Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles) (13 page)

His self-assurance made her chuckle. “As ye will. I shall pray yer confidence is not misplaced.”

“Ach, ye have seen me in action, lass, do ye doubt me?”

“Nay,” she admitted, “I dinnae doubt ye. Fight well, Finn, and dinnae be harmed.”

“Ye have my word, my lady.” With another dip, he left her but not before offering her a wink that made heat climb her chest.

Shaking her head at the confusing man, Catriona continued her stroll around the castle. The day was dry and sunny but it had rained overnight, leaving the ground muddy underfoot.

She followed the wall around the keep, tracing along the rough stone. Still no word from her father. How much longer would she have to wait? Many more days and Laird Gillean would have her as his wife. She shuddered. While she knew little of him, greed clearly drove him. A man who threatened war to gain a bride and wealth could not be a good one. While Katelyn might have been content to be used so, she could not bring herself to be. Mayhap Katelyn would have been happy in such a marriage, had her father even planned to go through with it. It was a stalling tactic, nothing more. As soon as he gained support from the king, the marriage contract would mean nothing. But still, Katelyn might have found happiness with someone as greedy and as driven as she.

Catriona had only ever wanted a man who cared for her. Not her wealth or her family name. Nor for her looks. But no man had ever revealed himself to be anything but driven by hunger. For beauty or wealth.

Aside from perhaps Finn. As much as she wanted to ignore it, she had a need of her own for that man. He proved vastly different to anyone she had ever encountered. Aye, he looked at her as if he might pounce upon her and bring her wild pleasure beyond her imaginings but he also treated her with respect, as if he valued her words and ideas.

Another yawn fought its way out and dread made her stomach cramp. She began to fear the evenings when she would be trapped in her chambers with only her thoughts. Why could she not focus on anything but the horrors of the siege? She fisted a hand. Her mother had taught her to make the best of each situation. Where was her dignity when the dreams made her fling herself about her room? Or when the thoughts became too much and crowded her mind, forcing her to run away?

She paused as a sound sent a shiver through her. The clanging of swords. Catriona was back in the cold passageway, pressed against the sharp stone, her heart beating in her ears as the Viking approached.  She continued around the castle toward the sound and shook away the memory. Shoulders straight, she drew her chin up. She
would
conquer her fears.

The noise came from Finn and another man, duelling with swords. The use of real blades made her frown. Her hand went to her mouth when the blade of his opponent swiped so very close to Finn’s arm. So dangerous.

But she was also fascinated. He moved well—gracefully. She’d witnessed him fighting before but had been too consumed by fear to truly watch. A lot of men’s movements were usually powered by aggression but with Finn it was different. Each move appeared carefully considered and planned. Emotion did not rule his actions. She sighed. If only she could be the same.

He took down his opponent easily and the man offered up his palms in surrender with a grin. Another man stepped forward and so began another fight. Finn battled harder this time as his dark haired enemy was large. It did not surprise Katelyn when he forced the man’s sword out of his hand and urged him to his knees with a quick grin.

When Finn brought his blade to the man’s neck, it happened. Her throat grew tight and clogged. Dots danced in front of her vision. She meant to turn away but her head swam and she tried to suck in breaths while scrabbling for a hold on something. Heart beating rapidly, she pressed a hand to her chest and rubbed at it in a bid to draw in some air but it was useless. Darkness crowded her mind and the world tilted away.

Footsteps and voices echoed in her ears and something pressed underneath her. She struggled to open her eyes and draw breath but panic still gripped her, forcing her to curl up. And then she was floating, cradled by two strong arms. It should have made the sensations worse but somehow the warmth of those arms eased the constriction in her throat and she sucked in several ragged breaths.

Still weak and fighting the images in her mind, Catriona kept her eyes shut. She vaguely heard Lorna’s voice and then footsteps on wood. They were carrying her to her chambers, she realised. Soft blankets swallowed her as she was laid down, their herby fragrance comforting. She longed to stay locked in the dark abyss. Safe from life and the demons that shadowed her every step.

***

Finn jerked awake, heart pounding unnaturally. He scowled, lay there for a moment and stared at the fabric canopy above him. He strained to listen. What had woken him? He rubbed his arm. It tingled and he was sure something had jabbed him.

An odd sound stopped his eyelids from falling closed again and he sat. Was that crying? Screaming? It was faint but it certainly sounded like a woman. Climbing from the bed, he grabbed the shirt he’d flung carelessly over the chair in the corner and left the laces loose. Night still reigned and only splinters of silvered moonlight seeped in through the shutters to guide his way.

Nearly stubbing his toe on the end of the bed, he hastened to the door and tossed it open. The torches were still lit and the one outside his chamber stuttered with the sudden gust. He paused in the doorway. Aye, a woman to be sure. And the tightness in his chest told him he knew which woman it was.

Katelyn.

He strode along the corridor that linked the chambers. The sound increased and even though he told himself she couldn’t be in danger, the tension in his gut amplified.

Ready for anything, he eased open Katelyn’s door. It squeaked on its hinges and he grimaced. But no one attacked him. Indeed, the only person in the room was Katelyn. Lying on her side, the torchlight from the corridor revealed the long length of her thigh and her magnificent hair cascading down her back, clearly having come free from a braid. His racing heart slowed as he studied her. The blankets were entirely gone, kicked off onto the floor. She hadn’t bothered drawing the curtains around the bed. The weather had not been cold enough for that.

So Finn had a glorious view of that incredible figure encased in a whisper of a chemise.

Before his body responded to the sight, she tossed suddenly, a whimper coming from her lips. Finn stiffened as her anguished expression became apparent. She did it again, moving quickly and frantically, and her whimpers turned to cries. He watched, took a step forward and paused. Should he wake her? Would she be embarrassed to find him in her chamber?

She made the decision for him when she nearly flung herself off the bed. If he didn’t act, she would surely harm herself. Quickly coming to her side, he caught her when she rolled again and urged her gently onto the bed with him. Sweat clung to her brow and it dampened his shirt as he bundled her into his arms and pressed her hard against him. Katelyn fought him but the noises quietened to a soft sob. The sound pierced him, like a knife wound. He’d seen this before, especially in men who had witnessed battle for the first time but he didn’t know women could suffer the same.

When she ceased fighting him, her breathing slowed but still she cried. He stroked her cheek, felt dampness there and softly urged her to awaken. Katelyn tensed abruptly and he knew she was finally awake. But she couldn’t stop crying.

Ach, powerless yet again.

Finn raised her face to his. The golden glow of the torches still crept in through the open door so he saw the pain in her eyes. Katelyn didn’t look away or bury herself against his chest as he thought she might do. It appeared as though she was incapable. She sobbed openly, uncontrollably and he had to watch every heart-breaking moment of it.

Unable to bear her pain any longer and refusing to question why that hurt anguished him so much, he did the only thing he could think of to soothe away her tears.

He kissed her.

She tasted salty and wet at first. And she still wept but the sound quietened, giving way to slow, heavy breaths. Katelyn opened her mouth to him while he cradled her head, a hand speared into her hair, the other stroking away the tears on her cheek.

He groaned as the tang of salt was replaced with the flavour of Katelyn. Her tongue tentatively met his and his body instantly inflamed, became tight with need. He hadn’t realised she would taste so good. One sample would never be enough now. He pressed deeper and relished her sharp intake of breath. That sweet, supple body grew pliant and aligned with his. Awareness of how big and strong he was seeped in. Something about Katelyn brought out his need to protect.

Removing his hand from her cheek, he trailed his fingers down her side, the heat of her skin almost scalding him. The soft swell of a breast, the indent of her waist, the line of a hip that begged to be grabbed. He needed to claim and defend this vulnerable woman so badly.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled he’d merely intended to comfort. This was not about him. That didn’t mean he could stop though. Not yet. He tilted his head to press the kiss deeper and gave in to the urge to grab her hip. His fingers pressed into the yielding flesh of her rear and he kept her close, the warmth their embrace created sending wild sensations bolting through him. Desire and possessiveness controlled his movements. Having Katelyn in his arms threatened to overcome every belief he’d carefully instilled in himself throughout the years.

A tiny whimper broke the moment. Though she didn’t seem ready to end the kiss —the nails digging into his shoulder led him to believe she was enjoying it as much as he—the reason he’d kissed her came flooding back. Gently, carefully, he slowed the kiss, touching her tongue once more and silently wishing he could repeat the experience. Then he broke away but kept her in his hold. Katelyn accepted his comfort easily and burrowed against his chest. Her arms snaked around his waist and his heart swelled at the trust this lass put in him. She barely knew him yet she was willingly sharing her grief with him. It seemed the exquisite Katelyn was stronger than she appeared.

After many torturous moments of having her flattened against him, he spoke. “Are ye well, lass?”

She nodded against his torso.

“Ye suffer with dreams,” he stated gently.

“Aye,” she whispered.

“What do ye see? Can ye tell me?”

He heard her gulp and her body stiffened so he stroked up and down her back until she relaxed again.

“Blood…” Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear her. “So much blood. The Viking...”

“Ye mean when ye were attacked…”

 “Aye.”

“How long have ye been having these dreams?”

“Ever since we arrived at Kilcree,” she replied quietly. “’Twas why I swooned yesterday.”

He nodded. That explained much. Her sudden fragility, her strange moods and that fainting fit. It relieved him that it was at least not some illness. She had spent the rest of the day abed and insisted she needed no healer.

“I am consumed by demons.” Her voice hitched.

“Nay.” He tugged her back and forced her face up to his with a finger under her chin. “Nay, not by demons. Dinnae ever say such a thing again. I have seen grown men, bigger and stronger than I, taken by the same thing. They cry and whimper like bairns. Ye are stronger even than them, Katie. Any fool can see that. How many would admit to such fears and dreams? None, I’d wager.”

She dropped her gaze but he kept the finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him again. His words were seeping in, he was sure, but would they have any effect?

“I am sorry ye saw me like that.”

Finn shook his head. “Dinnae be sorry, I am glad.”

“Why did ye come?”

“I heard ye.”

“Ye could have left me.”

“Nay, I couldnae.” He secured her with a look and something inside squeezed at the sight of her spiked lashes and shimmering eyes.

Here was a woman so vulnerable and confused, and yet he still desired her more than anything. And if her kiss was anything to go by, she desired him too. But it meant little. While the kiss might have worked to calm her, it was a mistake. She stiffened, as if her thoughts had run the same route. He brushed a kiss across her head and sighed. Katelyn had a long way to go and an uncertain future ahead of her. And
he
would have little to do with it.

She slid out of his hold and arranged her shift around her. She probably didn’t realise that the laces on the front were loose and he spied the curve of one perfect breast as she shifted. Hands clasped tightly in front of her, she studied him with wide eyes. Even with the gilded glow of the torches, he saw the heat in her cheeks. Was she imagining similar things to him? Did she wonder how it might feel if their flesh connected? He climbed off the bed and straightened his shirt, aware of his bare legs beneath it.

“Forgive me for waking ye,” she murmured, quickly lowering her gaze.

“Dinnae apologise, lass. I’m glad ye did. Ye shouldnae keep these things to yerself. It doesnae do the mind any good, keeping yer fears locked away.”

Katelyn raised her head. “Do ye share yers?”

He tensed his jaw and laughed inwardly. Of course he did not. A highlander was not meant to be afraid. Instead of admitting as much, he grinned. “I have no fears, Katie.” The disappointment in her expression made him feel a fool so he spoke quickly to erase the look. “Will ye be all right now?”