Bearing It All

by Vonnie Davis

  He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit it before he soothed it with his tongue. “I dinna open me heart easily, but with ye I suspect I already have.” He covered her lips with his and kissed her like he never thought possible to kiss a woman. She melted against him, fisted her fingers in his hair, and fried every synapse in his brain. And ’twas all clear. So clear it shook him to his alpha core. He kent he would kill for her. Or take the bullet so she would live.

  Anisa trembled with desire and panic. She wanted this man, not just sexually, but in a permanent way, which was totally strange for her. With everything she had hanging over her head—all the danger she was in—she feared the growing condition of her heart even more. Dear God, she was falling into serious lust or a case of petite-love. Their renewed acquaintance was too soon for real and lasting love.

  His large hands framed the top of her head. “I want to make love to ye in the worst kind of way. But I want ye to want it, too. We’re going to be snowed in for several days. Let’s talk, get to really know each other as if we were dating.”

  “That would be nice. I do recall you as being un homme d’honneur.”

  Ronan laughed and hugged her. “An honorable man? Me brothers and cousins would tell ye I can be overbearing at times. I dinna ken that’s right, but if ’tis, I dinna want to be that way with ye. This may make me sound like some silly sod from a romance book, but ye make me want to be a better man. And isna that strange in so short a time? I just ken I dinna want to hurt ye in any way.”

  He kissed her in a sensitive spot under her ear and she trembled. “I’m going out to wash our dishes now. Cover up and take a wee nap to allow yer shin to heal.” He kissed her again and she couldn’t say a word.

  He rolled out of bed, pulled the covers over her shoulders, and closed the heavy drapes, darkening the room, before he exited the alcove.

  To calm herself, she focused on why the Highlands had always fascinated her. For some people, it was the Riviera or Venice. Her girlfriends at college dreamed of going to New York City or Texas to ride horses on a ranch. However, it was the rugged part of Scotland that called to her. There was a mysticism about it, which was so contradictory to her studied world of rigid facts and figures. She’d read many books about the history and geography of the Highlands. Pored over them so well, she knew where Mathe Bay was located when Ronan had mentioned it as he’d introduced himself.

  He sang what she figured were some Scottish folk songs while he did the dishes. A soothing sound that soon relaxed her and settled her to sleep.

  The odor of baked chicken filled the cabin as she woke. She twisted the knob on the light on the nightstand and crawled out of bed. The drapes quivered slightly as the winds howled outside. A shiver skittered over her skin. Reaching for her backpack, she removed clean clothing. After changing her underwear, slipping into a navy turtleneck and her jeans, she tugged on warm stockings.

  Her attention slid to Ronan’s bookshelves. He must be a voracious reader. Many books were worn and some barely touched. He had a wide variety: Robert Ludlum’s Bourne series, Ian Fleming’s 007 books, Sherlock Holmes, many volumes by James Patterson, the Navajo series by Tony Hillerman, Scottish fairy and folk tales, Scottish clans, British and American history.

  She pulled down a book by James Patterson and the one on Scottish fairy and folk tales. Sitting near the fire and getting engrossed in a good story might keep her mind off her ineptness that had landed her in this present situation.

  How arrogant she’d been, thinking she’d been so smart, so careful in planning her escape. Her nerves were near the fraying point and her raised heart rate pounded in her ears as she worked or pretended to work her last day at ICAT. Taking her time, she investigated the drone for tracking devices and had, in fact, found and removed three that weren’t supposed to be there.

  As the hours slowly ticked by, she’d worked hard at keeping to her regular routine, smiling, and responding at the correct times to coworkers’ remarks, even though she wanted to crawl out of her skin. But never once had she thought about checking her flight suit or helmet for GPS tails. She should have. With all the training she’d been through, she should have.

  But, in the interim, she was having such a hard time believing what they were doing to her. She got along well with everyone at work. Why? Why had they chosen her to betray, to put in such a terrible situation? It was a question she had asked herself over and over—with no answer to be found.

  Now the coalition, both the bad and the good members, knew where she was, or close to the actual vicinity. Her best bet would be to pack up and leave. But with her having no additional tracking devices to locate her, how would they know she’d moved on? The last ping of the devices would show the vicinity of this cabin. How would her leaving keep Ronan safe? Because that’s what she wanted—more than anything—to make sure this fantastic man stayed out of danger and alive.

  She shuffled into the larger part of the cabin, and the clothes they’d laundered were hanging on hangers, stuck here and there around the big room to dry. Ronan was stretched out on the sofa and lowered the novel he was reading. “Ye dinna listen to orders very well, do ye?”

  She bristled and tightened her grasp on the two books she held. “Orders? I don’t recall hearing any orders from a superior officer.”

  She stomped past the sofa to the chair by the fireplace. Ronan’s hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. “When I told ye to take a nap, I was thinking of several hours. Not,” he glanced at his watch, “fifty minutes. I meant a long nap fer yer own good. Ye’ve had a rough few days. I’m only trying to keep ye safe, to help ye recuperate. Scottish men take care of their women.”

  “Their women? Since when have I become your woman?” Mon Dieu. He was taking this macho bit a little too far.

  His one eyebrow arched and a slow sexy smile spread as he gently tugged her a step closer. He locked his gaze on hers, turned her hand, and pressed a long kiss to her palm. The tip of his tongue touched her skin. Her eyelids fluttered shut for an instant and her nipples peaked. Well, there was that. She refused to think about how damp her thong just got. This man was too damn sexy for her to keep her wits about her. She eased her hand away. Perhaps a change in topic was in order.

  “There are too many thoughts running through my mind to take a nap in the middle of the day. I thought maybe if I mentally crawled into a book, I could forget some of them for a while.”

  “Aye. There’s nothing like a good book to make ye escape yer troubles or a bad mood. Do ye want a blanket to snuggle under? The wind is bitching and screeching at the Highlands today, like a fishwife pissed at her man.”

  He stood and brought over the quilt she’d snuggled under last night. He spread it over her torso and tucked it under her feet. “Do ye have a fondness fer hot chocolate? I was about to make a cup. ’Tis just as easy to make two.”

  “Sounds lovely.” She glanced out the window. “The snow is blowing so hard, I can’t distinguish your truck. In fact, I can barely see the end of the porch.”

  Ronan moved around the small kitchen. “Aye. ’Tis a low-visibility day. I love storms like this.” He glanced out the window over the sink. “One feels like the Highlands are hugging ye with their massive strength, cocooning ye from the outside world, busy and loud place that ’tis. I’d be happy living here, but I’m needed at the lodge to help the family.” He sidestepped to the stove and began stirring.

  “How close are your nearest neighbors?”

  “There was an old man who had a cabin a mile to the north. Byrll could see smoke rising from me chimney and come down for a wee nip and a game of checkers or chess.” Ronan glanced at her with an ornery expression. “Truth be told, we’d get into the whisky pretty good. God, that man could tell some raunchy jokes. He’d sleep on the sofa and I’d make us breakfast before he’d start back home. He died last year and willed me his land. Now, I’m roughly four miles away from neighbors in all directions up here. The Highlands encompasses a huge area, beautif
ul, strong, and timeless.” He spoke of the area with love and pride.

  “Do you always come up here alone?” Having a place like this to go and unwind would be nice, she figured.

  “Me brothers used to come along sometimes, but now that they’re married, they’d sooner be with their wives. Me cousin, the one who’s a police detective, Kendric Matheson, comes along once in a while depending on his caseload.” He poured dark liquid into two mugs. “Marshmallows or whipped crème?”

  “Marshmallows would be great. I prefer my whipped crème on men.” Her mouth gaped open in embarrassment at the remark that had just slipped out.

  On the other hand, his mouth clamped shut while his eyes popped wide.

  “Oh, Ronan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “Dinna say another word. I’ll have to put the mugs on a tray to carry them over. Me hands are trembling too hard to carry them the normal way. Fook, woman, would ye really…?”

  “Spray it on and then lick it off?” Just to rattle him some more, because she knew he’d do the same to her if he got the chance, she gave his body a slow sweep of her eyes and smiled. “Oh, hell, yeah. Makes my tongue itch just thinking about it.”

  The mugs rattled on the tray.

  “Fokin’ hell, ye would drive a man to madness.”

  She took a mug off the tray and batted her eyes. “And I’d do it slowly, too.”

  His eyes pinched shut. “Do not give me any more to fantasize about. Please, woman, have mercy.” He pivoted and stepped toward the sofa.

  “A scoop of ice cream in the navel is always nice to lick out, too. Especially on a hot day when it melts quickly. It’s a good thing you don’t have ice cream with you.”

  His head whipped around and he stared at the refrigerator’s freezer.

  Chapter 6

  Oh crap, she may have just kicked a sleeping bear. Maybe she’d gone too far with her teasing. While she’d never done any of those things herself, her three college roommates had bragged and told many an erotic story, trying their best to embarrass the math geek. The joke was on them, though, for she was no virgin. She’d just never felt the need to leave her bookish world to brag about it.

  As devoted as she was to her military career, not once had Anisa ever thought she’d feel strongly enough about a man to try sexual play with him. Yet here sat one fine specimen on the edge of the sofa, coiled like a wild beast, ready to strike. He was all scowls and testosterone and, even from across the room, the waves of his sexual tension pulled at her like tentacles of pure lust.

  His eyes narrowed on her. “Dinna tease a man whose blood is running hot in his veins. A man who wants ye more than his next breath or to see his next sunrise over the Highlands.”

  “I’ve never had a guy talk to me the way you do. It unsettles me.” And turns me on, too.

  He gulped his drink, his gaze locked on hers. “Does it fluster ye in a good way or bad? Are ye afraid of me, Frenchy? I ken I can be grumpy and domineering in me own way, but I would never, ever hurt ye. Never.”

  “I think I know that already.” And she did, deep down in her heart. She sensed a kindness and loyalty about this man she’d rediscovered after all these years.

  “Because ye need to ken this, lassie. Once I make love to ye and I will, ye’ll be mine. No other man touches ye, but me. I’ve never had emotions like this fer a woman before. I can tell ye in all honesty, not only does it scare me, but I will be one fokin’ possessive, jealous son of a bitch where ye’re concerned.

  “So the choice will be yers. The aye or the nay of it. The time, if we do cross that line. Just ken, once I’m inside ye, ye’ll be me woman. Mine and no one else’s.” His piercing eyes never left hers as he sipped his hot chocolate. “So make sure of how much yer feelings match mine before ye come to me bed and crawl between me arms.”

  Well, no one could blame him for not being blunt. If he was being honest. Yet, he could have made love to her earlier in bed. It wasn’t as if they had to worry about company coming or a meeting to attend or a spouse to deceive. They were snowbound and could spend hours having sex. Maybe he didn’t have any condoms. She was on the pill, but had forgotten to pack them in her survival kit. What woman would have expected to meet a man who could make her panties damp with one fiery look or the sound of his deep voice? She should still be safe; she’d only missed today’s dose.

  Commitment was the last thing on the minds of men she dated from time to time. A fun evening out, followed by sex and a hurried exit. Meaningless. Rather empty. Cold. But Ronan looked fierce, almost feral, when he’d stated she would belong to him. Exclusively. But for how long? Until he met the next woman who turned him on?

  Yet, he’d put the decision into her hands, given her the power. How nice to meet a man who wanted her, but on her terms. Really, what difference did it make? Who knew how much longer she’d have to live? Or him, if the coalition or the CIA sent planes to blow up this cabin. Her heart rate increased and she began to panic with a dozen different scenarios playing through her mind. She’d been trained enough to know how these situations worked. Oh, dear God. I don’t want him hurt.

  “No. I’m more afraid of my reaction to you than anything you would do to me.” She sipped at her hot chocolate. “Oh, this is just like Mère used to make on days I felt sick. I don’t know how accurate her stories were, but she used to tell me Queen Antoinette had hot chocolate every day. And since I was Mère’s little princess, I should have it, too, as a special treat.”

  Anisa closed her eyes to force back the tears of homesickness. She wished she could talk to her mother about Ronan and how he filled her heart with love. Her mère would be delighted Anisa had finally found a decent man.

  What was her family thinking of her now? Were they embarrassed? Angry? Disappointed? What would the distorted news of her actions do to her grandfather’s blood pressure? She’d written a note of explanation and given it to her cousin Gaston, making him promise to deliver it to her mother and grandfather, who shared the same house, in two days. By now, they would have it. How would they handle the shame of all the television reporters publicizing her as a defector and terrorist? Who would they believe?

  “What is it, luv? Ye are fighting tears like Colleen fights sleep.”

  She wiped them away. “You watch me too closely. It’s as if you can sense my moods.”

  He took off a pair of black narrow-rimmed glasses she hadn’t noticed he’d been wearing earlier to read. Dear God, they made him look sexier, if that were possible.

  He laid the book on the coffee table and the glasses on the open page, his gaze never leaving hers. “I’ll get better at it, too, once ye are well and truly mine. Fer ye will be me primary focus in life and beyond. I’ve waited all me life fer ye. In fact, I didna think a woman existed who could hold me heart in the palm of her hands the way ye do. Now that I’ve found ye, do ye think fer a moment, I will allow ye to hurt?”

  His feelings almost mirrored hers, but he had a more romantic way of expressing them. She sipped at her hot chocolate again and gently smiled. She’d read somewhere that Scots were poets in their blood.

  “Come here, Frenchy. Bring yer cup and sit on me lap. We’ll enjoy our drink in front of the fire and talk.” After she settled on his legs, he kissed the chocolate off her upper lip and she squeezed her thighs together to settle the throbbing that slow, long kiss created. “Now, tell me what yer neighborhood was like growing up. Did ye live in the same house or move often?”

  They snuggled and talked about their personal histories for over an hour. Ronan shared the pain of losing his da. Anisa talked about losing hers, too, to cancer from heavy smoking. And being picked on in school because of her chubbiness, how Gaston had taught her to fight, and the nun who had stood up for her when the bullies’ parents came to the school to complain. As they talked about hobbies and other childhood things, Ronan sifted his fingers through her curls and listened intently to every word she spoke, as if his life depended on soaking in everything he could
about her.

  Gradually, he brought the conversation around to her survival courses, asking her what happened in more detail between kisses and whispers of “Frenchy.”

  “Terrible things I’ve never told anyone.” She burrowed deeper into Ronan’s embrace. Slowly, she revealed happenings she’d kept secret from everyone. The electric shock treatments, a molar pulled without painkillers, the guards urinating on her, the lack of baths—all of it for God and country…and her military career. She shifted on his lap, turned her back toward him, and tugged up her turtleneck.

  “Anisa, Holy Mother of God, what have ye suffered? Bloody fokin’ hell!” His warm fingertips trailed the scars on her back. “Nay woman should have to endure treatment like this. Nor man neither.” He pressed slow kisses to marks, the visible remains of all the pain inflicted upon her. “Our clan values our females, for they are the heart of our homes and our lives.”

  “The raised stripes are from a whip. The white scars are from chains, as they hung me from the rafters with ropes around my wrists until my toes barely touched the floor. My pale skin seemed to drive them harder to wear me down. Or perhaps it was because I was a woman. They were determined I’d give in.” She lowered her top and faced Ronan. “I was as equally determined to endure the pain as long as any man.”

  A bear growled and then moaned as if he were in pain. Anisa tried to get off Ronan’s lap to see if she could detect the animal in the snowstorm.

  “Nay, luv. Leave the wild animals to their own devices. We are warm and safe in here—together.” Even though he’d tensed while she shared the substance of her frequent nightmares and her daytime terrors, he had a way of soothing she’d never received from anyone before. One would judge him as a ruffian because of his full-sleeve tattoo and his long hair, but she’d never met a more upstanding man. Fierce, yet gentle. Determined, yet compassionate. Odd how wrong her first impression of him had been until she realized who he was and how secure she felt now in his arms.