by Alisa Adams
Caden looked at the woman in his arms as water ran down his face. His straight black hair was soaked and dripping. He flung his head back, sending water flying again, this time out behind him and down his neck and back.
Cat stared up at his thick, strong, tan neck. She bit her lip nervously. She watched as he brought his head back slowly and looked down at her.
“Perhaps I should dunk you again so that you are as wet as you have gotten me?” he smiled crookedly at her.
“What? Ye wouldnae dare!” she gasped.
He arched his brow and slowly started lowering his arms with her in them.
“Nay!” she screeched as she clung to him, pulling herself up against his chest, wrapping both arms around his neck. “I am not hot now!”
Caden held her as she climbed up his chest, her legs kicking and flailing in the water. He turned his head and closed his eyes to avoid all the splashing she was making. When she became still he turned his face back to her and opened his eyes to see her eyes level with his. She was staring at him in such a way that made his breath catch in his chest.
Cat was still, her arms tightly wrapped around his strong, bronzed neck. She could feel her breathing increase through her parted lips. She could feel her breasts crushed to his warm chest. Both of their bodies were wet and dripping.
Caden let his eyes rove, captivated and hungry, over her face. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and clenched his teeth together as he struggled to overcome this unwanted feeling that was wrapping itself around him, just like her body was. Her slender limbs around him were only making it worse.
“I willnae hurt you, Catriona,” he whispered through his teeth as he continued to fight the perplexing feelings running through him. “I willnae let you drown in this river, I vow this,” he said as his voice deepened and he continued to stare, confused and mesmerized, into her eyes.”I am only trying to help you.” He paused, seeing her glancing worriedly at the water. He released a breath as his jaw relaxed. He gave her a slow, tantalizing smile, “You do know that I am bent down on my knee in the water? ’Tis not deep here.” His eyes twinkled in mirth as he stared at her.
Cat frowned and looked down into the water, her eyes narrowed as she turned back to him and gave him a fierce glare. She opened her mouth to say something scathing but his lips slammed down on hers before she could speak.
The kiss was brief, powerful, and raw.
Cat stared at him as he pulled away, seeing the confusion warring with the hunger in his eyes.
She could not help herself. She unwound one arm from around his neck, reached up with one finger, and delicately wiped a water droplet off his strong jaw. Then her eyes traveled back up to his.
Caden froze at her touch. He was a man who was strong, confident, and at home in his body and with its capabilities. But the gentle touch of another was foreign to him.
“Why did you do that?” he asked in a gruff whisper.
Cat blinked and bit her lip. She watched as his eyes immediately went to her lips.
“I dinnae know. Why did ye kiss me?” she whispered back at him as she slightly raised her chin.
“I do not know,” he said almost angrily. “But you touched my face with your finger. Why?” he demanded huskily as he looked at her with his brows furrowed.
“Ye were wet?” she asked hesitantly.
“As are you,” he said in a low voice. “Should I do the same?”
“Nay,” she whispered.
Their faces were so close that he breathed in each breath that trembled out from between her beautiful lips.
“Catriona...” He wanted to kiss her again. He clenched his jaw, fighting a battle within himself. He didn’t know why he had kissed her the first time. It had been purely raw, basic, instinctual. This was new to him. This intense feeling of wanting to help someone, of wanting to protect and care for a female.
Of wanting to be gentle.
Cat touched his jaw again, biting her lip as she stared in wonder at his square jaw. He was clean-shaven, without even the hint of a beard. Even his chest was nothing but golden smooth skin, rippled with lines of muscle. She trailed just the tip of her finger to his lips.
A shudder ripped through Caden’s taut body.
Cat felt it throughout her own body.
“Catriona,” he growled against her finger.
Cat started to pull her finger away but his lips followed.
She watched his mouth lowering towards hers in fascination. Her eyes softened and her lips parted as her heart beat frantically against his chest.
She could feel his heart racing against her body where his bronzed skin pressed firmly against her own.
She stared into his eyes, waiting expectantly.
Hopefully. Curiously.
This man had both annoyed her and fascinated her from the day she had met him when he had shown up at Kinbrace to kill her best friend—his own sister.
She trembled slightly with a strange and heady need along with a stirring sense of wonder.
I feel alive!
She could feel life pulsing through her body. Not sickness, but life!
Because of this man.
She stretched her face up, towards his. She leaned forward and moved her lips in a brushing motion against his mouth, barely grazing his lips.
She felt him tremble violently and heard him growl low in his throat.
His mouth crashed down onto hers with a suddenness that jolted new strength into her as she wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck and held on for his onslaught.
Caden slammed his other knee down onto the streambed.
He knelt there in the water on both knees with Catriona in his arms and kissed her as if it was the only thing he wanted in the world.
As if she was the greatest gift he had ever been given and he was on his knees giving thanks.
Cat kissed him back as though her very life depended on it, like it would be the first and last kiss she would ever have or ever give.
Caden drew slightly back; stunned, confused.
Angry.
He had made a vow to his sister to help this girl. He must fulfill that promise. What am I doing! He needed to fulfill his vow to get her well again.
Caden pulled further away and looked at her with a scowl.
Cat frowned as her breathing slowed and returned to normal. What just happened? I am sick, dying. I know I am dying. I cannae fall in love, and it would be wrong to chance this man falling in love with me!
“Ye should not kiss me,” she whispered. When he said nothing, she added weakly, “I did not give ye permission.”
Caden’s expression changed from a scowl to surprise. He chuckled so deeply in his chest that Cat felt the vibration of it through his skin to hers.
“You did. You asked me to, in fact,” Caden growled angrily with male pride and confidence in his voice. Then he frowned as uncertainty flowed over his face.
“Ye should not do it again,” she said, trying to sound firm.
Cat’s energy was suddenly gone, sapped out of her. I am dying. I cannae hurt this man. And with that came a new thought. I will never know what it is to fall in love.
Caden stared down at her, noting the change that had come over her. What am I thinking, to kiss this girl? “Ye are correct. Ye are not well and that was wrong of me.” He lifted her slightly to look into her eyes. He knew he sounded angry. Part of him was angry. “I have never experienced this, never had a person touch me as you did.”
Cat eyed him curiously, forgetting what she was feeling, only curious about this man. “Ye mean you've never had a woman touch ye?”
Caden swallowed. “Never. I have never had anyone touch me with...with kindness. Since my mother died, that is...”
Cat stared into his confused eyes. She gasped. “But of course! Yer father; Ronan Keith, he beat yer mother, killed her, and tried to kill yer sister.” She paused, her eyes narrowing with worry and realization. “He beat Kaithria. He beat you as well, dinnae he?” she
whispered.
Caden’s jaw tensed. “My father was not a kind man. His ways were harsh. Always. It has made me strong.” He looked into her startled eyes. “You live in a false world. One that you think is always filled with happiness and joy. But that is not the real world. The real world is hard, harsh, filled with pain,” he snarled. “Most people do not know happiness or love as you do,” he ended gruffly.
“Och, Caden, what kind of life have ye lived?” she said sadly. And then, “Ye’ve never loved anyone?” she asked with pain in her tight voice.
Caden stared down into her wide, green eyes that were shadowed with the pain she was feeling.
He shrugged in response to her question, causing Cat to gasp at the big, powerful movement of his body against hers. She clutched at him, her arms tightening around his neck.
“I dinnae know how to love, Catriona,” he tried to explain. “It is not within me to be able to love in the way a man loves a woman. I only know the loyalty between my men. The loyalty of warriors to have each other’s backs. I know nothing of women or love.” He scowled at her forlorn face. He had caused that look. “Forgive me,” Caden said solemnly.
“Ye are forgiven,” she said in a sad voice. She took a breath and tried to break the sad look in his eyes. She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes on his. “But I may still try to kill ye so ye better behave and—”
He smiled, and leaning down, he kissed her again.
“Caden!” she said as she pulled away. “Ye may not kiss me. I am sick.”
He shrugged again and she grabbed at him once more, holding on tight.
“I think I like kissing,” Caden said with a surly, embarrassed grin. “I will keep kissing you, Catriona. Get used to it. For I do not think I can stop now that I have had a taste of kissing.”
“Get used to it? A taste of kissing?” she gasped, insulted by his words. “Then go kiss someone else!” she said loudly, though she was scowling tensely at him.
“What?” he asked in a gruff voice as he frowned at her, confused by her words.
Cat crossed her arms across her chest as he held her in his arms in the middle of the stream, and looked at him. “If just kissing is yer desire, and it matters not who ye kiss, go kiss someone else.”
He arched his brow at her. “Interesting. I do not understand your anger.”
“Do ye want to kiss random women?” she demanded of him, for he was staring haughtily at her. He looked every bit the exotic, desert Morrocan prince like his ancestors, but with the build of a tall, muscular Highland warrior.
“I liked kissing you,” he said in a low voice.
“But I am sick—” she tried to say forcefully.
“You will get better,” he said firmly. It was an order. “Your fever is already gone. The water has cooled you.”
She reached up and held his face in both hands, staring deeply into his eyes.
“But what if I dinnae, Caden? What if I die? Ye must stay away from me,” Cat whispered. “Dinnae be falling in love with me,” she pleaded. “I will die in that house,” she said, pointing to the house above the river.
Caden scowled furiously. “I told you, love is not within me. Where is the girl that is passionate about being alive? Use that. You will not die. You will get well,” he ordered in a gruff, hoarse voice full of angry emotion. “I vow this.”
He would hear no more.
He had a promise to keep, a vow to fulfill, and here he had gone and kissed this annoying, fascinating, short-haired girl with curls the color of the sun who was sick and needed his help. The fact that he wanted more of her kisses infuriated and confused him.
He stood up and took large, splashing strides out of the river, holding her in his arms like the precious gift she was. He carried her back up to the pink-colored, fairy-tale-looking house called Sanside.
The place it seemed she was determined to die.
And he was even more determined not to let her.
1
A few months earlier in the spring of that same year…
* * *
Lady Catriona MacKay lay weak and listless in her bed. The claws of pain that had been gripping her had faded away, leaving her spent, exhausted, and afraid of when they would return.
She looked towards the windows in her room, hoping to see sunshine and blue skies and the occasional seagull flying outside her window. Anything to take her mind off this sickness that chased her, attacking her at random times, leaving her always trembling, weak, sweating, and haunted. But the shutters were closed. The taffeta curtains with their embroidered flowers and romantic turtle doves were pulled across each of the shuttered windows, totally shutting out the sunlight.
At night she woke up often because of the pain, but also because the room was so very cold. She lay shivering, trying in vain to sleep. There was no fire in the hearth to warm the room. And during the day the windows remained closed, shutting out the fresh air and the sea breezes she longed for.
The house was always so quiet as few dared to come to her room to care for her, for fear of catching her sickness.
Cat struggled to pull herself up into a sitting position. She had no strength, and that frightened her as well. But she managed it, barely, shaking with the Herculean effort that it took.
She had no idea what time of day it was. She frowned and settled her head wearily back against the headboard of her bed. She looked around her beautiful room. Shafts of sunlight still managed to squeeze their way in at the edges of the shutters and through the shimmering taffeta of the curtains. If not for those glints of sun, Cat would have no idea if it was day or night. She had been alone, sick, in this room for months.
Just like the last time.
She had gotten better then.
This time, her housekeeper, Rhona, and her brother, Richerd Redhed, feared the worst. They had gotten her through this sickness the last time with their great care. Now they could only shake their heads as they looked down pitifully at her, frail and limp in the large bed that seemed to make her appear even smaller, more fragile. Richerd, also a healer, had even cut her hair again, thinking it may cure her of the unknown sickness. It was once more short like a boy’s. Her blonde hair curled and waved around her face, making her wide, green eyes appear even larger. Her face was pale, with dark shadows under her eyes.
Cat wanted desperately to write a letter to her good friends. Her housekeeper had advised against it, as anything Cat did exhausted her. Even just pulling herself into a sitting position made her gasp for breath and left her shaking and trembling. The room tilted and whirled. Cat fought the darkness trying to suck her down.
She would not faint.
She would not.
A single tear rolled down Cat’s cheeks as she looked around her bedroom. It was her bedroom. In her house. Her very own. Everything picked out by her.
Her brother Wolf had finally deemed it time to let her have this little property their parents had bequeathed to her. She was old enough and had proven herself able to run an estate while Wolf had been away fighting for the king and becoming a hero. Wolf had married Swan McKinnon after helping her and six orphans flee their destroyed home of Brough.
Swan had recently just given birth to her first child, and their home was bursting at the seams. MacKay Castle was no longer big enough for Wolf’s younger sister Catriona to stay.
Cat had been more than happy to finally bring Sanside House back to life. The small, pinkish castle had been a getaway for her parents when they were still alive. It sat by Sandside Bay and a trickling burn that fed the bay. The beaches were white sand, the waves gentle, the seagulls and the fishing plenty. The villagers were friendly, and the grain harvest was abundant. It was a small slice of heaven.
But her enjoyment of it was to be short-lived.
It seemed that it was here that Cat would die.
Cat reached for the small writing desk beside her bed with trembling hands. It was lightweight and only contained a few quills, some paper, and her ink, but when
she placed it on her lap, it felt like it was as heavy as one of Inchturfin’s hooves. How she missed riding the old retired warhorse she had gotten from her friend Swan. Old Inch was one of the last of the warhorses from Brough Castle. Cat sighed. She hadn’t been able to ride him, much less see him for all these months.
She opened the little lap desk and pulled out the paper, inkwell and a quill. She paused a moment, thinking. Resting her head against her wood headboard, she waited for some strength to return. She moved her back in agitation, arching, and then stretching. She could never seem to get comfortable on this bed. Even stretching her back robbed her of her strength. She got down to the task at hand—writing missives to her friends.
The little chambermaid had agreed to collect them and send them on if she could get them finished today. She took the quill in her trembling hand and set to writing.
Dearest Kaithria,
Or should I say Princess Kaithria? Or Lady Kaithria Gunn? I hope your wedding trip is all that you could have wished for!
Cat had to stop, as her hand was trembling. She smiled, thinking of her friend Kaithria. She had been so mysterious and so silent when they first met on the road back to Brough Castle where her other friends, Lady Swan and Neely, had lived before Brough was attacked and destroyed. Kaithria had been an orphan and had helped so many children. But she had carried the pain of her mother’s death, who was murdered by her own father. She had gotten her happily ever after, though. It turned out that Cat’s mysterious friend Kaithria was a princess. Her mother was Zahrah of Morocco, stolen by a Highlander pirate, Ronan Keith. Kaithria was so very beautiful, exotic, and mysterious. Cat’s Uncle Keir had fallen in love with her and they were married now. But then Kaithria’s brother, Caden Keith, had arrived to kill her, thinking it was she who had caused the death of their mother. Cat had threatened to kill Caden until he listened to the truth Kaithria was telling him.
Cat looked down at the paper. She must continue.
I am writing a letter to each of ye, me friends.
