The Highlander's Sin (23 page)

Still he remained.

Heather couldn’t risk being found by the Ross clan. With the stubborn warhorse planted in the middle of the road, her best bet would be to run.

She dismounted, much to the chagrin of the horse. “I asked ye to help me, ye wouldn’t, and if I climbed back in your saddle, ye’ll likely just keep on standing there. Best of luck to ye.”

And she was off, lifting her skirts as she ran up the hill to the right leading back into the woods and hiding behind a thick oak as the sound of an approaching rider rounded the bend in the road. The rider slowed, and a horse whinnied. She dared not move in case whoever had come upon them saw her, even just a glimmer of movement.

“Heather!” Duncan’s voice boomed through the forest, and her knees buckled, heart leaping to her throat.

She grasped onto the thick trunk for support and peered around the tree. He was looking right at her. She jerked her head back into hiding and cursed under her breath, praying he’d not actually seen her, as futile as it was.

“Come down from there. ’Tis not safe.”

“Ye’re the most dangerous thing around,” she called back.

“Likely not,” he said.

She’d take her chances. Heather turned and ran deeper into the forest, her feet crunching loudly over fallen branches and sliding on slick moss. Stealth was not one of her virtues. She stopped for a second, hopping on one foot to pull the blade from her boot. Lucky for her, she’d not had to use it as yet, saved it all this time for the man who’d stolen her virtue, her heart and then spat on them.

Behind her, Duncan called to her as he came crashing through the forest like a bear. A quick glance back, and she saw he was indeed crashing through the trees—on Blade.
Zounds!
The animal was likely to crush her, especially since she was going against his master. Well, she wasn’t going to let that happen.

Heather tried to pick up her pace, but she was no match for a warhorse bent on mowing her down. Seconds later
, she was lifted into the air and slammed down onto hardened thighs.

“Nay!” she cried, kicking and swatting, but Duncan was immune to her abuse.

He quickly gained the upper hand, his thick grip holding both of her wrists in one of his hands. He pinned her legs beneath one of his. Stuck, immobile, helpless. Her throat burned with the need to scream and call him every horrible name she could think of.

“Should have tied and gagged ye when I had the chance.”

Chapter Twenty

H
ow dare he?

“Let go of me
, ye slimy whoreson!”

“There’s the lass I know and
lo…” He trailed off.

And why shouldn’t he? She was well aware his love had been false.

“Enough games. I know ye betrayed me. I know ye’ll do so again. I should have known from the start that a priest with your wicked tendencies could never actually be good.”

Duncan had the nerve to look confused
, hurt at her words. He tightened his hold on her. Narrowing his brow, he frowned at her fiercely. “Silence those harsh words, princess.”

“I’ll not listen to your orders any longer. Ye’ve no claim on me.” Why did her words sound weak? She wriggled against him, though it seemed hopeless. He held her tight, and the warmth of his body, the sturdiness of it, drew her in, made her feel safe, even if he gave her no indication to feel that way.

With his free hand, he curled his fingers around the back of her neck and brought her face close to his. His scent surrounded her, intoxicating her with its heady masculine effect.

“No claim?” he growled. “Ye’re to be my
wife
. We made love last night. I’ve every claim.”

A shiver stole up her spine. Wife. His. His admission that he’d stolen her innocence made her lightheaded with internal pain. “I’ll never be yours.”

Anger darkened his gaze. Beneath her buttocks and on top of her thighs, she felt his muscles twitch. “Not the right answer.”

As best she could with arms held high, she straightened her back, attempted to square her shoulders, and set her jaw firmly.
“
Not
in all of eternity.”

Duncan grinned, but it wasn’t a happy expression. Nay, this was intense, angry. “Wrong. I’ve bedded ye already, voiced my wish to marry ye, and ye did the same. Ye’re as good as my wife in the eyes of God.”

Her breath caught at the truth he revealed. All the words her brothers would need to hear. They would believe her to be married. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t challenge Duncan all the same, make her a widow before nightfall. Despite her anger, her heartache, the thought of him lying dead, her brothers meting out the punishment, made her dread waking in the morning. She hated him, despised every breath he drew, and yet, she’d be torn to pieces if he were killed.

“By the end of this day, ye’ll wish ye’d never been born.” She glared daggers at him
through tears that shimmered. Dear Lord, why did she care so much? Why did she have to love the bastard?

He drew his face another inch closer.
“Och, lass, but ye see, I’ve already wished that for a lifetime,” he whispered. Pain laced his words and etched in the corners of his eyes. “Ye’ll have to do better than that.”

Her heart reached out to him, but her mind screamed for her to run away.
She wrenched in his embrace. Why wouldn’t he just let her go? Heather wasn’t certain she could handle what he was putting on her. To spend her life with him…it was the stuff of dreams. And to set aside everything else that mattered to her…for him. It was a lot to ask. And before he’d fed her to the wolves, she would have willingly given her life for him. Duncan had ruined that. Duncan had changed their future. Duncan was at fault. Not her.

“My brothers will kill for me.” Yet she prayed they’d stay their swords if she begged.

“A risk I’m willing to take.” He was deadly serious. The man was willing to risk his neck for her, even after she’d told him she wished he were dead? How deep did his feelings for her go? How much was he willing to risk in order to be with her? Why, in all of the world, had he betrayed her? Questions fired with screaming accuracy through her mind, but she was getting no answers within her head.

“Ye would risk your life for me?” Why did he play
such games? Confusion warred with anger and forgiveness.

“I proved I would when I jumped into the water to save ye. And again when I fought off Ross warriors. Again when I chased after ye. I’m here. Holding ye to me, making ye see that, aye, I would risk it all.”

Heather shook her head. “But ye led them there, to the inn. Ye told them to meet ye at noon.” Her voice had grown soft. He was saying all the right words, making her forget the pain and anger she hugged tight to her chest.

“Nay, lass. Ye’ve got it wrong. I did not lead them there.”

“But they
were
there. Ye canna deny it.”

“I canna deny they were there.” He let go of her hands and stared into his palms. “I canna deny it, nay.”

Rather than letting her hands fall to her lap, Heather placed a palm on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. Their eyes locked, and she wished that while staring into those dark pools, she didn’t see so many monsters waiting to tear their way out.

“Then stop lying to me,” she whispered. “Stop this charade ye’re playing. Let me go. Ina Ross will certainly give ye no coin now.” She hated the pleading in her voice, and with her next words, she sought any strength left inside her to bolster her. “I’ve already given ye much, Duncan. Dinna ask for my soul.”

His eyes darkened, mirroring her own feelings of betrayal. How could he look at her like that? How could he be the one suffering? “I’m not the devil nor a god. Your soul is yours to keep.”

A painful wrench squeezed inside her chest.
“Then dinna pretend anymore. Let me go.” Her hands fell to her lap.

Duncan intently searched her gaze.
“Tell me ye dinna love me.”

Why did he have to ask that of her? Her lies were easily read upon her face. If she told him she didn’t love him, he’d be able to see that. Even if he’d broken her heart, she couldn’t shove aside the strong emotions that took over every time she thought of him, much less was held in his arms.

Heather pressed her lips together, formed the words in her mind and then let them spill out, each word a jagged tear in her heart. “I dinna love ye, Priest.”

But Duncan smiled, the expression irritating in its cheerfulness. He’d seen through her. “I ought to give ye a penance for lying.”

She tossed her head, pretending to flick a strand of hair from her eyes, and looked around the forest, seeing nature in its prime beauty. But her words were ugly, disenchanting and cruel. “I dinna lie. I feel nothing for ye. I agreed to marry ye only to save your stupid monks and to keep myself out of the hands of evil.”

Duncan spread his hands wide, shifted his legs off her, causing her to look back at him, see the hope shining in his beautiful eyes. “Well, then, I suppose ’tis your lucky day, since I myself have two hands and an evil disposition.”

Heather frowned, biting the tip of her tongue to keep the next few choice words from echoing around them. Duncan had made a mistake—he’d let go of her.

Wrenching her arm back, she prepared to hit him the same way she had Ina Ross and then leap to freedom, but damn the man, he was quicker than that, catching her arm in midair. He squeezed and brought his face close to hers.

“Ye know, princess, at the same time I want to kiss ye, I want to wrap my hands around that pretty little neck and squeeze. No one’s ever made me feel the way ye do. Made me angry and filled with an intense need to have ye all at the same time. Made me wish I was anywhere else but with ye, only so I could tear apart the earth looking for ye. Ye know what I think?”

She tentatively shook her head, out of breath, his words having stolen all the air from her lungs and paralyzed her with fear and need.

“I think it must be true love,” he drawled.

A gasp escaped her lips.
“Ye’re mad!”

“Mad for ye, darling.” Duncan grinned, his eyes twinkling as though he’d discovered some deep, dark secret. Was it the truth that he’d only now realized how he felt for her? The true meaning of it?

Love soared through her, her heart reaching from inside her chest toward his, but she hunched her shoulders, trying to draw it back in without success.

“Nay.” She shook her head, totally denying everything he’d said. He couldn’t love her. Couldn’t make her tell him that she loved him so very much. “Nay,” she said again.
             

“Oh, aye, love. I didna realize it until that bastard Sassenach told me Ina waited for ye in the barn. Thinking that I’d sent ye to your death made me sick with fear. As mad as it may be, I canna think of living another day without ye. Not another second. Not an hour. To think I might never feel your lips on mine, or hear ye call me a bastard, is the stuff of nightmares. Hell, I’m giving up my entire purpose for living just to be with ye, princess.”

“Dinna call me that,” she croaked out. Every single word he’d said shattered the hard shell she’d been trying to keep around her heart since the moment Ina had muttered those vile words. “Ye were going to give me up. Ye canna speak of love, of wanting me, needing me, if ye were going to give me away.”

Duncan let go of her wrist and wrapped his arms around her. “Dinna ye see, lass? I didna give ye up. I was to meet Lady Ross at an inn miles from here.
But the bitch was being cautious. Must have known I would never be able to stay true to our arrangement once I’d laid eyes on ye.”

“I dinna believe in coincidence.”

“Nor I. The woman is demented. In her mind, she knew I’d fall for ye, and she planned to be here when I did.”

“Why?”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. “’Haps seeing your pain, your loss of love was a bit of revenge on her part. The woman thrives on others’ misery. One Sutherland’s pain was good enough. Just like myself. I was willing to kill any Sutherland to avenge my family. Revenge makes us mad, insane. I canna explain it more than that. It’s senseless, illogical. But I dinna care why she did it, only that ye got away.” He blinked slowly and swallowed. “I’d never have forgiven myself if ye’d not lived.”

Heather flicked her gaze to his lips and then back to his eyes. She wanted to kiss him. To let out all the pent-up frustration and fear that sat cold in her chest.

“I’m glad ye were not killed,” she said. “When I heard the shouts and fighting… I was certain they would cut ye down. I was so scared. Devastated.”

“It would take a lot more than a dozen lame warriors to take me down.”

“And Ina, when she told me ye’d betrayed me, I was heartbroken.”

“I’d never break your heart.”

She touched his cheek, rubbing her thumb gently back and forth. Escape. She needed to get away from what had just happened. Her pain and fright. “Kiss me.”

“Gladly.”

He tucked her against him as he lowered his mouth to hers. But the gentle brush of lips was not what Heather wanted. She wanted commanding, powerful. Their encounter with death demanded it. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she curled her fingers around the base of his skull and urged him forward. Duncan groaned, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth just as she opened hers to meet him. Passion ignited, spurred on by their desperate need to be with one another.

To think if things had gone differently at the inn, or he’d not happened to find her upon the road. That they’d not be here together and she may have gone to her grave thinking he’d betrayed her…it was unthinkable. Heather clung to Duncan, afraid of ever letting him go. She wanted to meld to him, make them one, and never let another soul tear them apart again. They hung on to e
ach other, whispering words of endearment from the heart and need as they kissed and stroked, as if forever burning this moment in each other’s minds.

“God, love, I need ye now.
” Duncan tore his mouth from hers, dragging his lips over the line of her jawbone down to her neck. “Desperately.”

“Oh, aye
,” she said, delirious with passion.

“Right here
…”

Her eyes popped open.
“On the horse?”

“Aye, he w
ill not mind,” Duncan crooned.

Heat filled Heather’s face. Riding a horse would never be the same again. Every rock of its gait would bring her back to this moment, a moment she would not mind living repeatedly.

“Aye, now,” she answered.

Duncan pushed his robes open and tossed up his plaid, revealing the heavy length of his shaft, already reaching toward her. Heather stared down at it, knowing what pleasure it would bring her. Not having touched it before, she
needed to now, needed to feel his solid length in her hands. She stroked over his length, feeling the velvety, hard skin against her palm and fingertips.