The Highlander's Forbidden Bride(74)

Carissa saw that Ronan surveyed the room, and she knew he’d reach the obvious conclusion.

“You planned to eat alone,” he said.

Zia gasped. “You shouldn’t be alone if you aren’t feeling well.”

Ronan agreed, and before Carissa knew what was happening, she was hurried to the keep, where Zia, with help from Honora and Alyce, had her tucked at the table with a soft wool blanket wrapped around her.

Ronan had seen to her rabbit stew being brought along with her as well as the fresh bread she had baked and the remainder of the apple buns, to the disappointment of the guards.

She was tucked and snug against Ronan as the Sinclares began to fill their bowls with her stew and share the bread she had made, while the twins happily ate the apple buns.

Carissa listened though she did not partake of the banter among the Sinclares. They were family, and while she sat among them, she still could not claim herself one. But she wished she could. They loved and laughed. They teased and tormented. But always, always, they were family.

She could even see how the Sinclare brothers—all but Ronan—tried hard to accept Hagen. Ronan had no problem with Hagen since he had fought by his side and knew him well. And Ronan trusted that his brothers would discover Hagen’s worth for themselves.

This, she realized, was family. Something she had never known and what she had always hoped for and dreamed of, and yet never found. Now that it was in her reach, she ached to be part of it.

Carissa ate very little and hadn’t realized that Ronan urged her to eat more. She had been too consumed by what went on around her.

“More! More!” the lad Ronan yelled, and his brother Tavish joined in.

“They love your apple buns,” Honora said.

“I do too,” Cavan said, splitting the last one to share with his twin sons.

“I’ll make more tomorrow,” Carissa said.

“Only if you’re feeling well enough,” Ronan insisted.

“Ronan’s right,” Cavan said, “only if you feel up to it.”

Carissa remained silent, the whole night remaining strange to her. Laughter mixed with chatter. Praise for her cooking circled the table, and when Cavan suggested that she share her cooking talent with the cooks, she thought for sure she was in a dream.

But it was when Ronan walked her to the cottage and closed the door behind him and took her in his arms and kissed her that she believed a dream.



“Do you know how much I want to make love to you?’ Ronan asked.

“You can’t,” Carissa said, telling herself it had to be this way. There was no choice. It was for the best.

“Why?”

“Your brother dictated as much,” she said.

“My brother cannot dictate love.”

Carissa managed to regain some of her senses, his kiss having rendered her vulnerable. “But who do you love, Ronan?”

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear before nibbling along it and sending shivers down her spine.

“Who am I?” she asked, surrendering to his hands, which had managed to find their way beneath her garments to tease and tempt.

“The woman I love.”

Carissa groaned when his mouth attacked her neck with nibbles and nips that tormented her beyond belief.

Somewhere reason assaulted her as he continued to taste her. “We can’t do this.”

With a strong arm wrapped securely around her waist, Ronan lifted her against him and carried her along to the bed. “I have let far too many people dictate my future. You are mine. You belong to me. And no one, not even my laird, will tell me that I can’t make love to you.”





Chapter 31




Ronan went down on the bed with her, and she sighed with the pleasure of his body covering hers. And though he felt so very good, and it felt so very right for him to be there with her this way, a nagging voice warned her against it.

“Ronan—”

He captured her mouth with his and kissed her senseless. It took her a few minutes to gather her wits, and the moment she did, he kissed her again, leaving her breathless.

“We need to talk,” she said quickly before he stole another kiss.

“No,” he said, and claimed her mouth again.

When he finished, she caught her breath, and said sternly, “Enough, we must talk.”

He was off her in a flash, but not before she caught a hint of anger in his eyes. She didn’t have to wonder over it. She knew what had caused it. He had recognized Carissa in her commanding tone.

He turned his back to her when he had stood and had yet to turn around and face her. No doubt he attempted to compose himself, but it didn’t truly matter. Even though it was for a brief moment, she had clearly seen anger in his eyes where only moments before she had seen love.