The Hunter (18 page)

But he wasn’t going to. It was better to pretend it had never happened and never mattered. It was better to pretend he didn’t care. Because something told him that if he touched her again, if he vented the dangerous maelstrom of emotions twisting inside him, she would end up in his arms once more with that too soft, too sensual, too tempting pink mouth melting under his.

He shouldn’t be thinking of how good she’d tasted. He shouldn’t remember it at all after this long, blast it. She wasn’t going to affect him; he wouldn’t let her.

“The nuts,” he said, taking a step back to clear his head. “They
are
your favorite.”

She blinked at him, obviously surprised that was all he had to say. Did she expect him to rail at her for lying to him about her identity and letting him believe that he’d committed a grievous sin? Did she expect him to be angry that she hadn’t kept her promise to stay out of danger? She bloody well should.

She had a puzzled look on her face, as if she was trying to figure him out. “You found me through the merchant?”

He’d found her; now he just wanted to be rid of her. The sooner the better, if the heat pounding in his body was any indication. He shrugged with an indifference he didn’t feel. “We should go.”

“Go where?”

“I’m taking you back to the Highlands.”

She shook her head as if she had a say in the matter. “I’m not done yet. There is something important—”

“I didn’t ask, my lady.” She stiffened again, and that wary look returned. He supposed he did get some satisfaction in that. Keeping her on her toes, waiting for the axe to fall, gave him an advantage.

“You can’t order me—”

“I’m not the one doing the ordering, it’s the king.”

“Why is he calling me back?”

“I’m just following orders. You’ll have to ask him.” He sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in
that
battle.

She bit her lip.

Bloody hell, stop that!

Only when she frowned did he realize he’d spoken aloud. “Stop what?”

A few minutes in her presence and he was already losing his mind—and other parts of him were having a little trouble, too, with her nearness. “We need to leave.”

She shook her head. “Tell Robert that I’ll return as soon as I can, but there is something important I have to do first.”

“You can tell him yourself.”

“You don’t understand, this is very important. I have to be here when—” She stopped, as if uncertain how much to say. She lifted her chin defiantly. “Robert will understand.”

He could have guessed she was going to be difficult
about this. “If you are so certain of that, tell him yourself. I thought you were good at explaining things.”

He knew she wouldn’t be able to resist that.

Her eyes narrowed, and he suspected she’d guessed his intent. “I am. But it will take too long. I told you there is something I must do.” She put her hand on his arm, and he froze. She stood so close he could practically feel the press of her body against his. Heat washed through him in a hot, pulsing wave. “I don’t see why a week or two will make a difference. Please, can’t you just tell him I’ll be back as soon as I am able?”

Staring down into her eyes, Ewen felt something inside him tug. The soft imploring look pounded against the wall he’d erected in his mind like a battering ram. He leaned down for a minute, inhaling her sweetness, wanting to give in—

He came back to reality with a jerk. “No.” He didn’t know whether he was talking to her or to himself. “We leave now.”

He could see her try to control her temper. Her lips were pursed tight. “I know you are only trying to do your duty, but I’m sure if you come back—”

“Don’t bother with one of your roundabout attempts to change my mind. It won’t work.”

“Why do you have to be so unreasonable!”

She looked so infuriated, he nearly laughed. Fearing a full-fledged rebellion and wanting to avoid having to drag her back, he said, “We have a ship at the coast in Ayr. If the king agrees to let you return, you can be back in ten days or so.”

She looked uncertain. “Ten days? You are sure? I have to be back by St. Drostan’s Day.”

He shrugged. It was feasible. Not that he thought she’d be in the position to find out, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her that. If she wanted to think she’d be permitted to return to Roxburgh, that was fine by him. As
soon as he returned her to Dunstaffnage, she was Bruce’s problem. And Stewart’s, he reminded himself, his teeth gnashing together so hard his jaw hurt.

It’s up to you. Keep your head down, do your job, don’t do anything to anger the king
. That was all he had to do. Simple. He couldn’t let her make it complicated.

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you not telling me?”

He gritted his teeth. “Look, my lady, my job is to bring you back. A job I have every intention of fulfilling. But how I do that is up to you. We can make this as difficult or as easy as you want. The king has given you a direct order to leave the Borders and appear before him at Dunstaffnage. Refuse and you aren’t defying me, you’re defying the king.”

“Eleanor!”

Her head turned toward the sound of the cry, and then back to him. “They’re looking for me.”

She would have moved toward the voice, but he clasped her arm. “So what’s it to be,
Eleanor
?”

Her mouth pursed with annoyance. “What choice have you left me? I will go, but I can’t just disappear without word. Give me an hour and then come for me at the priory. I will say you are my brother come to fetch me home for an emergency.”

He nodded. They wouldn’t be able to leave until it was dark anyway.

“I’m here, Sister!” she yelled back, starting around the building.

“Janet.”

She turned, her big sea-green eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t make me come after you.” He’d meant it as a warning, but his voice sounded oddly gruff.

Their eyes held for a long moment, almost as if she were waiting for him to say more. But he couldn’t.

Finally, she gave him a short nod, and then she was gone.

Ten

Janet was furious. Leaving now was a mistake. What if it took too long? What if her informant came to her with something important, and she wasn’t here?

If Ewen would just
listen
to her. But the man was utterly impervious to reason! She might as well have been trying to bend iron or dent stone. He had to be the most infuriating man she’d ever met.

All these months. All the time she’d wasted wondering about him. Thinking about him. She must have been daft.

In her memories—all right, in her fantasies—Janet had forgotten just how unreasonable Ewen Lamont could be. How could she have thought there could ever be something between them? The man was perfectly immovable. Utterly recalcitrant. Rigid and uncompromising. Who cared if he could take her breath away with his kiss and was so heart-stoppingly handsome that seeing him again after all this time made her knees turn to jelly? She could never care about someone so totally
unreasonable
and indifferent to her wishes.

Talking with him was an exercise in frustration.

But it was also exhilarating.

Janet’s heart was still beating hard as she stomped her way up the hill to the priory with the other nuns.

Of course, he wasn’t here because he had feelings for her. How could she have been so foolish as to let herself be disappointed even for a moment? The only reason he was
here was because the king had ordered him to come fetch her. He’d probably forgotten all about the kiss. He didn’t even seem to care that she’d lied to him about her identity. She’d thought he’d be furious to discover she wasn’t a nun.

Heaven’s gates, of all the time to start acting like a lovesick girl. He wasn’t the man for her. There wasn’t a man for her. She was going to be a nun, wasn’t she? Of course, she was. How could she have let him make her lose sight of her plans for even a minute?

“Is something wrong, Eleanor?”

It took Janet a moment to realize Beth was talking to her.

She smiled at the young novice, whose big, dark eyes reminded her so much of Sister Marguerite. “Nay, why do you ask?”

The girl looked puzzled. “You were muttering.” She blushed. “I thought I heard you say ‘stubborn oaf.’ ”

It was Janet’s turn for hot cheeks. “I was thinking about my brother. He’ll be here to fetch me soon. I’ve had some distressing news from home and must return to Cumberland for a few days. My mother is ill.”

Beth appeared so distressed, Janet almost reached out to offer
her
comfort. Lying was part of the job—and she was good at it—but recently it had begun to chafe.

“How horrible!” the girl said. “Is there anything I can do?”

Janet started to shake her head, but then she thought of something. “If anyone asks for me at the hospital, will you tell them I will return soon?”

Beth nodded solemnly. “The patients will miss you. As will I.”

Janet felt a soft tug in her chest. As with Sister Marguerite, it was hard to keep herself distant from the young novice. But as Sister Marguerite had proved, a connection with her could be dangerous. Janet almost regretted making the simple request of Beth, but just in case she took
longer than expected, she wanted their informant to know she would be back.

The abbess accepted without comment the story of her needing to leave. Friar Thom—the horror of his death still weighed heavily on Janet—had told her the abbess was a friend. How much she knew, Janet didn’t ask, but she suspected the older nun had guessed most of it.

When Ewen arrived to collect her at the gate at the appointed hour—thankfully, dressed in the plain clothing of a farmer rather than his leper’s cloak and hood—she was ready to go. He grunted some kind of greeting, took her bag, and led her (or rather, he stalked away and she hurried after him) down the path to where he’d tied the horses. She was pleased to see two. Of course, she was. The last thing she wanted to do was ride with him again.

It wasn’t as if the memory of his arms around her, the big, hard wall of his chest behind her, or the gentle warmth and feeling of contentment was something she dreamed about. Nor was the thought of spending a few days with him something that should be making her pulse race, blast it.

She noticed that he did a surreptitious scan of the countryside around the convent before he turned and helped lift her onto the horse. But other than a few nuns working in the garden, and a young lad fishing by the river, there was no one else about. Janet supposed he was just being cautious, but she did sense an unusual watchfulness about him.

No doubt any warrior in Bruce’s army would feel a bit anxious being in the Borders, but the convent was in a quiet part of the village, at least a quarter-mile away from any other abode. He had no cause for concern.

She might have told him so, but the moment his hands wrapped around her waist to lift her, she jolted. There was no other way to describe the blast of sensation that surged through her at the moment of contact. She could feel the imprint of every one of those big fingers splayed over her ribs.

Good heavens, she’d forgotten how strong he was. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a child. She reached out to steady herself by grabbing the solid muscle of his arms, and the jolt was followed by a heavy rush of heat. Heat that poured through her body in deep, molten waves.

Oh God, it was just like she remembered. She’d wondered if she’d imagined it—exaggerated it in her mind. But she hadn’t. One brief touch and she was falling to pieces.

Yet one glance at his stony expression and she felt a pang. Obviously he was not similarly affected. He wore that same grim look on his face that she remembered so well, except that his mouth was even a tad tighter than before. Little white lines were etched around his lips and the muscle below his jaw seemed to tic a few times.

He set her down so harshly on the saddle, she gasped. “Ouch!” she said, rubbing her affected backside. “That hurt.” He didn’t bother to offer an apology but glared at her as if it were her fault. She lifted one eyebrow. “I can see you’ve been perfecting your gallantry skills since last we met.”

His eyes glinted and her insides did a little tossing about at their steely intensity. He gave her a mock bow. “Forgive me,
my lady
. I’d forgotten who I was serving.”

Janet bit her lip, regretting the sarcasm that had reminded him of her wee deception. Apparently, he wasn’t as indifferent as he appeared about learning her true identity. She half-expected him to start bellowing at her, but instead, he turned sharply away and mounted his own horse.

Janet wasn’t the best judge of horseflesh, but even she could see that the horses were better suited to plow animals and certainly weren’t going to be able to carry them far from Roxburgh. They rode a few minutes before she asked, “Did you borrow the horses the same place you borrowed those clothes?”

He shot her a glare. “You didn’t leave me much time to
plan for something grander,
my lady
. I thought the farmer better than the leper or wearing my armor to collect you.”