My Brave Highlander (13 page)

When he turned with her, she giggled. The playful sound wound through his body in a heated swirl of excitement. She slid her arms 'round his neck and held on tightly while he carried her back to the bed. One of her soft breasts, with its hard nipple, rubbed against his chest, only the thin fabric between them. She snuggled her face against his neck, her warm breath teasing his skin.

Arousal surged through him, but when she kissed his throat, he thought he might go up in flames.
Saints
! He wanted to do the same to her, trail kisses down her throat, untie her smock and… He shook his head, trying to clear it.

Standing by the bed, he remained still, though his instincts raged at him to crush her sweet body beneath his on the mattress.

He drew in a deep breath, fighting to calm his desires.

"Are you awake?" he whispered.

She hummed a sleepy sound and placed another wee kiss against his neck. Restraining a moan, he glanced down at her. In the dimness, he couldn't see if her eyes were open or closed. But she smelled heavenly, like lavender and woman.

Just put her in the bed and leave her be!

He lowered her to the mattress but she did not relinquish her hold on his neck. He knew he should simply remove her slender arms, but he couldn't seem to make himself do it. Her breath tickled his face. Her mouth, no less than an inch or two from his, tempted him, made him crave just one taste.

Surrendering to the enticement, he brushed his lips over hers… silky-smooth warmth. She released a soft moan and pressed her lips more firmly to his. It was a chaste kiss, but the raging need storming his body urged him to make it carnal, compelled him to part her lips and slide his tongue between.

Nay. She's asleep.

Lifting his head, he dragged her arms from around his neck and covered her with the blankets. She protested with a petulant moan.

Damn, she seemed near as needy as he was. But was her need for him, or would any man do?

It didn't matter.

"Go to sleep," he said in a low but firm tone, even though she already was.

She turned over and her breathing deepened.

Saints!
That was one time he wished she'd done the opposite of what he said. The sensual feel of her lips was now burned onto his.

Nay
. He couldn't have her. He couldn't kiss her. She belonged to another man.

She didn't move and seemed fully asleep now.

He barred the door again and placed a heavy chair before it to hopefully prevent her from walking outside and freezing her arse off while he slept. At least, she'd wake him up if she slid the chair away from the door.

But, given his state of heightened arousal, he was likely to get no more sleep this night. Determined to try, he lay down on the bedroll. He couldn't forget how perfect she'd felt in his arms. His instincts had kicked in and it was almost as if he'd captured a lass for his very own. How he wanted to carry her off to a private chamber and show her what her kisses did to him.

But since she was asleep, she likely wouldn't even remember the incident.

***

Dirk saddled his horse the next morn outside Lewis MacLeod's byre while George saddled Rebbie's horse nearby. Weak sunlight crept over the mountains.

"And how did everything go last night?" Rebbie asked with a cheerful smile. "You look like you got little sleep."

"Very well." Dirk knew what Rebbie was digging for, but Dirk would reveal naught to him about the sensual torture he'd endured.

"Very,
very
well?" Rebbie asked in a suggestive tone.

Dirk glared at his friend. "Naught happened, if that's what you're wondering." Naught of importance anyway. Certainly nothing she would remember. But the way she'd kissed his neck, and the brush of her lips against his would haunt him. "She slept in the bed and I slept on my bedroll before the hearth."

Rebbie chuckled. "As I expected. You're the prince of courtesy and honor when it comes to her."

"When have I not been courteous and honorable with any lady?"

"I can think of one time in recent months." Rebbie grinned wickedly. "Surely you remember Lady Neilina."

"Must you bring her up? I was helping Lachlan. He had an unethical number of conniving females chasing after him. Aside from that, I'm a man like any other. I'm sure you would've volunteered for the role with Neilina if you were taller and had light hair."

Rebbie frowned. "Can I help it I'm not a giant?"

Dirk snorted. Although Rebbie was about six feet in height, he was still slightly shorter than Dirk or Lachlan. 'Twas one of the few things Dirk had found to tease him about. Generally, he was impervious.

"I see what you're doing," Rebbie said. "Trying to change the subject."

Dirk shrugged, hoping Rebbie would get bored. "There's naught to talk about."

"Did she knee you in the groin this time?"

"Nay, thank the saints. But she told me she walks in her sleep. That's why she fell on me the other morn."

"I see." Rebbie scratched the dark stubble on his chin. "Hmm… I'm sure you were wishing she'd accidentally sleep-walk to your bedroll and crawl in."

"Well, that didn't happen, so you can stop speculating."

"A pity. That could've made a cold winter's night far hotter."

Dirk shook his head. "Your mind never leaves the gutter, does it?"

"Rarely. I'm simply enjoying watching you get all tangled up over a woman for the first time."

"I'm not tangled up over a woman," Dirk growled.

"'Twas bound to happen sooner or later."

The door behind them opened and Isobel and her maid emerged, carrying their meager belongings.

"Shh," Dirk hissed at Rebbie.

"Good morrow, my lady," Rebbie called and gave one of his dramatic bows.

"Good morrow," she said in a more restrained tone and curtseyed.

She looked far more refreshed this morn than he felt, that was a certainty. She'd slept the whole night, even with her wanderings about the room, while he'd only slept naps here and there amid steamy erotic dreams.

Her cheeks glowed bright pink in the crisp, cold air. And her dark gaze upon him near took his breath away. He gave a brief bow.

She smiled and curtseyed in return, then hastened after her maid toward the main cottage.

"Did you see that?" Rebbie whispered aside. "She blushed as soon as she glanced at you."

"Rebbie, I'm warning you…" Dirk grumbled in a low tone.

Rebbie laughed and slapped his shoulder.

"'Tis time to break our fast," Lewis MacLeod called from the main cottage.

"We must eat quickly and be on our way," Dirk said. "It already grows late. We must reach Durness before dark, else there'll be nowhere to spend the night."

***

Behind Dirk, riding pillion on his horse, Isobel shivered against him. He wished he could make her warmer, but she was already wrapped in every blanket and extra plaid he possessed. Thank the saints it was no longer snowing, and the sun peeped through the clouds from time to time. But the never-ending wind blew harder.

At least his larger body blocked most of the north wind from her. Occasionally, it stung his face and penetrated his multiple layers of clothing. Still, he wasn't chilled. In fact, she made him feel overheated most of the time. He truly needed to share some body heat with her. But that was not a good idea.

He turned his head. "Are you cold, m'lady?"

"Not overmuch." Her teeth chattered, proclaiming her words a lie. He admired her for not complaining. She was a strong lass.

"Put your arms beneath my plaid and cloak. 'Tis warmer closer to my body."

Damnation, he shouldn't have said that. Thinking about her closer to his body made his heart rate speed up, but when she dug beneath his wool mantle and his plaid, and touched his waist through his doublet, his whole body came to life. But he had to keep her warm.

He'd grown up here and he well knew how cold MacKay Country was in autumn and winter. His body would tolerate chill more easily than hers.

She slid her uninjured hand around his side and rested it lightly on his upper abdomen. He helped place her injured hand, careful of her splinted finger, at his waist, then covered her hands with one of his. "Och. Your hands are like ice."

"'Tis true. The cold wind blows so hard here."

"Not much longer and we'll reach Durness." He tapped his heels against the horse's sides, increasing their pace along the trail that cut between the moor and the rock carved hills. A herd of furry black Highland cattle stood watching in the snowy field. Smoke trailed from a distant crofter's hut.

The press of Isobel's fingers against his stomach affected him more than he would've liked, sending arousal burning through him. He yearned to hold her in his arms, warm her and protect her. Damnation if he wasn't daft.

Wondering about the others in their party, he stopped, turned the horse slightly and glanced back at Rebbie. Further back, Isobel's maid rode pillion behind George.

Rebbie waved him onward.

Dirk headed the horse forward again and continued. Each step along the narrow trail that wound around lochs and between bare stone mountains was like a step back in time. Little had changed here in twelve years.

Yells erupted in the distance behind them. Isobel's maid screamed.

"Oh heavens," Isobel said.

"What the devil?" Dirk turned the horse about to glance back again. Rebbie and the two servants had dropped further behind. And now a man stood before them, a pistol in his hand. He yelled out an order.

Who was he and where had he come from? Wearing a mask and cowl over his head, he appeared to be a lone highwayman.

Could that be McMurdo? Dirk had forgotten about the bastard.

Dirk dismounted. "Move forward into the saddle and stay down," he told Isobel, handing her the reins. "He has a pistol. If he comes toward you, ride north as fast as you can. My uncle's cottage will be the first one you come to. The big one."

"I'll go too, and help Beitris." She moved as if to dismount.

"Nay," he ordered. "You'll stay right here."

"I have a dagger." She pulled the shiny weapon from the pouch suspended from her belt.

"Put that away afore you cut yourself," Dirk growled. "Keep her safe, Tulloch," he said to his horse.

Tulloch nickered and stamped his giant hoof.

"Have a care," Isobel said.

Dirk drew his sword and raced back a couple hundred feet to the others, his boots slipping over the ice and snow. He didn't realize they'd moved so far ahead of Rebbie and the servants.

His horse dancing about, Rebbie kicked out with one booted foot, knocking the gun from the outlaw's hand. The bastard then scrambled on the ground for it.

While Rebbie dismounted, Dirk rushed in upon them.

Rebbie and the outlaw rolled on the ground, tussling for the weapon. Dirk grabbed the man's brown cloak, secured at his throat, and yanked him away from his friend, who had the pistol in hand. The outlaw made choking sounds and clawed at the mantle's clasp. Once it was unhooked, he freed himself from the garment and fled toward a grove of bushes, his long gray hair flying out behind him. Before he reached cover, he made as if to circle around toward Isobel and Tulloch.

"Halt!" Dirk demanded, launching into motion and sprinting toward Isobel. Bastard! Dirk would choke him if he ever got his hands on him.

A gunshot exploded behind him. Dirk glanced back to see Rebbie with his pistol raised, still aimed at the outlaw, and a fog of black smoke being carried away by the wind. The masked man didn't go down. Instead, he changed course and bolted for the bushes again.

"Bastard!" Dirk yelled, finally reaching Isobel.

Tulloch snorted and pawed the ground.

The last time he'd seen Donald McMurdo, he'd had dark hair, but that had been many years ago. That had to be him. If the women hadn't been in their party now, he'd hunt the knave down and toss him in Dunnakeil's dungeon.

"What the devil?" Rebbie grumbled, coming up behind them and brushing the snow and debris from his clothing. "A highwayman? Out here, in the most remote country I've ever seen?"

"Aye. They're everywhere. 'Twas likely McMurdo. Back when I was a lad, my father and his men tried to capture McMurdo but he was as elusive as a ghost. Not only is he a thief, but also a murderer. Hard to believe he's still alive after all this time."

George led the other horse forward and Beitris, still quite pale, was perched upon it.

Rebbie surveyed the outlaw's pistol in his hand. "If this wasn't such a piece of rubbish, I could've shot him in the arse with his own gun."

Dirk snorted. "Let's make haste afore he returns."

"I hope he does," Rebbie called out, making sure anyone hiding in the bushes could hear him. "I'll give him something—a lead ball betwixt his teeth."

Observing Isobel, Dirk noted her dark eyes were wide as she scanned the edge of the copse of bushes. "Are you well?" he asked.