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The Highlander's Forbidden Bride(24)

By:Donna Fletcher


With him, she allowed her true nature to surface without fear. As he had mentioned, no pretense, he knew her and loved her for who she truly was.

The problem was that she had played her part well, so very well that no one would believe she was anyone other than Carissa.

Certainly, Ronan would never believe that the kindhearted slave he loved was actually the coldhearted Carissa.

If she could have cried at that moment, she would have, but no tears came. What was done was done, and she couldn’t undo it. Even though she wanted with all her heart to shake him awake and tell him she was Hope, the woman he loved.

She almost laughed aloud. How foolish it sounded to her own ears. He would think her desperate or crazy, but never would he believe her. In saving him, she had lost him, and it broke her heart.

How was she ever going to get through this sequestered time with him? The more she heard of his love for Hope, the more her heart ached. And the more she slept beside him without being able to reach out and touch him, the more she ached. The more she spent each waking and sleeping moment with him, the more she knew that, when they separated, the ache would turn unbearable.

She had no doubt that she would escape him. She had a friend, one person other than Ronan who knew her true nature, but then he had spent his childhood with her. He had seen why she had become callous, and he had kept her secret, and she, in turn, had seen him safe just as she had with Ronan.

He would help her, she had no doubt, and she would return to what she knew. But for now she would deal with Ronan. She would pretend as she had always done. She would play the heartless Carissa while all the time her heart was breaking.





Chapter 11




Days passed in similar fashion while the snow continued to fall, though not as heavily. And the steady accumulation made certain they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. You would think that they would grow tired of each other’s company since they were far from friends, but they never seemed to lack for conversation, or a good debate. And more often than not, and to Ronan’s dismay, Carissa could be found wrapped in his arms in the morning.

Lately, Carissa had begun to ask him about his childhood, and he had to admit he enjoyed revisiting it.

“So being the youngest of four brothers, they picked on you?” Carissa asked, as they sat in front of the hearth after supper.

“They tried”—he smiled—“but I outwitted them most of the time.”

“You played them against each other,” she said with a laugh.

Ronan chuckled. “They were so gullible. It was easy, except for Cavan. He allowed me to have my fun, but he was well aware of what I was up to.”

“You admire him.”

“And I respect him.” He frowned. “He nearly gave his life for me and lived through a year of hell because of me.”

“Not because of you,” she corrected, “for you.”

His frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“My father thought him a fool for turning back to try to save you when it was obvious the battle was lost and you captured. And yet Cavan rode into certain capture or possibly death to try to save you.”

“My fault,” he said, with an angry pound to his chest. “I called out to him like a coward.”

“You cried out to a brother who had never failed you, and so you believed was your only hope. And he, as a loving brother, returned for you, not because of you, not because you called out, but for you…his youngest brother, who he could not, or would not, leave behind.”

“He should have left me.”

“Would you have left him?” she asked.

“Never,” Ronan said without thinking.

“See,” Carissa boasted, “you both think the same and therefore would react the same. You and Cavan are more similar than either of you realize, and far different from your other brothers.”

The realization made Ronan wonder if Cavan carried as much guilt around with him as he himself did? He had dreaded, but also ached to reunite with his family. All this time he believed he had failed Cavan. When he had come upon his brothers at the entrance to the village Black, joy and terror had gripped him.

What did he say to Cavan? How would Cavan react to his return? And again he believed he had taken the coward’s way out. He had simply walked past them without letting them know who he was. And what had Cavan done when Artair asked the logical question of why he hadn’t announced himself immediately? Not only had Cavan made a plausible excuse for him, he had let him know that he was leaving Carissa’s fate in Ronan’s hands.

Cavan had even let him know that they would talk later, and Ronan wished his brother was here right now, for there was much that had to be said between them.