The Highlander's Warrior Bride (10 page)

Ronan appeared to have set his sights on heading west once more. Thank goodness. She didn’t want to lose the ground she’d already made on Ross. Although they’d gone northward, at least they were still headed in the right direction. Having Ronan come along with her, although not her original intent, was starting to grow on her. He
knew the area better. And, honestly, having him to assist should a fight break out wasn’t a bad idea. He had, after all, come to her aid once before.

The man was probably also trying to impress Robert. Wanted to move up in the ranks. She could help him with that.

“We need to find shelter,” she said, riding beside him.

Ronan nodded, but didn’t look her way. “Aye. There is a place ahead.”

“Ye’re not thinking of that small village are ye?” Kinterloch was no place for them to hide.

Ronan did flash her a grin then, his gaze stroking her face for a split-second before turning back to th
e horizon with a frown. The man was so confusing.

“I’m nay an imb
ecile, my lady.” His voice came out scathing.

Julianna’s mouth fell open. “I never said such a thing.”

“There are other ideas besides your own.”

“I am well aware of that and perfectly willing to explore them, if I but knew what they were.”

“Ye see? Ye canna allow me to lead the way after all.”

Julianna huffed a breath. Mayhap the man was
indeed an imbecile. Hadn’t she let him do just that?

“I told ye, I have the same goal as ye. I want Ross dead. I want my revenge on him. And then I need to take ye back to the castle. Do ye think I’d sabotage that?”

Shaking her head, she held in an unladylike retort and instead said, “Apologies, Ronan. I did not mean to offend ye. I was merely hoping we were not going into the village because I believe Ross is seeking shelter there.”

Ronan frowned at her then turned back to the road. “We are nay headed into the village. But there are a few abandoned crofts on the outskirts.”

“All right.”

He glanced at her a moment longer, but said nothing. They rode the rest of the way in silence. There was a cluster of three crofts closely built together, not a soul in sight. Even still, Ronan took his sword from its sheath and jumped from his horse.

“Will ye hold the reins while I check inside?”

Julianna no
dded and withdrew her own sword, in case those who’d followed found them—or others lurked in the shadows. Within minutes of sitting still, the cold seeped deep within her bones and she shivered violently, teeth chattering. The sword grew heavy and hard to hold.

Ronan returned, eyeing her with concern. “Ye’re freezing. Let us get inside and build a fire. They are still abandoned.”

Julianna tried to climb down from Brave’s back, but ended up falling instead. Her limbs just wouldn’t work right. Ronan caught her in mid-air, his heat seeping both painfully and deliciously into her bones. “We need to get ye warm,” he muttered and carried her the rest of the way inside, leading the horses behind him.

Julianna clutched to Ronan’s cloak, willing herself to regain strength, but it appeared that even her stubborn will was failing in this respect.

Ronan yanked a dry plaid from his satchel and laid it on the ground. He set her on her feet, and her knees knocked together. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing furiously. Never had she been so cold. Had to be the ice rain. Normally, she sought shelter right away, she wasn’t usually running away from fiends.

Ronan eyed her with a narrowed gaze.
“Take off your clothes.”

Julianna gasped
, clutched her soaking wet cloak tighter to her chest. “Wh-what?”

“We need to get ye warm.”

Very practical indeed, but completely out of the question. “Taking off my clothes willna do it.”

“Aye, but getting ye out of the wet and into dry will. Do it now.” His voice was stern. There would be no arguing with him.

“Turn your back at least,” she sputtered.

Ronan rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, but did turn around. Julianna struggled with the heavy, wet fabric. It felt like an eternity went by and every few minutes she swore he
would turn around to see if she was done, but he didn’t. In fact, he was a perfect gentleman. With her clothes in a puddled heap at her feet, Julianna ripped the tossed plaid off the floor and wrapped it around herself.

She was still cold, although being dry eased her chill a little.
Her icicle hair even started to melt a little.

“Ye can turn around,” she said through chattering teeth.

Ronan did so, and had the decency not to look at her. His gaze was at the ceiling, then on the floor and then flicking around the room as he tried to gaze anywhere but at her. Julianna bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

“Can we build a fire?” Julianna prayed he’d say yes.

“Aye. I’ll get the wood.”

Ronan whirled around and sped from the croft as though a demon chased him.

Chapter
Ten

G
od’s teeth!

This was most assuredly a test. A test of his willpower, a test of his fortitude. Control. Ballocks, he needed to gain control!

Ronan raked his hands through his hair, flicking water this way and that. He was wet and should be cold, but instead his blood was hotter than a blaze. All because she’d undressed. Not even within his vision, but the idea of her taking her clothes off only feet away had nearly been the death of him.

Sweet Jesu, the woman was naked.

If he wanted to, he could sweet talk her out of his plaid, watch the fabric pool at her feet and then truly see, touch and taste her flesh. Oh, how he desired to do so. And it would be easy. She melted in his arms each time he’d kissed her. If he was good, and he knew he was, she’d be naked and beneath him in the next five minutes.

But he couldn’t do that for many reasons. One, she’d most likely kill him after
ward. Two, the Bruce would kill him if she didn’t, and three… He just couldn’t. Seducing her was wrong in so many ways, and the fact that he cared about the morality of the situation bespoke much. Was he growing soft? Ronan was a self-professed ladies’ man. Charmed them into bed faster than a swarm of bees on a sweet smelling flower.

Ronan gritted his teeth. He couldn’t be that way with Julianna. She wasn’t a light skirt and she wasn’t a woman willing to spread her legs for any man. The woman was most likely a virgin and should remain that way until the day she married.

And hell if he was going to be the man to marry her. Nay, that was certainly not going to happen. Ronan would never marry. Whatever lust he felt for Julianna had to end now. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and let the cold rain pelt on his face for a few moments, wishing it would clear his brain. Give him the miracle cure of no longer desiring Julianna and wishing to uncover her mysteries.

It didn’t work.

“Och! Damn!” He stormed around the outside of the crofts, trying to find some wood he could use to build a fire. Most of the wood outside was wet, but he managed to find a few logs nestled beneath the pines that weren’t completely soaked yet. He also found a few left inside the crofts no one had bothered to steal. With the prized wood huddled beneath his cloak he marched back to the croft he’d chosen for them to sleep in. The most kept together one. No leaky roof and a front door that hadn’t been ripped off.

He’d kept the reason he knew of this place to himself. Julianna need not know that Ronan had come upon the place when he first traveled to Eilean Donan. She need not know that he’d witnessed the carnage that took place before his arrival. There were thirteen graves in a secluded spot behind these crofts. Men, women, children. He’d buried them all. Too late to save any of them.

Except one.

A
wee lad. The poor boy was not more than six or seven, and without a family to look after him he would have died had Ronan left him behind. He took the boy with him to the Bruce’s camp and put him in the kitchens to work. He didn’t think anyone was aware what happened to little Tad, that Ronan had found him. He didn’t want the boy to be pestered about it. Would make him sad or scared. Ronan had been that young when his own parents were murdered.

Everyone walked around giving him pity-filled faces like he was the saddest creature on earth. Ronan had hated it. Hated to see the pity in their eyes.
Like he might perish because his parents had. If anything, their death made him stronger. Made him into the man he was today. A fighter. A warrior.

Ronan burst through the door of the cabin, frightening Julianna enough that she jumped and the plaid she’d wrapped herself in slipped a little off her shoulder.

He hissed in a breath at the sight of that tiny bit of flesh. Rounded with muscle, smooth and silky looking. She’d laid her clothes out flat to dry on the large square dining table. He tore his gaze away and turned toward the small hearth built in the far corner. A good eight feet away from her. ’Twas as far away as he was likely to get from her in such a small space.

Dumping the wood, he searched the room for a flint, but could find none. Luckily, he’d brought one. But it meant he had to step closer. The woman’s toes peeped out beneath the plaid just a foot away from his satchel.

Long, slim toes, just as regal as the air she gave off but frighteningly white, reminding him of how cold she was.

“Toss me the satchel,” he asked, finding that would be easier than having to step near her.

But, he hadn’t exactly thought that through. As she dipped, now clutching the plaid with only one hand as a naked arm slipped out to grasp the leather strap of his bag, all sorts of lusty thoughts ran rampant in his mind. One false move and the plaid would be on the ground. Or slip and show more skin than just her arm.

His breaths quickened,
heart beat erratically. He let out the breath he’d been holding when she tossed it at him. Barely enough time to react, he reached out before it hit him square in the face.

“Stop staring, ye brute.” Julianna frowned, her brows furrowing together and daggers flying from her eyes.
Her teeth chattering only served to lessen the rebuke. Showed that she was human rather than the goddess he believed her to be.

Her response was a good reminder to his libido that he needed to
take a step back from her and this situation. They would never be together. That naked shoulder and those nude toes were as much of her flesh as he’d ever see.

Ronan nodded. “Apologies.”

Julianna grunted. “None needed. I’d be offended if ye hadn’t.”

Ronan raised a brow. “Aye?”

“Aye.”

He wanted to ask her why, but that conversation would only lead down a path he wasn’t willing to take.
Instead, he turned his back, carrying his satchel over to the hearth. Kneeling, he arranged the wood just so and then struck the flint. The wood smoked, too soggy to burn. Damn. But he wasn’t going to give up.

Ronan stood and searched the croft once more, trying his best to ignore the minx dressed only in his plaid. Julianna did her best to stay out of his way too. She sat on the floor, her knees pulled up, the plaid covering every inch of her
, save her head. Aye, he wasn’t trying to look at her, but it was a little harder than simply pretending she wasn’t there.

“While ye were out getting the wood I noticed some linens in that cupboard.”

“Linens?” Did she wish him to bathe? That was absurd. He needed to get her warm.

“Aye. They will burn. Help catch the wood on fire.”

“Ah,” he sighed. “That may work.” Ronan pulled open the cupboard and grabbed out the stack of old linens. He refused to think about the people that used it. Refused to imagine a time where little Tad’s mother might have rubbed one on his head after washing his hair. He ripped the linens into strips and stuffed them in between and under the wood. After, he lit each linen with the flint, watching the fabric catch and burn, turning red then black. Flames erupted, and the wood smoked, but eventually dried out and started to smolder. It worked.

“Come closer to the fire,” Ronan demanded. His voice came out harsher than he intended, but he needed it to. Needed to not sound like he cared, else she
’d get the impression that he did.

A whisper of fabric was her answer. Moments later she was beside him, sinking to the ground.
Her scent surrounded him. Subtly different with the rain, still wholly intoxicating.

Ronan glanced at her, unable to abide his own decision to ignore her. Her plush lips were blue around the edges and still her teeth chattered. Skin was deathly pale.

“This should help to warm ye.”

She nodded
, her gaze at the fire.

Ronan search
ed within his bag until he found a flask of Cook’s spiced whisky.

“
This should warm ye, too.”

“Is that what I hope it is?” She gifted him with a charming smile.

A smile that made his breath catch. Ronan gritted his teeth.

“What are ye hoping for?”

“Cook’s whisky,” she answered.

Why did he wish she’d asked for something else? Perhaps maybe for him to hold her and rub some warmth into her flesh? Ballocks, he was at it again.

“Aye, that it is.” He uncorked the flask and handed it to her.

Their fingers brushed
sending a spark of lust to tingle through his veins. Ronan jerked back as though burned. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She put her lips daintily to the flask, tilted her head back and swallowed. The way her throat worked as she drank had him imagining her throat doing other things. Wicked deeds. Acts that could
not
happen between them.

“Mmm,” she moaned, handing him back the flask as she wiped the back of her hand over her lips. “That was lovely. I’ve been wanting some of her
whisky since I was in Ross’ camp.”

“
I’m happy to oblige. Let me know if ye want some more.”

“’Haps in a few minutes.”

“What happened there?”

Julianna pursed her lips.
“Where?”

Ronan took a sip of the
whisky, enjoying the burn in the back of his throat. “Ye know what I mean.” They’d not discussed her imprisonment before, hadn’t had the time, but now, here in the croft, all they had was time. And he meant to fill it up any other way than by kissing and touching.

“Aye.
I knew what ye meant.”

He was surprised she admitted it. Not surprised she didn’t indulge him further.

“That lovely a time, lass?”

Julianna gave a short laugh. “Incredible.”

“Ye jest, but I spoke in earnest.”

“I know.” She smiled and reached out a delicate hand—one that showed the length of her bare arm.

He stared at her limb, noting the elegant curve of muscles almost a contradiction to her delicate bone structure. The woman worked hard, that much was evident. More than just kneading dough. Ronan handed her the flask, avoiding her touch this time.

After taking a sip, Julianna
flicked her gaze to the fire, her eyes clouding. “They were horrid. Barbaric.” She huddled deeper into the plaid. “I was dying. They deprived me of food and drink. What they provided was not even good enough for a hound.”

At that Lil
Lass curled up beside Julianna. The massive dog was bigger than her, by a few stone or more. “Think she has fleas?” she asked with a little laugh, reaching out to stroke along the dog’s back.

“Most likely.”

“I dinna see anything jumping around. Nothing eager to nibble at my fingertips.”

Not true. He was completely eager to nibble on her fingertips and any other part she wanted.
“They lie in wait.”

She smiled, her gaze meeting his for a moment, and he was struck with the power behind them. There was much more to Julianna than what met the eye.
A thought he’d had more times than he could count.

“Dinna all beasts lie in wait until the moment ye turn your back on them?”
Her words were deeper than what they meant on the surface.

“Indeed
they do.”

“Unless ye willingly allow them.”

“Aye.” What did she mean? Was she referring to fleas? To Ross? To himself?

“I’ll not take advantage of ye, my lady.”

Julianna’s eyes widened in surprise before she shuttered them. “The thought never crossed my mind, Ronan.”

He hoped that was because she would have willingly allowed him. With the heat of the fire and the
whisky she’d consumed, Julianna’s lips had turned back to a luscious shade of pink. He almost wished they were still blue, because now he could think of nothing more than kissing her again.

Food. They must eat. That would distract him—or at the very least keep his mouth busy. Ronan rummaged through his satchel and withdrew a few oatcakes, two legs of fowl he’d pilfered from Cook after the eve meal and an apple.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to share the apple, but there is plenty of the rest.” Ronan handed her an oatcake and the meat.

“I dinna like apples.”
Julianna took the offered fare and greedily bit into the meat. He watched, somewhat mesmerized, as she devoured the food.