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The Highlander's Bride(37)

By:Donna Fletcher


Her anxious moan caught his attention and he turned on his side. She scrunched her face as if in pain and her sorrowful whimpers attested to her suffering. Did nightmarish memories haunt her? Or did dreams of the future cause her unrest?

A heart-wrenching cry had him up and over to her in no time. He stretched out beside her, his arm going around her and easing her back against him.

“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re all right. I’m here. You’re safe.”

She pressed her fisted hands against her chest. “Nothing will stop me. I promise. I prom…”

Her words faded, along with her dream apparently, and she settled comfortably in his arms, a fitful sigh escaping now and again. She felt good wrapped snugly against him and it felt good for her to be there. He liked being wrapped around her, the feel of her springy red curls tickling his face.

He had looked forward to sharing intimate moments like this with Alaina. They’d merely had stolen moments, each one all too brief. He had dreamed of so much more, but his dreams were replaced with nightmares after her death.

In the first few weeks following Alaina’s passing he had rarely slept. He didn’t want to close his eyes for fear of reliving her death or to have dreams in which he held her in his arms.

He tightened his hold around Sara, drawing her as close to him as he could. He had hated waking from the dreams where he felt Alaina so alive, so real in his arms, only to open his eyes and find himself alone, with her gone forever.

He couldn’t replace Alaina; he didn’t want to, would never want to, but couldn’t help relishing the feel of Sara in his arms, knowing they could sleep side by side, wrapped around each other all through the night, to wake together in the morning.

He might not love Sara, or she him, but at least they weren’t alone. She helped fill a void, an emptiness inside him that was tearing him to pieces, and for a while he wanted to savor having a woman in his arms, a good woman at that.

And what of Sara?

Hadn’t she wanted to experience intimacy with her husband while sealing their vows and guarding her future?

He squeezed his eyes tight. The simple bargain they struck had suddenly become complicated. He shook his head. He couldn’t allow that to happen. His first and foremost thought, action, and deed had to be his son. Nothing else could stand in his way.

He breathed deep and caught a whiff of pine, not a heavy scent, but a light, barely discernible one, and yet appealing. He wiggled his nose to dislodge the red, pine-scented curl that tormented his nostrils. It remained stubborn, refusing to budge.

He finally had no choice but to swat at it with his fingers, but that only managed to release two other curls joining the stubborn one. He grabbed hold of all three and stilled, rubbing the strands between his fingers. They were silky soft, and he rubbed them against his cheek, then over his lips while drinking deep of their intoxicating scent.

“Damn, damn, damn,” he whispered, and buried his face in her hair.

He got lost in the scent of her, and claimed by intoxication, fell sound asleep.

“No! No!”

Cullen was jolted awake by Sara struggling in his arms. She was dreaming again, and he sought to soothe her.

“Shhh, be still, it’s all right.”

She didn’t listen or didn’t hear, and struggled harder.

He had to stop her thrashing or one of them would get hurt, and so threw his leg over her legs and, with a firm arm around her, held her tight, all the while trying to reassure her.

Her eyes sprung open and she glared at him until recognition finally struck and her fear gradually subsided.

“A bad dream?” he asked after giving her time to calm.

She confirmed with a nod and a relieved sigh.

“They’ve haunted you since you’ve fallen asleep.”

“They plague me now and again.”

“Want to talk about them?’ he asked.

“No, I want to forget them.”

Cullen wasn’t surprised when she turned in his arms and cuddled against him. She buried her face in the crook of his neck while grabbing handfuls of his shirt and pressing tightly clenched fists against his chest.

He rested his cheek atop her head. “You’re safe.”

He couldn’t make out her muffled reply, but the way her body grew taut in his arms, he sensed that she didn’t agree.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, wanting to ease her fears, whatever they were. He had woken too many times from nightmares wishing he wasn’t alone, aching for a pair of comforting arms. At least, he thought, he could give that comfort to her.





Cullen woke with the break of dawn, that first light easing away the darkness and promising a new day, a new start. And it was certainly that, for he woke with Sara’s head rested on his shoulder, her arm snug around his waist and her ankle crossing his.