Bound to a Warrior (12 page)

Duncan stopped walking, forcing Mercy to do the same. His fingers went to the wound at her head and she winced when he probed the area.

“It looks as if it's turned an angry red, so there is no question to it,” Duncan said. “We go to the healer.”

“Able never claimed her to be a healer. He said she had a healing touch.”

“It matters not how she heals you,” Duncan said and brushed his lips across hers. “As long as she heals you.”

R
ain clouds thwarted the setting sun as Duncan and Mercy approached Bliss's cottage. Duncan stopped a few feet from it and glanced around. It was exceptionally quiet, but then that was more likely due to the land. This area had always been more serene than anyplace he had ever been. Though the cottage was a bit larger than the usual, it had familiar characteristics. And somehow he knew it welcomed.

He had no doubt they were being watched and had been since entering Pict territory. In a way it lent comfort, for the king's soldiers would be quickly noticed and not last long here.

“Something troubles you?” Mercy asked.

He smiled and with the urge stronger than ever to kiss her, he did and then said, “The only thing that troubles me is that I want to kiss you all the time. Your sweet, warm taste is addictive.” He kissed her again, needing to confirm it for himself. “I will never tire of the taste of you.”

“Then savor all you want,” she invited.

He wrapped his arm around her and drew her up against him, their bodies coming together in a perfect fit. “Be careful what you offer.”

“I offer it freely,” she said with bitter sadness that disturbed him.

He wanted to tell her that his offers came with conditions and promises, but now was not the time. There was much that had to be done, the chain coming off being one; and then it would be time to talk, and much needed to be said.

“Welcome.”

Duncan and Mercy turned at the sound of the melodic voice that called to them and both their eyes spread wide. The woman standing a few feet from the cottage was stunning. Her beauty actually captured their breath and left them speechless.

While her garments were those of a peasant woman, plain brown wool skirt and soft yellow blouse, her features were those of royalty. Her long blond hair varied in shades of shimmering gold and cascaded softly around her face and down over her shoulders, ending just past her breasts. She stood a good seven inches over five feet and was of slender build, but it was her face that caught and kept the attention.

Surely, she was of heavenly descent for only angels could be that beautiful.

“Come,” she waved to them. “The rain will start any moment now and bring with it an autumn chill.”

As if the sky heard, fat raindrops suddenly began to fall and Duncan, taking firm hold of Mercy's hand, ran with her to the cottage.

The woman closed the heavy door behind them and motioned them to the large fireplace. “Go warm yourself while I get you hot cider.”

Duncan and Mercy eagerly accepted her hospitality and sat on the floor in front of the roaring flames and let the heat soak through them.

“You are Bliss?” Duncan asked as she handed him a tankard of cider.

“I am and you must be Duncan,” she said and then turned, handing Mercy a tankard. “And you must be Mercy.”

Duncan furrowed his brow, wondering how she could possibly know who they were. She quickly satisfied his curiosity.

“News travels fast in these parts, especially when it concerns the king's soldiers chasing after a man and woman shackled together. Though none were sure you would come our way.”

“We had no choice,” Duncan explained.

“The king must want you both badly to send so many of his men after you,” Bliss said.

Duncan allowed her her conclusions. He didn't want to draw any special attention to himself. It might jeopardize his mission.

“You both must be exhausted, that chain is a heavy burden.”

“No!” Duncan and Mercy sang out and stared at each other, startled by their harmonious reply.

“The chains are no burden,” Duncan said, though his eyes were on Mercy. He had reiterated it often enough, but he wanted her to know again and again that she was not nor ever would be a burden to him, chains or no chains.

“Aye, Duncan is right,” Mercy said. “The chains are no burden at all.”

He smiled, pleased that she was letting him know that she felt the same.

The flames suddenly spit and roared, casting light upon them and making Mercy's head wound appear far more damaging than it was and causing Duncan alarm. But before he could voice his concern, Bliss spoke.

“I have salve that will help heal your wounds,” she offered and set about fetching it before either of them could thank her.

“You live here alone?” Mercy asked.

“So to speak,” Bliss said.

Duncan wondered what she meant, since she offered no further details, but he didn't ask. There was a sense of safety in her cottage, and he instinctively knew there was no need to worry while here.

While Bliss applied the salve to Mercy's head wound and then her wrist, she talked with them. Duncan noticed that her answers to questions that concerned her were vague, though she was quite informative about the land and her people.

He decided to respect her privacy and did not venture
any further than she wished. When she was done with Mercy she started on his wrists, rubbing the soothing salve over his wound. He had thought the cream would sting and her touch would hurt, being the skin was raw, but surprisingly, the salve was cool and her touch light.

Able had said she had a healing touch and he certainly agreed. Remarkably, his wrists were already feeling better.

When Bliss was done, she stood. “I have fresh clean clothes you both are welcome to if you'd like.”

Mercy's face lit with joy and then faded.

As if Bliss knew Mercy's mind, she said, “You can bathe first if you'd like.”

Mercy pointed to the chains. “It would be difficult, though I would dearly love to bathe and have fresh garments.”

“You can have both,” Bliss said. “There is a spot where I bathe. It is secluded and the water warm. And we'll work around the chains with some needle and thread.”

Mercy looked to Duncan. “What say you?”

He found himself speechless. While he wanted to bathe and have fresh clothes also, it would mean being naked with Mercy once again. And he just didn't know if this time he could keep his hands off her.

So far he'd been a chivalrous man, but that was before he'd kissed her again and again and damn if his hands weren't aching to touch her intimately.

“A bath it is.”

Had he truly said that? What was he thinking?

Long, lazy kisses, soft, exploring touches and endless hours of love making.

Damn he was in trouble.

“I'll take you there,” Bliss said, “and return for you in an hour.”

“Perhaps two hours?” Mercy asked. “If the water is warm, as you say, I would love to linger.”

Yes. Yes. Let's linger. No, you fool! No lingering.

Duncan warred with himself. How would he ever last two hours without touching her or making love to her?

Bliss nodded. “Two hours gives me time to cook a substantial supper.”

“You are very generous,” Mercy said, “tending us, offering us fresh clothing, and feeding us. I hope someday I can repay your generosity.”

“You will,” Bliss said. “Now let me get the things you'll need while you finish your cider.”

Mercy leaned close to Duncan once Bliss walked away and whispered, “She speaks as if it will be so, as if she knows.”

“She has good instinct,” he said, having noticed the same, though wondered if it was more than mere instinct she possessed.

“Did you notice that her touch soothed and caused no pain?”

“I did,” he admitted, wondering over it himself.

“And this place is like none I've ever known.”

“You don't wish to stay?”

“No, I don't wish to leave,” Mercy said, smiling. “The
only other place I feel so safe and comforted is in your arms.”

He slipped an arm around her and grinned. “Now you're doubly safe and comforted.”

Her soft laughter rippled over him and grabbed at his heart and made the thought of bathing naked while chained to her all the more appealing.

“Ready?” Bliss asked.

Duncan stood, taking Mercy along with him as
he
had grown accustomed to doing. And she had taken his hand, moving along with him as
she
had grown accustomed to doing. They worked as one, without thought or complaint and it felt right.

The rain had changed to a fine mist as Bliss, carrying a torch, lead the way.

There was a chill in the night air and Duncan worried that the water would be too cold for them to bathe. Bliss addressed his unspoken concern as if she had clearly heard his thoughts.

“The spot I take you to is in a cave, the water warm year round and not more than five feet deep.”

Duncan nearly groaned aloud. Bliss described the perfect secluded setting for seduction.

And secluded it was. Brush and trees guarded the cave entrance. If one didn't know the cave was there, it would never be found. Once inside, Duncan was amazed by the warmth and quiet beauty of the concealed place. Flat rocks encircled the water.

Bliss put down the basket she'd been carrying. “All
you need is in here. Enjoy.” And with that she turned and was gone.

They stood staring after her, even though she was gone from sight. Silence hung heavy, neither of them exchanging a single word.

Mercy finally spoke, her sultry voice a soft echo in the cave. “It looks so inviting.”

“Then we shouldn't waste a minute,” Duncan said and meant it. He wanted every second he could get alone with her.

Mercy nodded. “We should see what's in the basket.”

Duncan agreed, bending down along with her as she removed the cloth covering the good-sized basket and removed the items to lie upon the flat rock.

Towels, sweet-scented soap, fresh garments, as promised, and a knife to cut off parts of their clothing the chain wouldn't allow them to relinquish. And a small jug of wine and hunk of dark bread, which they both looked at and smiled.

“Bliss is blessed with a magical mind,” Duncan said.

Mercy broke off a sizable chunk of bread. “For which I am forever grateful.”

Duncan joined her.

They lingered over the food and drink and Duncan wondered if it was due to hunger or apprehension over bathing naked together. It wasn't as though they had not
been naked in front of each other before, yet this time seemed different. And he knew why.

He wanted her and not simply for the sake of satisfying his lust. No, it was more than satisfying a need. It was satisfying that wrench in his gut, or that stab to his heart. He wanted to make her his. Put his mark on her. Claim his territory.

However it was, he wanted her to belong to him and him alone.

Did he love her?

He almost laughed aloud.

What else would make him feel so strange and yet make it all seem so right?

“Have you second thoughts about this?” Mercy asked.

“No,” he said, resting his hands at her waist and squeezing lightly. “Not at all. I look forward to it.”

He saw the flash of apprehension in her brief smile. And wanting to ease her concern he scooped up the knife and held the handle out to her.

“Divest me first of these filthy garments, and then I shall do the same for you.”

Her worries seemed to melt if only a little, but it was a start.

“Wait,” he said and tugged his boots off, tossing them aside. Then he tugged at his plaid until it fell to settle around his feet. “I'm ready.”

He had to smile, for her hand did not tremble, nor
did she hesitate. Courage did not fail her as she sliced at his shirt until it finally joined his plaid. He shoved both aside with his bare foot. Then he reached out to take the knife from her.

“Your turn.”

She nodded slowly and bracing her hand to his shoulder, she rid herself of her boots.

He liked that she didn't hesitate to lean on him. It told him that she was comfortable in relying on him and he liked that.

She dropped her skirt to the ground and announced, “I'm ready.”

He made quick work of slicing off her blouse. It dropped to her feet in seconds, her glance following its descent. When she didn't raise her head he lifted her chin with one finger.

“You have nothing to fear from me,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered.

“Then what's wrong?”

She placed her hand to his chest.

Her innocent and gentle touch had him struggling to keep control of his passion. This was not going to be easy. He could feel desire pulsating through him like hot fire and any moment now his member would flame to life and let himself be known.

She hesitated, and he could see she struggled to speak.

He encouraged her. “You can tell me, Mercy. You can tell me anything.”

“But what of the consequences?”

He ran the pad of his thumb over her soft, rosy lips. “There are no consequences for us, only solutions.”

“Oh, if that were only true,” she said with a sigh.

“Tell me what worries you and I will provide the solution.”

“You are so sure,” she said.

“I am,” he boasted and gave her waist a loving squeeze.

She thought a moment and nodded, her decision made. “It is simple, but then again not so simple.”

“Tell me,” he urged and she did.

“I want you.”

I
f Mercy had hesitated even for the briefest of moments, she would have never had the courage to speak her mind. Even now she wondered if she had done the right thing, though her body was certainly tingling with glee. That didn't mean it was the wisest of choices. Whatever was she doing?

Falling in love.

Mercy snapped her head around, the voice so clear that she thought someone stood behind her. But no one was there, though the words lingered in her mind. Was she truly falling in love with Duncan? Was she afraid to admit it?

She shook her head, not certain if she was shaking away the thought or denying it.

“No changing your mind,” he warned laughingly and slipped his arm around her slim waist.

She didn't want to change her mind. She wanted this time with him. She wanted to make memories with him, no matter the consequences.

“No, I will not change my mind,” she said. “I don't want to.”

“You know just the right words to stir a man.”

She chuckled. “By sheer luck.”

“No,” he whispered close to her lips. “By sheer desire.”

His warm breath faint with the scent of wine fanned her cheeks and sent tingles through her. And shivers rippled over her body, running down to the tips of her toes.

Duncan took firm hold of her chin. “You and I are meant to be.”

“You are so sure?”

“Aye, with clear certainty,” he claimed with a sharp nod.

She wished to ask what he meant. Were they to be lovers, friends, or more? But she didn't have the courage. She was much too afraid of the answer.

“We shouldn't waste what time we have talking,” he said and took hold of her hand.

She quickly scooped up the soap before keeping step with him. And before her foot touched the water, he swung her up high into his arms, kissing her quickly and cradling her, then walked them into the comforting warm water.

Her arm went around his neck and her head to his chest as he slowly surrendered their aching bodies to the water's heat.

“I think I've died and gone to heaven,” she said.

“Not yet you haven't, but fear not, I will take you there.”

Mercy chuckled. She loved his humor. Oddly, it calmed her. And whether this decision of hers was right or wrong, she had made it, and she would have no regrets.

“I wish to wash,” she said, wanting to be sweet scented for him.

“We do think alike.”

He set her on her feet, the water rushing to tease the tips of her rosy nipples, while his chest lay fully exposed. Hard muscles rippled over hard muscles and her eyes drank in the enticing sight until…

He was suddenly gone, dunking himself until he disappeared beneath the surface, leaving behind him a rash of small waves that descended on Mercy. Then unexpectedly he rose up out of the water, grabbed her around the waist and plunged them beneath the surface.

Mercy wasn't ready, wasn't sure what to do and when they rose out of the water, a moment later, her arm wrapped tight around his neck, she was coughing and spurting.

He wiped the rivulets of water from her face. “Easy,” he cautioned. “Breathe easy.” He demonstrated taking slow breaths himself and when she finally maintained the rhythm on her own, he apologized. “I forgot you are not accustomed to the water.”

“Teach me,” she insisted.

“Now?”

She nodded. “I never want to be caught in such a position again. The next time it is necessary for me to
jump or dunk in a river or stream, I want to do so with confidence.”

He hesitated and she knew why and commiserated. She, like he, had expected this time to be one of intimacy. But the unexpected dunk beneath the water had frightened her, chilled her to the core with the memory of jumping off the cliff. And while he had been there to keep her from drowning, the truth was that she couldn't count on him always being there. Even though he claimed he would always be there for her, there might come a time when she was on her own.

He suddenly seemed to understand. “You do need to learn to swim.”

“I do,” she agreed hastily.

“It may take more than one lesson.”

“I learn quickly.”

He grinned. “That is good to know.”

She chuckled. “Of course that depends on what kind of teacher you are.”

His laughter was more a seductive growl. “I'm an excellent teacher…in all things.”

She brought her lips close to his. “Then I look forward to learning from you.”

He stole a kiss and while she knew he intended it to be a quick one, it wasn't. Once their lips touched, their hunger took command and nothing mattered, nothing at all, expect satisfying their voracious appetite for each other.

They feasted, enjoying every succulent taste, drinking in the nectar of their passion while never quite appeasing it.

His hands drifted to her bare bottom and hoisted her up against him. That he wanted her was undeniable, she could feel his strength, his thickness, his hungry need, and her own.

She tingled between her legs so badly that she wanted nothing more than to feel him hard and bulging inside her, to satisfy her aching need. It would be easy and done with and that sudden realization quickly cooled her ardor.

She did not want her first time with him to be a quick spurt of lovemaking. There was more between them that needed to be explored and felt, and understood. She reluctantly ended the kiss nibbling along his lip before she was finally able to pull away.

“I—I—” She stuttered unable to voice what she was feeling, since she barely understood it herself.

She wasn't surprised that he already knew. He seemed to have the uncanny ability to understand her before she understood herself.

He nuzzled her neck with his mouth and then his lips drifted to her ear. “Our first time making love will be special. It will not be planned, or done in haste. It will come naturally, as it should, and we will remember and cherish it always.”

She laid her hand to his moist, heated cheek. “You are a good man.”

“What happened to chivalrous?”

She smiled. “You are that too.”

“And I am a teacher,” he said, “and you my pupil. Now you will learn to swim.”

He turned her over on her stomach, his free hand around her waist and his chained one extended so that she could have use of hers.

“This will be difficult due to the shackles,” he said.

“I believe if I acquaint myself with the fundamentals, then I will be able to learn fast.”

It was more difficult with the shackles than either of them imagined and several times Duncan had to keep her from sinking. Finally, Mercy stood and slapped the water hard sending it splashing over the two of them.

“I've had enough,” she cried. “I'll never learn to swim.

“Aye, you will,” Duncan said sternly. “You're a warrior woman and warrior women never give up. And besides, if I can manage to continuously stare at your beautiful round, bobbing derrière and keep control of my ardor, then you can learn how to swim.”

She opened her mouth and he pressed his finger over her lips. “Don't dare tell me how gallant I am, for I have the most ungallant thoughts right now.”

Mercy wished to know his ungallant thoughts, every last one of them, but knew it unwise. It would be far better if they simply did what they came here to do, be done with it and wait for Bliss to return.

“Perhaps we should wash,” she suggested.

“A good idea,” he said. “We only need to find the soap.

“I dropped it,” Mercy said realizing for the first time that she had done just that. “It must have sunk, we'll never find it.”

“Actually, it's floating a short distance behind you.”

Mercy turned to see the bar bobbing in the water. “I've never seen such a thing.”

“Bliss's soap must be magical; lucky for us, since it will take magic to get this ton of grime off us,” Duncan teased.

He retrieved the soap and offered it first to her.

She was quick to lather her hair, and return it to him, and they scrubbed the grime laden strands in relative silence. They dunk, rinsed and scrubbed their bodies, asking only that each of them scrub the other's back and did so quickly and thoroughly.

When they finished, they bobbed in the water, at the safest distance the chain allowed, enjoying its soothing balm.

While they didn't touch, didn't even hold hands, Mercy felt it an intimate moment. It was as if awkwardness disappeared, vulnerability vanished and pure trust took hold. She knew this man placed her importance before his and there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. Hadn't he proved that by attempting to teach her how to swim instead of making love to her?

He could have easily cajoled her into making love, but he hadn't and she loved him all the more for it.

Love.

That word haunted her, simply refused to leave her alone and while she would love to love and be loved, if she dared do so it could have dangerous repercussions.

Her life was in such turmoil. If only none of this had ever happened.

Her heart suffered a sudden stab and she realized that if her life had continued on uninterrupted she would have never gotten to know Duncan. And that would have been the greatest loss in her life.

Oddly enough, her mother's choice had provided her with a good man. Perhaps not one her mother would have chosen, and more than likely would have objected to, but a man Mercy found utterly appealing, full of humor and gallant beyond words and one she was easily losing her heart to.

Without realizing it, she released a heavy sigh and Duncan came immediately to her side, slipping his arm around her, an act so simple and yet so meaningful to her. His arm lent support, comfort and protection, and though she had never admitted it, it was also a loving gesture.

“Why the sigh?” he asked.

“Memories and thoughts,” she said.

“That trouble or sadden?”

“A bit of both.”

“Then it is new memories we must make,” he said with a grin and a wink.

She laughed and felt her heart grow light. “I like that thought.”

“See, a new memory already.”

Her face sparkled with happiness as she said, “This time, this moment here with you will be a memory I will always cherish.”

His grin turned wicked. “This cherished memory will pale in comparison to what I have planned for you.”

A tingle of pleasure shot through her and she wondered that if his words could so easily entice, how would it feel when he made love to her?

She shivered at the tempting thought.

“You grow cold, time to get dried and”—his dark eyes twinkled with mischief—“unfortunately clothe ourselves.”

She agreed, though silently, that it was unfortunate and reluctantly walked with him out of the warm water. With her thoughts where they shouldn't be, she didn't pay attention, and as soon as her wet foot connected with a smooth, though wet and slippery stone, she found her feet going out from under her, her hand grabbing for Duncan, and he grabbing her forcefully around the waist, twisting them and taking the full brunt of the fall.

She came down hard on top of him, her breath rushing out of her and her senses shocked. It took a shake of her head and a deep breath to regain her wits and hear the groan.

“Duncan!” she cried and looked down to see him grimacing and groaning. “Where are you hurt?”

“Why? Will you kiss it and make it all better?”

“You tease so you must be all right,” she said with a smile.

“Anytime that you're lying on top of me, I'm more than all right.”

She laughed. “You are wicked.”

“As wicked as you want me to be,” he whispered in her ear and then stole a quick kiss.

A rush of tingles ran through her and she couldn't stop her body from shivering.

“Hmmm, now I'm wondering if perhaps it isn't the cold that disturbs you, but rather the
heat
.” His teasing eyes suddenly sparked with desire.

“It is,” she admitted freely. “You know that I want you. I have not denied that.”

“Which makes our present position even more difficult.”

She felt him then, rise against her naked flesh and damn if the size of him snuggling its way between her legs didn't feel good and didn't make her want to surrender.

He faintly brushed his lips over hers then said, “As much as I would love to dive deep inside you and pleasure you beyond reason, there simply isn't time.”

As if on cue, Bliss called out, “Are you done?”

They scrambled off each other.

“A moment, please,” Mercy called out. “We're almost finished.”

They both dressed with haste, and while Mercy had longed for clean garments, the sweet-smelling clothes
were lost to her as her mind remained occupied with thoughts of Duncan. And continued to do so even after Bliss entered and began stitching the garments closed around the chains.

Food, clothes, shelter, nothing seemed to matter to her at the moment except Duncan. Her body refused to relinquish the thought of making love with him. The tingles in her body would not subside and she worried that they never would, at least not until her body was satisfied, not until Duncan and she made love.

And that day was coming soon…very soon.