The Highlander’s Promise (The Highlands Warring Scottish Romance) (A Medieval Historical Romance Book)

by Anne Morrison

  chapter 34

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  In another world, Nicholas suspected that he would have liked Roark very much. The man had a calm away about him, something easy in his gait and a sense of humor lurking in the corners of his generous mouth.

  Of course, they had met in this world, and when the heir of Clan Blair stood on the path in front of him, the only thing he felt was a simmer of rage.

  By his side, Ava froze. For a moment, it looked as if she shrank back against Cobie's bulk for protection, but then she stepped forward.

  “Roark. What are you doing here this morning?”

  “Your father called me down from the high pasture last night. Imagine my surprise when he told me that you were legitimate. And that you would be trying to leave with your Englishman.”

  Ava scowled.

  “You can't think that you want to marry me, Roark.”

  “You're a beautiful woman. Why not?”

  Nicholas might have stepped up to him then and there, but Ava laughed scornfully.

  “I'm not an idiot. You are baiting me.”

  “Perhaps. But I know that nothing is going to get settled on this path where I am playing brigand. We need to return to the keep and talk about this. Surely, you know that this changes everything.”

  Ava shook her head, and the way a man could feel a storm rising up at sea, Nicholas could feel fear and anger rising up from her. He might have forgiven the anger. Anger was as much a part of Ava as it was a part of him.

  However, Ava was never meant to be afraid, and the fact that she was now filled him with fury.

  “It changes nothing,” Ava insisted. “It changes nothing for me. I am leaving. I was never a part of Clan Blair; not like you were.”

  Roark's face went hard.

  “You turned away from Clan Blair. No one decided that for you. You used bastardy as your excuse.”

  “Don't you dare say that! You have no idea what it was like.”

  “No? So, tell me?”

  “Enough.”

  Nicholas's voice was low, but it was hard enough to cut through their quarrel. He could see the shape of it. Neither of them would defeat the other, but that didn't matter. There was only one person here that he cared about, that he had any interest in helping at all. He strode forward, putting himself between Ava and Roark.

  “Nicholas,” Ava said softly. “Don't.”

  Roark gave him a look that was frankly unimpressed.

  “This is none of your affair, Englishman. You have not found the child you are looking for here, and now you must move on. Clan Blair cares little for the warring to the south, but we care very much when outsiders try to come into our affairs. This is none of your business.”

  “Ava is my business,” Nicholas snapped. “She wants to leave, and that is enough for me. Nothing else matters. You will stand aside.”

  For a single moment, Nicholas thought that Roark would. The other man wasn't an idiot. He did not seem cruel. Ava was his cousin, and even if they were currently at loggerheads, it was clear that they cared for one another.

  Then Roark reached behind the stones close by and hefted a battle-axe in his hands meaningfully. It was an enormous weapon, a savage ancient thing. Nicholas could see from the way Roark handled it that he was used to its immense weight and the power it took to use it well. It was a weapon designed to end lives.

  “Best you move on,” Roark said with a dark look. “I have no wish to spill your blood here, but I will.”

  “Save your wishes,” Nicholas retorted, and his sword was in his own hands.

  Later on, he would say that he only wished to show Roark that Ava would not be bullied, and that he wasn't afraid of Roark's threat. Instead, Roark started forward with a growl of fury, and Nicholas has no interest in making it only a show of force.

  Roark brought the battle-axe down with a force that would have split Nicholas in two if he had waited for the blow to fall, but of course, he hadn't. Nicholas knew that there was no way he could stand under the force of Roark's weighty ax, not with his own sword. Instead, he dodged and spun, bringing his own sword around as quickly as he could.

  Roark turned out to be faster than Nicholas had anticipated. He was used to men of Roark's size being slow. They would turn slowly, and they would take more time than a smaller man to land a second blow. Nicholas fell back with a curse when he realized that Roark was almost as fast as Nicholas himself, bringing his ax around in another sweeping blow.

  Nicholas dodged it, making the other man laugh.

  “Not such a bad fighter,” Roark observed. “Maybe you were keeping up with Ava after all. I thought she was the one protecting you.”

  “I’ve survived battles since I was sixteen, I survived the French at Calais, and I will certainly survive you.”

  Nicholas feinted, going for a sweeping blow to Roark's leg, but the man leaped back and came down with the ax again. This time, when it came down, however, Nicholas was ready.

  He stepped up to Roark's left side, and while Roark was fending off his sword, Nicholas fetched him a hard blow on the side of the head with his bare fist. It was enough to knock other men unconscious, but Roark shook it off.

  “Shall we brawl with our fists?” he called to Nicholas. He pushed Nicholas back along the path with a flurry of almost unbelievably fast swings.

  Nicholas swore.

  “I don't want to fight you, I want you to leave Ava alone,” he snarled, and he circled Roark again. If he could only get close enough to the larger man, if he could only lay Roark's defenses open.

  Suddenly, Roark let out a cry of shock and seemed to stumble back over nothing. Nicholas hesitated, torn between knightly chivalry and a very thorough knowledge that this might be their only chance to get away from the warrior.

  In the end, he needn't have worried. Ava rose up behind Roark as he fell, a grimly satisfied expression on her face. Nicholas realized that she must have come up behind him, kicking the bend of his knee to make him buckle to the ground.

  For a moment, Nicholas was sure she was going to slit the other man's throat, but then her dagger was in her hand, the handle reversed. She struck Roark a stunning blow with the pommel of her dagger, and Roark folded as neatly as a blanket. Nicholas was almost certain he made the ground tremble as he fell.

  “You were always terrible figuring out where the real threat was,” Ava said to her cousin. “Maybe an aching head will teach you better next time.”

  Ava turned to Nicholas, and her blue eyes were perfectly unreadable. He couldn't tell if she was grieved by her cousin's defeat or regretful or exultant.

  “Ava?”

  “Let's go. Roark always believed in his own strength too much to think about bringing allies along to a fight, but sooner or later, he will be missed, or I will be. We can make good time out of the mountains if we go now.”

  Something trembled at the back of her tone, making him uneasy, something she was not letting herself say or acknowledge. As Nicholas could attest to himself, that was something that could lead to a great deal of trouble later on.

  At this moment, however, Roark Blair was lying dazed on the ground behind them and all the wild roads of Scotland were stretched out in front of them. Nicholas knew that it would be some time yet before he could get an answer out of Ava. It would be some time before she could likely even give him an answer.

  Wordlessly, he nodded and followed her down the trail.

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  chapter 35

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  They traveled in silence, sometimes riding double on Cobie, sometimes walking along the trail. They came out of the mountains some time before noon. Instead of stopping to eat, they ate as they walked.

  “Will they come after us?” Nicholas wondered.

  Ava smiled briefly at him.

  “They will, but it will take some time, I think. My father has played his cards close to the chest for years, and he w
ill not want to tell the truth to the clan until he thinks the time is right.”

  Nicholas was silent, but she could almost feel his eyes on her when her back was turned. She knew that he wanted answers, but she also knew that she had none to give.

  She was legitimate. She had spent so long telling herself that she was living the life she wanted. She had always known that she was luckier than other women whose birth and marriages chained them to the land, to a child every year and a life that was ruled by a man who might be out soldiering more than half the year.

  How do I feel now that there is another option?

  There was a kind of humiliation to it. Would she have become what she did if there was a choice? Was she only proud because the other option was to be helpless and wanting something she couldn't have?

  I am me. I am still the cattle raider they tell stories about along the eastern dales. I have done everything that I have done, and no matter why I did it, no one can take that away from me.

  Ava jumped when Nicholas reached out to touch her shoulder.

  “What?”

  “You are brooding,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “The world is what it is, and you are what you are. I wouldn't have you any different.”

  “You wouldn't have your guide to lead you north and to get you in all this trouble, you mean.”

  “No, not at all.”

  She could have used a fight to clear her head, but Nicholas didn't seem inclined to give her one. He kept his eyes on her, but it was an easy weight to bear. She realized absently that she did not mind when he looked at her like that. She liked it, and that was its own shock.

  By the time they were ready to make camp for the night, Ava felt as if she had spent the day running about in circles, like a cat chasing her own tail. She was exhausted, but at the same time, she felt as if she were full of pent-up energy. She wanted to fight, she wanted to run, but since she could do neither, she stepped straight up to Nicholas after the fire had been built.

  “We have supplies to get us as far as—”

  Nicholas's words were cut off when she grabbed the front of his tunic and yanked him down for a hard kiss. Even surprised, it was sweet, and he opened his mouth hungrily to devour hers before he pushed her back.

  “Ava!”

  “What?” she asked impatiently, glaring up at him.

  “You're upset, you are angry at your clan...”

  “And that has nothing to do with anything,” she spat. “I don't want to think about them anymore. I want you.”

  She had meant to say the last as a demand, but it came out like a plea instead. Ava was horrified to hear the note of need in her voice. She wanted to set them both afire with longing, to make them both burn. She didn't want to be this sad thing who made Nicholas's eyes go soft with concern.

  “Never mind,” she growled, turning around. Why, were there tears in her eyes? She refused to let Nicholas see them.

  “Ava, wait...”

  No,” she spat furiously. “Either you want me right now, or you let me sleep. There's no room in me for anything else tonight.”

  She was ready for him to turn her away. After all, she was acting like a madwoman. She thought that they would sleep on either side of the fire. Perhaps by morning this fit would have passed, and she would be whole again. Then she could lift her head without embarrassment and just be herself again. That was all she wanted.

  “All right.”

  “All right?” Ava echoed.

  “All right. Yes. I will make love to you. But we'll do what I want.”

  In the darkness of the trees and firelight, Ava felt her cheeks burn at that. There was a sensual promise in Nicholas's voice that made her belly tighten with need and desire. She knew in her heart that he would not let her down, not in this at least, and she gave herself over to it.

  “All right,” she said, her mouth dry.

  Ava started to lie down, but Nicholas stopped her.

  “Stay where you are.”

  She opened her mouth to ask him why, but then she gasped instead as he lifted her tunic over her head.

  “Oh!”

  One moment she was clothed, and the next she was naked to the waist, her tunic laid to one side and her breasts bare to the firelight. She gasped lightly as Nicholas came in front of her, cupping her small breasts in his large warm hands. There was a chill to the night, but the heat they both gave off kept her from noticing.

  “So beautiful,” Nicholas murmured. He stroked his thumbs over her nipples until they stood erect, Ava trembling with the sparks of desire that shot through her.

  “Didn't you think I was a boy when you first saw me?”

  “I was out of my mind with a fever, and you were actually pretending to be a boy.”;

  Ava started to respond to that, but then Nicholas ran his nails over the sensitive curves of her breasts, making her hiss with sensation.

  “I think I know what you want tonight,” he murmured, and the sensual promise in his voice made Ava whimper a little.

  “I think that you want to be overwhelmed. I think that you want to be so full of sensation that you do not have to think about what is behind you or what is in front of you. Would that be correct?”

  She was too slow to answer, because he squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making her groan. It wasn't pain, not exactly. It was sudden pleasure, so much of it that Ava cried out.

  “Is that correct?”

  “Yes!”

  “Good. I thought so. So right now, Ava, I am going to give you what you need. I am going to wear you out, and then we are going to sleep. Perhaps tomorrow you will have to think about some of these things. But tonight... tonight, you are all mine. Do you understand?”

  She had learned her lesson and nodded hastily. However, it seemed as if obedience wasn't going to help her. Nicholas pinched her other nipple, and when she gasped, he leaned in to kiss her open mouth.

  Ava could feel herself swaying against Nicholas. In this moment, it felt as if her body was only made for one thing, and that was to feel the way that Nicholas wanted her to feel. She could never have imagined this before, never thought that she would want to give herself over to a man.

  That was before she had met Nicholas. Nicholas changed everything.

  “I want to see you,” Nicholas purred, and then before she knew what was happening, he was stripping the rest of her clothes off.

  She stood in front of him naked, her body bare in the firelight, while he was still clothed. Her hands came up to cover herself, but Nicholas pulled them down with a dark laugh.

  “No. I said I want to see.”

  Ava took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could feel his gaze on her as if it was a physical touch. It felt like a kind of surrender, letting him look over her as if she were a prize mare or some treasure he had captured while off at war.

  “Beautiful,” Nicholas muttered approvingly.

  He came in close again to kiss her. It was a reward, and she leaned into the kiss with a hunger that made him laugh a little.

  “Can you feel how much I want you, darling? I always want you. It is something that never leaves me. I dream of you, and my body remembers your touch even if I think that loving you must be the most foolish thing I have ever done.”

  The word love woke her out of her daze slightly. Then Nicholas's hand took hers, pressing it between his legs. She gasped when she felt how very hard he was already. It was one thing to hear that he wanted her. It was quite another to know it through the very marrow of her bones.

  She groaned, her fingers flexing around his manhood, drawing a similar cry from him. She bit her lip at how hard he already was and at the size of him. He needed her just as she needed him. Perhaps that was why she was not afraid to be so vulnerable with this man.

  Nicholas lay her out on her back on the pallet by the fire. He removed his clothes with an unconscious grace, and when he was naked, Ava felt a deep need come over her.

  “You are so
beautiful,” she murmured, and he smiled at her, not saying a word.

  He stretched on his side next to her, kissing her leisurely as his hand passed up and down her body. He was only toying with her, like a cat would a mouse, and it wound the desire that threaded through her tighter and tighter.

  His mouth roved from her lips to her throat and then down to her breasts. Something told her to keep her hands to herself. As much as she wanted to touch him in return, she held back. Her hands were fists by her sides, but she let him touch and embrace her to his heart's content.

  She was terribly aware of his manhood pressed against her hip, telling her that all of his leisure was a lie. He wanted her burning, and she could bear the desire in her because she knew that a similar fire burned through him.

  Ava whimpered softly when he parted her legs, his hand coming down to cup her soft flesh.

  “You are so precious to me,” he murmured.

  “Because no one else has ever touched me?” she teased.

  He shook his head.

  “I could have been the first or I could have come after a hundred. All I know, all I can feel in my heart, is that there is no greater honor than touching you like this, than having you want me so much.”

  For some reason, his words made her throat tighten, almost as if she were going to cry, but that was ridiculous, wasn't it? Then his fingers slid along her opening, making them both aware of how very warm and wet she was. After that, Ava couldn't think of anything at all.

  It felt like he took an eternity to touch her, his fingers bringing her right to the edge of her climax and then drawing back at what felt like the last moment. He had done it on the ship, but now she knew she couldn't take it.

  “Don't,” she whimpered brokenly.

  Nicholas pulled back slightly.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head.

  “No... only I need you. Need you so much, Nicholas, with me.”

  He seemed to understand her plea. He came over her, his weight pressing her down into the pallet. It should have been crushing, but instead it felt like everything she had ever wanted. It was pure pleasure, and then he entered her with one fierce stroke.