Taming a Highland Stallion: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Beasts Of The Highlands Book 8)

by Alisa Adams

  That worried him.

  She had tried to kill him not that long ago.

  He continued coming towards her, his long, muscular legs encased in tall leather boots taking big strides across the room.

  He had gotten past the harpy of a housekeeper downstairs too easily. Caden knew there was something wrong when the housekeeper had let all the help go and would not let anyone see her mistress.

  Caden stood over her bed, looking down at her.

  She stared back up at him, shrinking away, panic showing in her once fierce eyes.

  His instincts had been right. Catriona was pale and had dark shadows under her wide green eyes. She had lost a concerning amount of weight. Her bright, golden-blonde hair had been cut. Probably by that healer again, he thought with a scowl. It was short around her face, similar to when he had first met her. But the curls were now limp, listless, and damp with sweat, just like Catriona.

  Gone was the vibrant girl who had threatened to kill him.

  Caden placed his big hand on her forehead.

  “Are ye gaunnie kill me then?” Cat said weakly as she looked up at him with an attempt at fierceness on her face. “Like you tried to kill me friend Kaithria?” Cat said hoarsely through dry, parched lips. She swatted ineffectively at his hand on her head.

  “Kaithria is my sister. I will never try to harm her again. I was a fool,” Caden said in a husky voice as he studied her face. He tried to hide his alarm. “You are burning up, Catriona,” he said in a gruff voice.

  “Why do you care?” Cat’s voice cracked as she pulled away from him.

  “You are a friend to my sister. You fought beside her and defended her.” He paused, his eyes traveling over her face and short hair. “She asked me to come.”

  “You mean Kaithria made ye come,” she said hoarsely.

  He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “You are too hot,” Caden stated in his clipped, deep voice.

  Cat weakly lifted her hand and pointed towards the windows. “No one will open them,” she said with a frown as her voice cracked.

  Caden went over to the windows. He pushed aside a curtain and studied the wooden shutters behind the curtain, blocking the window. He peered through them to the glass window. They were locked. From the outside. That is unusual, he thought as he examined the makeshift lock through the glass.

  He turned back and looked around the dimly lit, feminine, delicately decorated room. He prowled around slowly like a big, powerful cat. Touching this and that. He knew she was watching him with her fever bright eyes.

  He came back to the bed with a pitcher meant for water that he had found on a small table beside the empty fireplace on the far side of the room. He tilted the pitcher and peered into its depths, sniffing the small amount of liquid at the bottom. It was water, but there was very little of it. There was also an empty cup he had taken that was sitting beside the pitcher.

  Both had been far away from the girl lying in the large bed.

  Caden scowled as he poured the last of the water into the cup and gently put his hand behind her head to lift her off the pillows.

  She moaned and made a motion as if to slap him away from her.

  “Hush, fierce one. Drink this,” Caden said in a low voice. “I know you still want to kill me but you will have to wait to do that until you are well.”

  Caden heard her grumble something unintelligible after she drank the water he offered. Her eyes were sliding closed as the sweat trickled down her pale face. Caden smiled grimly, thinking fast as he glanced around her room once more.

  He needed to cool her body down.

  He bent down and scooped her up into his arms. She seemed to weigh nothing as he held her easily. She mumbled something briefly but then her head lolled against his shoulder. She lay quiet and trusting in his arms.

  Or she had fainted.

  Caden walked quickly out of her bedchamber, carrying her down the hallway and down the stairs to the entrance hall. He slowed as he passed the parlor. He could hear his sister, Kaithria, and her friend Lady Gillis arguing with the housekeeper. The housekeeper was still insisting that Lady Catriona could not have any visitors, but much more vehemently now.

  Caden’s eyes narrowed. He was very glad he had not waited for that harpy’s permission to see Catriona. She needed help, and fast. He glanced down at her pale lifeless face as he walked out the front door. Her eyes were still closed; she was as limp as a rag in his arms. His jaw tightened as he took bigger strides.

  He wanted to see those bright green eyes again, glaring at him and threatening him with death as she stood there with her spine straight, holding her chin high with nothing to fight him with but her own fierce determination and a claymore she could barely lift, even when healthy and strong.

  He wanted to see her oddly short, golden-blonde curls shining brightly in the sunlight and blowing about her heart-shaped face. He had never gotten over the annoying and persistent desire to tangle his fingers in those short, lively, gold curls. She had been so alive then, so joyous about life, so passionate. He had never met anyone like her. She was so fierce and determined in everything, and so...happy.

  To see her now, he understood his sister Kaithria’s concern and her plea asking for his help.

  He had been asked to do this for his sister. But seeing the once fierce girl this way, he vowed to help. He vowed to see her well again. He meant to see this through if it was the last thing he did on this earth.

  It had annoyed and confused him, this unwanted feeling he had about his sister’s friend. He knew he must reject this unfamiliar interest that had plagued him for this lively girl from that first day when she had glared fiercely up at him as she tried to lift that ridiculously large sword.

  He walked across the courtyard with her in his arms, and down a small grassy hill until he came to a wide, sandy bank along the burn that flowed into the bay and the sea beyond.

  No one had stopped him.

  Sanside House was suspiciously empty of help. He had just walked out carrying the mistress of the house with no one there to care, no one to question what he was doing with their mistress.

  Caden gently set Catriona down in the sand and sat down beside her. She had only a thin chemise on. The breezes ruffled the cloth gently over her slender body and his jaw tightened at the beautiful vision before him.

  He looked away. His sister had asked for his help, he reminded himself. In truth, it was a small favor for having tried to kill his own sister.

  He hastily pulled his boots and linen shirt off. He stood up, bent over, and picked the thin girl back up in his arms.

  Sards! She is burning up, he thought as he walked into the cool, rippling waters of the burn.

  He carried her through the shallows of the burn, wading out deeper, and then deeper still until he was standing in the middle of the flowing water. His kilt would get soaked but he did not care. He stood almost to his thighs in the water, holding her carefully, like a precious treasure. Slowly and gently he knelt down on one knee, letting the cool water flow over her overheated body.

  Caden watched her face. She gasped softly and let out a small moan as her eyes slowly fluttered open. She looked up at him through feverish, too bright eyes.

  “Caden Zahrah Keith,” she whispered. “Thank you…” she sighed as she closed her eyes again.

  “Nay, fierce one,” he growled. “Open your eyes. I command it!” he said roughly, hearing the worry and fear in his voice.

  Caden did not know what this sickness was that Catriona had. He only knew he was not willing to let this woman go, to sink into the darkness of oblivion that he read in her eyes. This small woman meant a great deal to his sister Kaithria. She had helped his sister, saved her really. She had also fought those that had attacked his sister and staunchly and loyally defended Kaithria when she had no one, not even her own brother. Catriona had even threatened his own life multiple times in her protection of Kaithria.

  Catriona was a unique woman. This is what he knew and felt
in his gut. He had never known the likes of such actions, such loyalty, even between the soldiers in his life.

  He had given his vow to his sister that he would do what he could.

  Seeing Catriona in this weak state caused a raw feeling inside.

  A sense of terrifying urgency pushed at him.

  He dunked her fully under the water this time, shaking her slightly.

  He lifted her and watched as the water sluiced off her face and over her gold curls.

  Catriona gasped and tensed in his arms. Then she flailed her arms and legs, kicking and splashing at the water.

  “What are ye doing?” she sputtered as she blinked the water out of her eyes, and pushed her curls off her face.

  “Cooling you off. You are burning up, Catriona,” Caden said calmly.

  Cat looked around. “Why are we in the middle of the burn?” she asked in confusion.

  She happened to glance at his chest. Her eyes remained focused on the golden skin pressed closely against her own. She tried to speak but no words came out. She tried again. This time it came out in a strangled whisper.

  “Why are ye not wearing a shirt?” She managed to speak even though she could not pull her eyes away from his magnificent, broad, heavily muscled, tanned chest.

  Caden’s lips lifted into the slightest of smiles. “We are in the water to cool you off. I am not wearing a shirt because we are in the water.”

  Cat frowned and looked up into his light brown, tawny eyes. He had the most fascinating streaks of gold running through those eyes. Once again she could not find the words she wanted. Her mind cleared a bit as she looked around at the water flowing gently past them. She tensed and pushed at his rock-hard chest.

  “Put me down, ye are trying to drown me! Ye are a murder!” she tried to say loudly, though her voice cracked.

  “I am not a murderer,” he grumbled in his deep, clipped voice.

  “Ye are! Ye tried to kill my friend, Kaithria!” she cried out as she struggled in his arms and slapped at his chest.

  “Did I kill her?” he challenged her as he dodged her weakly flailing hands.

  “Nay,” she grumbled, as she stilled.

  “Did you try to kill me?”

  “Aye!” she said as she glared at him.

  “Then are you a murder?” he asked with an arched eyebrow as he looked down at her.

  “Of course not!”

  “Then how am I a murderer?”

  “You are a murderer, just as yer father murdered yer mother!” She breathed heavily. “Ye were going to kill yer sister.” She panted with the force of saying those words as she scowled.

  Cat watched as pain came over his face. She felt a stab of pain in her heart. She had hurt him.

  His jaw worked tensely as he stared down at her. “I did not kill Kaithria. I shall never harm her,” he said fervently. “Ever. She is my sister. I am glad that she is back in my life. I was a fool, believing the lies of my father.”

  Cat believed him. She knew this. She did not know why she tormented him. But the doubt, the irrational fear, ate at her. The vision of him trying to kill Kaithria was still fresh.

  “But ye are trying to drown me,” Cat said as the panic returned and swelled up into her voice.

  She watched as his eyes softened and roved over her face as gentle as a warm, spring breeze.

  “You saved my sister. I am trying,” he smiled slightly and arched his brow with chagrin, “to save you. You are hot with fever. You must be cooled down, Catriona.” He started to lower her into the water once again.

  “By holding me down under the water of the river? Nay!” she said as her voice raised with anxiety. She tensed and then began to struggle as she stared at the water fearfully.

  “Only briefly. It will cool your fever,” Caden said in a deep, husky voice. “Be still. I will not let go of you. I vow this.”

  “Take me out of the river,” she ordered as she flailed her hand in the water again, the other arm clinging tightly around his neck.

  “Nay,” he said simply.

  “Aye,” she said with a frown.

  “Are you cold?” he demanded.

  “Nay,” she said in confusion. “I am hot,” she answered pitifully.

  “Then you stay in the water until you're not burning up,” he insisted.

  He lowered her again carefully and gently. Watching her.

  Watching over her.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Some of the characters are real historical figures, but the others exist only in the imagination of the author. All events in this book are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.