Highlander the Dark Dragon (10 page)

Heather did not struggle against Rhys’ overpowering kiss nor did she respond. She was too busy trying to breathe. It did not help with how tightly he held her against him with one arm or how roughly his other hand gripped the back of her head, forcing her mouth to remain on his. If his intentions were to show what a beast he could be, he need not have bothered. His size and strength alone had done that. She was not foolish enough to think that she could ever defend herself against him and hoped she would never have to. But now?

He hoisted her up, not taking his mouth off hers and walked her to the door, planting her back against it and pressing his body tightly against hers. She felt him then. He was hard, thick, and large. And the image of what he possibly intended to do to her right here and now sent a ripple of fear through her.

When he rubbed himself hard against her, his tongue drove deeper into her mouth and he stole the last bit of breath she was fighting to keep. She shoved at his shoulders, trying at least to push him away enough for her to breathe, but she met solid muscle and could not budge it.

Her next action was instinctive. She challenged his tongue with her gentler one and stroked the side of his face with her hand as she did. He responded more quickly than she had expected and with his kiss easing she was able to slip her mouth off his, rest her brow to his, and take his face gently in her hands as she struggled to say, “You stole my breath.”

He stared at her and she was caught in the depths of his dark eyes. They seemed to always mesmerize her. There was something there, something about them...

“Be wary, wife, of the beast unleashed, for he cannot be harnessed or tamed,” he said as he lowered her so that her feet finally touched the floor.

She rested her hand on his arm and as her breathing calmed, she said, “I would never be so cruel as to try to harness or tame a beast that lives wild and free. But if he wished to befriend me, I would welcome his friendship wholeheartedly.”

“It would be foolish to befriend a wild beast.”

“Not as foolish as to think to tame one.”

“He could harm you.”

“Or not,” she said softly.

“Do not trust the beast,” Rhys warned.

“I will not—at least not until he trusts me.” She brushed a kiss across his cheek and with quick steps left the solar, the door closing behind her this time.

Rhys stared a few moments at the closed door, then went and poured himself a generous goblet of wine. He had meant to make her see the truth of who he was and to teach her a lesson. It had not gone as planned, but nothing seemed to be going as planned.

Heather was so much more than he had imagined she would be. While she wisely feared, she also wisely did not let fear stop her. She was more of a courageous woman than she knew, for she had quieted the Dragon with a tender touch.

She had infuriated him with her talk of love. A beast could not be loved nor could it give love. She needed to understand that and accept it.

He went and sat in the chair near the hearth, stretching his long legs out, the flames leaping back as if fearful of him. He had fought to keep control of himself when he had kissed her, but his need had suddenly raged out of control when he covered her mouth with a kiss that was anything but gentle. She needed to see the consequences of irritating the Dragon. She needed to know what she would suffer and yet...

He stood and poured himself more wine, though he had yet to finish what he had. He downed a mouthful and shook his head. He had been the one to suffer, the taste of her igniting a slumbering need, but it had been the remembrance of her gentle touch, the brush of her lips across his cheek, the mention of friendship that had left him, still now, hard and aching.

There had been no one to call friend until he met Pitt and that had taken time to evolve into friendship and now the brotherhood they shared. Pitt had trusted faster than he had, but then he had rescued him from a pit where he had been left to die a slow death. When Rhys had asked his name, he had said Pitt, claiming a new name, for the man the culprits had dumped in the pit had emerged a far different person, much like Rhys had.

Rhys was not who he once had been or ever would be again.

He could never let the beast inside him rest.
Never.
It was the beast—the Dragon—who rose up and did what was necessary and God help his wife when the Dragon truly touched her.

~~~

Heather slowed her steps as she approached the Great Hall. She wondered over her husband’s actions. Why had he tried to frighten her? Surely he realized that she did not know him well enough not to be afraid of him and certainly not well enough to believe she could trust him completely. He was still a stranger to her and that seemed odd to admit since after only two days with him she felt comfortable enough to accept his kisses and return them, something she had never expected. She had thought with time perhaps she would grow accustomed to intimacy with him, but to her great surprise she was not adverse to his kisses or his arm around her. How further intimacy would be she could not say, though recalling how hard and large he had felt against her was a bit of concern. The rough encounter had given her pause since before that she had enjoyed all encounters with him. But then he was a man of many mysteries of which needed solving.

“Nessa,” Heather shouted as she entered the Great Hall and the servant hurried over to her. Before Nessa could say anything to her, Heather spoke. “I need to speak with you.” She lowered her voice. “It is important.”

Nessa nodded. “Aye, my lady, this way.”

Heather followed the servant through the passageway to the kitchen, then straight through the kitchen and out a door. They wound their way past several cottages until Nessa stopped at a small, well-kept one, a lovely garden surrounding most of it.

“My home,” Nessa said and opened the door for Heather to enter.

It was one room, neat and well-kept, what little furniture there was fitting nicely into the small space. Nessa offered her the one chair in the room while she sat on a small bench.

“How can I help you, my lady?”

“I was wondering if you knew what happened to Glynnis?”

Nessa gasped. “All that is left of the McCombs wonder what happened to poor Glynnis. She was a pretty one with long dark hair and such lovely blue eyes. All the young men favored her but she had eyes for only one.” Nessa shook her head. “Sadly, he died. An accident, though many think otherwise.”

“Why?”

“The Dragon had summoned Glynnis often after his arrival and many believe he had taken a fancy to her and wanted her for himself. Some believe the Dragon holds her captive in the room on the upper floor, a slave to his wickedness.”

“I was up there. The room is bolted.”

Nessa’s eyes turned wide. “No one is allowed up there.” Her eyes grew even wider. “Good lord, he has locked her in, never to get out.”

“I do not believe that and I wish to prove it. Do you know of any other way into the room?”

Nessa turned silent for several minutes before saying, “I remember my mum telling me once that there was a secret way in and out of the keep from the upper floor. It was meant to help the laird’s family escape if necessary, but it was never used.” Nessa gasped. “That must be how he is able to get the women to the upper floor without anyone seeing them.”

“The Dragon would have to have learned of the secret entrance to be able to use it. Who else knows of it?”

Nessa chewed on her lower lip as she thought. She finally shook her head. “I cannot say, for my mum never said how she learned of it.”

“Then you cannot say for sure if a secret passage does exist.”

“No, though I do remember my mum tapping and pushing against walls in the rooms on the upper floor when we would see to cleaning the rooms there. She would look at me and tell me she was searching for secrets.”

“Then I will continue her search.”

Nessa jumped up. “Do you forget that the Dragon forbids anyone to go to the upper floor?”

Heather stood, smiling. “I have no intention of disobeying my husband.”

“Then wherever will you search?”

“Outside,” she said, “and I can count on you not to breathe a word of this?”

“You have no worry there, my lady, and I would be pleased to help you anyway I can.”

“I appreciate that, Nessa, but I will not see you suffer if caught helping me. I will do this on my own, for then I will be the only one answerable to the Dragon.”

“As you wish, my lady, but I am willing if you should need me.”

Nessa returned to her duties and Heather stood outside Nessa’s cottage, glancing up at the keep. It was a fair size, though seeing how the tower narrowed as it stretched to the upper floor made Heather realize how small the space actually was. The top portion was usually left as one large room and often used for storage of linens and such, but this top had been divided into three small sections when finished and she wondered why. Did it have something to do with the secret passage?

Heather slowly made her way around the bottom of the keep toward the side she was most interested in. She was glad the area was not in view of the entire village. It was more secluded with no one about, a perfect place to make an escape.

Her glance went to the ground instead of the keep itself. She walked over and squatted down, her hand going to an area of grass that appeared to have been trampled. Why would grass so close to the keep wall be trampled?

“What are you doing there?”

Heather fell back on her bottom startled by her husband’s stern voice.

His hands quickly slipped under her arms and he lifted her to her feet.

“I never hear you approach,” Heather said with a shake of her head.

“And you never will, so do not think to hide anything from me.”

“How did you learn to walk so that your footfalls were not heard?” she asked, taking his arm and leading him away from the keep and from her reason for being there.

“An exceptional warrior taught me the skill.” There were times her beauty caught him unaware and this was one of those times. Her blonde hair glistened in the sunlight and her cheeks were tinged soft pink, her lips a deeper rose. Had his harsh kiss still lingered there, staining her lips? Her green eyes sparkled with almost as much pleasantness as her smile.

“Will you teach me the skill?”

Rhys stopped. “If I did that, I would never hear you approach and already your steps are faint.” He bit his tongue for allowing the words to slip from his lips. He had allowed her beauty to distract him just as he had allowed her words of love to anger him. Too easily, she slipped past his defenses and that had to stop.

She laughed softly. “I believe my light steps were born out of necessity. I found myself treading lightly when my sisters were mere babes and I had put them to nap or bed and did not want to wake them as I left the room. As they got older, I kept my steps light so I could sneak up on them and catch them doing things they should not have been doing. Other times it was so I could sneak off by myself for a few moments of peace and quiet. Not that it lasted very long. Patience learned how to track young and was forever finding me. Do you have siblings?”

“No,” he answered and wanted to bite his tongue again. He did not want her knowing anything about him and here he was answering her. He grew more annoyed when he realized that he had gone in search of her to see that she was not upset over their recent encounter when truly it was because he favored her company. She was stirring things to life in him that he had thought long since dead.

“You do have cousins, your Uncle Ewan’s four sons.”

“I barely know them.”

“Then you have been gone from the area a long time. I suppose few would remember you.”

This time he wanted to rip his tongue from his mouth for letting her deduce something about him from his response. “You ask far too many questions and disobey far too often.”

She looked at him and soft laughter again preceded her words. “You are getting to know me well.”

He had to look away from her and suppress the smile that hurried to his mouth. He rarely, if ever, smiled and it shocked him that a smile had come so easily. Unlike others who trembled when he admonished them, she showed no fear, took no offense, and responded more often than not with a smile or gentle laughter that always managed to stir him in more ways than one.

“So I should expect more disobedience from you?”

“Not intentionally,” Heather said.

“Perhaps a fitting punishment for your disobedience so far would have you think twice before disobeying me again.”

“Perhaps a reprieve since I am doing my best to find my footing and adapt to an unexpected marriage and a new home.”

“You negotiate with me?”

“I have done so before.”

He remembered it well, for she had agreed to come to their bed willingly if he allowed her to tend Douglas instead of attending the burial of the two warriors. He had yet to take advantage of the bargain they had struck, not that he was not most eager to, but in a way he was also reluctant. She was so very innocent and kind, but would she be after he put his mark on her?

“I will see you wear, at supper tonight, the garment that waits for you in our bedchamber. Only then will I consider a reprieve.”

“Only consider, not grant me the reprieve?”

“You are lucky I even consider it.” Rhys turned his head just as Pitt came into view.

“Pardon, my lord, but possible wolf tracks have been spotted by one of our sentries,” Pitt said.

Rhys turned to Heather. “Our agreement has been struck. I will see you dressed appropriately tonight.” He reluctantly eased his arm away from her hand and walked over to Pitt, though called out as he did, “And you will also tell me what you found so interesting in the grass by the keep wall.”

Heather watched the two men walk away. Her husband was much too observant, but then so was she. There was something more to the wolf tracks that had been spotted and she wondered over it. She wished her husband trusted her enough to talk with her on all matters, though given time perhaps he would.