Bound to a Warrior

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Bound to a Warrior Page 4

by Donna Fletcher


  “You’ll stay off those feet,” he said as if he just passed an edict.

  Authoritative tones did not rankle Mercy, as she knew well how to deal with them. Besides, the prospect of not having to walk another step was just too appealing to deny. But there was one thing he forgot.

  “That means you’ll be doing the same,” she said, rattling the chain.

  “Damn,” he mumbled and abruptly stopped.

  While annoyance sparked his dark eyes, worry was quick to wrinkle the arch between his eyes. It embedded itself deep. That he could feel such concern for her had Mercy wishing that she could reach up and caress his worries away.

  She did with words what she couldn’t do with a touch. “Your thoughtfulness touches my heart and I truly appreciate it, but let us get done with what we must and then we both can rest my weary feet.”

  He smiled. “You are a rare beauty in more ways than one.”

  She sighed a bit dramatically. “I’ll never grow tired of your compliments.”

  “I’ll never stop giving them.”

  Her heart gave a little ache, for his compliments would stop when finally they separated. She silently chastised herself. Hadn’t she been taught to rely on no one, particularly a man? She had to keep her wits about her if she were to survive.

  “We best get settled,” she said reluctantly, since she found comfort and safety in his arms.

  She noticed that he released her hesitantly, but then perhaps it was the warmth of their bodies he unwillingly surrendered.

  They decided on a secluded spot in a grove of shrub. They suffered a few scratches to gain entrance, but the protection it offered was worth the small wounds. They made quick work of putting together a bed of leaves; and while both were beginning to feel the chill of the setting sun, neither was willing to build a campfire and tempt being caught.

  When night completely claimed dominance over the day, they sat on the bed, the worn, warm wool blanket wrapped snugly around them, and enjoyed the remainder of the food. It wasn’t much, but it was a feast to them.

  “It took such little time for the soldiers to discover that we survived,” she said with concern. “Do you think it will delay our journey to your home?”

  Duncan nodded, swallowing the last piece of his portion of cheese. “No doubt. We’ll need to stay off the well-traveled roads, but my main concern is that the soldiers have stopped at most of the farms in the area, robbing them of the tools that can set us free.”

  “I never thought of that,” she admitted.

  “And news travels fast in these parts. It will be known soon enough that Bailey and his wife left their farm in fear of their lives for helping us.”

  “Which means no one will want to offer us assistance.”

  “It’s not that they don’t want to,” Duncan said. “They’re just too afraid of the consequences.”

  “So we’re on our own,” she said and handed him her last piece of bread. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  He took it, though he didn’t eat it. He held it to her lips. “If we both are to survive, we both must remain strong and that takes nourishment. Eat.”

  Though her stomach no longer yearned for food, she did as he asked, for he was right. She had to fortify her body when possible, since there was no telling when next they would eat.

  A chilly crispness filled the night air, though Mercy wasn’t as cold as last night, but then she had been naked, her clothes soaking wet. And tonight they even had a blanket to help keep them warm.

  She didn’t stop to think whether they would snuggle together for warmth once again, it seemed to be expected. Once stretched out on the pallet of leaves they nestled together in each other’s arms with the comfort of old lovers reunited.

  “Much warmer than last night,” Duncan said, “even without a fire.”

  “And our stomachs are at least somewhat satisfied,” she added. “So it seems that our lot has improved.”

  His arm tightened around her. “For now, but our journey is far from over.”

  She nestled her cheek against his chest, the familiar scent comforting. “We work well together, therefore, we will do well together.”

  He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “We make a good pair.”

  Mercy laid in silence listening to Duncan’s steady breathing while sleep crept over her. His words danced in her thoughts and she smiled.

  They did make a good pair. How sad that they would have to part.

  Chapter 5

  Duncan woke early the next day, and though he would have much preferred to let Mercy remain comfortably snuggled in his arms, he knew he couldn’t. He had to get her feet bandaged and they had to get moving. There was no telling where the soldiers were by now, or if a larger contingent was sent to track them. Besides, not being able to travel the main roads would surely hamper their progress.

  He hesitated a moment more, lingering in the warmth of her body pressed so intimately against his. They might not be naked this time, but that didn’t stop him from remembering the swell and curves of her enticing body. He would not at all mind coupling with her.

  He silently cursed his own tempting thoughts that instantly turned him hard. And he didn’t favor Mercy waking to his arousal pressed against her. They had enough to concern themselves with, without her needing to worry that he’d take advantage of her. Not that he wanted to take advantage of her. He rather hoped it would be a mutual coupling.

  Stop thinking about it, you fool!

  That’s right, he silently berated himself. Keep it up and—

  He shook his head, taking his own words the wrong way and making him harder than ever. There was only one way out of this.

  He pulled away from Mercy abruptly saying, “Wake up. We need to get started.”

  Startled, Mercy bolted up, hurriedly rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said curtly. “We just need to be on our way. No telling how many soldiers are on our trail.”

  She yawned, rolled her shoulders and winced. “I miss a soft mattress.”

  “Lucky you are that you once had one. I’ve had no more than a pallet.”

  For a moment she appeared a bit anxious, but recovered quickly. “Nothing lasts forever.”

  “What of love?” he asked.

  “What of it?”

  “Love lasts forever.”

  Again she startled, though didn’t recover as quickly. “You truly believe that?”

  “Don’t you?”

  She shrugged. “Men love when it’s convenient for them.”

  “Not all men.”

  “You have never told a woman you loved her for the sake of the moment?” she asked.

  “No. Never,” he answered tersely. “There is only one woman I will pledge my love to and that is the woman I take as my wife. She will be my partner, my lover, my mate for life. I will love no other but her, and she will love no other but me.”

  “Then she will certainly be a lucky woman,” Mercy said.

  “And I will be a lucky man.”

  She leaned forward, closer to him, nervously chewing at her bottom lip as if she was uncertain to reveal something, so he was rather disappointed when she said, “You’re right. We better get going.”

  “I’ll tend your feet,” he said, reaching for the sack that had held their food.

  Mercy took the sack from him and began tearing off a strip. “I can manage it myself.”

  He would have protested, but she looked determined and there was no time to argue. They truly did need to get started.

  When she finished, he noticed that she winced when she slipped her boots on and it bothered him to know that the day’s journey might prove painful for her.

  She held up the sack. “I just took some off the top edge. This way the sack is still useful to us.”

  Duncan snatched the blanket up, folded it, then shoved it in the sack. “How are your feet?”

  “They will do fine.”

  He had
to smile at her determination. “You’ll let me know if they become too painful.”

  She was about to respond when an unfamiliar noise startled them both. Duncan motioned for her to remain silent and she nodded.

  Suddenly a hare hopped into their lair so fast that Mercy would have screeched if Duncan hadn’t clamped his hand over her mouth. He cautioned silence with wide eyes and a shake of his head. For an animal to scurry in fright could mean only one thing…something chased it.

  “You fool, you missed it,” a male voice chastised.

  “It’s around here somewhere. I’ll get it,” said the other man with gruff irritation.

  “It’s long gone and I’m long hungry,” the other fellow complained. “Now let’s do what I said and get us some fish to fill our empty bellies.”

  Duncan removed his hand from Mercy’s mouth and leaned forward to peer through the brushes as best he could without stirring them. The hare remained where he had landed as if he sensed it was a safe spot.

  “I’m telling you the two are dead,” the one said. “I don’t know why we have to waste time looking for dead people.”

  “You want to tell the king that?”

  The man must have shaken his head since the one fellow spoke again.

  “Fine. Then let’s get our bellies fed.”

  “No need to hurry,” the man complained. “The dead ones aren’t going anywhere.”

  Their footfalls finally faded to nothing, but Duncan and Mercy, along with the hare, remained perfectly still and silent. None of them wanted to take the chance of being caught. Finally, the hare made the first move, hopping off.

  Still, Duncan chose to whisper. “We need to move fast and quietly.”

  Mercy nodded.

  “Stay extra close so that the chain does not make noise,” he said.

  Watching every step they took, Duncan and Mercy left the protective covering of the bushes and quietly made their way in the woods, opposite from where the two soldiers had gone.

  It was at least three hours before either of them spoke. And it was with a quick nod to the heavens that Duncan said, “A storm brews.”

  “Then we best pick up the pace,” Mercy said, doing just that.

  Duncan matched her new rhythm, having thought the same himself. But then the will to survive could certainly produce parallel thoughts. Or was it that they were similar in nature, thus thought alike?

  How odd that they should work so well as a pair when they barely knew each other. Normally, it took time to get to know one another and yet it seemed that Mercy and he were far from strangers, or even acquaintances. They were more like old friends who long understood each other. And yet he knew little about her.

  The thought had him asking, “Will your family search for you?”

  “The last of my family is gone.”

  He almost halted in his tracks, but caught himself and kept his pace. “If you have no family, where will you go?”

  “I have friends,” she said.

  He noticed her response held a hint of hesitation. Assuming her situation was more precarious than she admitted, he offered her a safety net.

  “You are welcome to remain with my people as long as you’d like.”

  “That’s kind of you, and while I may rest my weary feet for a few days, I will no doubt soon be on my way.”

  He smiled and said, “As you wish.”

  However, he had no intention of letting her take her leave on her own. A beautiful woman just wouldn’t be safe traveling alone and for some reason he felt her safety his responsibility.

  A crack of thunder had them both stopping abruptly and casting anxious glances to the heavens.

  “It won’t be long before the rain starts,” Mercy said.

  Duncan was conflicted. He wanted desperately to forge ahead regardless of the weather, gaining as much ground as they could. He doubted the storm would stop the soldiers, which would make travel even more dangerous for him and Mercy.

  He knew their chance of survival would increase the closer they got to his home. Sentinels were kept posted on the far perimeters of the land just for that reason, to make certain that approaching clansmen reached home safely.

  “You don’t want to stop, do you?” Mercy asked.

  He voiced his concern. “I doubt the soldiers will stop.”

  “Then we can’t.”

  “We’ll get soaked again,” he said.

  “That doesn’t matter,” she said. “We keep going and dry out when we can.”

  He grinned. “I wouldn’t mind you naked in my arms again.”

  “Enjoy it while you can, Highlander, nothing lasts forever.”

  He surprised himself when without forethought, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her up against him, settling his mouth close to hers.

  “Love,” he whispered. “Love lasts forever.”

  A startling crack of thunder should have broken them apart, but it didn’t. They remained pressed against each other, their eyes locked and their lips so close that one small pucker, and they would kiss.

  It wasn’t the first falling raindrop, but a few fat ones that finely separated them and had them quickly resuming their journey. They kept ahead of the storm for a distance until the heavy rain caught up with them and in no time they were both soaked through.

  It didn’t stop them though, they kept going, their clothes soaked to their skin, their hair dripping with rain. Duncan glanced her way now and again and wondered if perhaps the torturous ordeal would bring her to tears. But when he looked, he couldn’t tell if she was crying, since rain was falling continuously down her face.

  It wasn’t until several hours later when the storm grew worse, the wind howling and whipping around them so severely that Duncan tucked Mercy in the corner of his arm and bent his body partially over her to protect her from the ruthless squall, then decided they had no choice but to stop.

  They were lucky to stumble upon a small cave. It was barely big enough for the both of them, but at least it offered shelter from the storm.

  “We need a fire,” Mercy said, shivering.

  Duncan was already looking to see if the cave had anything else to offer them, and he smiled when he saw enough small broken branches to serve well as kindling. He didn’t have to say a word to her; she must have followed his glance as they bent together and began picking up the wood to start a fire.

  They kept the campfire near the mouth of the cave, though far enough back so that the rain and wind wouldn’t disturb it. As soon as Duncan got the fire going, he removed the blanket from the wet sack and with Mercy’s help spread it nearby to dry. Then they huddled together in front of the flames.

  “We made good distance until we were forced to stop,” Mercy said and quick as a wink slipped her blouse over her head and twisted the rainwater out of it. “Hurry and do the same,” she urged. “We’ll hold my blouse and your shirt by the fire and hopefully they might dry enough for us to put them back on tonight.

  He didn’t protest, especially since he worried that if her full, bouncy breasts and those tight hard nipples stared at him for the entire evening, he would do something regrettably foolish.

  Duncan followed her leave in rubbing himself dry with his free hand, at least the top part of him. He had yet to remove his plaid and actually didn’t want to. While the wet wool dampened his desires, it certainly couldn’t keep entire control of it. And every time she leaned over closer to the fire, her breasts swinging loose and free in front of her, he ached to reach out and cup one in his hand.

  He could almost feel the mound resting heavily in his hand and then all he’d have to do is run his thumb over that taut nipple and–

  “Watch out!” she yelled and yanked their chained wrists back. “Wet or not, you near singed your shirt on the flames.”

  She stirred restless. “We best shed the rest of our wet garments.”

  “That’s going to be a problem.”

  “Why?’

  He was blunt. “I want nothi
ng more right now than to lower you to the ground and couple with you.”

  Chapter 6

  Mercy froze, her mouth agape, staring at Duncan. “That’s not going to happen.”

  Duncan shook his head, running his fingers through his long hair and squeezing the water out the ends before he asked, “Why?”

  She didn’t know how to respond and floundered in an attempt to supply an adequate answer.

  “I could understand if you believed in love,” he said with a casual shrug. “But since you don’t, why not enjoy a good toss when you can get it?”

  Again she couldn’t find the right words and she wondered was it because she didn’t know herself? If love remained in question for her, whatever was she waiting for?

  “Your silence confirms that you have no answer.” He reached out and ran a gentle finger along the side of her face. “It also tells me that you probably have never been intimate with a man and you’re simply frightened of the first time. I promise you that you would enjoy me nestled between your legs.”

  Mercy brushed his hand away, his once tender touch now feeling more like a branding iron. She had no intentions of being like her mother, branded by a man and subjected to his whim.

  “Why is no concern of yours,” she snapped.

  “Besides being courageous, you’re feisty. I like that.”

  She reached out and poked his bare chest. It was solid and made her realize that wit was called for rather than anger. “And I like that you’re chivalrous.”

  “You’re forever going to remind me of that, aren’t you?”

  “As often as necessary,” she said with a smile.

  “If you should change your mind—”

  “I shall let you know.”

  “How?” he asked with a teasing glint.

  “Why, I shall simply tell you, of course.”

  “You’ll tell me that you want to couple with me,” he said as if confirming her response. “You will say it clearly so it could not be misunderstood.”

  Mercy took a step closer to him, though not close enough that they should touch. She then reached out and did what she had seen her mother do time and again to the man who had kept her. She caressed his lips with the tip of her finger over and over and over again as she said, “I want you, Duncan. I want you now.”

 

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