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The Highlander's Bride(56)



“It can’t be that bad. Tell me.”

She snuggled against him, slipping into the crook of his arm. “Soldiers surrounded you, me, and Alexander.”

He didn’t like it already, but remained silent.

“There was no way out and you carried no sword. A man appeared wielding a large sword. He charged at you and Alexander. I jumped in front of you both and screamed for you to run as he ran me through with his sword. I watched you reach safety before I…”

Cullen felt a jolt to his heart and his gut. It took a moment for him to compose himself before he chanced speaking. Otherwise, he knew he’d use endless oaths to make her understand how that would never happen. He’d never let her give her life for him.

“That would never happen,” he said.

“How do you know?”

“I would never allow you to give your life for me,” he said bluntly.

“It was my choice.”

“It was a rash decision in a moment of panic,” he corrected.

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes rounded. “It was a decision made out of necessity. How else would you and your son have survived?”

“I would have found a way,” he assured her firmly.

“I couldn’t be sure of that,” she argued. “My first thought was for yours and Alexander’s safety.”

“And what of your own?”

“It was expendable.”

He pulled away from her, shaking his head. “It most certainly isn’t.”

“At the time I thought it was.”

“You were wrong,” he near shouted.

“My nightmare, my choice!”

“A foolish choice,” he said, shoving his face in hers.

“I save you and your son’s life and you tell me I’m foolish?”

“You will not give your life for me,” he ordered sharply.

“I will if I want to,” she said, her nose pressed to his.

“You will not. I will not allow it. I will keep you safe.”

“What if you can’t?” she asked softly, and pressed her cheek to his before kissing his lips gently.

Instantly, the memory of Alaina dying in his arms flashed in his mind and overpowered him with raging grief, leaving him momentarily speechless. He had to find his breath, his wits, and his courage to speak.

He squeezed her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I will. Never ever doubt that I will not keep you safe.”

“And what if I say the same to you?”

He released her chin and ran his hand down to caress her smooth neck. “Enough nonsense. You had a nightmare, no more. You have nothing to worry about. I will see to our safety. Trust me.”

“It isn’t you I don’t trust.” She shivered. “The man in my nightmare was pure evil, and I knew he would stop at nothing in his hunt for you.”

“It means nothing,” he said with a reassuring massage to her shoulder.

“What if Alaina’s father hunts you? It would be only a matter of time before he arrives at my home. Then what?”

She had a point, and one that had silently plagued him since they left the abbey. He was almost certain the Abbess would alert Alaina’s father of the babe’s miraculous resurrection and the subsequent details. It was only a matter of time, as Sara had said.

The earl would find them and he would want them dead.

“You and Alexander are not safe here for long,” she said. “I figure you have a month or two at the most, since it will take time for a letter from the Abbess to reach the earl and then he needs to discover our whereabouts, which won’t be too hard. Two months, and that’s taking a chance. We need our marriage to end fast.”

He squeezed her shoulder lightly. “Then let me make sure our vows are secure before I must leave you.”

Sadness rushed across her eyes, though she smiled. “For a man who first objected to our bargain, you are now quick to seal it.”

He took her lips in a hot, hungry kiss, savoring it before ending it all too soon. “That’s before I got to know you.”

She licked her sensually swollen lips, her narrow tongue driving him wild as it slowly circled her mouth. “And got to like kissing me.”

“I very much like kissing you,” he admitted, then stole a few more, ranging from hot and hungry to soft and slow.

“I like kissing you,” she admitted when he stopped.

He leaned in to steal another kiss. “Then let’s kiss some more.”

Sara wiggled out of his reach and away from him. “I’d like to reach my home before nightfall.”

“Last chance, Sara,” he warned, holding out his hand.

She stood then, and stared at him, and he knew she debated with herself. He remained with his hand stretched, inviting her to rejoin him on the blanket, and he watched as her face softened, her eyes lost their fight and her body its stiffness.