Read The Highlander's Warrior Bride Online

Authors: Eliza Knight

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Medieval, #Scottish, #Historical Fiction, #Historical Romance

The Highlander's Warrior Bride (9 page)

BOOK: The Highlander's Warrior Bride
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Not yet. He wanted a chance, wanted to see if this was everything it was built up to be in his mind, desired to see her response, to know once and for all if the passion growing between them, if the crackling air thick with need was real.

Ronan deepened the kiss, tasting her plump lips, teasing the crease of her mouth. He massaged her scalp with one hand and gripped tight to her waist with the other. He never wanted to let her go.

Damn…
but he had to stop.

And then she responded.

A sweet, contagious mewl in the back of her throat. He answered with a growl of his own. Julianna opened her mouth, her tongue darting out to swipe at his before timidly retreating. He chased, stroking her tongue, teasing her, tracing every part of her mouth. She tasted sweet, succulent, a meal he could survive on for eternity.

The pressure of Julianna’s hands on his chest lessoned from pushing to massaging as she felt the outline of his muscles. He tensed, never having reacted to a woman’s touch the way he did with her. Desire curled deep inside him, ready to spring out with the slightest provocation.

“Julianna,” he murmured against her lips, loving the feel and taste of her.

She whimpered, circling her tongue around his, her hands moving from his chest to his shoulders where she dug deep. He slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Her breasts crushed to his chest. So soft compared to the coiled tautness of her body. Softness mixed in with her muscle. Her nipples were hard, damned hard. Had to be or else he wouldn’t have been able to feel those two taut points through the layers or their clothing.

He had his answer. She wanted him. More so, kissing her, feeling her breasts on him, he was once again struck with the sense of familiarity. As though this had happened before.

“Ronan,” she whispered. “I swore this wouldn’t happen again.” Her fingers scraped lightly over his neck and into his hair.

What? He pulled back. “Again?”

In the moonlight he could see the dazed expression on her face, to which a part of him felt very satisfied for being t
he cause. The lucid part of him, however, was stuck on the word
again
.

Julianna nodded, looking a little confused. “Aye. When ye had a fever.”

“Ah.” That answered a lot of questions. “So ye took advantage of an invalid.” He wiggled his brows. “What else did ye take advantage of?”

Gasping, she slapped playfully at his chest. “Ye are a brute. I didna take advantage of ye. ’Twas the other way around.”

“How can a man in the throes of fever take advantage of a lass? Especially a lass as strong as ye?” He prodded the muscles of her upper arm. “I daresay ye had the advantage.”

Julianna yanked from his grasp
, a flash of insecurity coming over her. Was it possible she was ashamed her of physique?

That was an issue he would happily remedy. “Why did ye pull away? I like your strength.” He stroked gently over her arms, wishing they were in a warm place and that it would have been all right to peel away the layers of her clothing and examine her further.

That, however, would be completely inappropriate. Kissing her was one thing, undressing her and plundering her tight little body was something wholly different. And likely to get him a knife in the throat by her and another from the Bruce.

With that sobering thought in mind he leaned back a little. Julianna’s face turned placid.

“Ye’re only saying that so as not to offend me.”

Ronan grinned and winked. “I’ve nay problem offending anyone.”

Julianna snorted. “That, I do believe.”

However much he wanted to kiss her to make her realize how wrong she was in not believing him, Ronan had the gut feeling words would be best for her.

“My lady… I want ye to believe that if the Bruce did not stand between us, indeed if the whole of Scotland and England did not put a barrier between the two of us, I would strip ye of every inch of fabric and worship the length of ye.”

Julianna’s mouth fell open and she sucked in a quick breath. Speechless. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her that way. But her eyes were not void of reaction. Wide, they jerked to gaze from his lips and back to his eyes several times.

“I’m nay going back to the castle. Not until I’m done,” she whispered, changing the subject away from making love.

A change he regretfully should thank her for. Else he turn her over once more and not only spank her, but lift her skirts.

“Tell me. Let me help ye.”

She shook her head.

“I will make a deal with ye.”

Again, she shook her head.

“Dinna be stubborn. I’m offering to help ye. If I brought ye back to the castle, ye’d only escape again to do whatever it is ye deem so important. I am offering to help ye, to provide escort.”

Her mouth closed and she glanced away as if contemplating what he said.
If she was actually going to give it some thought, he would let her. Ronan studied the landscape to make sure they were still alone. All was still. The sky was growing lighter, turning into a purplish grey instead of black. The sun would be fully risen within the next two hours.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she said,
“Fine. Ye can come with me.”

Victory. “Where are we going?”

“I am going to find Laird Ross. And I’m going to kill him.”

Chapter Nine

 

J
ulianna tamped down the urge to clap her hand over her mouth, to pull back the words she’d just spoken. Ronan would force her to return to Eilean Donan now, an action which would in turn compel her to react.

A reaction she was sure to regret as would the steely warrior whose lap she perched on.

She could wallop him good in the temple, knock him out. Or mayhap less brutal, she could pull the dirk from her sleeve and make him put her down. But with the latter, he’d probably think he could overpower her, and Julianna did not want to inflict deadly force upon him.

Damn the man!

A wallop it would be. Just how should she go about it? She supposed she could play on his more desirous self and lean in for a kiss. He’d be none the wiser as she raised her hand to strike.

Julianna licked her lips, determined to be on her way within the next five minutes. Ronan’s gaze followed the path her tongue took to wet her lips. Good. He was interested in kissing her some more. And, for heaven’s sake, she was too. But no. She couldn’t be caught up in the thrill of his mouth on hers, in the sensual, lightning-like exploration his tongue had taken.

Ronan lowered his face an inch, then stopped. Julianna stared at his chin, lightly touched his arm. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Not when she knew this was all a ploy to get away. She almost felt sorry for him.

And herself.

“Julianna.” His voice had taken on a husky tone. “We canna stay here. The sun is coming up.”

She swallowed, trying to hold back the sudden sting of his rejection. ’Twas somewhat puzzling that he could want to kiss her, but sought to distract her away from the task. An act of self-preservation? Could be.

She wasn’t going to give up though.

“I want…” How did one say they wished to kiss someone? She didn’t want to appear too forward, even if it was only to make him let his guard down.

“Aye, my lady, I do too.”

Oh dear, his voice was even lower, guttural. A sound that scraped tantalizingly along her nerves. Why did she have to want him so desperately?

She just had to remember what was more important—Ross and Scotland. Ridding the land of the treacherous bastard who’d threatened not only her life but that of everyone she didn’t know.

“Then kiss me,” she said, surprised at the sound of her own voice. This farce was affecting her far more than she wanted or appreciated.

Ronan wasted no time in answering her request. He growled, glanced away as though he hoped to change his mind, but not a second later he put his hands on either side of her face, guided her mouth to his and crushed their lips together. No gentle kiss was this. No exploration of each other. ’Twas pure, unadulterated passion.

And she nearly forgot to give him a thump on the head! Julianna tried to put her mind to rights as his tongue plundered her mouth. Tried to muster strength in her arms to lift one and put some power behind her swing. But her fingers trembled and every swipe of his tongue had her going mad with need, with thoughts of what this meant.

She was enjoying it too much.

Julianna fisted a hand, raised it, but then let it sink against his shoulder where she opened her hand and squeezed his muscle.

Shivers stole over her, racing up and down her spine and throughout her limbs. Her breasts grew heavy, aching with need and their peaks pebbled sending frissons of pleasure to pull at her core. Squirming against him, she worked to grow closer, to press herself to his chest, to feel the length of him, his warmth on her body.

A moan, a whimper. They were hers, coming from her own throat.

This was all his fault. Why did he have to be so charming? So good with his lips?

Her fingers trailed up his neck, around the back to tug at his soft hair. He did the same to her, and she felt herself melting another fraction.

No! She had to knock him out! Had to escape from his embrace, the hold he had on her mind.

The hound growled, an eerie warning that had them both scrambling apart. Julianna’s breath came in rapid pants, her heart beat so hard she thought it might crack her ribs. She swiped trembling fingers over her kiss-swollen lips.

The dog had not ceased its growling and had jumped to its feet, hackles raised. Even their horses’ ears pinned back.

“Someone comes,” Ronan said so softly she barely heard him.

Julianna listened. Could hear the faint hoof beats in the distance. She nodded.

“We’ll be faster if ye ride your own horse.”

Again she nodded. And she could get away.

“Dinna try to escape me. I will only follow ye.”

How had he guessed her plan?

Ronan nudged his horse over to hers and lifted her effortlessly, placing her on her own saddle. He gripped her chin, looked sternly into her eyes.

“Whatever the outcome is, know that I plan to help ye with Ross. I’ll nay take ye back to the castle until ye’ve seen your mission completed.”

Julianna’s eyes widened. He
truly would? She’d heard him say as much before, but had not believed him. The conviction, however, in his eyes was enough to change her mind. Ronan meant every word. That was a shocking revelation.

“Why?”

“We want the same thing. I’ll explain more later. We must ride.”

He was right, the longer they dallied, the less chance they had of staying out of sight of whoever approached.

“Follow me.”

Ronan surged forward, his horse’s legs loping in such an elegant way she froze for a moment to watch. Brave also had a beautiful gait. And while she was mesmerized by the animal’s beauty, she was not frozen. Julianna realized with stunning clarity the reason why—it was Ronan on the horse. Tall, strong, powerful. He exuded raw power and sensuality. She shivered, shook her head and then urged her horse to move.

Ronan pointed toward another rise of rocks, and they wound their way up the hill, riding toward the rising sun. Julianna only took a moment to turn around, whoever approached was a tiny speck now and she hoped they didn’t see her and Ronan and that if they did, they didn’t care. With her luck, however, that would be too much to ask.

The wind whipped her hood and hair into her eyes and with it came a few stinging pelts of ice rain. Once again, her luck appeared to be the cause—
for she had no luck.

Pulling her hood closer, she followed Ronan, keeping his horse’s rear in her sights at all time. The ice rain found its way against her face, pinging against her forehead and cheeks, melting with the heat of her flesh and dripping into her eyes only to freeze upon her lashes. At least it was no longer completely dark. If she’d been blinded by icicles on her
eyelashes and a nighttime sky, things would have been even worse.

“Come on!” Ronan called. His voice was urgent, made her nerves grate with fear.

Why was he acting as though their escape was crucial? She couldn’t turn around to look, not with the way the ice and wind whipped. But she did listen. The wind whistled, the ice hit the ground, rocks and them with varying sounds. And beyond that the sound of approaching horses’ hooves beat a rapid pace on the earth. They were being followed.

Julianna swallowed hard, growled under her breath. ’Twould appear that every man and his brother were out to keep her from her task. She’d not take it as a sign, but a challenge.

“We have to face them!” she shouted.

“Too many!”

Julianna took Ronan at his word. The hills grew steep, and soon their horses slowed with the exertion of climbing on slippery slopes.

“Almost there,” Ronan called behind him.

Where was there? But she couldn’t ask him, couldn’t speak, was trying too hard to stay seated on Brave. Her saddle was wet and slippery and with each of her horse’s jerky steps forward she slipped a little and had to tug herself back in place. Her arms and thighs burned from the exertion, and her hands stung from the cold. Her gloves were warm in winter, but in the rain…they could only take so much moisture and were beginning to freeze onto her flesh. Tears stung her eyes, threatening to spill.

Toughen up,
she told herself. No time to worry over little things like sore muscles and frozen hands. She was a warrior. Warriors didn’t cry over pitiful things like that.

Ronan certainly wasn’t crying. He forged ahead. In the wilds of the Highlands, especially with enemies hiding within their own, to quit meant death. Julianna would beat death.
Prove to Ronan that she was made of tougher stuff. That she was just as brave as he was. She didn’t need him to provide protection, she could be
his
guard.

With renewed confidence she gripped the reins harder, tightened her legs and shouted for Brave to kee
p up his strength. Ronan called back his encouragement which made her smile, although it was a gritty determined grin. She kind of liked making him proud. Liked the way he called for her to keep up her courage.

The rise flattened out for a good twelve feet and curved around, a safer path given the weather, but Ronan surged ahead, continuing the climb. She understood why. Those who followed would see the easier path and think they took it. He was smart. A niggl
ing fear that she would have taken the easier path droned inside her. But she couldn’t be worrying about what she would and wouldn’t do and what Ronan had chosen. Comparing the two of them was ridiculous.

And yet, it was hard not to. One of Julianna’s weaknesses was her habit of comparing herself to others. To warriors, to other women. To the kitchen staff, to the ladies at court and even Robert. Examining each one and seeing their strengths and weaknesses was a practice she’d started back when her training first began. And if she was honest, it was really before then. She was a natural. Came out studying people. Hence the reason her parents insisted on this position for her.

For some time she’d considered herself lucky in that regard. The only bit of luck she had. And was a natural talent really a stroke of luck?

Julianna groaned inside. Why was she even bothering to have this conversation with herself
? A weakness was not something to ponder and make excuses about. A weakness was something that needed to be conquered and since she was full aware of it, not in denial, she’d best start now.

Lifting her chin, she rode on. Ronan’s horse slipped, his back hooves skidding a foot, give or take a few inches. Brave
whinnied and she feared he’d rear up which would only force them both back down the hill.

“Steady!” she and Ronan both called to their animals.

Ronan’s horse continued to slide backward, the rain having fallen hard enough to make the ground slick with mud. Julianna hauled Brave’s reins to the side, going around Ronan in time before his horse caused her own to rear up. Ronan looked at her, and she found herself struck. His eyes were hard, indomitable and yet a flash of fear built inside them. His mouth was pressed thin, his lips white around the edges.

The man was determined to beat this slide. He
would get to the top, that much was evident. What else was evident was that Julianna wanted to help him. She just wasn’t sure how. Brave had steadier feet, and was able to dig his hooves deep into the mud, holding on for dear life.

“Come on!” she shouted to Ronan. “Grab hold!” She reached out her hand and he stared at it like she held out a rotten, maggot-infested limb. “Take my hand.”

When his mount slid further, his skeptic gaze faded and he did grab her hand. She used all her strength in that arm and then some to hold on. The wetness of both their gloves molded into a tight seal, instead of simply sliding away. She was going to hurt tomorrow, but that mattered little. Letting Ronan and his horse fall behind was not an option.

Her legs gripped like an iron vice to her horse and with Ronan’s impressive hold, she guided them both up the steep incline. There was no time to rest when they made it to the top
, though her entire body shook from cold and fatigue. If they traveled much longer, she’d be in danger of needing saving. Julianna let Ronan have the lead once more since he seemed familiar with the land and because she didn’t want to completely emasculate him. Having just saved his arse, she wasn’t sure how he would react. Most men did not appreciate a woman’s help. Especially hers. Julianna had learned to be more humble over the years instead of boasting of her victories.

BOOK: The Highlander's Warrior Bride
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