The Witch and The Warrior (7 page)

“Are you ill?” MacDunn asked, racing toward her. He dropped to one knee and laid his rough hand upon her brow. “Do you feel feverish?”

“I am fine, MacDunn. My legs are stiff from being on that horse too long, that is all. I am not accustomed to riding such a long distance.”

His hand moved from her forehead to each cheek, as if he did not quite believe her. When he finally decided that her temperature was acceptable, he regarded her sternly. “You should have said something if you were finding the ride too difficult.”

She did not know what to make of that. After all, she was his prisoner, and had assumed her comfort was irrelevant. “You are obviously in a great hurry and—”

“Your well-being is of paramount importance to me,” MacDunn interrupted. “In the future, you will tell me when you are feeling ill or overly tired. Is that clear?”

She reminded herself that his anxiety sprang from greed rather than a genuine interest in her health. He had told her she was useless to him if she fell ill. Nevertheless, his touch was infinitely gentle as he wrapped his arms around her and helped her to her feet.

“You must walk a little, to get the blood moving in your legs,” he instructed, leading her across the grass. “Better?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered, unsettled by the feel of his hard body supporting her. “I'm fine now, MacDunn.” She broke free from him to walk on her own.

He watched her a moment, as if to be sure. Then he turned and led his horse to the stream. Cameron and Ned followed with the other horses.

“Has he always been this preoccupied with illness?” Gwendolyn asked, moving to where Brodick was laying out some food.

“No,” he admitted. “But that was before he learned how formidable an enemy illness can be.”

“Was he sick?” Gwendolyn was unable to imagine MacDunn weak from disease.

Brodick shook his head. “MacDunn has always enjoyed excellent health.”

“Then who was sick?”

“It is not my place to tell you about MacDunn, Gwendolyn. Whatever he wants you to know, he will tell you.”

She didn't care, she reminded herself. MacDunn's problems were of no interest to her. Her only concern was escaping. And with MacDunn, Cameron, and Ned down by the stream, this was probably her best opportunity. They had stopped at the edge of a thick forest. If she could lose herself in there, she would be able to find someplace to hide. She raised her arms in a casual stretch, sighed, then began to wander nonchalantly toward the woods.

“Where are you going?” Brodick demanded.

“I require a few minutes of privacy,” Gwendolyn called over her shoulder.

“You must wait until MacDunn returns. He would not want you going off on your own.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot wait,” replied Gwendolyn, still walking. “Don't worry, Brodick, I won't go far.” With that she slipped into the woods and quickly disappeared behind a tree.

She glanced back to see if Brodick would follow her. He stared in her direction a moment, as if debating whether or not to go after her. Then he lowered his head and continued to unpack food from his saddlebag.

Every second was precious. Gwendolyn gathered her skirts in her hands and began to swiftly thread her way deep into the woods. She tried to step lightly over the carpet of pine needles and twigs, conscious of each snap and rustle as she raced from her captors. It would be only moments before Brodick decided she had been gone too long. She needed to cover as much distance as possible before the warriors came after her. Her heart pounded and her breath was reduced to shallow, desperate gasps. Still she ran, heedless of the branches clawing at her face, farther and farther into the quiet green sanctuary of the woods. She was well ahead of them now. The forest was so dense and dark, surely they would not be able to find her here.

“Gwendolyn! Where are you?” Brodick called, not sounding nearly as far away as she would have liked.

She did not pause, though her chest felt as if it were being squeezed of air.

“Gwendolyn!” called MacDunn, his voice harsh, “come out here at once!”

Exhaustion forced her to pause a moment and lean against a tree, greedily gasping for breath. They would never find her now, for the woods were far too large, and they could not possibly know which direction she had taken. Still, there were four of them, which meant they could cover virtually every direction. The sound of branches breaking and twigs snapping told her they had begun their search. She glanced around wildly, looking for a place to hide. There was nothing but the endless, narrow columns of trees. She debated trying to climb one of them, but feared she lacked the strength and agility to get sufficiently high, and might only reveal her whereabouts in the process.

“Come, now, m'lady,” called Cameron, affecting a reasonable tone. “You cannot be thinking of spending the night alone in these woods.”

She picked up her skirts and began to run again, encouraged by the fact that his voice was muffled. Obviously they were going in the wrong direction. Her breathing grew labored once more, and her heart began to pound against her chest. Still she ran, focusing on her need to escape, to free herself from MacDunn and his selfish desires, and to find Robert and bury a dirk deep into his heart.

The ground began to rumble beneath her. She ran even faster, but now she could hear branches cracking, heralding the advance of a rider. Despair overwhelmed her. Realizing she had been caught, she stopped and turned.

MacDunn was thundering toward her, an arrow taut against the string of his bow. Rage had hardened his features into a terrible mask. Gwendolyn stared at him in horror, her heart frozen. Instead of lowering his weapon as he drew close, he aimed it straight at her.

In that moment, she realized he was truly mad.

She opened her mouth to scream as he released his arrow, but all that came out was a strangled whimper. A hideous shriek of pain shattered the air.

Confused, Gwendolyn looked behind her.

An enormous wild boar lay upon the ground with an arrow protruding from its side. Blood poured from its wound as the heavy creature struggled to get up. Another arrow sliced the air beside her and plunged cleanly into the poor beast, killing it. Gwendolyn stared at it in shock. The animal would have killed her, she realized numbly.

Slowly, she turned to face MacDunn.

He swung down from his horse and stalked toward her.

“Do you have any idea how close you just came to death?” he demanded softly.

“MacDunn, I—”

He grabbed her by her slim, bare shoulders, needing to touch her, to be sure she was still whole and well.

“You would have been killed,” he bit out harshly. “That boar would have knocked you to the ground and trampled you until every bone in your body was crushed.”

His grip was punishing, but she dared not complain. She did not want to provoke his rage even more than she already had.

“And I would have been powerless to save you, Gwendolyn,” he continued fiercely. “Had I arrived but a moment later, there would have been nothing I could do.”

This, perhaps, was what alarmed Alex the most. He had vowed to protect her, yet her own folly had placed her directly in death's path. And now she stood, trembling yet defiant. He wanted to shake her, he wanted to frighten her, he wanted to make her understand that she could not trifle with her life in this way.

And so he lowered his head and captured her lips in his.

Gwendolyn stood paralyzed as MacDunn's mouth slanted over hers. She had never been kissed before, for no one in her clan would have dared dally with the girl marked from childhood as a witch. But even in her innocence she could feel the unleashed fury in the way his lips ground against hers. A flame burst to life in the pit of her stomach, and her blood quickened, making her feel flushed and strange. MacDunn's tongue swept demandingly along the soft crease of her lips, and the sensation was so exquisite Gwendolyn opened her mouth slightly. He instantly plunged inside, hungrily exploring. Gwendolyn leaned into his muscular frame and locked her arms around his neck, clinging to him as she urgently returned his kiss. He growled and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her even closer, kissing her even harder, until there was nothing but the solid wall of MacDunn wrapped around her and the incredible fire that raged between them. Power seemed to emanate from him as his hands roamed down her back, cupping her hips and pulling her firmly into the hardness of his arousal. Pleasure washed through her as she pressed against him, and a soft little cry escaped her throat.

Alex continued to taste Gwendolyn as his hands began to explore the narrow path of her back, the satin skin of her shoulders, the delicate cage of her ribs. And then he laid his palm against the lush swell of her breast and groaned, for he could not remember ever touching anything so soft. It had been four years since he had felt the least flicker of desire, and the lust surging through him in that moment was beyond measure. He wanted to take this witch now, here in the forest, to lay her down on a bed of fragrant pine and bury himself deep inside her, to lose himself to her softness and heat, without even taking the time to remove her gown. His desire was staggering, it stripped him of his ability to think, until he was aware of nothing but the blaze devouring him, and the certainty that only this mysterious smoke- and heather-scented woman could slake his need. He could not remember a moment in which he had been so overwhelmingly possessed, not even with Flora, though there had been many a time when he had spread his plaid over a mattress of ferns and pleasured her in the golden warmth of sunlight. But that was a lifetime ago, when she had been fit and glowing with laughter and love, and he had laid his face against the creamy softness of her breasts and vowed with all his heart and soul that he would never love another.

Shame sliced through him, dousing his ardor. He released his hold on Gwendolyn and stepped back, appalled by his behavior.

“Forgive me,” he murmured roughly, not certain whether he was asking for her forgiveness or Flora's.

Gwendolyn regarded him blankly, bewildered by his abrupt change in manner. A moment ago he had been powerful, aroused, a great laird who was thoroughly in control and who was using that control to spin the same veil of desire over her. Yet now he seemed distant, almost sad. The grim set of his mouth told her he was still angry. But she sensed his fury was no longer directed at her.

“MacDunn!” called Brodick from the distance. “Did you find her?”

“Aye.” Alex didn't take his eyes off Gwendolyn. “We're over here. Tell Ned to come and fetch her.”

Gwendolyn was staring at him in confusion. Ripples of sunlight and shadow were playing over her, glossing the tangled mass of her black hair. Her gray eyes were wide and pensive, her cheeks and lips flushed from the heat of his kiss. In that moment, standing amid the green and gold light of the forest, she seemed more mythical creature than flesh-and-blood woman.

“You will abandon this absurd notion of escape,” he commanded tautly, resisting the impulse to lay his hand against her cheek and feel its softness. He turned and moved toward his horse, anxious to have distance between them. “Next time,” he continued, hoisting himself into his saddle, “I may just leave you for either Robert or the wild boars to find.”

With that he galloped away, leaving Gwendolyn alone with the slain boar.

I'm sorry.

He lay back and contemplated the sparkling cape of night, only vaguely aware that the ground was damp and the air unseasonably cold. The physical discomforts of the body had never bothered him much, and tonight he was far too preoccupied to give them any notice whatsoever. Flora's star was smaller this evening, and the light it cast was sad and flat. At first Alex had had trouble finding it amid all the others. He had wondered if she was so injured by his betrayal that she would not show herself to him at all. If so, he could not blame her. But long after the camp rumbled with the sounds of sleep, he finally found a pale glimmer in a distant corner of the sky. Of course he knew Flora's spirit did not actually dwell within that shimmering silver orb.