Her Highland Defender

by Samantha Holt

  The crack of a tree branch made her head spin. She crouched lower. Cold leaves touched her skin and a branch pressed into her side but the slight sting of it seemed irrelevant. What if the English had killed him? How would she go on? And she had never told him anything. There was no doubting it now. She loved Blane.

  “Ceana.”

  She stood and nearly collapsed again when her head span and her knees trembled. Warm arms wrapped about her.

  “Yer alive.”

  “Aye.” He flattened her against his chest and let her absorb the warmth of him.

  Ceana put a palm over his heart to feel the steady, reassuring throb of it. Her breathing evened and her head began to clear.

  “The Sassenachs?”

  “Dead.” He pushed his fingers through her hair and lifted her face. She longed to see him. “All dead. Yer safe now.”

  “Forgive me. I had to.”

  “Aye, I know.” His fingers skimmed her face. “Yer a foolish lass but I understand ye.”

  She smiled up at him and imagined his gaze warm on her face. “Yer a foolish man for coming after me, but I understand ye too.”

  “I wish to kiss ye and hold ye, Ceana. I thought I might not get the chance to do it again. But we must come away from here and find somewhere to shelter for the night.”

  “I cannae believe ye were no’ harmed.” She paused as he took her arm to guide her out from the trees. “Ye were no’ harmed, were ye?”

  “Nay. A scratch or two ‘tis all. I had something worth fighting for.”

  Making their way down the hill didn’t give them much time to talk. She longed to ask what had become of all those Englishmen, how he defeated them, what her sister had said, but focusing on remaining upright on the uneven ground took all her concentration.

  “This way,” he told her and led her along flatter ground. The sound of water rushing told her they were near a river. She gripped his arm.

  “I’ll no’ let ye fall.”

  The river had to be deep or a sharp drop, but her movement had been instinctual. She knew Blane wouldn’t let her fall.

  “I know.”

  “Do ye?” he asked, his voice almost as harsh and as desperate as the sound of the water gushing past. “Do ye know that I would do all I can to protect ye, Ceana? That ye’ve given me something to fight for again? Killing those men was no longer about revenge. It was about ye and only ye.”

  Ceana swallowed hard, unsure how to respond to his impassioned words. Aye, she longed to say. And giving herself up had not just been to do with her sister but also protecting him. But she hardly knew how to explain her feelings while they were moving at a brisk pace. She needed to stop, touch his face, feel his body around her and take the time to gather her thoughts.

  “Here, this will do.”

  Though everything remained dark, she felt cool darkness close around her. Another cave. She shuddered against the blanket still tangled about her shoulders.

  “Och, I know ‘tisnae the best place for ye, but we cannae stay out in the wild. There’s wolves about.”

  “’Tis well enough, Blane. I am no’ afeared.”

  “Good. I’ll no’ be able to light a fire.” She felt him ease down beside her. “Everything is too wet, so we shall need to stay warm together.” An arm wrapped around her shoulders and drew her into him. “Ye should rest.”

  Ceana nodded. The warmth of his body seeped through the blanket and her mind grew fuzzy quickly. “How is Kate?”

  “Unharmed.” He chuckled. “Though she isnae happy with ye.”

  “I thought ye would no’ be either.”

  “I find myself too grateful to have ye safe in my arms to worry about being angered with ye. Though I’ll say that ye must never scare my again like that.”

  “I have no intention of doing so.”

  “Whatever we face, Ceana, we do it together, do ye understand?”

  “Aye,” she said softly. She closed her eyes. Did that mean he wouldn’t leave her? That he’d stay by her side always? She hoped so.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blane observed Ceana sleeping with a mixture of envy and admiration. He couldn’t claim to have slept much and he was paying for it now. His muscles ached. His head throbbed. The few small cuts stung and he was fairly certain he had a nice collection of bruises from the scuffles yesterday.

  But the English were dead. Catching them by surprise, they’d been little match for him. He’d slaughtered three within moments and another as he grabbed Ceana. The rest had met their end after he’d seen her to safety. The spluttered last words of one of the men still rang in through his mind. What are you?

  He’d always been a good fighter. Brutal and swift. But he knew what he was, who he was and why he’d been able to dispatch them with such ease.

  He was a man in love.

  Easing his arm from around her, he settled her on the blanket and let loose a soft smile. With her dark lashes against her pale, slightly grimy skin, she appeared endearingly young. He wished he could sleep so peacefully but not when he had her to guard.

  Blane had to bite back a groan as he came to his feet and inspected the cave in which they had spent the night. It had been pure luck there had been little cloud cover so he could find this place to shelter. He’d slept in the open by himself many a night but he wasn’t comfortable doing as much with Ceana. Glancing at her again, he assured himself he’d have her safe and warm in her bed soon enough.

  And hopefully he’d be with her.

  He stepped out into the daylight and peered around. Hand to his back, he tried to rub away the aches in his muscles. Och, if only he had the body of a young man still. He’d have hardly noticed he’d spent the night on a cold, hard floor, unwilling to move for fear of disturbing Ceana. Although he’d been foolish as a young man. Too easily riled and thoughtless. He doubted he would have succeeded in rescuing her without the years of experience on his side.

  Blinking in the light, he eyed the river that wound past the cave. A deep pool was not a few feet from them and a small waterfall spilled into it. Slightly farther along, several large rocks that must have spilled from the hillside many decades ago acted like stepping stones into the water. He considered his dirty, painful body and the cool water in front of him.

  Blane unpinned his plaid and removed the rest of his garments, before kicking off his boots and finding a relatively dry place to leave them. Cool air touched his skin and he shivered. The water would be colder but he couldn’t wait. He half-hoped it might numb his throbbing muscles. He took a moment to inspect the slice to his arm and the one that had managed to cut through his clothing on his side. They were all superficial cuts but could do with cleaning.

  He made his way across the boulders and stepped into the water with a hiss. It was indeed as cold as he’d expected. Wading in, he dove under when it got deep enough and came to the surface not far from the waterfall. As he pushed his hair from his face, he twisted so as to keep an eye on the cave while water rained down on his back. Blane groaned at the feel of the water pounding his muscles into submission.

  When he eyed the dark entrance to the cave, his heart did a skip as Ceana emerged from the darkness. He wasn’t sure how much she could see, so he called over. “Dinnae move.”

  “Blane?” She scanned the area but he didn’t think she’d seen him.

  “I’m in the water. Wait there.”

  He swam over and climbed out. Her gaze suddenly latched onto him and he realised she’d caught his movement.

  “Yer naked.”

  He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised she could tell.

  “We’re near the river’s edge. Dinnae move.” He took her hand.

  “And yer wet.”

  “Aye.”

  “Is it cold?”

  “Very.”

  “Can I join ye?”

  “Ye’ll get cold,” he warned.

  “I need to wash, Blane. I need to—” Her voice cracked a little.

  He understo
od it. She needed to wash away the touch of those Sassenachs. “Turn around,” he said gruffly.

  The image of her being manhandled by the brutes sent a dart of hot fury through him, made all the worse by the scratches he spied on her hands...and the bruises on her body that he revealed as he stripped her down. Not even the sight of her milky skin and fragile figure could eat through his anger.

  “Mac an donais,” he hissed.

  “What is it?” She shivered and wrapped her arms about her waist as he pushed her garments to her feet and helped her step out.

  He skimmed a finger over a bruise on her shoulder. “Did they harm ye?”

  “They were no’ gentle, but ‘twas nae deliberate. I fell a lot mostly.”

  Blane swallowed the hard knot in his throat. “Yer covered in marks.”

  She turned to stare up at him, those eyes eating into his very soul. “Is it very ugly to look at?”

  “God, nay. Never.” He drew her close and relished the feel of her gentle body against his. His fury almost forgotten at her vulnerable words, arousal began to simmer through his veins.

  Grasping her hand, he guided her across the rocks, careful to ensure she didn't slip. Ceana hissed when her toes met the water.

  “I told ye,” he said with a smile at her grimace when she stepped farther in.

  “Och, the loch is colder.”

  He wasn't sure he believed her but he admired her lifted chin and the way her eyes blazed with determination. He loved her courage.

  He loved her. His heart pounded with the truth of it.

  The cold water enveloped his body though he hardly noticed it when Ceana came close, her naked body brushing his. In response, Blane wrapped his arms about her and held her tight to him—reassuring himself, perhaps, that she was here, alive and well. That she was in his arms and he wouldn’t have to let her go again.

  She gasped as their bodies touched. He wasn't sure how much she saw in the dappled light that spilled in little pools onto the water but she stared up at his face and he had to assume she saw something. She would never see the love in his eyes, however. He wasn't so sure he was good enough with words to tell her either. With his touch, though? Mayhap.

  Moving his hands down her body, he took his time skimming them over her spine, up and down before curving his palms over her rear. Not even ice water would have been able to prevent his arousal, and a smile slipped across her face when she felt it prod her belly.

  “Are ye no' a little tired?” she asked, wrapping her hands around his neck and nudging his shaft slightly. Ceana's way of telling him she certainly wasn't.

  “Never too tired for ye.”

  She released a low sigh. “What ye did was so dangerous, Blane. I cannae forget it. Ye could have been killed. By all rights, ye should have been. How many other men would survive such a fight?”

  “How many other men had ye to fight for?”

  Her expression warmed again. He drew back enough to clasp her hand and draw her close to the waterfall. She stiffened for a moment and he realised the sound and perhaps whatever she saw must seem frightening. He considered the courage it had taken to step inside that cave and defeat the Englishmen—and it had taken none. He hadn't needed it. Ceana had been the driving force so that fear hadn't even entered his mind. Yet Ceana must have to summon courage on a daily basis to live her life normally. She had to trust herself to come away unharmed from normal situations. And now she had to trust him.

  She had trusted him to see her safely from the cave. Hell, she had even said the words. Surely, she felt the same. Blane didn't think it was possible that she didn't. How could he feel this burning, bright sensation of hope in his chest alone?

  “Trust me,” he said over the sound of the waterfall.

  She nodded and he drew her over to the edge of the waterfall, just enough so that the water began to beat lightly on his back. The cold almost forgotten, he relished the feel of it easing the aches in his muscles and coaxed Ceana over to do the same. She let out a cry of surprise that he saw rather than heard but allowed him to hold her close and push his finger through her hair and across her face and body until almost all muddy marks of her ordeal were gone.

  She closed her eyes and savoured the feel of the water. Blane was struck by the sight of her pale skin, sheening with droplets, her dark lashes fanning across her skin and her hair slick and resting on her shoulder. His heart gave a little pulse. He would never let this woman go. Not again.

  He kissed her lightly while her eyes were closed and they fluttered open. She didn’t kiss him back but her lips curved into a smile.

  “Come, let's get ye dry and warm.”

  Ceana nodded and allowed him to lead her back out of the water and to the entrance of the cave. He wrapped her in his plaid and squeezed the water from her hair. Her gaze tracked his movements while he rubbed the wool up and down her body until her skin was pink and dry.

  “Blane,” she murmured, stopping him in his tracks as he turned to retrieve his shirt. “Are ye no' cold?”

  She opened his plaid in invitation and he finally took the time to eye her willowy body. Her nipples were hard, pink and beautiful, almost begging for his mouth. He held back a groan and stepped into the fold of the plaid as she wrapped her arms around his waist and enclosed them in a blanket of warmth. He hadn't quite lost his arousal from earlier and it blazed back through his body, making him as hard as stone in an instant.

  “Make love to me,” she begged. “I thought I might never see ye again. Make love to me.”

  How could he deny her? Here she gave him the chance to show her his love. This generous, brave woman had offered him everything and he would take it, and only pray he could one day repay her.

  Sliding his hands up around her face, he lifted her chin and dusted kisses over her face. He followed the sweep of her cheek, felt her lashes flutter against his lips when he kissed her closed lids, savoured the corner of her mouth then found the sweet fullness of her lips. She gasped against his mouth and dug her fingers into his waist.

  Ceana moved against him like waves on the ocean. Back and forth, rocking against him until his need for her became too great. He tugged away the plaid and released her briefly enough to lay it on the soft, tufted grass just past the cave mouth. Blane eased her down onto it and took his time spreading her damp hair around her. Then he grasped the corners of the plaid and wrapped it about them, cocooning them in it. If the heat of his desire wasn’t enough to warm her, the warmth of their bodies beneath the wool would.

  She skimmed her fingers across his rough jaw and gazed up at him. Ceana saw him somehow, He just knew it. And in those wild blue eyes, he saw reflected every emotion threatening to burst out from inside of him.

  “Ceana—” His voice cracked at the memory of how close he'd come to losing everything again. Never would he allow history to repeat itself. His village had paid for his neglect but he'd never neglect this woman. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ceana, when they took ye...” He shook his head to himself, remembering the sheer terror that had overwhelmed him along with the brute determination to ensure she survived. “I...”

  “I know,” she said softly. “I love ye, Blane.”

  He gave a half-smile. How was it she could understand him so fully? How could she put into words what he could not? He leaned down and kissed her sweetly. Finally, the words came. “I love ye.” They were harsh as though his throat was filled with sand but they were out, and her responding smile made them worth every painful moment of his pounding heart.

  “I dinnae know how,” he said, curling a damp lock of hair around his finger. “I mean, I do. Yer an amazing, beautiful lass. But I dinnae know how it is that I deserve ye.”

  “And I ye.”

  “Ye deserve everything, mo chroidhe. I shall give ye everything that I can,” he vowed. “I shall protect ye to the end of my days. I shall work every day to see ye smile. I willnae let a day pass by without kissing ye.”

  “I couldnae ask for more
. But, Blane—” she gripped his rear and urged him closer to her “—make love to me.”

  How could he deny his courageous Highland lass? He used his hips to nudge her legs farther apart and locked gazes with her. Although need fired through him, it wasn't enough to drown out his want to see the flare of her eyes as they joined or to cover his need to relish every sweet, simple moment. He could never have claimed to have truly made love to a woman and he wanted to remember this forever.

  She was wet and ready for him, He eased into her, noting the way her eyes widened and took on an almost cloudy cast. Lips parted, she squeezed his buttocks in encouragement. His name was but a whisper on her lips. It seared his mind and he swore he'd never forget the sound.

  When they were fully joined, he rested there for a moment, taking in the fragile length of her beneath him and considering the trust she put in him, both now and during the rescue. He had known then it was likely she loved him for Ceana did not trust easily. He hoped that meant she would never act so boldly alone again. From now on, it had to be both of them facing the world together.

  Together, they made love. He watched every nuance of her face and worked to bring her to a slow, gentle peak that he hoped she'd never forget. All he knew was that he wouldn't. The image of her parted lips and the sound of her gasps of pleasure would linger with him always.

  He continued to move slowly, unwilling to give up the feeling of connection. Blane supposed he should have realised he was fated to fall for her after that first night together, maybe even after the first time he'd set eyes on her. There had always been that connection but now it was a hundred times more intense. His life had been about battles and, most recently, revenge. Now it was about Ceana, and ensuring her safety and happiness. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he looked forward to the future.

  As the intensity of the sensations brewing inside increased, he gave her several shaky kisses before burying his head against her neck. He felt her pulse against his skin and gripped her thighs while he gave himself up to her. Spilling deep inside her, he released a long breath and smiled. Ceana ran her hands up and down his back in soothing motions while he waited for his breathing to return to normal. Finally, he eased up onto his arms and gazed down at her.