As Grant rode home toward Dithorn, accompanied only by Millicent, he thought on Eve’s sister, Mary, whom he’d found. She was a timid creature, very unlike his wife. He could understand it somewhat. She’d not had the benefit of being with Clara, someone who loved her, as Eve had, and she had been even younger than Eve when separated from her family, whom she did not even remember now. Grant sighed at that, and sifted through the rest of what he’d discovered.
John had brought her to the Calder clan as planned, but he’d died shortly after from the wounds he’d sustained fighting the MacDougalls. Mary had been taken in by a family, but they had been less than kind. Now she was wed to a man she clearly cared for, and she had no wish to recall a past that was painful. He’d tried to persuade her to at least see Eve, but he was not certain it had done any good. He’d seen the fear in her eyes. She was hiding from memories she did not currently have. Maybe seeing Eve would bring them to the surface, and she feared that, yet Grant could not help but think recalling her past might help her finally overcome it and the fear it brought her. Yet, if she was going to come to that understanding, it would likely have to be on her own accord.
He swiped a hand over his face. Mary had said she would think upon seeing Eve again, but it would be on her terms if she ever did so. He prayed she did. He had to tell Eve that Mary was alive, and it twisted his gut to think how it was going to hurt Eve that Mary did not want to see her.
“I need to relieve myself,” Millicent said, interrupting his thoughts.
Grant eyed her warily from his horse. Since leaving Dithorn a sennight ago, Millicent had slipped into his bed no less than twice, and once she’d slid her gown down to show her bare breasts before he’d realized what was occurring. He’d spoken to her sternly and then threatened to leave her at the Caldor keep. She’d behaved since then, but he’d not take chances. “Need I remind ye—”
“Ye need nae,” she said, pursing her lips. “Ye are loyal to yer barren wife.” Millicent smirked as she looked at him. “We shall see how long that loyalty lasts when ye dunnae have an heir.” She pulled up on her reins and dismounted, forcing him to do the same. They were close to Fraser land but not quite there yet, and he was keenly aware that MacDougalls could be lurking about.
“Go there, behind those bushes.” He waved to the thick shrubs. That way, she’d be out of his sight but not so far away that he would not hear her scream for help.
“We could both go,” she said in a suggestive voice.
“Millicent,” he said, his tone a warning.
“Fine.” She shrugged. “I dunnae ken why ye dunnae take my offer. Ye may love yer new English bride, but ye still need an heir.” She marched away, grumbling loudly.
He opened his mouth to deny what Millicent had said and then snapped it shut, stunned by the certainty that Eve had ensnared him body and soul. He could no longer ignore or deny it. Every second away from her had been torture. At night, he’d spent countless hours thinking of her lush body, her eyes flashing in defiance, her chin jutting out when she wished to show a brave face, the subtle pitch of her voice when she attempted—and failed—to lie well. She had defied him, charmed him, scared him witless, astounded him, enraged him, and bewitched him.
The guilt over his mother’s death was still there, but in this moment, as he was going back to his wife with nothing to offer her but himself, he knew that he would give her all of him. All he wanted to do now was return home and tell Eve how he felt, in the hope it would be enough.
“Grant!” Millicent screamed, yanking him from his reverie.
He instinctively raised his sword, and MacDougall and two other men raced from the woods where Millicent had been, brandishing their swords.
MacDougall stopped and motioned to his men. “Kill him!”
The first warrior charged him, and Grant cut him down easily with a swipe across his neck. Then the other two attacked simultaneously. They came toward him from the left and the right, and MacDougall shouted, “I’ll make certain Lady Eve sees yer head on a spike before I have Aros wed and bed her.”
Rage pumped out of his heart, rushing through his veins to propel him into action. He swung out to his left and plunged his sword into the MacDougall warrior there, while releasing his dagger to the right, which landed in the forehead of the third MacDougall warrior. They fell to the ground one after the other, and then he turned to meet Laird MacDougall himself, who was coming at him. Grant had no fear as he raised his sword to meet MacDougall’s. He could not lose; Eve needed him.
Their swords clanked, and the vibrations of metal upon metal sank into his bones. MacDougall might be older than Grant was, but the man was powerful and a well-seasoned warrior. He cut Grant across his forearm. Grant, in turn, made contact, slicing open his enemy’s chest, making the man drop his sword with a gasp. Fury burned Grant’s throat as an image of Simon filled his mind, and he brought his sword up to end MacDougall’s life exactly as the man had ended Simon’s. When the body followed the head to the ground, Grant started to slump with relief, but another scream, this one distinctly Eve’s, filled the silence.
He started to turn toward Eve and then recalled Millicent. Cursing, he ran to where she’d gone to relieve herself and found her hovering, crying. “Get to the castle,” he ordered harshly, “and tell the watchmen to sound the war bell.” With that, he raced toward Eve’s voice.
Eve glanced down at the rocks and the swirling sea behind her and then back at Aros. He motioned to her with his free hand. “Come to me, Eve. Ye dunnae wish to jump.”
No, she certainly did not. It would be the death of her! But now that she’d been disarmed, she needed to think of something. She backed up again, the ground beneath her heel disappearing, and she screamed.
Aros lunged toward her, and in that instant, she tried to jump to the side, but the ground they both stood upon suddenly gave way. Another scream ripped from her throat as she grabbed a root sticking up from the ground and her body slammed into rock, then dangled there. She glanced over her shoulder, then squeezed her eyes shut on the horrid picture of Aros hitting the rocks below. Her hand began to burn and slip, and she screamed again. “Help! Help!”
Please, God. Help has to be coming…
The root loosened a bit, causing her to release a blood-curdling bellow, and she squeezed her eyes shut, sure she was about to die. Her thoughts went instantly to Grant.
“Eve!”
Afraid she had conjured his voice out of desperation, she slowly opened her eyes. But there he was, on his belly and leaning over the edge, fear and determination in his blue eyes and a half smile on his lips.
“Grant,” she breathed.
His right hand grasped her wrist, and with a grunt, he pulled her up the side of the cliff, and when her head reached the ledge, he slid his left hand to her waist and hauled her all the way over with a grunt. She landed on him, and he immediately cupped her face. “Eve.” Raw emotions filled his voice. “God, Eve.” He kissed her hard on the mouth once, twice, then pulled away. “I beg of ye,” he croaked, a half smile on his lips, “quit courting trouble.”
Before she could respond, his men began to race toward them. At the front of the pack were Ross and Kade, and they had Bryden hanging between them by either arm. When he saw her, his eyes widened. As Grant pulled her to her feet, Bryden shouted, “Eve tried to kill me so she could flee with Aros!”
Eve gasped and turned to Grant. The look of rage that came to his face made her try to tug her hand free of his hold, but he gripped her tighter and brought her with him as he strode toward Bryden. He stopped when they were face-to-face. “Eve would nae ever betray me, Cousin,” Grant said in a chilling tone. “Tell me yer true sins now, or I’ll leave ye in the thief’s hole until ye’re nae but dust.”
Bryden began to blubber, admitting his plot to take the lairdship from Grant. Eve stood there, marveling at her husband’s icy control and how he’d shown so much faith in her. She decided then and there that she had failed this man, who had s
hown her nothing but honor and loyalty since the day they’d met. She had believed the worst when she should have first sought to hear it from him.
As he started to call orders to his men, telling them to mount their horses and sweep the castle, he released her. “Eve, go to the keep with Kade. I need to see to Bryden.”
His wary look told her he expected her to argue, so she took great pleasure in smiling and saying, “As you wish, Husband.”
Chapter Seventeen
Eve awoke to a brush of lips upon hers. When she opened her eyes, Grant hovered over her, moonlight streaming in from the window and across his face and bare chest. Desire sprang up in her belly and lower in her core, but she pressed a halting hand to his shoulder, even as she felt the evidence of his desire for her. They must talk, sort through things, and if she allowed him to kiss her again, she feared desire would sweep her away.
“How did the scouting go?” she asked.
“We found no more MacDougalls on our land.”
The impatience in his voice and the way he moved his hips against her made her smile, and coiled her insides tight. “And Bryden?” she asked breathlessly as Grant pressed his hips more solidly against her.
“In the thief’s hole. Tomorrow he will be taken across the sea and left at Dragoon.”
“What is Dragoon?”
Grant leaned forward and kissed her neck, making her shiver. “Dragoon is where traitors are taken. ’Tis deep in the heart of the Dark Woods. If he makes it out alive, he may live free, but he will nae ever be a Fraser again.”
She frowned, not sure she wanted him to make it out alive but not wanting to wish death upon anyone else, either. “How many have made it out alive?”
Grant kissed her forehead, her eyes, and her nose before answering. “None that I ken.”
When he went to kiss her mouth again, she turned her head. “Tell me of Millicent,” she said.
He released a long, weary breath and rolled off her to lie beside her. She turned to look at him, studying his profile, which revealed nothing but the fact that her husband’s face was very strong and very handsome. “Who told ye of Millicent?” he finally asked.
Her heart squeezed at his words, which seemed to indicate the worst. “Your sister. I forced it out of her,” she added in an effort to protect Esme.
She thought he’d be mad, but he surprised her by laughing. “It pleases me how ye and Esme try to protect each other. I want to protect ye, as well.”
“I know,” she said. “And that pleases me, but not if it means I am living a lie.”
His hand found hers, and he twined their fingers together. She took comfort knowing he wanted to touch her as she wanted to touch him. “I took Millicent to the Calder holding to ensure they gave me admittance since we are nae allies. Millicent was a Calder before she was a Fraser.”
“And she was once your leman.” Eve did not bother to mince words.
A derisive sound came deep from her husband’s throat. “My sister should nae have told ye that. I can only imagine the worry it has caused ye.”
“I doubt you can,” she replied, attempting to make light of it.
He moved atop of her, his powerful leg pushing between her thighs and his arms caging her in. Tension radiated from him. “Ye have my heart, Eve,” he whispered, shocking her. “And because ye have that, ye’ll be the only woman to ever have my body, even if that means I dunnae have an heir.”
She did not even realize she had started crying until his fingers were upon her face, gently brushing away her tears. “Ye nae being able to give me a bairn dunnae make me love ye less, but more.”
“You love me?” she whispered, her heart feeling as if it would burst.
“Aye, lass. Completely. Gloriously. Hopelessly. Forever and always from this breath until my last.”
“I love you too with all my heart,” she said.
“I dunnae ken why God has blessed me so, but I’ll nae question it,” he replied and brushed his lips across hers ever so lightly, and when he pulled back, he said, “I ken the strength ye must draw on to endure the sorrow of nae being able to have bairns, and it makes me love ye even more.” More warm tears leaked out of her eyes and down her cheeks. “Since I’m the reason ye kinnae have a bairn,” he said, his voice hitching with obvious agony, “I’d hoped to find yer sister and reunite ye with her so that maybe ye would hate me less.”
His admission stole her ability to speak for a moment, and then she rose to kiss him. “I could never hate you. I could definitely be vexed with you.” They both laughed at that. “But I love you so very much.”
He nuzzled his face in her neck and then pressed his mouth to her ear. “Eve, I will try my best to show my love always, but this is new for me, and if I stumble—”
“I’ll help you up,” she promised, pressing her lips to his neck.
His lips were on her again, but this time the kiss was one of two people truly finding each other underneath the armor they had worn for the world.
When they broke the kiss, Grant said, “I found yer sister.” Shock slammed into her while he continued. “I dunnae ken if she’ll see ye. She was taken in by a cold family, but she’s wed now to a man she seems to love. She’s timid, though, and fearful, and she does not truly recall ye and is fearful to try to do so, but she said she will think upon seeing ye.”
Eve nodded, her throat too tight with emotion to speak. Finally, she swallowed. “She is the last of my old family. I want her in my life. But if she does not wish it—”
“Ye have a new family to love ye,” Grant finished. “Let me love ye now, Wife.”
Her answer was to kiss his chest, trailing up to his neck and his lips. Then he took control. His lips captured hers, persuading her to open her mouth for him, and when she did, the pleasure she took from the way he swirled his tongue with hers surely had to be sinful, but not nearly as sinful as the way she cried out when he took her nipple with tantalizing possessiveness. His tongue caressed the sensitive bud while his hands slid down her belly, tracing a sensuous path to ecstasy.
His fingers expertly found the spot hidden behind her curls, the one that made her moan and arch her back toward him, pressing her hips up to get more of his touch. His fingers branded her at her core, and she throbbed with need. Passion pounded the blood through her heart, chest, and head, and as her pulse exploded, so did his touch, becoming frenzied, circling and massaging without giving quarter, until her entire body tightened. When she thought she could not take another moment, she screamed out for him, needing to feel him inside her. He took her then with a savage intensity, driving into her and claiming her as his.
Together, they found a tempo that bound them, and as they moved, she caressed the broad plane of his back, his strong shoulders, and then down to his buttocks, feeling the muscles flex with each delicious slide into her. Heat rippled from him to her, and she could sense his need building to match hers. She moaned with pleasure when he touched somewhere deep inside her, and then her world seemed to explode as her body did the same. Her last coherent memory was his cry of release and the warmth of Grant flooding into her.
The length of Eve was pressed heavily against Grant, warm, soft, and womanly. She was the most perfect creature he’d ever known, even while snoring—and aye, but she could snore. A deep feeling of peace overcame him as he ran his fingers lightly over his wife’s back. She sighed happily in her sleep. The turbulence of the passion they had shared amazed him, and he closed his eyes in desperate need of sleep. But just as he did, it seemed only a moment later that a knock came at their door.
“Grant!” Ross called.
He scooted out from under Eve, donned his plaid, opened the door, slipped out, and said, “This better be of utmost importance.”
Ross nodded. “Eve’s sister has come to see her, and she’s brought nearly four hundred Calder warriors to aid us in taking Linlithian.”
“Well, even though it’s the middle of the night, I’ll wake my wife for that,” he said with a
smile.
“’Tis morning, Grant.”
Grant frowned and glanced toward the window. He stared in shock; Ross had spoken the truth. Chuckling, Grant slapped his friend on the back. “Ye must find a wife, Ross. They are verra good for one’s sleep. We’ll be down directly.”
Ross nodded, and Grant made his way back to Eve and gently shook her awake. She grumbled a bit but finally opened one eye. “I had the most amazing dream,” she said with a yawn.
“What did ye dream of?” he asked, unable to resist tucking her hair behind her ear.
She pressed his hand to her face and smiled up at him. “I dreamed that my sister came to see me, and—”
“Eve, she’s downstairs,” he said, shock rippling through him. Eve’s eyes widened, then tears filled them. “What’s this?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. “Why are ye sad?”
“No,” she said excitedly, sitting up. “I’m not sad. I’m happy. Do you know what else I just dreamed?”
“Nay, and I dunnae care at this moment,” he teased, cupping her enticing breasts.
She grabbed his hand and moved it to her belly, her lavender gaze locking with his. “I dreamed we had a son with gray eyes.”
Grant curled his fingers softly, protectively over his wife’s stomach. “Well, ye dreamed of wedding for love, and ye did.” He winked at her. “And ye dreamed yer sister was here, and she is. So I’d say we’ve a verra good chance of having a gray-eyed son from a lavender-eyed beauty. Ye ken what that means, though?”
“I must not court trouble?” she asked with a laugh.
“Exactly, Wife, exactly.”
Epilogue
“Eve, I distinctly recall that your husband’s last words to you before he left to attend King Robert, were that you ‘should not court trouble,’” Mary chided.
“Teaching the art of swordsmanship as Grant has taught it to me is not courting trouble,” Eve replied with a grin before ducking Esme’s oncoming swing with Fate.
Highland Avenger Page 22
