by Donna Grant
He ignored her as he fastened his tartan over his heart with the brooch. Only then did he turn to look at her. “You must be better than you realise."
Kenna knew that wasn't the truth. For months now she had practised just as Brigit had told her. Had her Druid skills finally come to her? If so, she would need to be more careful in the future least her clan hang her for a witch.
Just the thought of a noose around her neck sent chills down her spine. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and took a deep breath.
"I am just a healer."
There was something in the way Frang's blue gaze narrowed ever so slightly on her, the way his eyes seemed to search her very soul that left her frightened and ... excited. It was as if he saw her secret, a secret she had kept to herself for so long. She was tired of being alone, tired of sharing her meals with only herself. Frang's sharp gaze saw her for what she was, and he accepted her.
She licked her lips and turned to the hearth. She began to pile wood inside until Frang touched her arms.
"Allow me,” he said and moved her away.
It had been so long since anyone had done anything for Kenna. She was used to being alone and doing everything herself. Oh, some clansmen would trade their skills at fixing her roof or chopping wood in exchange for herbs, but that wasn't the same as doing something out of kindness.
Frang glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. “You look as though you don't know what to do with a man in your house, lass."
A hysterical chuckled escaped before she had time to stop it. She swallowed and shrugged. “'Tis a fact I'm afraid."
His gaze grew warm and a slow sensual smile pulled at his wide lips. It was enough to make any woman squirm, but Kenna found her reaction alarming. She wasn't used to attention by a man, especially a man as handsome as Frang. It was obvious from the heat in his gaze that he would teach her what to do with a man in her house if she but asked. The question was, was she daring enough to ask?
"Don't fash yourself,” he said as he turned back to the growing fire. “I would rather harm myself than you."
Not wanting to be caught staring at his nice bum, Kenna turned towards the area she used as her kitchen and began to make the evening meal.
"'Tis late,” she said. “You are welcome to stay for dinner."
"I'd like that."
She swallowed and took a deep breath. She hadn't expected him to take the offer, and now that he had, she found a bold side of herself she didn't know she had. “You're also welcome to stay the night."
There was a slight pause as she heard him move around the hearth towards her. She could feel his eyes on her, roaming over her body. Her skin grew flushed, her heart accelerated and breathing became difficult. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind.
In fact, she was wondering what was wrong with her. She'd never invited anyone to stay the night before, especially not a strange man. Yet it seemed the right thing to do. At least that's what her body wanted her to do.
"Thank you,” he said softly.
Kenna smiled and turned to face him. She was savouring every moment of Frang in her cottage. Tomorrow morning she would be alone once more.
Chapter Five
Frang stared at the ceiling above him. It had been a long and sleepless night. Knowing Kenna was only a few feet from him in her bed brought delicious visions of erotic enticement into his mind and body leaving little room for sleep. How he'd love to cover her body with his, licking and kissing her delectable breasts until she cried out for more. He'd cover her sex with his hand and find her hidden pearl, stroking it until she peaked. Then he'd take her, fill her with his rod, and thrust into her until she had drained him of his seed. He shifted to ease his aching cock and knew if he didn't turn his mind to other things, he'd take Kenna like he'd been dreaming of doing.
His hand rose and he gently touched the wound from the day before. It was nearly healed, and he knew it didn't have anything to do with Kenna's herbs. He had assumed that once the curse was over he would no longer be immortal. It was something he definitely needed to speak to Aimery about post-haste.
The rustle of movement alerted him Kenna was waking. He silently rose and began the fire. Once the fire was roaring, he glanced at her to see her on her side with her back to him. Frang smiled as he straightened and imagined pulling the covers away from her inch by inch. He'd curve his body around hers and reach around to thumb her nipples until they were hard, aching peaks. He'd lift her top leg and slowly enter her, circling her swollen pearl. Since he couldn't do that, he walked from the house.
Outside, he took a deep breath and tried to get his raging body under control. He turned his thoughts to the Druids and wondered how they were doing at the Glen without him. After the laird's visit the day before, he fully expected Wallace to send someone to check on Kenna. Frang would have to be on his way soon. But not yet.
He moved to the small pile of wood stacked to be chopped. The battle yesterday left sore muscles this morning, but it was a good sore.
Frang let his hand curl around the handle of the axe as he grinned. Being the High Priest at the Glen had afforded him a certain position, one that didn't do this sort of menial labour. He wondered what the Druids would think of him now that he was anxious to do such labour. Over the last five years, tasks like this one had honed muscles ignored before and given him added strength.
With a slight yank, he pulled the axe from the stump and bent to pick up a rather large piece of wood. With one deep breath, Frang lifted the axe and drove it into the wood.
* * * *
Kenna yawned and stretched before she remembered she wasn't the only one in her cottage. She rose and glanced at the pallet Frang had made before the hearth, only to find him gone. Disappointment filled her as she swung her legs over the bed and rose.
She let out a breath as she walked to the roaring fire and put the kettle of water on to boil. It was then she heard the steady sound of chopping. She moved to her window and pushed open the shutters to find Frang chopping wood.
If she'd thought he looked good yesterday standing in her cottage or fighting the Carmichaels, it was nothing to how he looked this morning with his shirt off and his torso gleaming with sweat as his muscles bunched and flexed with each swing of the axe.
He was by far the most alluring and handsome man she had ever laid eyes upon. Too bad he wasn't hers to spend the day in bed with him teaching her all the ways a man could take a woman. She had never thought to want to mate with a man, but with Frang, that's all she could think about.
Suddenly, he stopped and turned to look at her. His chest rose and fell from his exertion. He gave her a smile before he turned back to the wood.
Kenna stepped back with a smile of her own, her middle clutching. There was something different about Frang. She couldn't lay her finger on it, but it was there.
Her mind wandered over what she had seen and learned from him as she set about making their morning meal. It wasn't until he walked into the cottage with his hair wet from a recent dunking in the rain barrel that she realised how his presence dominated.
Rarely did she share her meals with anyone. She had always hated being alone, but that was a healer's fate, one she had accepted long ago.
"You'll have firewood to last you awhile. You really should have someone come and help you around here."
"I rarely get coin in payment. Instead, I'll get chickens or pigs or an hour of a man's time to tend to the chopping or whatever else I need done."
Frang pushed strands of wet hair off his face. “Is there a lot you need done?"
"Isn't there always something to be done?” she asked with a laugh as she readied their meal.
It wasn't until they were nearly done with the meal that she felt his eyes on her. Kenna raised her gaze. “Say what is on your mind."
"Why don't I stay for a few days and see about fixing some of the things you need."
Kenna sat back and regarded him. Her first reaction was o
ne of excitement that he didn't plan to leave. As much as she'd like to think he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart she had learned the hard way that people expected some kind of payment.
"What do you want in return?"
Frang winced at the hardness in her tone. He had hoped to broach the subject of him staying without causing her to think he had ulterior motives. He sighed and rested his arms on the table.
"Your company. And just that,” he hurried to say before she could get a word in. “I'm in no hurry to continue to my destination. Also, I like it here. I like you. I want nothing more from you than conversation and a nice meal."
She regarded him warily. Suspiciously. Was he mistaken in the desire he had seen in her eyes yesterday? Did he want her so badly he was reading more into Kenna's touches than what they were—a healer using her abilities?
"I'm not helpless,” she said. “I can take care of myself."
Frustration spiked through him."Like you did with those three men ready to have their way with you?"
"I had a dagger in my basket,” she said defensively.
"A weapon in your basket isn't worth much if the basket gets taken or knocked away. You need it somewhere on you at all times."
"Like where?"
"Strap it to your leg under your skirts where no one knows you have a weapon. It puts you at an advantage, which is what you need."
"A good suggestion. I'll do that."
"Do you know how to use the dagger?"
She laughed. “If you mean could I kill a man with it? Aye, I can."
"Good. As I was saying, I am simply offering my services if you so desire them. If not I will leave immediately."
Her gaze briefly lowered to the floor. When she spoke her voice was low and soft. “Only for a few days."
Frang bowed his head slightly to hide the smile he couldn't keep hidden. He hadn't known until that moment just how much he wanted to stay with her, even if he never tasted her sweet lips. “As you wish."
He rose and walked to the door before he stopped. Without turning towards her he said, “Just say the word and I'll leave forever."
He didn't wait for her response as he opened the door and stepped outside. His feet took him to the wood he had chopped. The first order of business was stacking the wood. Then, he'd see about the pen that held the pig.
* * * *
Aimery, his feet resting on his large table, looked out of his wide window at the city of Caer Rhoemyr, his thoughts on Frang.
He was so caught up in his thoughts he never heard Theron walk into the room until he stood beside the table. With a sigh Aimery chuckled at his king's grin.
"Stop gloating. It doesn't become you,” Aimery said.
Theron laughed as he leaned against the wall next to the window. “Why? I don't get to gloat often, especially not with you. So, old friend, tell me what has captured your thoughts so heavily that you didn't hear me enter the room?"
"Frang."
"Ah,” Theron said, nodding. “He's been good for the Druids. I hate that he had to leave the Glen."
"He didn't have to."
Theron turned from the window, his royal cloak of white and silver billowing behind him. “He did. Give your friend some credit. All will work out as it should."
"Will it?” Aimery asked as he dropped his feet to the floor and stood. “Too many times we've come so close to losing it all. What if this time we do?"
"It is a chance we have to take. Frang must make this journey, Aimery. You know that."
Aimery nodded reluctantly. “You tell me nothing I don't already know."
"Then trust Frang to make the right choices. He is a good man."
Aimery turned his head to Theron. “A man who shouldn't have been tricked and then cursed. You could have told him what he needed to do and given him the immortality. For three hundred years he has thought he did something wrong."
Theron moved towards the door then stopped. “We could have, but we didn't. Not all humans respond as we'd like, so we learned to deal with them as we did Frang. It has always worked. Trust that it will this time as well."
Aimery waited until his king left his office before he ran a hand down his face. He walked to the window and looked out over the royal kingdom. So often of late they had battled evil. He wanted peace, for himself and his friends on Earth.
* * * *
Unable to hold off any longer, Kenna took a goblet of water outside to Frang. She had not consciously avoided him, but then she hadn't needed to with her work as well as her clansmen coming to her for their needs. And just as her laird had promised, a patrol had been by twice to check on her.
Now there was nothing keeping her from going to Frang. She smoothed back her unruly hair from her face and grabbed the goblet as she walked from the cottage. Halfway to Frang she wished she had taken a moment to brush and replait her hair.
Then, silently chastised herself for wanting to look good for him. She was still shaking her head at herself when she turned the corner of her cottage and saw him finish righting the pen for the pig.
All thought left her as he looked over his shoulder at her and grinned a boyish, devilish grin that made her insides melt. If only she dared enough to let him know what she wanted.
Be careful, Kenna. He's leaving, and that means heartache for you.
"Ah, you must have read my mind,” Frang said as he walked towards her, stopping near the corner of the cottage.
"Wh ... what?” she stammered.
He motioned to the goblet. “My throat is parched. You must have read my mind."
Kenna forced a smiled. “Aye."
He gave her a wink just before he plunged his head in the barrel of rain water. He straightened and flipped back his hair, sending water all over her.
Kenna couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled over. Her laughter only intensified when she looked at Frang to see his long, dark hair dripping over his face and shoulders and his mouth gaping at the frigid temperature of the water.
"Just what I needed,” he said as he smoothed back his hair. “Come,” he beckoned her.
She was holding out the goblet to him when he shook his head like a dog, spraying her even more. Her laughter started all over again as she tried to shield her face while not spilling the water.
By the time she finished laughing, she had to wipe her eyes. She pushed on her cheeks to try and stop them from hurting so, yet every time she looked at Frang, she wanted to laugh again.
He now leaned against the cottage drinking his water and eying her with a sly grin that said he had done everything apurpose.
"That felt good.” Kenna moved to look at the pen, hoping Frang didn't realise how lonely her life was by that simple sentence.
He grunted in response. “Laughter sometimes is the best cure."
Kenna turned her head to look at him. “Cure for what?"
"Loneliness. Boredom. Anger. Any number of emotions."
She smiled, relieved he hadn't discovered her secret. “I agree. You did a good job on the pen. Thank you."
He shrugged. “My pleasure."
"It's nearing noon. I've fixed our meal."
He walked with her into the cottage. “You were busy this morn. Is it normally that way?"
"Not always. Some days are slower than others."
"Hmm. Is there anything in particular you'd like me to work on next?"
Kenna shrugged as she set his trencher in front of him. “You've worked hard all morning. Take the afternoon off."
"Is that what you're doing?"
Her gaze jerked to him as he sat. “In a way. I'm going to look for the herbs I wasn't able to find yesterday."
"Then I'll come with you."
She started to tell him she didn't need him, but after recalling yesterday, she changed her mind. Besides, she told herself, she'd enjoy the company.
Chapter Six
Frang leaned against a thick oak and watched Kenna walk around the forest. To the untrained eye it would appear a
s if she wandered aimlessly. But Frang knew better.
Her steps were light, almost as if she floated on the ground, afraid to disturb even one fallen leaf.
She was amazing to watch. Even when her hand went deep into briars, it came away unscathed. It wasn't just her beauty that was flawless. It was her soul. Frang was struck speechless as the realisation hit him.
Kenna was a Druid.
How he hadn't seen it immediately he didn't know, but it was laid bare before him now. It could be because she wasn't with other Druids, so didn't know how to bring out her Druid abilities.
He blew out a deep breath. She needed to be in the Glen, but he doubted she would go on her own. And he couldn't return. Not now, not ever.
Needing to turn his thoughts, Frang pushed away from the tree and walked to Kenna. “What do you search so diligently for?"
Her amber eyes glowed with surprise. “Linden. Have you heard of it?"
"Aye.” As soon as he spoke he realised he had inadvertently let her know he was much more than just a simple man. Yet, she didn't show any outward signs of surprise.
She smiled. “Good. You'll know what to look for. I've had to use much of it of late. I've had to search farther and farther from my cottage each time."
"That is a strange herb to use,” he said cautiously. In fact, many used it to kill, but he knew if used with magic there were other outcomes.
"Not so strange,” she said. “In the right doses it can kill, aye, but it can also cure fever and heal some wounds."
"I defer to your judgement as a healer.” What she said was true, but Frang couldn't shake the feeling that someone, somewhere was using this herb for other means.
As a Druid and friend of the Fae he felt compelled to learn who and why. Then put a stop to it. In whatever manner he had to.
"Do you mind if I ask who is using the herb?"
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her pause and glance at him, but he kept his attention on the ground searching for the elusive plant.
"The bulk of the use is at the castle,” she finally answered. “Why?"
He shrugged. “I'm curious by nature. Any time something is used more than others I find myself wondering why.” He hoped she bought the lie. “Are many of the soldiers wounded then?"
