The Highlander's Warrior Bride (8 page)

Just a subtle difference, a whisper of someone passing through these parts just as stealthily as she attempted. Was it Ronan? Or
a scout from those who’d made camp back at Ross’ grounds. One outlaw would make it easier, but two or three would make it more entertaining
.
A challenge.

Julianna clenched her jaw and with her free hand slid her sword from
within its scabbard beneath her saddle. She was prepared to protect herself and her animal. No one would get in her way.

Subtle crunching of leaves and sticks came from in front of her. If she had to guess
, judging from the wind that carried the sounds, the person or persons were about thirty or forty feet away. She supposed she still possessed some skill after all.

Julianna went left. If whoever it was, was headed in her direction she was not going to continue in their path. Either they’d continue on, none the wiser to her presence, or they’d follow her. Once she determined their intent, she’d make her next move.

Urging Brave forward, she moved at a snail’s pace to the left, easing between trees, over fallen logs and around thick brambles. She stopped every five feet or so to listen. At first the person continued on their path and Julianna had hope that she’d be rid of them. Three miles to Kinterloch would take her a couple of hours on foot, and she hoped to mount Brave at some point to quicken the pace.

But hope departed when the sounds of
those who approached accelerated their pace, coming closer, echoing in the eerie forest air.

“Och,” Julianna ground out
under her breath. They
were
following her. While she’d enjoy the chance to practice her skills at weaponry, she
was
quite exhausted.

With furtive
eyes, she looked around for a place to hide. Hiding was always harder with an animal as huge as Brave. His black coat was on his side as far as camouflage and while he was trained to maintain his silence at her command, she couldn’t control everything. If he had to sneeze, the animal wouldn’t have the forethought to keep it to himself. She glanced at Brave. Had he sneezed at all today? Not recalling an instance, she prayed it would remain that way.

Julianna
sheathed her sword, mounted the horse and clicked her tongue. Whoever followed already knew where she was, she had to gain speed or else be a sitting duck.

From behind, the sounds of pounding hooves reached her. The one who followed had also mounted their horse.

“Damn! Faster, Brave,” she urged.

Julianna used all of her concentration to avoid hitting low hanging branches and to keep Brave from tripping over fallen trees. Being followed was already a given, she need not listen continuously to their approach, it was inevitable.

Bursting from the trees she found herself crossing over a hilly glen, dotted with protruding stones that glimmered in the moonlight. The sky was vast and black, filled with diamond stars and a bright moon. The grounds grew rougher, and the approaching rider came closer. She didn’t dare turn around for fear of slowing Brave’s pace. Her mount breathed hard, his muscles rippled with excitement at being able to burn energy. His hooves dug deep in the ground, clumps of earth flying behind them.

With each stride
, the glen grew into a maze of ever growing rocks, some as tall as a croft, until she felt like she could get lost among them. After one sharp turn, she yanked Brave’s reins to the right, up and over the rocky hill and then down behind, where she abruptly stopped. Dismounting, she crawled up to the edge where she could look over and down onto the path she’d just tread on. The ground was cold and wet to her bare hands, and she could feel its chill seeping through her cloak and gown at the knees. The rider approached at a break-neck pace. His cloak was dark and flashes of his plaid were seen with every pound of his mount’s front legs. He was adorned in weapons, and lucky for her—alone. He disappeared beyond the sharp turn. Good riddance.

“Pray dinna think to double back as I have done. God speed t
o ye, mutton-head,” she mumbled, staring at the emptiness of the road below.

“And God-speed to ye too, lass.”

Julianna froze upon the ground. Terror took over, seizing her breath and her heart. She was sure she’d been careful. Not careful enough apparently.

“Dinna get up on my account,” the man said with a chuckle. His voice was deep, throaty and completely familiar.

“Ronan,” Julianna said, pushing to her feet. She whirled around. Wiped her dirty hands on her cloak.

He stood on the ground, his horse ten feet away munching on grass.
The hound sat beside the horse, tail thumping. Obviously pleased it had found its catch. Ronan tossed the dog a strip of something.

How had she not heard his approach?
This
mutton-head was deceptively better skilled at stalking then he’d let on.

Hands on her hips, she glowered at him, hoping the light of the moon showed her displeasure.

“What are ye doing here?” she asked.

“I could ask ye the same thing.”

“Dinna bother. I willna answer ye.” She crossed her arms over her chest, prepared to stare him down.

“All right, your choice then. Whether or not ye tell me makes no matter. I’ve come to collect ye, and I’ll not leave without ye.”

Julianna laughed then. Arrogant arse. Did he really think it would be that easy? “Ye’ll have to catch me first.”

Chapter Eight

R
onan widened his eyes, his gaze focused on the hellion before him.

“What?” he asked, a little dumfounded.

Even as the words left his lips, Julianna was flying. The woman leapt into the air, twisted and kicked him square in the chest.

Pain met with her impact. What in the hell?
He grunted, stumbled backward but managed to keep his balance. Where she’d planted her feet ached something fierce. The woman had some power, he’d give her that. But he’d little time to reflect on it. As soon as she’d landed, Julianna was off. Gripping the saddle, she leapt onto her horse’s back, not even using the stirrup.

The sight was both fascinating and flabbergasting. Had she that much muscle?
Wallace mentioned she had training but… Ronan was stunned.

He could do it, most warriors could, certainly, but a woman? Again, it would appear, he’d underestimated her.

Ronan reached out, as though he’d be able to stop her with such a feeble move. She rounded her beast on him, the horse’s huge head coming close, his teeth bared and chomping as though he would bite him square on the nose.

Having no other choice but to back up or be mauled, Ronan chose to live and took a few healthy steps backward.

“Wait, woman! For Christ’s sake!” he shouted.

Julianna whirled her horse to the side,
the mount’s overlarge teeth no longer gnashing for Ronan’s face. She was breathtaking in her anger and beauty. She glowered down at him, all fire, but then a subtle shift took place on the planes of her face. A smile formed and he felt almost like she’d kicked him in the chest once more.

He’d noticed before, oh how he’d noticed, but this was something different entirely. His every dream in a woman come true. How proudly she sat on that horse. Thighs clenched tight, hands fisted on the reins. The strength emanating from her was mesmerizing. What he wouldn’t give to have all that power clenched and fisted around himself.

Och! Obviously other parts of him wished for the same thing. And quite fervently. Thank the Saints for his cloak, hiding the fact that his cock had grown hard and tented the front of his plaid. Ronan swallowed hard, willing his wayward member to dissipate. Julianna’s sweet sheath would never be wrapped around his cock, his fingers or riding his tongue.

Oh, sweet goddess.

Ronan cleared his throat, hoping that would clear his mind.

“What the hell is wrong with ye?” Julianna asked, her furrowed brow deepening. “Ye look ill. Are ye all right?”

He cleared his throat again. “Aye. I’m all right. Now, get down off that horse.”

She shook her head. “Nay going to happen, lad.”

“Lad?”

A teasing chuckle issued from her most perfectly formed lips. “’Tis how ye’re acting. What else would ye have me call ye?”

Lover? The most stimulating Highlander alive? How many things he would have her call him.

Ronan stopped himself from shaking his head. “I would have ye get off that horse.”

“Well, now,” she said, her small smile transforming into a challenging, triumphant one, “as I said, I willna be getting off this horse, and ye will have to catch me first.”

The last word
spoken, she kicked Brave and the horse lurched forward. Within seconds, she was gone, Ronan left staring at her back, her fiery blonde colored hair breaking free of her hood and catching the wind.

“Ballocks!” he hissed. Two fingers in his mouth, he whistled for his horse who quickly came to his side.

Ronan mounted and wasted no time in giving chase. Lil Lass loping behind. Julianna wouldn’t get away that easily. He wasn’t the type to give up a fight, a challenge and she’d issued one, no doubt about that.

Leaning over this horse’s withers, Ronan gained speed. Where Julianna had once been a black speck ahead, she gained shape. He groaned at the sight of her bottom rising and falling from the horse, other more lascivious thoughts taking root within his imagination.

The woman was making him want to seek out confession, seek out a priest to rid him of the possession she’d done on him, and Ronan wasn’t a religious man.

“Julianna!” he shouted to the wind, he
r name tossed back to hit him square in the jaw. The woman didn’t even turn around to look at him.

Either she’d not heard him, or she was ignoring him. No matter, he’d not let her get away. He shouted to Saint, squeezed his thighs tighter around the horse’s middle and held on as the beast surged forward. Julianna had a
n admirable mount to be sure, but not nearly as well-formed and trained as his own.

Saint was a horse in his own class. The highest class.

“That’s right, now,” he said, a laugh on the end. He was gaining on her, and thoroughly enjoying this game of cat and mouse.

Blood pumped through his veins, surging with a force that left him feeling almost like he was floating. Closer. Closer. He was almost on her.

Julianna did look back then, her plush lips forming an O of surprise.

Ronan grinned at her. A smile that said it all—he was going to win and there was nothing she could do about it. “That’s right,
sweeting,” he mumbled. “Ye’ll be mine.”

The words carried more weight than he’d intended. He’d only meant that he
would win, that he’d gain control of her horse, of her. That she’d not be getting away from him. Had she heard? From her expression of bewilderment, horror, interest, it would appear she had. But the words hung heavy in the air around them, and the moment was quickly broken as she turned to face forward, leaning lower over her horse.

Her animal seemed to
wrench energy from some invisible force and she pulled ahead. Ronan reached out, but too late she was no longer within his grasp.

He wouldn’t lose her that easily. Not by mistakenly saying something that
, unbidden, hit them both harder than he’d expected.

Saint
, catching on that they were in a race, surged forward at a quicker pace, giving Ronan the upper hand once more. He plucked Julianna from her horse, settled her on his lap and slowed his horse to a stop. She smacked at him, jabbed him in the jaw and uttered words he’d never heard even some men say. For the first time, he was touching her. Her arse was taut, but supple as she bounced against his legs. Arms that were sculpted, firm, a back that had muscles he wasn’t aware women could possess. Julianna was pure power in a woman’s body. It was all he could do to not toss up her skirts and fully examine every inch. She continued to fight, ceaseless in her struggle to be free. But for all her bluster, she didn’t actually hurt him. An act he knew to be purposeful since he was fully aware that if she wanted to, she could do some serious damage. Mayhap that meant she wanted to lose.

But Ronan couldn’t think further on that. With two sisters of his own, four if you included his two sisters by marriage, he was not about to contemplate the female mind. He’d long
ago determined they were a force to be reckoned with and a mystery no man would ever uncover.

Her own mount, which noticed the missing weight, slowed ahead and promptly went to munching on grass. Selfish animal. Ronan chuckled.

“I win.” Unable to help himself, Ronan leaned forward to smell her hair. Horses, fresh air. Completely intoxicating.

Julianna slapped him hard on the face.
A stinging slap that had him gripping her tight around the waist as he tried to recover from it, not wanting her to escape.

“That wasn
’t verra nice,” he muttered.

“’Twasn’t mean
t to be, ye boar!”

“What am I going to do with ye?” he asked, shaking his head slight
ly, and grinning. “Shall I bend ye over my knees? Give ye a spank?” He easily flipped her over, even while she kicked, and heaven help him, he slapped her firm little arse.

Glory be, it was the most erotic thing he’d done to date.

“Oh, ye fish-bellied, mottle head!”

“Mottle head?” he asked with a raised brow.

Julianna let out a frustrated groan. “Turn me over.”

Ronan did so with pleasure. He wanted to see her angry face. Loved the way her eyes widened
, mouth opened in shock. She didn’t disappoint.

“What are ye doing? Do ye know what Robert will do when he learns of your treatment of me?”

Ronan shrugged and said, “Thank me?”

“Oh!” she shoved against him again, her long fingers pressing against his chest. Good lord, he liked that.

He liked everything she did, every little touch, even that slap.

Damn, he was getting too ahead of himself. But it was unstoppable. Ever since the day he’d first seen her storming across the bailey. She’d stopped to calmly speak to a few, then he’d seen her rail at another. A force to be reckoned with. ’Twas clear at that moment the woman held clout not only at
Eilean Donan, but within the minds of every man and the few women there. One hell of a baker.

And she’d certainly captivated him.

“Dinna be angry with me,” Ronan said softly. His words appeared to startle her.

She flinched and pulled back. “How can I not be? I left the castle for a reason. Did ye think I just went out for an evening jaunt?”

Ronan shook his head. “Nay, lass.”

“I am n
o lass. Dinna call me that.”

But she was a lass. And he wanted to scoop her up and hold her close. There he went again, unable to stop his thoughts from turning to touching her, holding her, protecting her. Somehow she’d wiggled her way inside him and he couldn’t get her out. Wanted more.

“Lady Julianna, if ye would but tell me why ye’ve gone out into the wilds of Scotland unprotected, I may be able to help ye.”

“I am protected.”

“Before I came along.”

She laughed then, a scathing laugh that made his belly twist. “Ye dolt, I can protect myself.”

That stung a little. “But even more so with me here.” He offered a smile, hoping to calm her. He liked when she was angry, but not when she was disparaging.

“I suppose ye’re right. But if I were to tell ye why I’ve left, ye’d only take me back. That is why ye were sent after me, no?”

Ronan didn’t want to lie. “Aye. The Bruce and Wallace both wanted me to come collect ye.”

“And they sent ye alone?”

“Nay, I’ve got the hound as well.” Lil Lass had followed well behind him as he chased Julianna and he admitted to being worried she wouldn’t.

“A hound and a warrior to catch me. I can see they thought I’d get far,” she said, the sarcasm in her voice overwhelming.

Ronan laughed. “Dinna think so, my lady. In fact, I’d planned on taking more, but Wallace made it clear to me why such would have only drawn attention.”

“How so?”

“Ross wants ye, lass. If a search party had been sent out, every scout he’s got within these trees would know it.”

Julianna nodded. “Did ye happen to see who camped at his abandoned site?”

Nodding, he said, “A band of heathens.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “Did ye know I’d gone down the ravine?”

Ronan’s grin widened. “Aye. I hid in the forest and watched ye climb from the tree.”

“Ye knew I was in the tree?”

“I confess, I did. Ye made a noise.”

“A noise?”

“Aye. Mayhap your shoe scraped on the limb ye perched on.”

Julianna scrunched up her nose and pursed her lips. “This little jaunt of mine has proven I need more practice.”

“No way in hell,” Ronan said before thinking.

Julianna’s grunt of disgust was wholly expected.
“Ye dinna own me, warrior. No man owns me and no man ever will.”

Ronan didn’t know if it was the vehement passion in her tone or the desire that
kindled in her eyes. Whatever it was, it reached out and grabbed hold of him, propelling him forward. He slipped his hand behind her neck, threading his fingers into her soft hair, and tugged her forward as his face descended. When his lips touched hers, it felt like a fire ignited between them, consuming him. Julianna pulled back, mumbling against his lips but he wouldn’t let her stop this kiss.