The Warrior's Mission

by Mia Pride

  Kicking the slightly ajar door open with his large, muddy boot, Flynn walked into the house and unceremoniously plopped her onto a pile of furs near the hearth. He held his aching side and grimaced, refusing to look her in the eye.

  “My thanks, Flynn,” she murmured, but he showed no sign whatsoever of hearing her. Walking away from her, he yanked his soaked tunic over his head, tossing it to the floor with a soggy thump. Even from across the room, she saw that his stitches had ripped open in a few places and she gasped. After several days, the wound had scabbed over and thankfully only small amounts of blood trickled through. She had stopped binding him just a few days ago because it was healing so well.

  “Flynn! Your wound!” Scrambling to her feet, she felt heavy and waterlogged with her dress and nightgown clinging to her cold skin. Her cold limbs made her clumsy and weak, causing her to flop back onto the floor on her hands and knees. Her chest labored to breath and her skin tingled as warmth slowly came back to her. Mud covered the bottom of her dress, but that was the least of her worries. Sitting back down on the furs near the hearth, she crossed her arms to stave off the chill. “You should not have carried me.”

  “You should not have run off!” he barked back, making her jump in surprise. His jaw ticked and she could see true rage in his eyes.

  “Well… you should not have shouted at me!” she shot back, clenching her fists. Though her body was frozen, she shook with rage as her blood boiled. How dare he blame her for what had happened after he kissed her with such passion, licking her neck and shoving his tongue down her throat, only to then step back and throw rejection in her face. Her body heated just thinking of it.

  “You should not have intentionally made me jealous by calling my brother handsome!”

  “Jealous? I did not know you were capable of feeling jealousy over me! You are the one who told me we can never be!”

  “You agreed!” he shouted back at her, stepping closer and holding his wound. His bare chest gleamed in the firelight and his wet trousers clung to his large legs… and his male parts, she noticed with wide-eyed perusal and a wildly beating heart.

  “I agreed because ‘tis the truth. We shall never be anything to one another. I am incapable of having a physical relationship with a man!” she hollered, flushing immediately after having admitted her darkest secret. “’Tis a vile, hateful act and nay man shall ever touch me!”

  He stopped in his tracks and stared down at her, all the tension visibly draining from his body. Shame and embarrassment washed over her. She knew her feelings were not the same as most lassies, still she had seen it forced enough on a woman to know how dreadful it was.

  “Has a man forced you before?” His tone was calm, yet frightening. “Tell me who and I will run him through with my blade, I vow it.”

  She shook her head and swallowed hard. Her hair clung to her face and she peeled the offending locks away from her cold neck. “Nay. Not me. My mother, my sister, and Elwynna. I have heard enough… seen enough, to know.” His face visibly paled and he propped himself against the bed post for support.

  His wound. She needed to repair the stitches. Her wet dress was leaving a trail of water on the hard-packed earthen floor of the hut and would eventually cause the floor to become soggy. Her skirts stuck to her skin as she walked over to her satchel and rummaged for a clean bone needle and some thread.

  “Sit,” she instructed Flynn as she approached him. He plopped down on a wooden bench, his wet trousers making a sloshing noise when he positioned himself. “’Twill hurt,” she murmured, and she expertly threaded the needle and poked him in his side.

  “Ouch!” he hollered, but she did not break eye contact with her work.

  “I warned you ‘twould hurt. Thanks for saving my life, Flynn,” she whispered, and she drew the needle through his skin and tugged the thread tightly.

  “I would never allow harm to befall you, Maggie,” he said with sincerity, and she knew he meant it. Still, she knew he could harm her, for he already had. Some wounds were not visible, but they ran deep and would likely never heal. In her heart, she knew Flynn had saved her from the pain of broken promises and wishful dreams by ending… whatever it was between them, before it even started. Still, her heart ached so painfully that she had to resist the urge to rub at her chest.

  “My father used to force himself on my mama in front of me,” she confessed as she bit off the last stitch and sighed. “She would scream in pain, cry, and sometimes bleed. But she always said it was a man’s right to take what he wanted, when he wanted, from his wife. ‘Tis when I vowed to never become a wife. I cannot bear such pain, even to please a man.”

  She stood back up and walked over, placing the used needle on the table to be boiled later. She had shared her shame with Flynn. He now knew her darkest secret, knew why she was so broken that no man would ever want her.

  “Maggie. A man who forces a woman is a beast. Making love should be pleasurable, natural, and mutual. ‘Tis a most beautiful thing when a man and a woman come together willingly. I am sorry your mother suffered so, but she was wrong. ‘Tis not a man’s right to take a woman until she is in pain.” He shook his head and stood from the bench.

  “You know much of making love?” She knew he must and yet, it brought her close to tears to think of him sharing these same feelings for another lass.

  “Nay. I know of bedding a lass, aye. Making love? Nay.”

  She looked over at him and thought on his words. Had he never loved a woman? Did he know that Maggie already loved him? If his words were true, a man and a woman could find pleasure if they cared for one another. Though she had denied such ideas her entire life, she knew some lassies who did enjoy it. Aislin seemed to be more than satisfied with her husband, as was Elwynna. The thought intrigued her.

  “Have…” her voice trailed off and she flushed at the words that were so close to escaping her lips. It was a private thing to ask and she bit her lower lip to prevent herself from asking the question. Mayhap she was better off not knowing his answer.

  “Have… what, Maggie? You can ask me anything you want. I swear to be truthful with you. It pains me to see you scared of something that can be so beautiful.”

  He stepped closer and she wanted to step back, but resisted the urge. “Have the lassies that you bedded found… pleasure? You did not hurt them?” Flynn coughed abruptly at her question and held his newly stitched side to prevent any strain. “I am sorry. I should not ask such questions. I am only curious.”

  “I believe that they have been most satisfied, aye. I have received nay complaints.” His cheeks flushed for the first time ever in her presence, and she shivered in her wet gown.

  “You are soaked to the bone, Mags. You must get warm. You will catch a chill if you sit in these wet garments.”

  “’Tis all I have. You know this.” She shivered again and turned to the fire, rubbing her hands furiously near the flames.

  “You must take them off,” he insisted.

  “I cannot!” Maggie groused. “I will not!”

  “Mags… be reasonable. We have furs. You can wrap yourself in a woolen blanket and furs. You shall be covered.”

  “What about you? Your trousers are soaked. And that cursed string is now most assuredly tangled again.”

  “I can leave them on,” he said simply, and she knew then that he would rather suffer in silence than make her uncomfortable.

  With a deep sigh, she realized she had to be brave and reasonable. “Nay, you just recovered from a chill. You must get warm.”

  “As must you,” he responded stubbornly. “I shall not if you will not.”

  She narrowed her eyes and huffed. “Fine. All right. Turn around and I shall remove my garments.”

  Flynn did as she asked, turning his back and walking away, leaving her to struggle with her clothing. Not only were they sopping wet and muddy, they clung to her stubbornly. Maggie gathered her skirts in her hands, raised them over her hips, and lifted her arms, tugging with all her
might. Her underdress was somehow twisted and tangled with her blue dress, and neither would come over her shoulders. With a grunt, she pulled with all her strength and let out a growl of frustration when the cursed fabric refused to release her from their binds.

  She heard Flynn growl from behind her, and turned to see what had him so flustered, though she could hardly see with her arms stuck up in the air and the fabric of two dresses now bunched across her breasts, refusing to be removed.

  Flynn’s head was down and his trousers had slackened just enough that she could see the upper half of his tight backside. His hips tapered and his rear was muscled perfection. She had not meant to stare, but she had also not expected to find him growling with his pants half down his hips.

  Turning back around swiftly before he caught her staring, she dropped her skirts in exasperation, feeling the cold cloth wrap around her body once more. Her arms had grown tired form holding them up and tugging so hard.

  Like it or not, if she was going to get out of these clothes, she needed help. He was much taller and stronger. He could yank the clothing over her head easily. “Flynn… I need help.” She swallowed hard when the words were said, regretting having to say them. “I am stuck. I cannot remove my garments.”

  Flynn turned to her, holding his loose trousers up with one hand, as his other rested on his hip. “My cursed string is stuck. I cannot loosen them enough to get them down my blasted arse!”

  Something bubbled up inside Maggie that she had not felt in such a long time. Laughter. Doubling over, she let out a giggle that morphed into booming laughter, holding her sides as she looked at Flynn’s confused face. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away before she stood back up and walked toward him. “We are a mess.” She laughed again and looked down at his hand holding his trousers up.

  “I am pleased you find it so humorous,” he murmured, but a playful smirk spread across his face and her heart dropped into her stomach. Gods, he was perfect. “What now?”

  Straightening her features, she shrugged and chewed her bottom lip. “I think I will require your help,” she said shyly. His brows rose and she knew he was suddenly imagining her naked. “You will, of course, close your eyes the entire time,” she amended.

  “Of course,” he said with forced effrontery. “Lift your arms.”

  “Close your eyes,” Maggie reminded him.

  He bent down and grabbed at the bottom hem of both her dresses. “Of course. Trust me.” And she did. Raising her arms, she watched as Flynn closed his eyes and stood up slowly, gathering the fabric in both hands. Her bare skin instantly warmed from the hearth fire and it felt slightly freeing, and entirely forbidden, for her nether parts to be exposed to the heat of the room while Flynn stood directly in front of her. If he opened his eyes and looked down, he would see parts of her no man had ever seen. Something about that thought made her tingle at her core, just as his kisses had.

  With a swift and hard tug, the wet garments pulled over her breasts and head, slowly peeling away from her shoulders and arms. One more tug and she was freed of the cold, wet material… and completely exposed. “Do not open your eyes yet!” she squealed, and she ran in a frantic circle looking for a blanket to wrap around her body. Pulling one off Flynn’s bed, she quickly wrapped it around herself and sighed in relief at its warmth. Flynn’s natural scent was all over the blanket and now wrapped around her body like a cocoon of protection. She suddenly felt calm and safe. “All right. I am covered.”

  Flynn opened his eyes and regarded her carefully. She shivered when his gaze roamed up and down her body, pausing at the long, exposed length of her calves and thighs. Heat flushed her body and that familiar ache between her legs grew more intense than ever. She was covered in naught but a woolen blanket and he was holding his trousers up with one hand. It felt so intimate and forbidden for them to be so nearly undressed before one another, but she found she only wished to be closer to him.

  The fire crackled in the otherwise silent room. Her mind kept turning over their conversation about making love. She knew he did not love her, but she was more certain than ever she loved him. Would allowing him to show her how a man loved a woman save her from her self-imposed nightmare? She had two choices before her. She could follow her body and heart’s guidance and seek out the truth that lay between her and Flynn, discover if he was the man to teach her more about life than she ever thought possible. Or, she could swallow these emotions, hide them away, and walk away from him and any chance at knowing what could exist between a man and a woman forever.

  She knew for certain no man would ever replace Flynn in her heart. It felt so sudden, but spending every day and night in his presence had turned out to be exactly what her heart had needed all along. This was the adventure she had begged for in her life. Was there happiness at the end of this journey? Nay. She knew he still had a role to play that would keep him from ever settling down with a family. She was also still not certain she ever wanted to be a wife or have children, and even if she did, Flynn had made no mention of having any feelings for her beyond his lust. And yet… mayhap, for now, in this moment, lust was enough to repair a little of the damage Maggie had been living with for far too long.

  His green eyes continued to stare at her with more emotions than she could recognize. He did not speak, nor did he move, but he stood frozen in his place, seeming to memorize every detail of her.

  Clutching the blanket around her chest, she slowly stepped closer to Flynn. His pupils dilated little by little with every step she took. Her free hand shook as she stood before Flynn, placing her hand on top of his. “Do you still need help?” she whispered, taking his trouser string in her hand. He nodded slightly and swallowed, and Maggie knew he sensed the new energy that sparked between them. The air had shifted, somewhere between her laughing at their ruined garments and him yanking her dress over her head.

  Nothing was funny about the ache she felt to be touched by Flynn. Her hands fumbled with his ties for a moment before she finally made progress on the knot. They slackened further, just enough for him to be able to remove them if he chose.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, and stared down at her. “’Tis your turn to turn away while I change.”

  Nodding, she turned hesitantly, but did not back away from him. Her mind was reeling. She should walk away. Nothing but heartache and rejection could possibly follow. And yet, before her now stood a man who was unlike any other. He was strong, yet gentle. Loyal, kind, caring, protective, and without a doubt, the only man who had ever made her feel as if her heart would beat out of her chest. She may regret this decision later, but the pull she felt toward him was too strong to deny. She needed, for the first time in her life, to face her fears and she knew he was the one she wanted to face them with.

  She heard his trousers being stripped away behind her. She knew Flynn was bared. “Flynn?” she questioned, keeping her back turned and feeling those flutters in her belly again.

  “Aye?”

  “I was wondering. What would you say if I asked you to… make love to me?”

  Chapter Nine

  Had he heard correctly, or was his body so filled with lust for the woman standing before him in naught but a wool blanket, that his head was making up fantasies? He stood completely naked behind her, but she had yet to turn around. His erection strained painfully toward her, seeking her heat and longing to give her pleasure. And yet, she was not only an innocent, she was an innocent who had claimed to be terrified of the act of lovemaking. Too many women she loved had been wrongfully used.

  “What did you say, Maggie?” he whispered softly and calmly. He was more than shocked, and honored, that Maggie would trust him enough to offer her body to him, but at what cost? It would hurt her to lose her innocence. Would she panic and force him off her? Or worse, would she believe his lovemaking meant they had a future together? As much as he longed to break through all of Maggie’s barriers, including the one between her thighs, he was not the right man to take her innocen
ce. He would love her and leave her, with no other choice in the matter. He wanted her more than he wanted anything else in this world. He wanted to promise her a future, bury himself deep within her warmth, and feel her let go for the first time in her life, then get down on his knees and beg the lass to be his wife. But if making love to her meant breaking her heart, he could not do it.

  She turned slowly, cheeks flushed with need, chewing on her sweet, plump lower lip. Gods, he wanted to reach out and pull her to him, to tear that blanket away from her body and bare her to his gaze. Instead, he stood still, cock throbbing painfully and mind reeling with possibilities.

  Her arms uncrossed as she allowed them to hang at her side. The wool blanket slipped painfully slowly off her shoulders while she stared in wonder at his obvious desire for her. Her beautiful blue eyes took in the entire sight of his body, widening when she focused on his manhood. He was certain she would run away at the sight of his massive, straining erection. He had never been so hard in his life and he gritted his teeth as her lids grew heavy with an obvious lust of her own. She was not showing any signs of the fear he expected to see.

  The last of her blanket fell away and he felt whatever blood was left in his brain shoot straight down to his eager cock. She was nothing less than perfection. A small waist with delicate curves and small, yet absolutely enticing breasts. Her wild blonde locks were starting to dry and curl around her face. He was also so proud of her ability to face her fears and trust in him enough to allow him to see her bared. He knew what an honor she was bestowing on him and yet, he did not think it a good idea. It may very well kill him, but he had to make sure she understood what it was she was offering him.

  “I trust you, Flynn. I want to do this, with you and only you. Show me it can be beautiful. Prove to me that making love does not need to hurt.”

  Her words ran through him like warmed mead on a snowy day, heating up his body with more emotions than he was ready to ponder. She wanted him to be the one and, gods, he would give up almost anything to be the one, but it would be selfish to take from her what she owed to her future husband. And he was not that man.