of restless energy. It took little to encourage him to head
off again, past the MacKay men, past the Bold. Down the hillside she galloped,
around a small copse of trees. To a valley below, where a stream cut through
the land.
And
privacy.
Maggie
reined in her ride and realized, for the very first time since she'd sat to sup
the night before, she was alone, out of sight of everyone.
She
slid from the horse’s back, dropped to her knees, huddled on the ground. All
her barbed emotions unraveled, the anger, the fury, the rigid fear. It was his
fault, his kiss of her hand that had disarmed her brittleness, bared raw pain. Sobs,
silent, for no sound was strong enough to carry the weight of them, rose from
the depths of her, poured out, wave upon wave. Her body stretched toward the
sky, a plea, to carry away the keen that came from the darkest corner of her soul.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Trained
warrior, a seasoned fighter who could act without thought, Talorc froze, unable
to move. His heart plummeted to the bowels of hell.
He’d
thought she was going to ride straight off the rise. He was certain of it, was
too far away to stop it. His men thought it a trick, did not interfere. They
had applauded and cheered. And then her mount rose on its haunches danced a
dance, made a show.
Had
she heard the thundering cries from her clansmen? Had she done it on purpose,
as his men thought? If she had, he’d kill her with his own bare hands, after
he’d clung to her.
She
was more than he could handle.
“You’ve
got yourself one hell of a lassie, boy!” Thomas shouted.
Talorc
was too shaken to respond. She’d already charged off madly beyond sight, east
when they were headed north. He was capable of no more than pointing toward the
proper route. His men followed with alacrity, he set off to find his mate.
She
hadn't gone far, straight down into the valley below, no further. The sight of
her, a crumpled heap upon the ground, racked with dry sobs, tore a brutal hole
in his anger. He dismounted, crossed to her and lifted her into his arms. She
fought him, fought to be free.
Ignoring
her meager blows, he sat upon a large boulder, Maggie cradled in his lap.
“Don’t
you dare think to comfort me.” She punched his chest. “This is your doing.” She
pounded him again. "What do you care that I have no one? What do you
care?”
With
a fell grip, he captured her hands, “I care.”
“Hah!”
She
strained against his hold, his handfasted, his partner, his helpmate. Did she
not feel the invisible bond wrapped around them?
“Look!”
He pressed their clasped hands against his chest, "You have me lass! You
have me, here, for you." Frustrated anger rode high in his blood.
"You?”
She shouted back, "I have you? What good is that? You who create changes
so drastic, my own clan don't know me anymore."
“You
are changed.”
“Never!”
“No?”
His smile mocked. “You don’t think so?” She stilled, guarded. So she should be.
He had waited a lifetime for this woman, hungered for her before he even knew
of her existence. Now that he had found her, his loins ached, urged for
release, anything, even the simple taste of her lips.
Ravenous,
he would wait no more, could not bear to. She was his, to love, honor and take.
Past time she knew of it.
“You,”
he stopped, to settle the race of blood that challenged his lungs. “You,” he
started again, “changed the moment we touched.”
He
tugged at her hair, pulled her head back, looked into her eyes. Wary, aye, for
she saw the truth in his words.
“From
the moment you landed in my hands, you knew, you sensed, you felt what you’ve
never had before.”
Unwittingly,
she licked her lips, whetting his desire. Still, he didn’t kiss her, though he imagined
doing so.
Not
just yet. She had relaxed. He would use that, eased his hold, lifted a finger
to trace her mouth, felt her soft huff of breath. Again, she moistened her
lips, only this time she found the tip
off again, past the MacKay men, past the Bold. Down the hillside she galloped,
around a small copse of trees. To a valley below, where a stream cut through
the land.
And
privacy.
Maggie
reined in her ride and realized, for the very first time since she'd sat to sup
the night before, she was alone, out of sight of everyone.
She
slid from the horse’s back, dropped to her knees, huddled on the ground. All
her barbed emotions unraveled, the anger, the fury, the rigid fear. It was his
fault, his kiss of her hand that had disarmed her brittleness, bared raw pain. Sobs,
silent, for no sound was strong enough to carry the weight of them, rose from
the depths of her, poured out, wave upon wave. Her body stretched toward the
sky, a plea, to carry away the keen that came from the darkest corner of her soul.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Trained
warrior, a seasoned fighter who could act without thought, Talorc froze, unable
to move. His heart plummeted to the bowels of hell.
He’d
thought she was going to ride straight off the rise. He was certain of it, was
too far away to stop it. His men thought it a trick, did not interfere. They
had applauded and cheered. And then her mount rose on its haunches danced a
dance, made a show.
Had
she heard the thundering cries from her clansmen? Had she done it on purpose,
as his men thought? If she had, he’d kill her with his own bare hands, after
he’d clung to her.
She
was more than he could handle.
“You’ve
got yourself one hell of a lassie, boy!” Thomas shouted.
Talorc
was too shaken to respond. She’d already charged off madly beyond sight, east
when they were headed north. He was capable of no more than pointing toward the
proper route. His men followed with alacrity, he set off to find his mate.
She
hadn't gone far, straight down into the valley below, no further. The sight of
her, a crumpled heap upon the ground, racked with dry sobs, tore a brutal hole
in his anger. He dismounted, crossed to her and lifted her into his arms. She
fought him, fought to be free.
Ignoring
her meager blows, he sat upon a large boulder, Maggie cradled in his lap.
“Don’t
you dare think to comfort me.” She punched his chest. “This is your doing.” She
pounded him again. "What do you care that I have no one? What do you
care?”
With
a fell grip, he captured her hands, “I care.”
“Hah!”
She
strained against his hold, his handfasted, his partner, his helpmate. Did she
not feel the invisible bond wrapped around them?
“Look!”
He pressed their clasped hands against his chest, "You have me lass! You
have me, here, for you." Frustrated anger rode high in his blood.
"You?”
She shouted back, "I have you? What good is that? You who create changes
so drastic, my own clan don't know me anymore."
“You
are changed.”
“Never!”
“No?”
His smile mocked. “You don’t think so?” She stilled, guarded. So she should be.
He had waited a lifetime for this woman, hungered for her before he even knew
of her existence. Now that he had found her, his loins ached, urged for
release, anything, even the simple taste of her lips.
Ravenous,
he would wait no more, could not bear to. She was his, to love, honor and take.
Past time she knew of it.
“You,”
he stopped, to settle the race of blood that challenged his lungs. “You,” he
started again, “changed the moment we touched.”
He
tugged at her hair, pulled her head back, looked into her eyes. Wary, aye, for
she saw the truth in his words.
“From
the moment you landed in my hands, you knew, you sensed, you felt what you’ve
never had before.”
Unwittingly,
she licked her lips, whetting his desire. Still, he didn’t kiss her, though he imagined
doing so.
Not
just yet. She had relaxed. He would use that, eased his hold, lifted a finger
to trace her mouth, felt her soft huff of breath. Again, she moistened her
lips, only this time she found the tip
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