The Highlander's Forbidden Bride(13)

“I will have an answer from you even if it is before you take your last breath.”

“How did you find me?” she asked, knowing her best defense was to ignore his threats though privately take them seriously.

He walked over to the hearth and grabbed his leggings. She thought he would get dressed, but he simply ran his hands over them and returned them to the back of the rocking chair, where his other garments were obviously set to dry.

“Let’s say you led me on quite a chase,” he said.

“Not a long enough one,” she said, wishing she could reach out and pull the blanket across her, but that would indicate vulnerability, and she would dare not let him see that.

She stood and hastily braided her hair as she walked across the room.

He quickly blocked her path, his shadow looming large over her petite size.

It was hard for her not to admire the warrior he was; forged and branded in battle, he had earned it all, and that she had to respect. Though it went deeper than that, so much deeper.

She called on the cold nature she’d developed to serve her as it always had and had earned her the reputation of being heartless.

She tossed her chin up and slammed her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you’re foolish enough to believe that I would make an escape in my nightshift in the dead of night, and in the snow?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past you.”

“I’m not stupid, I’m parched.” She stepped around him and emptied part of the water bucket she had filled earlier from the rain barrel outside into a small cauldron and set it to bubble in the hearth.

She was glad for the distraction, glad for a moment to gather her thoughts and assess her situation. And it was a difficult one. Ronan Sinclare had her in his clutches, and he would do whatever was necessary to see that she remained his captive.

As she prepared the leaves, she asked without thinking, “Would you like some?” As soon as her uncharacteristically thoughtful offer had spilled from her lips, she wished she could retract it. But his caustic response set her at ease.

“It could be poison.”

“No poison, just a gentle brew.” She filled a tankard and steeped the leaves, and when it was ready, she blew softly to chase the rising steam from the top and carefully sipped the hot drink.

He walked over to her and snatched the tankard from her grasp. Some of the hot liquid sloshed over the side onto his hand, but he didn’t even flinch. He took the tankard and walked over to sit in the rocking chair.

She fixed herself another, then took a chair from the table and placed it near the hearth, though not near him. She sat and enjoyed the pleasant taste, realizing that the drink was stilling her inner shivers.

He turned his head and stared at her for several moments, the firelight making his green eyes glow like fiery emeralds.

“You don’t fear me, do you?” he asked.

“Not the least.”

“You should.”

She almost shuddered with fear, his voice was so calm and empty. She couldn’t help but recall how kindly he had spoken to the slave. She had never had a man speak kindly to her, and it had been at those moments that she had envied the slave he had grown to love.

She gathered her courage, and said, “Fear is a foe I conquered many years ago.”

“I am a foe you will never conquer.”

“Is that a challenge, Ronan?”

“It’s a promise,” he said.

“Then I needn’t worry, for you aren’t good at keeping promises.”

She knew her words would pierce his heart like a dagger dug deep, for he knew full well the promise she referred to, and the consequences the slave suffered because he had failed to keep it. Surprisingly, his only reaction was the clenching of his jaw…until he stood and walked over to her.

He leaned down, his face a hairbreadth away from hers. “Then I give you my word. You, Carissa, daughter of Mordrac the Barbarian, will die by my hand.”

Carissa purposely grew a wickedly cruel smile as she brought her lips closer to his. “You, Ronan of the clan Sinclare, will never have that pleasure.”

He took a step away and commanded sternly. “Go to bed.”

She had no problem obeying his order. It would put some distance between them, and though she doubted that she would sleep, she would have time to determine how she would escape him.

She didn’t count on him following her, and she worried that his intention was to join her in bed. Wanting to keep control of the situation, she made a quick decision and swerved around so suddenly that he had to grab hold of her to prevent them both from tumbling down on the bed together.

With the situation to her advantage, she smiled, and said, “Your body looks fit for pleasure, so why not come to bed with me?”