She circled around to make her way back to the cottage with enough plants to make a filling stew, when a voice called out in her head.
He comes!
Patience dropped the armful of plants and grabbed for her bow, but before she could reach for an arrow a voice echoed through the woods.
“Do not dare draw a weapon against me!”
Patience turned slowly, knowing who she was about to face, though she wondered if he was half beast for he spoke with a growl. She almost gasped when she laid eyes on him, and she was relieved that he stood a distance away from her, for there was no doubting that it was the Dark Dragon.
He wore a black metal helmet etched with symbols unknown to Patience. The helmet covered all but his eyes and the tip of his chin, making him appear all the more fearsome. Black leather armor covered his entire body, defining his thick-muscled frame, while hardened leather spikes ran along his shoulders and down his upper arms, warning all to keep their distance.
Patience had never liked the taste of fear and had always fought against it, but seeing this giant of a warrior encased in black made her tremble, for it was as if pure evil stood in front of her. And that evil had her sister.
With quivering limbs, she took a step forward. “When do I see my sister Heather?”
His voice rang with authority. “When I so choose.”
Patience held her tongue and her temper, though she wanted to lash out at him and scream that he had no right to keep her sister. But her warrior side warned against such a foolish response.
“Two days and you and your husband are to leave this place,” he commanded.
She did not bother to ask or else, for she knew if they did not obey his ghost warriors would see that they did.
“Do not dare defy me, Patience.” He turned and walked off, consuming the shadows that embraced him.
Patience stood staring after him, her body trembling more than before. He had said little, but had spoken volumes. His visit had one purpose... to warn her against disobeying him. The problem was that she was never good at being obedient, but then she had never met a warrior that made her quiver with fear.
With shaking hands, she gathered up the plants she had dropped and made her way back to the cottage, her mind on her sister. How was sweet, kind Heather dealing with such a menacing man? She could only imagine the fear Heather must feel. She had to see her. She had to know that she had not been harmed. Once she saw that for herself, then she could concentrate on the obvious... how to combat such a formidable warrior?
She reached the cottage as the first drop of rain splashed on the ground. The door sat open and she entered, though paid little attention to the fine job Hunter had done of making the place habitable. She dropped the plants on the table and stared at her husband.
“What is wrong?” he asked concerned by how pale his wife was.
“I met the Dark Dragon.”
Thunder rolled over the land with her announcement and Hunter hurried to close and latch the door against the arriving storm, then went to his wife, taking her in his arms.
Patience latched onto her husband’s strong arms. “He is more than I imagined.”
“So I have heard.”
“He came to warn me not to defy him,” she said his snarling voice ringing in her head. “He sounds more like a beast than a man.” She turned sorrowful eyes on him. “How do I rescue my sister from a beast?”
“With great patience and care.”
Patience stepped away from him, shaking her head. “How can I be patient when my sister remains the captive of that monster?” She shook her head again and answered her own question. “I have no choice just as the Dark Dragon said, and he made sure to let me know that.”
“The more you know of your enemy, the more power you amass against him. You will be ready when the time comes.”
Hunter was right and that thought calmed her some. The Dark Dragon may have had a message for her, but in return he had given her a glimpse of the man—and he was just a man—the one she would battle to get her sister back.
“He also warned that we were to stay here no more than two days.”
Hunter rubbed his chin. “I wonder why two days. Will it take him that long to rid his land of the mercenaries?” Hunter shook his head. “That does not seem likely. It is known that he is quick and deadly in his pursuit of those who wrong him.” The corners of his mouth turned up some as he pointed to the plants on the table. “This is what you hunted?”
“I was warned against hurting Elspet’s forest family,” she said, slipping off her bow and cache of arrows to hang on the peg. Her sword followed. “It is called weed stew.”
“Sounds pleasant enough,” he said with a laugh.
“Do not be so quick to judge,” she scolded playfully, glad for the diversion from her troubled thoughts, and then told him of the origin of the stew.
As usual conversation flowed smoothly between them, while the storm outside raged.
Once the plants were ready to cook, Patience looked around the room for a crock or cauldron.
Hunter found one tucked in with the baskets. “I will take it out to clean and fill with rainwater.”
Patience shook her head, grabbed the cauldron, and snickered, though with a smile. “Let me. I would not want to tire you after all the cleaning you have done.”
“True, after all, you will want me well-rested when you beg me to make love to you tonight.”
That wiped the smile off her face and had her hurrying out the door. They were alone. They could make love. Why had she not given that a thought? Was she afraid to? Or was she afraid once she made love with him, she would hunger for more?
The pelting rain reminded her of her task and she hurried to clean the cauldron with some of the discarded leaves from the plants.
The attack came quickly, knocking her off her feet. She reached for the dagger at her waist, but it was not there. She had left it on the table in the cottage. She was grabbed before she could scramble to her feet, but she managed to give her attacker enough of a punch to send him flying away from her, but not keep him from returning. At least, she was on her feet when he did and she bent and swerved to stay out of his reach until she could get in a good position to take him down permanently.
The rain slashed viciously at them and the darkening sky did not help and was probably the reason she did not see the second attacker coming. In the next instant, she was grabbed and a knife put at her throat. Just then, the cottage door flew open and Hunter stepped out.
Rage turned his blue eyes molten blue as he took in the scene in front of him.
“Your brother says it is time he finished what he started,” screamed the one who held her. “Then it is your wife’s turn. Of course, we will have fun with her before we kill her. Greer wants to take no chance that your randy ways has already taken root in her belly.”
With more calm than his blazing eyes betrayed, Hunter said, “Let her go, Bruin, and I will kill you fast.”
Bruin laughed. “Give him a good beating, Leith, and then I will slice his throat and watch him die slowly as Greer has instructed.”
Leith did not hesitate, he charged Hunter.
Patience did not hesitate either. With Bruin distracted by the two men fighting, it gave her an advantage and she took it. She threw her head back with force, connecting with his nose. He howled and released her abruptly.
Blood poured like an overflowing river from his nose and Patience did not wait, she continued her attack.
Not waiting for Leith to reach him, Hunter let out an angry roar and launched himself at him. One solid blow from Hunter and Leith hit the ground, though he was back on his feet fast enough. Fists flew, though Leith landed not one blow. Blood not only poured from his mouth but his nose as well and his eye was beginning to swell.
Leith stumbled back from another vicious blow and spit blood from his mouth. “And here I thought the only thing you were good at was poking a woman.”
“And here
I thought you could fight,” Hunter shot back.
Leith snarled with fury and shouted, “Bruin, it is time for this bastard to die.”
“Then leave him to me and you see to the woman and make sure she’s ready for me to have a go at her while her husband lies dying. I want it to be the last thing he sees before the devil claims him,” Bruin said, laughing as he walked over to Leith.
Hunter shot a glance to his wife and saw how exhausted she was from defending herself, yet she stood strong and proud, letting him know she would continue to fight, and his rage soared. He released a roar that shook the forest trees and sent a tremble through Patience.
She froze, shocked as she watched Hunter advance on the two men with such speed and such rage that neither saw him until it was too late. With a vicious kick to the knee and a snap of the other’s neck, Patience watched Bruin drop in agony to the ground and Leith fall over dead.
Hunter then grabbed Bruin by the throat, his fingers digging deep and, with malice so strong in his tone it made her shiver, he said, “You dare threaten my wife and think you will not suffer for it?”
Bruin’s eyes bulged from his face. “You are more like your brother than I thought.”
“Then you know this will not end well for you,” Hunter said.
“Hunter,” Patience said, approaching him.
He snapped his head to the side, his blue eyes heated with such fury that she took several steps back away from him.
“Go into the cottage,” Hunter ordered sternly.
“He may have information that could be useful.”
“NOW!” he shouted and Patience went to argue. “I will not tell you again. GO!”
Fury gripped Patience like never before and if she did not put distance between them, she would lash out at him, and now was not the time. Bruin had to be dealt with and permanently. With fiery anger raging through her, she stomped past him and into the cottage.
Bruin choked on his words as he glared at Hunter. “Greer will see you dead.”
“Not if I see him dead first.” Hunter punched Bruin so hard that his head bounced to the side, stunning him and giving Hunter enough time to snatch the man’s dirk from the ground and place the blade snugly against his neck. “Give me the answers I seek and I will kill you fast, otherwise—I will enjoy making you suffer.”
Bruin laughed, blood spilling from the side of his mouth and the rain washing it away. “You are just like your brother—heartless.”
Hunter pressed the dirk hard enough to his throat that blood oozed from the edge of the blade, but rainwater did not wash it away since Hunter hovered over him, the raindrops splattering against his back. “Then you know I will do as I say... the choice is yours.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Patience stalked the front of the fireplace, a sizzle being heard now and again as the rainwater dripped off her and hit the stones lining the hearth. She was angry with herself. Why had she obeyed his demand that she retreat to the cottage? This was his fight; his family. She shook her head. She was his family now and family did not desert in time of need.
She groaned, annoyed, and kept up her quick pacing. This was something that involved his brother and he needed to see to it, just as she wanted no interference when it came to rescuing Heather. And that was what made her wait, though impatiently.
Her breath caught as the door flung open and Hunter entered, the rain following him in, lashing out at him as he shoved the door closed against it and secured the latch. When he turned, she almost gasped at the scowl that marred his usual handsome features. This was not the husband she had grown accustomed to and as he came around the table toward her, she braced herself, her shoulders squaring and her chin turning up.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hand going to a slight bruise on her cheek, his finger skimming it so faintly that it sent a quiver through her body. He mumbled several oaths before resting his brow to hers and slipping his arm around her waist. “I am sorry you had to suffer at Bruin’s hands.”
Concern was heavy in his voice and though his touch was light and caring, she could see his controlled rage in his taut muscles. His wet shirt clung to them, refusing to let go, and she suddenly got the same urge. She threw her arms around him, pressing her body so hard against his that water dripped down between them.
His arms tightened around her, relieved to have her in them. His heart had crashed against his chest when he had seen Bruin holding the dirk to her throat. The thought of losing her when he had just found her, just discovered he was falling in love with her had a rage like none other rise up in him. He knew then and there he would kill both men, nothing would stop him... and it hadn’t.
Her shiver rippled over him and he silently cursed before easing her away from him most reluctantly. “You need to get out of those wet garments.” He did not wait for her response. He simply began unwrapping her plaid.
“As do you,” she said, her hands going to divest him of his clothes.
He tried to keep his thoughts focused. He needed to see that she got dry and make certain neither man had hurt her, but his loins had another idea. With every inch of her exposed flesh, he grew harder and harder and when she was fully naked he knew it would be almost impossible to keep his hands off her.
Their first joining should not be fueled by the rage of battle and yet the need to touch her, taste her, drive deep inside her was all but impossible to ignore or contain.
Patience was too busy trying to control the passion that suddenly took root in her and grew with every piece of garment she practically tore off him. She told herself they had to talk. She wanted to find out what, if anything, Bruin had told him, though it became less important the more garments she stripped off her husband.
It took all the willpower he possessed to step away from her. “Dry yourself and get in bed and get warm.”
Patience stared at him, her mouth agape, then her temper took hold. “Truly, that is what you say to me when I stand in front of you naked?”
“You are wet.”
“In more ways than one.”
“You play with fire and will get burned if not careful,” he warned.
“One can only hope.”
Hunter held on to his mounting passion by a thread. “You are bruised from the beating you took and need to rest.”
“From what I see you appear to be up for the job.” She gave a nod to his manhood that jutted out from a patch of dark hair, hard and thick. “Though, your stamina is no match for mine.”
Hunter smiled and walked over to her, though he did not touch her. “Are you begging me to make love to you?”
“Never would I beg you to make love to me.”
“Never say never, mo chridhe,” he warned with a husky whisper.
“I do not beg,” she reiterated.
He laughed softly. “Do not make me prove you wrong.”
“Are you challenging me?”
“Are you asking me to make love to you?”
Her chin went up another notch. “Our vows do need consummating.”
“So you join with me out of duty.”
“Duty, curiosity...” She shrugged.
He kept his eyes on her as he brought his hand up to rest one finger at the bottom of her neck, then slowly ran it down her chest and around one breast, circling round and round, drawing ever closer to her nipple that had already hardened to a tight nub.
“You forgot hunger, urge, craving,” —he lowered his lips close to hers— “passion.” His finger circled her nipple lightly, then gave it a gentle squeeze.
She gasped, not only at his touch, but at the startling sensation that settled between her legs and refused to let go.
“Do you want me to make love to you?”
She wanted to scream, aye, and hurry before I come without knowing the joy of you inside me, but something stopped her. She quickly turned her back to him, that sense of vulnerability rearing its head and causing her to hesitate.
She may have only taken a step a
way from him, but Hunter sensed it a far greater distance and he did not hesitate. He stepped behind her, slipping his arm around her waist and moving to rest his naked body against hers.
He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “It is not out of duty or curiosity or even lust that I want to make love to you.” He turned her around slowly, his arm remaining around her waist. He brushed his lips over hers, then said, “It is because I have fallen in love with you.”
Her gasp stuck in her throat this time and for a moment she felt robbed of breath.
“And I hope in time, you will come to love me as well.”
She stared speechless at him, her heart pounding madly in her chest and while in her mind she shouted I do love you, she could not bring herself to say it... not yet. Instead, she said, “Make love to me, husband.”
“You will be saying that to me often, mo chridhe, once I do,” he said and scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
Hunter lay on his side beside her, the bed barely big enough for them both, but then he wanted no distance between them, not now, not ever.
He ran his hand down along her body, loving the feel of her. She was slimmer than most women he had been with and her muscles taut in spots where other women were soft. Her hips had a luscious curve to them and her backside rounded nicely, the flesh firm. And her skin was the smoothest he had ever touched.
Ever since that day in the stream, he had ached to touch all of her, to explore to his and to her pleasure. And that was what he intended to do, take his time and explore.
Patience loved when he touched her, but even more so now that she was naked. His fingers faintly traced over every part of her like a feather lightly skimming her body. She wanted to linger in every delicious moment, never having felt anything so pleasurable. And while she had the urge to touch him, she was much too mesmerized by his loving touch to move.
Highlander's Rebellious Love Page 18
