“So ye have a family.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Far away from here. So far away, you won’t believe me if I tell you.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been far away. I lived in hell for eleven years. There’s little ye can say that would sound unbelievable.”
Kate sighed. “I need to go back, Ian. I cannot return to Dundail with you. You really should go and protect your people from the English, because they’re making their way north from the MacDougall lands to Inverlochy and they’re raiding and taking everything on their way.”
Ian’s jaws tightened, his nostrils flared. “Bastarts.”
“Yeah. They are. But I must go to Inverlochy and reach my family. If I don’t go back, my sick sister and my ten-year-old nephew will be on the streets.”
Ian’s face fell. “Ye want to go alone to Inverlochy? Through lands infested with the English?”
Kate’s cheek stung at the word “English.” She opened her mouth, but Ian interrupted.
“And ye think I will let ye go?”
“Ian, I have to try.”
“To try and die?” he scoffed. “Nae. I’ll tie ye to the horse if I must, but I wilna let ye go alone.”
Kate gasped. “Tie me to the horse? Ian! It’s my business. It’s is not your concern.”
His chest rose and fell quickly as he glared at her, his fists clenching.
“Ye’re wrong, lass. ’Tis my concern. Ye’re my concern.”
She was his concern? Did he care about her? Kate’s heart fluttered in her chest.
“I wilna let another innocent person die because I failed to protect them,” he said. “So ’tis what I suggest. Ye wait until I deal with the damned Sassenachs. Then I’ll take ye myself. Make sure ye’re safe.”
Kate closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. He was right. Of course he was right about safety. But could she wait even a few more days? She had no idea. She could only hope Mandy and Jax were still all right and that if she was delayed a little longer, nothing bad would happen to them.
But what about the well-armed English, who were a much bigger force? How would one man, however powerful, deal with them? Was it possible she was putting herself in more danger staying with Ian than leaving him?
But there was something about him that made her feel safe. Somehow, she knew that he would never let any harm come to her. He’d find a way.
“It’s the wisest choice,” she said. “You’re right.”
Besides, the thought of spending a few more days with Ian lit her up like a Christmas tree.
“Good,” he said. “I wouldna want ye to go through that hell.”
His eyes sad, as though he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and there wouldn’t be an end to it.
She wanted to share the burden.
“Tell me about hell,” Kate said.
His eyes widened in surprise, then he frowned and looked at his hands. They were clean now, no more blood.
“Ye want to ken about hell? Picture what I did back there to those men and repeat it a hundred times.”
Kate’s mouth went dry—not from the knowledge that he’d killed a hundred men, but from the pain she’d heard in his voice. It was as though his very soul ached, torn by the memories of the deeds he’d done.
“Picture that,” he rasped. “And tell me then that ye still want to ken.”
She laid her hand on his forearm, and he jolted a little but didn’t break the contact.
“I want to know, Ian,” Kate pressed. “If you think the fact that you saved my life, by whatever means you could, terrifies me, it doesn’t. If you think my opinion of you changed, it did. I respect you even more now. No one has ever done what you’ve done for me. All I have for you is gratitude. All I feel for you is—”
Love.
Was she crazy to think she was in love with him after knowing him for so little time? But her heart tap-danced inside her chest, and her whole body floated, as light as a feather.
She didn’t say the word out loud, but Ian’s eyes darkened, and a mixture of a hope and pain flashed through his face.
He turned to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her to him. He paused, eyeing her, his gaze an intoxicating combination of admiration and doubt.
“Where have ye been my whole life, lass?” he said.
“So far away, you won’t believe me,” she whispered, then stood on her toes, reached out to him, and kissed him.
Chapter 17
Her lips were like petals—delicate, supple, and warm. Her body pressed against his was heaven, the feel of her stirring fire in his loins. He drank the kiss like a healing draft, sweet and fresh and magical.
He eased his tongue into the depths of her mouth, swiping it against hers with gentle strokes. She responded, the touch of her tongue sending a succulent wave of pleasure through him. She tasted of forbidden delights, of the secrets of the world, and he wanted to know all of them.
Her hands wrapped around his neck, and he tightened his arms around her, wanting to have as little space between them as humanly possible. And as few clothes…
He tugged her to the ground and they sank to their knees, then he gently laid her on the grass and stretched himself out next to her. He coveted her, wanted to cherish every part of her body.
He’d never imagined she would be so accepting of his confession just now, and not think him a monster after what she’d seen him do to the English. Her reaction humbled him. He didn’t deserve a bonnie lass like her. She offered her acceptance so easily.
It was a streak of luck he’d encountered those Sassenach soldiers and could free her. If he’d returned home and found out she’d left without saying goodbye to him, he would have hurt more than he’d like. A painful heaviness formed in his chest. She was here in his arms now. The biggest blessing of all.
He brushed his hand
