Loved By a Warrior

by Donna Fletcher

  “And I will keep any secret you, my friend, wish to share,” he said.

  When a glint of a tear appeared in the corner of her eye, he wanted to take hold of her and cradle her in his arms. But again he knew it was not a wise thing to do.

  “Thank you,” she said in a bare whisper.

  She closed her eyes after that, and he wrapped his extra plaid around himself and settled a few feet behind her on the floor to sleep. As tired as he was, sleep eluded him for too long, his mind rushing with chaotic thoughts.

  He had decided at the onset that he would take Tara home with him. She needed a place where people would treat her kindly, and he believed his village would accept her, curse and all. But after hearing her story about the cook, he wondered if her presence would cause problems. Wagging tongues could do a rash of harm, and if anyone knew . . .

  Why did anyone have to know?

  The question rang loudly through his thoughts. No one need know her history. He need only tell them that he had rescued her from robbers, and she in turn asked for his help. He could concoct a good tale that would have the village wanting to protect her. And perhaps with the curse ignored and fear expelled, Tara would be able to have friends and perhaps find love.

  Of course, he would have to be a good man. One who would protect her and treat her well, and Reeve would make certain of it. He wouldn’t let just any man trail after Tara. After all, he was the one who found her and helped her. It was his duty now to see her safe.

  With that satisfying thought in mind, Reeve finally fell asleep.

  Reeve wiggled his nose, trying to get whatever caused the pesky tickle off. Though he had to admit there was a nice scent to it, sweet with a touch of pine. He slowly opened his eyes and as he did he saw another pair of eyes opening as well.

  Both pairs of eyes shot wide open, and Reeve realized that he and Tara had rolled toward each other sometime in the night, and he had wrapped himself around her. She, in turn, had snuggled into his arms, and there they rested, nose to nose.

  When she had finally realized the same, she scrambled to get away from him, but her cloak and his plaid had become entwined, and there was no getting out of it.

  “We can’t be this close,” she pleaded.

  “I have not died yet,” he said with a teasing laugh.

  “It is not funny. You are in danger being this close to me.”

  “Why? If you help me to understand where the danger comes from, perhaps I can help you.”

  “You can’t help,” she said adamantly. “Why can’t you just believe me and let it be?”

  “Because it makes no sense,” he said, realizing that when she had struggled to free herself, she had inadvertently forced her body closer against his, and she fit snugly against his suddenly growing mound. “You’re right; this isn’t a good time for this discussion.”

  He hoped she didn’t feel him springing to life against her, and so he hurried to untangle them. She helped. Their hands and arms wound around each other as they tried desperately to disengage themselves.

  When it was done, they rushed to separate, each taking a deep breath of relief when finally apart.

  “I’ll see if the snow stopped,” Reeve said, needing a shot of brisk, cold air right now.

  He took an even deeper breath once outside. He was relieved to see that the snow must have stopped early in the night, only a few inches having covered the ground. They could continue their journey home.

  He entered the cottage, glad that the cold air had tamed his desire and pleased that they could be on their way.

  “Can we leave?” she asked with concern, before he had a chance to speak.

  He nodded and smiled. “Only a few inches, though there are drifts. We can leave now, or I can hunt, and we can eat then—”

  “I’m not hungry,” she said, interrupting him. “Perhaps later, unless, of course, you’re hungry?”

  “I can wait,” he said, preferring to get started as well.

  Reeve saw to putting out the fire while Tara gathered her things and once more hung her bundle on her back. They were on the road again in no time.

  There wasn’t much chance for chatter, focus was essential. There was no telling what was hiding beneath the fallen snow. More than once, Tara almost fell from her boots catching on a hidden rock or fallen branch.

  Reeve had been quick to grab her arm and steady her. She didn’t object, but then there was no need for him to wrap her in his arms as he had done in the snowstorm. And he thought what a shame. He actually wouldn’t mind holding her again.

  Where had that thought come from?

  Sure, she had felt good in his arms. Damn good.

  He shook his head. He didn’t need to be thinking about this.

  “Something wrong?” she asked from behind him.

  “Nothing,” he said, not turning around.

  “You shook your head.”

  “Clearing it,” he said truthfully.

  Silence followed, and Reeve thought the matter settled until. . .

  “Are you having second thoughts about helping me?’

  He stopped abruptly and turned around, causing her to come to a similar abrupt stop though nearly on top of him.

  “That wasn’t a thought in my head,” he answered honestly.

  “Then what troubled you?”

  “Too many thoughts.”

  “I suffer from the same affliction myself,” she said.

  “Then you know it takes a good shake to rid yourself of them.”

  “A chore I do quite regularly.”

  “Good, then we understand each other better than most,” he said, finding more things in common with her and also realizing that her lips were ripe for kissing. Slightly plump and moist, having worried at both with her teeth as they had spoken.

  Damn, but he wanted to kiss her, and when she scurried back away from him, he realized that his desire to do just that must have shown in his eyes.

  “We’d best keep walking,” she said.

  He nodded, turned, and did just that. He silently berated himself for his foolish thought. Whatever had he been thinking? She certainly wouldn’t be receptive to a kiss, and what if this myth was true?

  Now he truly intended to berate himself. He never believed in foolish nonsense. It was usually ignorant people saying ignorant things that caused problems. He had used his brawn to settle such matters. And it had never failed, people always surrendered to strength.

  “Reeve!”

  He turned at her scream and lunged for her, grabbing hold of her hand just as she went over the side of an incline, her momentum pulling him along with her. They slid down the steep slope on their stomachs, facing each other, picking up speed as they went. Reeve gripped her hand tightly, letting her know there was no chance of her slipping away from him. She clung just as tightly to him, and for a sheer moment, it felt as if their hands melded together as one.

  With a thud, a whack, and a bump, they came to rest at the bottom of the hill. Reeve landed on top of her, their limbs all tangled.

  “Are you all right?” he asked before trying to move.

  She turned her face, and having no choice, she rested her cheek against his. “I believe so.”

  Her skin was silky soft and lightly flushed, and he liked the feel of it pressed to his. “We need to slowly untangle ourselves and make certain there are no severe injuries.”

  She gave a brief nod and winced.

  “Something pains you?” he asked, concerned.

  “My arm is twisted beneath me, and it’s beginning to hurt.”

  Reeve slowly untangled his one arm from beneath her and eased his legs from around hers before gently moving himself off her to stand and give a stretch. Ascertaining that he had no injuries, he was quick to drop down on his haunches to help her.

  She sighed. “With you off me, I feel much better.”

  Reeve grabbed at his chest and grinned. “You are the only woman who finds relief in me not being on top of her.”

/>   Tara laughed and struggled to sit up. Reeve was quick to help her, his hand slipping behind to rest at her back. Oddly enough, she didn’t protest, though Reeve let his hand fall away as soon as he sat her up.

  “That is because I am different from all the women you have known,” she said with a wide smile.

  When she smiled, her lavender eyes darkened to a sultry purple, and with her cheeks flushed, she was far prettier than Reeve had first believed. And yes, she was right. She was different. He wasn’t quite sure how, but she was different.

  “Your arm?” he asked, seeing how she cradled it.

  “Just sore, nothing more,” she assured him moving it up and down so that he could judge for himself.

  He instinctively reached out to help her stand when her eyes opened wide, warning him not to touch. So they were back to that again, and he shook his head. “This will not do.” And with that, his hands went to her waist, and he brought her to her feet in one gentle swing.

  His hands remained firm at her waist as he spoke. “There is no way I can keep my hands off you.”

  “What?” she asked, startled.

  “Not in an intimate sense,” he corrected, and damned if images of him touching her intimately didn’t pop into his head. He shook the vivid scenes away before they could do more damage, and explained, “I cannot stop myself from reaching out and helping you when you need it. It’s simple instinct. And evidently you wish my help since you called my name when in trouble. So there will be no telling me that I cannot touch you or warning me with that evil eye look. I will be touching you, so get used to it.”

  Tara glared at him wide-eyed and wide-mouthed.

  Reeve glared right back, folding his arms across his chest.

  “You’re placing yourself in danger,” she said.

  Reeve looked himself up and down. “I look just fine. You, on the other hand,” he said, pointing his finger at her, “have had a couple of close calls, which I”—he thumped his chest—“saved you from. And so far, I am still standing, as you can plainly see. I am not deader than dead. I am alive and well.”

  “You are,” she said as though it were a miracle.

  “Perhaps the curse is gone,” he suggested.

  “I doubt that.”

  “Then why am I still alive?”

  Tara shook her head. “I don’t know, but I fear taking chances with your life.”

  “It isn’t you taking the chance. It is me. I chose to help you; therefore, whatever happens is my own fault.”

  “But I have warned you—”

  “True, you have, and still I choose to help you,” he said. “So the consequences are of my own making.”

  She worried at her lower lip, and Reeve watched it plump further to life. Damn, but he was in need of a woman. That was the problem; he had been too long without one. Who was he kidding? It had been only three days since he had coupled with a very willing widow who had provided him with water when he had stopped at her croft, then suggested he share supper with her until finally she had invited him into her bed. They had had a good time, and when he left, after a delicious morning romp in her bed, they had both been smiling.

  Why had he suddenly begun to think of intimacy with Tara? The answer came as fast as the question. When he had held her against him and she had fit so perfectly. With such a precise fit, he couldn’t help but wonder if they were perfectly sized in other ways.

  “A simple helping hand, that’s all,” she clarified.

  “What else would there be?” he asked innocently.

  “I’m not an ignorant woman, Reeve. I felt you grow hard against me this morning. I saw the look of desire in your eyes when we spoke, and I see how you focus on my lips. Wondering how a kiss would taste?”

  He saw no reason to deny the truth. “The thought did cross my mind.”

  “Thank you for being honest. It is good to know that I was not wrong about you being a moral man. With that said, I am sure I have nothing to worry about. You will touch me only when I am in need of help.”

  “Agreed,” he said. “Just remember, I will be there to help you with all your needs.”

  Chapter 4

  Tara concentrated on keeping a steady pace behind Reeve even though her ankle pained her. She probably gave it a good twist in the fall, and walking on it wasn’t helping. If she alerted Reeve to her injury, he would surely stop and refuse to continue until her ankle healed. And there was no telling how long that would take.

  She also knew it was not wise to linger with this man. She had been well aware that thoughts of coupling with her had danced in his head. She had seen the desire in his eyes more than once and had felt it when she woke wrapped in his arms.

  It had surprised her, but what surprised her more was that she had stirrings of desire herself. A tiny spark had tickled her dormant passion, and she had briefly felt the urge to couple. Not that she had ever coupled with a man before.

  She had truly loved Rory, her first love, and had looked forward to becoming his wife. Unfortunately he died on the day they were to wed. An arranged marriage followed six months later, and she had not met Luag until the day of the wedding. She had not been attracted to him; though not a bad-looking man, she simply didn’t favor him. She had actually worried over intimacy with him. She needn’t have since he died right after speaking his vows.

  The memory sent a shiver through her and caused concern, and for a good reason. She was attracted to Reeve. That he was a handsome man was undeniable, but it wasn’t entirely his good features that attracted her. What appealed most was that he had called himself her friend. It had been so very long since she had had a friend.

  Tears had threatened when he had told her that he was her friend, and she could count on him, but she wouldn’t embarrass herself and let them spill. She had fought to keep them at bay. It was at that moment he had stolen a piece of her heart, or she had simply given it to him . . . her friend.

  While she would love their friendship to continue, she knew it would be unwise. Her attraction to him and his obvious desire for her could only prove fatal. It was better that he leave her with the clan he felt best suited her situation and she never see him again.

  A pang of regret stabbed at her heart, but she ignored it. Disappointment had been her constant companion. And she had grown accustomed to it. It would do no good to dwell when she knew her decision was for the best. She would make a new life for herself, solitary though it might be. At least she would finally be at peace.

  It was late morning when they finally stopped and Reeve suggested she have a rest while he hunted for food. She quickly agreed, hoping the respite would help her throbbing ankle. She waited to examine it until he disappeared beyond a thicket of bushes, and she winced while struggling to get her boot off and cringed when she saw how it had swollen considerably.

  She didn’t remove her wool stocking to have a peek. She immediately slipped her boot back on though with much discomfort; and there it would stay until the swelling went down.

  A fire needed to be started to cook whatever game Reeve caught. She didn’t hesitate. She got to her feet and ignored the pain that rippled through her ankle. This was not going to be easy, but when had her life ever been easy. Just like so many other times, she had no choice. She would not cause them to linger, placing them in more peril. She hobbled around collecting sticks and fallen branches and went to work on starting a fire.

  She was pleased with her efforts, Reeve returning to find a fire and spit ready to use.

  “You did well,” he said, taking the already skinned and cleaned rabbit and placing it on the pit stick to cook. “You’ve saved us time. If we can keep a steady pace, we can reach my friend’s before nightfall. Then three more days, and we’ll reach our destination.”

  That brought a smile to her face. Pain or no pain, she had to keep pace with Reeve. She could rest when they reached the croft; and hopefully the swelling would be down by morning and the pain diminished.

  Excited at the thought
of finally starting anew, she asked, “Can you tell me about the clan where I will make my new home?”

  “It would be a good idea for us to discuss that now.”

  “You are sure they will accept me?” Tara asked apprehensively.

  “I haven’t a doubt,” he said.

  “You know them well then?”

  “Very much so,” he said with a nod.

  “They are friends of your clan?”

  Reeve grinned. “Actually, you’ll be making your home with my clan.”

  Shock and a spark of anger had Tara jumping to her feet. A stabbing-hot pain shot through her ankle, and her response was instinctive. She let out a yell and then sunk, like a stone thrown into a river, to the ground.

  Reeve was at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said stubbornly through gritted teeth.

  “You’re in pain,” he said. “You were hurt in the fall, weren’t you?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “How dare you—”

  “Show me the injury,” he demanded.

  “No,” Tara said, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

  Reeve leaned his face so close to hers that their noses touched. “Tell me, or I will find it myself.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged.

  “Do you truly believe that?”

  Tara glared at him.

  “Show me, or I will begin to touch you, starting from the top and working my way down.”

  If he had intended to work from the bottom up, she would not have considered capitulating. And if that didn’t annoy her enough, then her traitorous body certainly did, tingling at the mere thought of his exploring touch.

  His hands reached out, and she quickly grabbed hold of them. “My ankle.”

  She released his hands and raised the hem of her dress, knowing he would do so if she didn’t. It was easy to see which ankle was injured, and he gently took hold of her leg. He shook his head, saying nothing. He then attempted to ease the boot past the swelling, and she winced.