To Dream of a Highlander(19)

“And yer mother?”

“Aye, dead too.” Sickness had taken her several years after his father’s death. Yet another lass taken from him by some unseen enemy.

“As is mine.”

“I am sorry.”

“’Twas long ago too. But I do miss her,” Katelyn admitted and he felt her sigh against his back. “Ye have other brothers and sisters?”

“Nay, just Lorna. But she is enough for any brother to handle.” Her hand dropped and grazed the top of his thigh and he coughed. “And ye?”

“I had—have a twin sister,” she mumbled.

Interesting. He hadn’t heard mention of another sister. No wonder the lass was traumatised, having been torn apart from a close sibling. “A twin? Why were ye no’ with her?”

“I—we’re not close. She was likely with my father.”

“Well then, I am sure she is well.” He reached behind and squeezed her fingers, regretting it immediately when those soft tips settled in his palm.

Dìleas jerked on the reins as Katelyn shifted again and Finn muttered a soft oath. On such uneven ground, he risked the mount injuring herself.

“Is something amiss?” he asked more sharply than intended.

She yanked her fingers from his. “Nay,” she replied huskily.

He gripped the leather bridle and nudged the horse back on course. Dìleas could cope with much but Katelyn’s discomfort was putting her on edge. And him. He tried not to miss her delicate fingers in his hand.

Dìleas tensed beneath him. If only the lass would relax. “If ye are tired ye can rest against me.”

“I am no’ tired.”

He masked a snort. “And I suppose yer feet dinnae hurt either. Mayhap I should have ye walk the rest of the way,” he teased.

Silence reigned and Finn cursed inwardly. He’d hoped to draw her out of her unease, not create further tension. And his natural reaction was to jest. She softened as did the horse and he released the air from his lungs.

“I dinnae believe ye would make me,” she responded, a smile in her voice.

The sound warmed his heart. He longed to turn and see that smile. “I might be persuaded to.”

“After all the effort to bring me from Bute, you would discard me so easily?” A hand curled around his upper arm.

“Indeed. I might even put ye back on the boat and have ye row yerself back.”

She gasped. “And here I had ye marked as an honourable man.”

Honourable? Would she still think that if she knew of all the heated thoughts he kept having? He longed for—and dreaded—the moment fatigue would overcome her and those luscious breasts ended up pressed against his back.

He needed to create some distance. “Alas, I am naught but a humble warrior.”

“That I dinnae believe for a moment.”

“What? That I am no’ humble?”

She laughed. “Nay, that ye are naught but humble. But I would question that too, now you speak of it.”

“Ach, I dinnae know what I have done to be so harshly judged.” He grinned. Her laughter danced in his ears, a low and sensual sound. The kind of laugh a lover might hear if he skimmed his lips over her skin.

This time it was his nervous movements that had Dìleas tensing beneath him. He forced himself to relax.

He heard her yawn and his grin stretched. Stubborn lass. The wee woman was certainly made of strong stuff.

“Rest against me,” he commanded gently.

“Nay, I told ye, I am no’ tired.”

“Yer disconcerting Dìleas.”

“Oh.”

“I willnae bite.” Hard, he added silently, then mentally kicked himself.

“I know.” That smile flowed through her voice again.

First one hand, then the other curled tighter around him. He ground his teeth together. Then came her cheek as she leaned into him. Next her breasts. He lifted his gaze to the skies and prayed for restraint. Through his plaid and her gown, that rounded flesh scorched him.

Hell fire, he would need more than prayers and his sword arm to see him through this journey.

***

After a day’s riding, Catriona sank gratefully to the ground and stretched out her legs by the narrow stream that slipped between the rocks. She dipped her toes into the icy water, gasping when it bit into her skin. She sighed and listened to the soothing trickle as she got used to the temperature. It numbed the scratches and eased the aches. She tilted her head back and drew in a long breath.

“Drink, lass.”

She jolted when Finn appeared at her side and sat upright, guilty that he caught her in a vulnerable moment. She’d tried hard not to complain about their journey. Not only had these men risked their lives for her, but they’d risked their lives for the wrong woman.