with a grin, then looked to Bryce. “I'm going to win the wager.”

“Are you looking for a beating, Duncan?” Reeve challenged, a smirk edging its way past his snarling lips.

Duncan laughed. “You're beating yourself up so badly over this that you'll have no strength left to fight me.”

“I am not,” Reeve insisted. “I'm simply seeing where it takes me.”

“Well, watch out,” Duncan advised, “you're already falling, and when you finally hit”—he grinned and chuckled—“it's going to be like something you've never felt before.”

“That's why I won't be falling in love anytime soon,” Bryce said.

Duncan laughed again. “That means you're next since Reeve believed the same.” He rubbed his hands together. “Damn, I'm enjoying this.”

“Shut up!” Reeve and Bryce yelled out in unison.

Duncan laughed harder.

Chapter 13

R
eeve was eager to see Tara. After finishing with his brothers and father, he had a few other matters to attend to and then he went in search of her. She wasn't in the sewing room and neither was Mercy. He inquired about Mercy since she had mentioned she wasn't feeling well and discovered that she had gone to her bedchamber for a rest.

Next he found his mother, but she hadn't seen Tara since the morning meal. So he grabbed his wool cloak and left the keep, heading to Tara's cottage. Snow must have started falling earlier, a good inch having covered the ground. Children ran around squealing with delight and sticking their tongues out to catch the fat flakes.

The sheer joy on their red-cheeked faces had him smiling and thinking. He had assumed that one day he would have children, not soon, but someday. Now suddenly he found the idea more appealing than ever. He could just imagine playing in the snow with his son or daughter, perhaps both and possibly even more. He had always hoped he'd have a gaggle of children.

Reeve's smile suddenly faded, old memories suddenly tearing at him.

“What stole your happy smile away?” Tara asked, coming up beside him and hooking her arm around his.

“Sad memories,” he said, and gave her a quick kiss.

“Share them with me?”

He didn't think twice. “I recall the day in detail, though I was only four years when I lost my whole family. My father, mother, and older sister Netty were killed by King Kenneth's troops, though he was not king yet, in a bid to take the throne.”

He paused a moment, seeing the past materialize before his eyes. “I had hid in the woods with Netty. She was ten years, and when she saw what was happening, she ordered me to stay where I was no matter what, and she ran to help our parents.”

He took a breath, remembering much too vividly the carnage. “I watched them all die and never moved until hours after the soldiers had gone. I don't know what I would have done if Bryce hadn't happened along. He found me sitting amongst my family's bodies, crying. He gently took my hand and told me we were brothers now, and he would look after me. I went with him, never glancing back, though the scene remains far too vivid in my memory.”

“I am so sorry,” Tara said softly. “That had to be horrible for a lad of such a young age to witness.”

“It was,” Reeve admitted. “But if it wasn't for Bryce, I would have never survived. I would have died along with my family, being too young to know what to do.”

“I thought you told me Bryce was only a year older than you.”

“He is, though he's years wiser, always has been. He kept hold of my hand and spoke to me of how he had lost his family too and how he knew of a good home for us. And he'd get us there, and how, no matter what, we would always have each other. I clung to him and refused to let go. Even when we arrived on Mara and Carmag's doorstep, it took weeks before I would leave his side.”

“You truly are brothers,” Tara said.

“That we are,” Reeve agreed, and took her in his arms. “Where have you been?”

“Looking for you.” She held up her arm, a basket hanging from it. “Your mother sent me to bring this to Kate.”

“I just saw mum, and she told me that she hadn't seen you since breakfast.”

“She hadn't until a few moments ago. And as soon as she told me that you had just been there, she shoved this basket at me and told me to catch up with you, that you would take me to Kate's.”

“I best obey mum,” Reeve said teasingly. “You can easily miss Kate and Bailey's place. It's tucked behind newly wedded Cowan and Annie's place.”

Tara shook her head. “Too many names and places to remember. I'm lucky my cottage is close to the keep.”

Reeve grinned. “And glad I am of that, for I can visit often.”

“As often as you like,” she said.

“Be careful, I may never leave.”

He noticed that she hesitated a moment and then, lowering her head, she whispered as if sharing a secret, “I wouldn't mind that.”

Reeve didn't respond, though her remark had gladdened his heart.

Kate's pleasant smile, pretty face and lively nature welcomed them, and soon Tara and she were talking as if they were old friends.

Reeve stood waiting with more patience than he knew he had as the women chattered, Kate's husband Bailey out with the hunting party for the day. He hadn't realized that Kate was due to deliver any day, and he was pleased when Tara offered Kate whatever help she needed. He hoped that she was finally realizing that there was no curse on her and that life could be good if she would only stop worrying about the curse. If truth be known, it was more that words did damage to people than curses. Once someone set something in a person's head, there was no getting it out. It took solid root and grew, being nourished by wagging tongues that had nothing better to do.

“Thank Mara for me,” Kate said as she saw them out.

They walked arm in arm, the snow falling heavier than only moments ago. Reeve directed them toward Tara's cottage. He wanted some time alone with her. He'd been aching to kiss her, truly kiss her, since she had come up alongside him. And he wouldn't mind more than kisses, perhaps a touch or two.

Damn, who was he kidding?

He wanted to couple with her, and that was all there was to it. He had had his share of women, some more exciting than others, but Tara was different. His attraction to her overwhelmed and consumed him.

He wanted to be with her, kiss her, touch her, talk with her, or simply hold her hand as he did now. And that wasn't something he had ever experienced. He had never wanted to hold on, truly hold on, to a woman's hand, and now with Tara, he never wanted to let go.

She stopped at her door and stepped in front, facing him. “You know if we enter, we will be kissing before the door closes.”

“Let's hurry,” he teased.

“This is serious,” she scolded, though with a smile.

He slipped his hands past her cloak and settled them on her waist. “I take kissing you very seriously.” He eased her closer to the door as he took a quick taste of her lips. As soon as he did, he knew that was it. He wanted more.

She rested her hand to his chest. “We should—”

“Make up for the three days I've been gone when I should have been kissing you.”

“That is—”

“Lots of kisses,” he said, and connected with her lips again as his hand slipped from around her cloak to locate the door latch.

It clicked as her arms went around his neck. He had them inside and the door closed posthaste and they stood just beyond the door lost in a kiss.

Reeve wondered why each time he kissed her, she tasted more delicious. She had suddenly become nectar he couldn't do without. He slipped off her cloak, letting it fall to the floor, and his followed. His hand went to her backside and urged her closer against him, not a wise move, since he swelled thick and hard with passion.

She startled for a moment and then settled nicely against him, a perfect fit.

He ended the kiss with nibbles along her bottom lip, eager to taste the slim column of her neck and once again explore her bosoms. He loved her bosoms, so plump, soft, and delectable, and all his.

He warned himself to slow down, take his time, but he had missed her so much when he was away that he simply wanted to get lost in her.

The thought startled him, and he knew if he didn't slow down now, he wouldn't. He would have her in bed in no time, and they wouldn't be sleeping, not one wink all night.

He eased away from her and took a step back.

Her breathing was labored, her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes overflowing with passion. And damn if he didn't want to grab her and make love to her.

“We should go to the keep,” she said, as if trying to convince them both.

“I don't want to,” he said truthfully.

“Neither do I,” she admitted, “but it is too soon for us to—”

“Make love?”

“Will that be what we're doing?”

He rubbed at his chin and walked around the table to distance himself from her, not trusting that his hands wouldn't reach out and do more than take hold of her. “I don't know.”

“How could either of us know? We've only met.”

“You have been wed how many times?” he asked.

“Once, though another died on our wedding day before vows were exchanged.”

“Did you love either man?”

She nodded. “I loved Rory, the one I never got to wed.”

“Did you feel for him when he kissed you what you feel for me when I kiss you?”

She stared at him a moment, and he pondered the wisdom of his question. Did he truly want to know if she favored another man's kiss over his?

“Rory stirred me with kisses,” she said softly, and her lavender-colored eyes deepened to a rich purple. “You consume me with yours.”

He smiled, pleased, though he had to know more. “Did your body fit as well with him as it does with me?”

Again, she paused, and again, he worried over the answer.

“We fit well enough.”

“That's not what I asked,” he said. “Did you fit as well with him as you do with me?”

This time she didn't pause or hesitate. “I thought so at the time.”

“And now?”

“Now I see that you and I fit as two parts that make a whole.”

“Perfectly put,” he said, glad that she felt as he did.

“When did you know you loved Rory?”

“When I first saw him,” she said with a sad smile.

“You needed no time to be sure?”

“None. I knew there and then he was the man I wanted as my husband.”

He suddenly felt a swell of envy for the dead man. “And what did you think when you first met me.”

“I knew you were the man who would save me.”

He was pleased with her answer and told himself to stop there. But he couldn't. He had to know.

“Do you miss him making love to you?”

Tara closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them, tears lingered at the edges. “We never got to consummate our vows. Rory took a tumble before our wedding vows could be exchanged. He hit his head and died instantly.”

“How horrible for you,” he said. “I can't imagine the pain you must have suffered.”

“My father gave me a little time to mourn and made arrangements for me to wed six months later.”

“You didn't love this man?”

“I didn't know him,” she said. “I met him on our wedding day. I did not find him appealing.”

“Then consummating your vows must have been difficult.”

“We never got the chance,” Tara said. “When our vows were spoken, he turned to me, smiled, and collapsed dead at my feet.”

“Good Lord, Tara, how terrible.”

“More than you know,” she admitted.

He scrunched his brow and rubbed his chin. “You have never been with a man?”

Tara threw her hands up in the air. “I tell you that the curse killed both men, and all you think about is that I've never coupled?”

“You haven't?” He smiled; he couldn't help it.

“What does that matter when I killed a man I loved and a husband. Do you truly want to take a chance and be number three?”

“No, I will be number one, the first and only man who makes love to you.”

“I can't say that I don't want to make love with you,” she said, reasoning that it was best to be honest with him in hopes that he would understand. “I find myself desiring you most all the time, but I fear if I surrender to my passion, that it may cause you to surrender your life.”

“You desire me all the time?”

“Don't you hear what I'm saying?” she demanded.

“I heard everything you have said. Now hear me,” he said adamantly. “Your curse will not hurt me and cannot hurt me. Not now, not ever. Besides, Rory suffered an unfortunate accident. Terrible as it was, things like that do happen. Your husband died like many I have seen, talking and laughing one moment, dead the next. It is the way of life. Death claims those it will, not a curse.”

Tara shook her head. “You are a stubborn fool.

“No.” He grinned. “I'm always right.”

He was glad to see her smile, glad he could make her smile, and he wanted to keep making her smile.

“We agreed to take this slow,” she reminded, her smile remaining.

“No, we agreed that probably would be difficult.”

“But we'll try,” she urged.

“I suppose we could,” he said, walking around the table and reaching out for her.

She skirted away from him. “We need to.”

“There's something I need,” he said, inching closer.

She inched away. “What?”

“Another kiss.” He stepped closer.

She moved around the table. “That might not be a good idea.”

“Why?” he asked, continuing to follow her.

“Because I want more,” she admitted in a lusty whisper.

He moved so fast that she yelped and jumped as he grabbed her and wrapped her in his arms. He held her tight and kissed her quick. “I can give you more.”

“I know,” she whispered. “That's what I'm afraid of.”

He whispered close to her mouth before he claimed a kiss. “There's nothing to fear.”

Again they feasted like two starved lovers, their hands at each other's garments and their passions ruling.

The loud toll of a bell sounded like a mighty roar of thunder, stunning them and splitting them apart so fast that it was as if a mighty hand had reached down from the heavens and ripped them away from each other.

“What is it?” Tara asked.

“We must go to the keep,” he instructed, grabbing her cloak then his off the floor.

“Are we under attack?”

“No, the bell would still be tolling,” Reeve explained. “One toll is a warning that an unexpected troop approaches the village.”