Highlander’s Curse (26 page)

One look at Colin’s expression as he approached and Abby knew it was time for immediate action. She pulled the coverlet from the top of the bed and quickly wadded it into a roll, plopping it on top of the nearest pillow and pushing the entire bundle toward him.

“There. Do you think that will be enough bedding for you? I mean, you are planning on sleeping on the floor, right?” Because he wasn’t sleeping in the bed. Not with her. She remembered all too well how she’d behaved the last time she’d been horizontal next to Colin.

“I’ve enough of the hard ground in my future. It’s my own bed I’ll be sleeping in this night.”

“Okay.” She pulled the bundle back toward her and picked it up in her arms. “You’re right. It is your bed. I’ll take the floor.”

The hearth looked a likely spot. There was already a rug there to soften the stone floor a bit. She skirted around the bed, but made it only a few steps before Colin’s big hand clamped down on her arm.

“No.” He pulled her to him until their faces were mere inches apart. “You’ll have yer own fill of the hard ground in a day’s time.”

And then he was kissing her.

She somehow missed the start of it. One minute she was staring into the deep pools of his Caribbean blue eyes and the next thing she knew, her tongue was buried in his mouth, her fingers tangled in his hair, and her body thrumming with need.

He broke the kiss, his warm lips trailing across her cheek and to her neck as she fought to catch her breath in quick, desperate little huffs.

Damn, but he was dangerous. And not just because of the way he looked. Or the way he kissed. It was the soft-guy interior packaged in a tough-guy wrapper. It was the kind and gentle way he touched her, the sweet things he did for her.

It was everything about him.

“A shame it is. Hard, rocky ground under yer lovely soft body,” he whispered. “Every night, stones and twigs digging into yer flesh. Unless you’ll but agree to stay here and wait for me to return to you.”

Okay. Not everything about him. His unrelenting stubbornness wasn’t all that attractive.

“No.”

He buried his face in her neck, holding her so close she could feel his heartbeat pounding against her breast.

“Then wish yerself home now. I’d have you lost to me rather than risk yer safety by taking you with me.”

He was nothing if not honest with her. She owed him no less. It was time to confess.

“It won’t work. I already tried. You’re my only way home, Colin. I don’t understand all that much about Faerie Magic, but I do know I can’t go back without you at my side. I’d be happy to wish us both back, if that’s what you want.” In a heartbeat.

“I canna. And I’ve yer oath you’ll no try it without my consent.” He drew his head up from her, pain evident in his face. “Can you no understand that I couldna live with myself if I thought I’d let my kinsmen die without even trying to save them?”

“I do.” Her oath was all that kept her from saying the words to send them home right now. “Can’t you understand my need to be at your side?”

“I do,” he answered in an echo of her own words, sweeping an arm under her legs and lifting her off her feet like a small child. “Truce, then. We’ll share the bed this night, me to my side and you to yers, aye? I swear to you that I’ll make him-with-no-name behave himself.”

When he gave her that almost smile of his, she had to force herself not to drag his face down for another kiss. How could she not agree to his offer? Even in his annoying efforts to leave her behind, she knew his goal was to keep her safe. He’d hidden nothing from her.

“Truce, then,” she agreed, rolling onto her side to blow out the candle next to the bed.

Candles. Her eyes fluttered open, the word niggling at some uncomfortable spot in the back of her mind. What was it about . . .

It’s no so very different from the great steaming tub out back of yer own home, though we’ve no so many candles for you to light.

“How did you know about my hot tub? You didn’t go into my backyard when you were there.”

The pause before he answered seemed to last an eternity.

“I returned later. I saw you there, with yer candles lit all about you.”

“You spied on me? You hid out in the bushes and spied on me? Why would you do that?”

“I needed to see for myself that you were . . .” Another pause, as if he had changed his mind about what to say and was hunting for new words. “I wanted to see you were safe.”

Perhaps she’d been too quick to conclude he hid nothing. Too quick to assume his honesty.

“And you never thought to tell me about that?”

“I thought it for the best.”

The finality in his tone told her their conversation was at an end.

Her thoughts, on the other hand, raced. If he had kept something like that from her, what else might he be capable of in pursuit of what he thought best?

A truce, he’d offered, a truce she’d accepted. But that didn’t mean ignoring her common sense.

Truce, but no trust.

She lay very still on her side of the big bed, waiting until his breathing slowed and deepened before climbing
out of the bed to find her clothes and dress. The little knives were too much of a hassle in the limited light of the dying fire, so she compromised by sticking the smaller of the two into the bust of her gown.

Once ready, she retrieved the bundle of bedding from the floor and carried it to her side of the bed, slipping it under her covers. She tiptoed to the door and quietly let herself out into the hallway.

Dropping to her knees, she propped her back against the doorway and stretched her legs across the opening.

Truce but no trust.

In the last twenty-four hours, Colin had tried every tactic she could imagine to avoid taking her with him tomorrow. Only sneaking out without her was left.

After seeing the sincerity and pain in his eyes tonight, she had little doubt but that he’d try that one, too.

And when he did? He’d find her waiting.

Truce but no trust.

W
hy did she have to be so damned stubborn?

Colin tightened his hold on his reins and cast another stealthy glance Abby’s direction. She sat her horse well enough, though her back slumped a bit more than it had in the first hours of their ride. Her face showed the strain of their long day in the saddle but she rode on, refusing to admit a need to stop and rest.

“There’s a place no too far ahead where we’ll set up camp for the night.”

Relief flashed across her face, but she quickly suppressed any evidence of the emotion, giving him a solemn nod to show her agreement.

“You don’t have to stop for me. We’ve still got daylight ahead of us. I can keep going as long as we need to.”

Stubborn woman. Brazen and demanding. In all
fairness, he had to give her credit, too, for her wit and intelligence as well.

Far too intelligent for her own good, perhaps.

Charitable and forgiving, too, though it galled him to admit these last qualities. Admitting them forced him to face his own shortcomings.

He’d awakened early, even before the first rays of the sun had made their appearance. Using great care to avoid waking Abby, he’d dressed and silently gathered his things.

Nothing he’d tried the night before had worked to convince her to stay behind, so all that was left to him was to go while she slept. Once it was done, there would be nothing she could do about it.

Quietly, ever so quietly, he’d opened the door to their bedchamber and attempted to slip away, only to stumble over her legs and land beside her on the hard stone floor.

“I knew you’d try that,” she’d said, her disappointment in him palpable.

He’d made one last desperate appeal to her and the whole of his family, all to no avail. As if in a great conspiracy against common sense, they all agreed she should accompany him.

And accompany him she did. Without a single reference to his deceit and trickery. Without a single word of rebuke. In truth, with almost no words at all. She’d simply sat on her horse the whole of the long day, never once complaining.

Not even now.

“I’ve no a doubt you could carry on endlessly, wife, but the horses grow weary after such a long day.”

Her eyes cut to him and away, as they did each time he called her by that appellation. He found he rather enjoyed it, both the sound of the word itself and her reaction to it. He hid his unexpected need to smile in explanation.

“We have more light than we ken what to do with in our summers. The light outlasts the stamina of our mounts. They need rest in order to carry us tomorrow.”

A little farther on, he directed them from the road through the trees and to a sheltered spot by a fast-flowing stream. There he dismounted and led his horse to a grassy area, looping the animal’s reins around a branch within reach of the water, all the while keeping a close watch on Abby.

She was slow to dismount, stumbling when her feet hit the ground.

“Do you need help?” he called, knowing before he asked she’d refuse.

She didn’t disappoint.

“You just worry about yourself. I’m fine.” With a hand at her lower back, she stiffly led her mount over to join his.

“I’ll gather kindling and start the fire if you want to carry our foodstuffs and blankets over to that flat area by the rocks.”

She nodded, her fingers already fumbling with the ties on her pack. “Fire? We’re not cooking, are we? Why do we need a fire this early?”

“It’s later than you realize, Abby. And after the hours we’ve spent traveling today, sleep will likely overtake us as soon as we finish our meal. The fire will burn down, but the rocks I’ll place around it will give off heat
during the night. Dinna fear, wife, we’ll have plenty of cold dark nights ahead of us on this journey, but for now, there’s no a need to forgo a fire.”

Wordlessly, she returned to unlacing the pack on her mount’s back and taking it to the area he’d indicated. She returned to fetch his as he headed into the trees.

It was a dry year in the Highlands, bad for the sheep and the shepherds, but welcome for his needs at the moment. Dry underbrush and twigs meant he could easily gather the fuel he needed for their fire without having to lose sight of Abby.

Not that he actually expected any trouble here. He could easily feel that they were alone in this remote area. When he let down his barriers, Abby’s was the only soul he felt for miles. He concentrated and allowed his senses to expand. Like a bird in flight, his mind flew through a foreign landscape of colors, ignoring the tortured calls of the souls he bypassed. Farther on he explored, following the two familiar patterns that glowed like a beacon on the horizon.

Alasdair and Simeon both lived, their lonely, broken souls shining as brightly as ever.

He prayed that they might stay that way until he could reach them. Even without Abby to slow his progress, time was against him, conspiring to keep him from reaching his kinsmen until after the battle at Methven. Too late for that perhaps, but not too late to warn his king of what was to come, no matter what his family had said.

Arms full, he rejoined Abby, settling in to the work of building their fire in silence. The flames were just beginning to lick hungrily around the dry tinder when she stood.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

He was on his feet before she finished pushing away the first branches. “Where do you think yer going?” he demanded of her retreating back.

“To do my girl thing in the bushes.”

He didn’t care for the idea of having her out of his sight. “Would you like me to come stand guard as you—”

“Absolutely not!” she interrupted, her eyes widening in shock. “Relax. I’ll scream real loud if I need you. I promise.”

Of that he had no doubt. His Abby was not one to go down without a fight. Besides, he’d scanned the area and knew there wasn’t a single person close enough to cause her any harm.

He’d barely had time to sit before another worry replaced the last. No people, perhaps, but there could well be animals. He was back on his feet, moving in the direction she’d disappeared in, when he heard her returning.