To Tame a Highland Warrior by Karen Marie Moning Page A

twenty-two years old and she was scarcely sixteen. While she was certainly old enough to be wed—hell, many lasses were wed by thirteen—he could never offer her marriage. He had no home, no clan, and he was a dangerously unpredictable beast to boot. The facts were simple: No matter how much he might want Jillian St. Clair, he could never have her.
    At sixteen he’d lost his heart to the wee golden lass; at twenty-two he was beginning to lose his head over the woman. Grimm had concluded a month ago that he had to leave soon, before he did something stupid like kiss her, like find reasons to justify carrying her off and making her his woman. Jillian deserved the best: a worthy husband, a family of her own, and a place to belong. He could offer her none of that.
    Strapping his packs on the horse’s back, he sighed andshoved a hand through his hair. As he began leading his horse from the stable, Jillian burst through the doors.
    Her eyes darted warily between him and his horse, not missing a detail. “What are you doing, Grimm?”
    “What the hell does it look like I’m doing?” he snarled, beyond exasperated that he’d failed to escape without encountering her. How much temptation was he expected to resist?
    Tears misted her eyes, and he cursed himself. Jillian had seen so much horror today; he was the lowest of bastards to add to her pain. She’d sought him out in need of comfort, but unfortunately he was in no condition to console her. The aftereffects of Berserkergang left him unable to make clear choices and sensible decisions. Experience had taught him that he was more vulnerable after a Berserker rage; both his mind and body were more sensitive. He needed desperately to get away and find a safe, dark place to sleep for days. He had to force her to leave this instant, before he did something unforgivably stupid. “Go find your da, Jillian. Leave me alone.”
    “Why are you doing this? Why are you leaving, Grimm?” she asked plaintively.
    “Because I must. I never should have come here to begin with!”
    “That’s silly, Grimm,” she cried. “You fought gloriously today! Da locked me in my room, but I could still see what was going on! If you hadn’t been here, we wouldn’t have had a chance against the McKane—” Her voice broke, and he could see the horror of the bloody battle fresh in her eyes.
    And Christ, she’d just admitted that she’d watched him when he’d been berserk!
“If I hadn’t been here—” he beganbitterly, then caught himself on the verge of admitting
he
was the only reason the McKane had come at all.
    “If you hadn’t been here, what?” Her eyes were huge.
    “Nothing,” he muttered, staring at the floor.
    Jillian tried again. “I watched you from the win—”
    “And you should have been hiding, lass!” Grimm cut her off before she could prattle glowingly about his “bravery” in battle—bravery that sprang from the devil himself. “Have you no idea what you look like? Doona you know what the McKane would have done to you if they’d found you?” His voice cracked on the words. It had been fear of what the McKane might do to his beloved lass that had driven him even deeper into Berserkergang during battle, turning him into a ruthless killing animal.
    Jillian nervously tugged her lower lip between her teeth. The simple gesture shot a bolt of pure lust through him, and he despised himself for it. He was strung tighter than a compound bow; residual adrenaline from the battle still flooded his body. The heightened arousal attained in Berserkergang had the unfortunate effect of lingering, riding him like a demon, goading him to mate, to conquer. Grimm shook his head and turned his back on her. He couldn’t continue looking at her. He didn’t trust himself. “Get away from me. You doona know what you risk, being here with me.”
    Straw rustled against the hem of her gown as she moved. “I trust you completely, Grimm Roderick.”
    The sweet innocence in her young