The Highlander's Bride

by Donna Fletcher

  “It would seem so, but it matters less to me than it once did.”

  Cullen looked perplexed, his brow scrunching. “Why so?”

  Sara was direct and determined, fighting the impulse to surrender and deal with the consequences later. “I gave it more importance than was necessary, or perhaps it was simply that I wished to know intimacy before condemning myself to an empty life.” She shook her head. “I never realized that it was love I wished to taste, and I owe that revelation to you and Alaina. Hearing you speak of your love for her made me understand how I longed to find such a love and not simply experience sex.”

  She smiled at him with saddened eyes. “I want to love. I don’t simply want to couple.”

  “You don’t have much choice at the moment,” he said. “Not if you hope to protect yourself from future repercussions.”

  “My choice; my consequences.”

  “Not anymore.”

  His curt response startled her. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “It’s really quite simple. You’re my wife and I take my husbandly duties seriously.”

  “Since when?” she snapped, not believing him, or perhaps wanting to believe him.

  “Since I’ve come to admire you.”

  He admired her? When had that happened? He had wed her under duress and for a specific purpose. There was no reason for him to feel one way or another about her. When had he looked at her differently? What had caused it? She was who she had always been, but then, hadn’t she thought the same of him?

  He had simply been a means to an end, and now suddenly he seemed more than that, and not because she found him appealing. He was a handsome man but that mattered little to her. His character interested her. Had he come to feel the same about her?

  He eased her back on the blanket and she quickly splayed her hand against his hard chest. She felt his strength; it seeped into her invading her flesh and her senses. It tingled her fingers and sent gooseflesh rushing up her arms and over her body.

  She reached up to stroke a small dent in his chin. She hadn’t noticed it before, but in this position with him near on top of her and the firelight casting a wicked glow on his face, she could see all of him, dents, nicks, and crannies.

  “We are much alike.”

  “It would seem so,” she said, agreeing with the obvious and feeling more than comfortable with it. It was as if they were old friends, knowing the good and the bad of each other, and none of it making a difference. In the end they would, without a doubt, be there for one another.

  He kissed the finger that teased his dent. “I would never hurt you. You have my word on that.”

  “I think I’ve known that all along. I believed you a good man from first we met.”

  “Then you trust me?” he asked softly.

  “Aye, I do,” she said without hesitation.

  He brushed warm lips across hers. “Then let us seal our vows and protect you.”

  Her smile was slow to surface and she ran a finger along his moist lips. Her words did not come easy, but they did come firmly. “I can’t.”

  He took her hand and rested it over his heart. “You wound me.”

  She sighed with pleasure and disappointment. “And you tempt me beyond belief.”

  He took her hand and kissed her palm. “Then why not surrender?”

  Her eyes danced with merriment. “I would prefer to know victory.”

  “What makes you think you wouldn’t be victorious?”

  “Easy,” she said with a twinge of regret. “Love can be the only victor in this skirmish.”

  His eyes turned sad. “Love died with Alaina.”

  “Only if you let it.”

  He rolled off her and sat up. “It wasn’t by choice.”

  Sara rested her hand on his arm, and as usual, the strength of him permeated her flesh and sent shivers racing through her. “It is if you let it be.”

  He got to his feet. “You don’t understand. You’ve never loved.”

  Sara sat up. “Perhaps, but I’ve known emptiness.”

  Cullen hunched down beside her, his hand gliding up her neck to cup her cheek. “Then let me fill you.”

  How easy it would be to agree. She’d then know the joys of intimacy without the complications. But recently she had given it second thought and believed if she tasted intimacy with Cullen, it would produce more complications than she was able or willing to handle.

  He was a good man, and she had so wanted to find a good man to share her life with. Since that didn’t seem a possibility, she didn’t want to open herself to more disappointment.

  “That’s not a good idea,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked with a quick kiss.

  She took hold of his wrist. His wildly beating pulse quickly had hers matching his own, then he moved his hand away from her. “I’ve explained the best I could and we’ll leave it at that.”

  He didn’t mask his disappointment or resign himself to it. “We have two days yet.”

  “Uneventful days to be sure.”

  He stood, walked to his side of the campfire and stretched out on the blanket. “We shall see.”

  “You have more pressing matters to consider,” she reminded him. “You must act the good husband—”

  “I am trying,” he said, shaking his hands to the Heavens, “but I have a stubborn wife.”

  “A sensible wife,” she corrected with a sweet grin.

  “Not this time,” he argued.

  “I’m always sensible. You can count on me being sensible.”

  He turned to rest on his side. “Sensible is getting yourself stuck in an abbey for two years for refusing to obey your father, forcing a stranger to wed you so you could escape, painting pockmarks on my son to get him past the guards? And I have no doubt there is an array of other times your sensible actions were thought otherwise.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m more sensible than anyone else.”

  He laughed. “So that’s the way you explain your insensible actions?”

  “I have never made an insensible decision in my life. Not marrying a smelly fool was good common sense. Marrying a stranger who would place no demands on me and I could rid myself of was great common sense and a promise—”

  Sara stopped abruptly and Cullen sprung up, his handsome face contorted by the firelight, giving the impression that the devil had just risen from the fires of Hell.

  “Promise? Who did you promise what?”

  She hadn’t meant to mention the promise, not just yet at least. Besides, no one truly needed to know about it, it would serve no purpose.

  “I want an answer, Sara.”

  “I hadn’t planned to tell you this. I saw no reason to.”

  “I want to know,” he said sternly.

  His body grew rigid as if he braced for a blow, and Sara was certain her words would hit him hard, so she delivered them fast. “I promised Alaina I would keep her son safe.”

  Cullen jumped to his feet. “You spoke with Alaina and never planned to tell me about it? In God’s name why?”

  “As I said, I saw no reason. It would serve no purpose.”

  “You didn’t think I would want to hear what she said to you?”

  “And what would those words do for you? Bring you more suffering?”

  He shook a finger at her across the fire. “Regardless of what it brought me, I had the right to decide for myself. Now tell me what she said.” He shook his head.

  “And how in God’s name did you get to speak with her? You told me there were guards at the door. And why? Why did you see her?”

  “To promise her I would keep her son safe from harm if someday she ever wished to return for him.”

  Cullen’s eyes turned wide. “That’s why she had insisted Alexander was alive. She knew what you had done.”

  “That was all she knew, and she had agreed that she should know no more. If questioned for any reason, she’d be able to speak truthfully and never fear bringing harm to her son.�
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  “You didn’t tell her your name?”

  Sara shook her head. “I simply informed her that her son was safe and would remain so until she came to claim him.”

  “And Alaina said to you?”

  Sara hesitated.

  “Tell me. Please, I must know.”

  Feeling his ache as if it were her own, Sara nodded and spoke Alaina’s words. “She said, ‘I will return for my son.’”

  The impact of her words hit Cullen like an arrow to the heart and dropped him to his blanket. Sara stood and walked around the fire to join him. She sat beside him, her arm going around his slumped shoulders.

  “I had but a few moments with Alaina. My concern was that she knew her son would be safe. There was no time for more since I arranged for the guard and the sister who normally tended her to go on separate fool’s errands. The timing had to be perfect and I had to be gone before they returned. I couldn’t take the chance of being discovered there. After all, I was the one who buried the babe, and I didn’t want to cast doubt on the situation.”

  “Again you took a chance with your life, and this time for Alaina.”

  “It tore at my heart to think that the child’s mother would forever think her son dead. It wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t allow her to suffer when I had it in my power to ease her pain and give her hope of one day reuniting with him. It was the right thing to do.”

  Cullen took hold of her hand and squeezed tight. “You did right by my son and Alaina. I will do right by you.”

  “You have,” she assured him. “You wed me.”

  “But I haven’t protected you.”

  “I have no problem in seeing to my own safety.”

  “You have me now to see to that,” he said adamantly.

  “For now I do, and I appreciate it.”

  “I promise you that I will see you safe before I leave you.”

  Leave you.

  The two words rang loud and clear in her head. He would leave her, and once again she would be alone, and that was all right; after all, it had been their agreement. She couldn’t ask for more.

  Unfortunately, over the last few days she had grown accustomed to having a husband, and a good one at that. She had even allowed her mind to wander now and again, but only for a very short time, thinking on what it would be like if she went to America with Cullen and Alexander and was able to be a true wife and mother.

  It was a foolish dream, no more, and she didn’t linger long in the foolishness. It hurt much too much to spend time in such nonsense. Her destiny was here in Scotland, and his was in America. That was why she didn’t want this ruse to go any further. It would pain her too much to say good-bye. She preferred he remained a stranger, though she had grown to know him enough that he could never be a stranger to her.

  “I mean what I say,” Cullen said, squeezing her hand.

  She nodded, knowing he did, which was what caused her heart to hurt a little more. “I know and I thank you.”

  She attempted to stand, but he held her firm.

  “Stay,” he said softly.

  “I am tired and need sleep—”

  “Sleep with me.”

  Her eyes rounded.

  He shook his head. “I just want to hold you next to me.”

  He didn’t want to be alone, and neither did she.

  “Let me get my blanket,” she said.

  He stayed her with a soft touch. “No, stay, I’ll get it.”

  As soon as the blankets were settled, he took her in his arms and together they stretched out beside the fire, Sara closer to the warmth, since the air had chilled considerably, and Cullen’s arms tight around her.

  “Thank you for giving my Alaina peace,” he whispered in her ear, and gently kissed her temple.

  A response wasn’t necessary, and she didn’t know if she could speak if she wanted to. A lump had lodged in her throat, threatening tears if it remained as it was—a hurtful pain.

  She did what she had done since she was a child, chasing the pain away with fanciful dreams. Dreams could produce magic for her. She would think of wonderful things that she could do, and more often than not she had found a way of doing them, like learning to ride better than most men or crafting a special bow for herself.

  She had even dreamed of a good husband, and had gotten him, but just wasn’t able to keep him.

  The lump grew larger, and she quickly changed her thoughts. But Cullen somehow continued to invade her dreams, and soon she was envisioning a happy life with him and Alexander. The thoughts brought her such joy that she couldn’t chase them away. Besides, they refused to be ignored, so she gave them free rein and imagined sailing off to America with them.

  Every now and again Cullen would tighten his hold on her and mumble incoherently. She assumed he dreamed of Alaina and his son. It had to have torn his heart apart, being unable to save her, and unable to be there to protect his son. All he loved had been ripped away from him, and now she thought of him fighting to get back the most precious of gifts lovers can share—their child.

  No matter what it took, she would help him and his son to safety. It was the right thing to do.

  And she?

  She would have her dreams.

  Chapter 18

  Cullen’s sullen mood mirrored the gray skies, and try as he might, he couldn’t escape his brooding. He had barely spoken to Sara since rising a couple of hours ago, and once they took to the trail, he hadn’t said a word to her. She had tried to engage him in conversation, but he sat silent on his horse and she eventually gave up.

  He blamed his surly mood on his dream. He often dreamed of Alaina, and actually looked forward to those dreams where she seemed so alive, so real to the touch. He had expected to dream of her last night after what Sara told him, but instead he had dreamed of Sara.

  A rumble of thunder portrayed a measure of his grumbling anger. It seethed beneath the surface, ready to erupt, and yet he wasn’t certain who he was angry with.

  No, he told himself. That was a lie. He was angry with himself for betraying Alaina by dreaming of making love to Sara.

  He cringed at the betrayal and near swore beneath his breath at the fact that he had actually enjoyed loving Sara. She’d been so responsive, so giving, so honest in her desire for him.

  Could he say the same?

  That was what angered him the most—his desire for Sara. It felt stronger than he remembered it being for Alaina. How could that be? Had he simply gone too long without a woman?

  He mumbled incoherently, berating himself for believing his dream held any validity. He was a man in need of a woman, plain and simple.

  Cullen gave a quick glance to Sara, riding beside him. She was more of a beauty than he had first realized, but then, he hadn’t known her at all. Actually, he hadn’t wanted to know any woman. He was forced to get acquainted with Sara, and was grateful that he had.

  He smiled slowly, her fiery red curls springing out of control from her head, never obeying a pat or a tuck but simply doing as pleased and looking completely natural on her. And fitting her pale skin perfectly, while a smatter of freckles stained the bridge of her nose.

  Then there were her eyes, which had intrigued him from the start. At first he’d assumed the blue-green hue had gotten his attention, but it was so much more. Caught in the depths of her eyes was the essence of her character, so rich and vital that it refused to be disregarded or masked.

  He looked away, afraid his eyes would steal down along her body and make him face what he had tried to ignore—that he found her appealing. Tall, shapely, with curves and mounds he ached to explore and plunder.

  He shook his head.

  He needed a woman, he told himself again. That was the problem. He needed to satisfy his lust and be done with it. It would settle everything, and then he’d want Sara no more. She was simply available and convenient.

  He growled beneath his breath, the selfish thought disturbing him, and yet he was unable to rid himself of it.


  “Are you all right?’ she asked bluntly. “You’ve been mumbling and groaning since we left camp hours ago. Talk to me. Tell me what troubles you.”

  He near grinned, thinking of telling her how he’d like to yank her off her mare, take her to the ground, toss her skirts up and take her like a man too long deprived. A tumble between friends, no more.

  But she looked for more, and he couldn’t give it to her.

  He rubbed his stiff shoulder. “It’s nothing. I just woke in a dour mood.”

  “You want me to believe that?”

  “Believe what you want,” he snapped.

  She shrugged. “Have it your way and stay miserable. It makes for such pleasant company.” She gave her horse a nudge with her heel and moved a few feet in front of him.

  He cursed himself for being abrupt with her, but he was in no mood to discuss his mood. Besides, it wasn’t any of her business, and she had a way of getting people to reveal themselves through casual conversation. Before you knew it, you were confiding in her like a trusted friend, and he wasn’t about to share last night’s dream with her.

  The ground shook before thunder rumbled, and just as Cullen hurried to Sara, she turned wide eyes on him.

  “Riders approach,” she said.

  Her eyes followed his, darting around the area, searching for cover.

  Their only chance was to blend into the woods that bordered the trail on both sides and hope to get far enough within the forest so as not to be seen. Unfortunately, the trees were sparse upon entering, and he wasn’t sure they had enough time to reach the dense brush that would provide sufficient cover.

  “We need to hurry,” he said, urging her to go before him.

  He was grateful she didn’t argue, but that gratitude faded fast when he caught sight of the ragged looking group of men who rounded the bend in the road and, as soon as they spied them about to enter the woods, gave chase.

  “They’ve seen us,” he said, and gave her horse’s rump a sharp slap. “Get yourself to safety and hide.”

  Cullen drew his bow and an arrow from the sheath attached to the saddle. He needed to even the odds some. They were either robbers or mercenaries, and the latter were a dangerous bunch. They hired out to whoever would pay the highest fee and do whatever bidding they wished. No one was safe around them, man, woman, or child.