Part 7 (1/2)

Lochlan was taken aback by the tenderness in her voice. More used to venom than honey from people, he wasn't sure how to respond. ”Thank you.”

”You're quite welcome.”

They continued on in silence as Lochlan kept an ear attuned for any sound or sign of the guards'

return. But as they made their way through the forest, it appeared they'd managed to evade the guards.

Cat listened intently for any telltale sign of the guards' return, too, but after a little while the stress, rhythm of the horse's gait, and the warmth of Lochlan's body lulled her to sleepiness. She found herself melting into his body.

Goodness, the man smelled so good. The scent of his skin was pleasant and masculine. It made her want to rub herself against him, but she could never do something like that. Still, the desire burned through her even as her eyelids were becoming heavier and heavier.

She tried her best to stay awake, but it had been a long day, and she'd been running, literally, since she first snuck out of bed. Now that she felt safe, her exhaustion was taking over.

Lochlan frowned as he felt Catarina falling asleep. Her body relaxed so suddenly that it was all he could do to maintain his hold on her. He stopped the horse long enough to s.h.i.+ft her weight in his arms before he renewed his course.

He held her carefully, amazed that she'd trusted him enough to sleep. There was something about her that was very hard-edged. It was obvious that she'd been around as many false friends as he had. People who only wanted to be close to him because they wanted something from him, either power or coin. Or they just wanted to brag that they knew the laird.

His father had warned him of such people, but as a young man he'd a.s.sumed his father was jaded and bitter. The fact that his father had known the truth of it burned inside him. He'd learned his lessons the hard way and he wondered who had hurt Catarina in that manner.

But unlike him, she was still open. She didn't s.h.i.+eld herself from the world. She kept herself out there, exposed, as if she'd rather have the pain than not. He couldn't even begin to understand that. He'd had enough pain dealt to him against his will, the last thing he wanted was to invite anymore into his house.

You can't help people, boy. They're all users. They take what they want with no regard for you.

Give me a coin, they'll beg and the moment you do, they slide a blade between your ribs to take the rest from you. Trust me. People are the fleas infecting and sullying the fur of G.o.d's creation.

He'd never wanted to believe that, but there were times when he feared his father was more right than wrong. And as he held Catarina, he wondered what she'd do to betray him.

He flinched as he saw an image of Maire's face in his mind. She'd been so beautiful and unspoiled. To touch even her hand had been like touching divinity.

And she'd ripped his heart out and spat on it. Just as his father had predicted, she'd cast him aside for a bigger catch. Just as Isobail had done with his brothers.

Catarina needed him to help her. But if ever given the chance, he had no doubt she'd throw him to the wolves and laugh as she did so. It wouldn't even be her fault. It was just the nature of humanity. One didn't nurse a viper at the bosom unless one expected it to bite.

His best course of action was to get her to her family and be done with her. The sooner she was away from him, the sooner he could return to his own business.

And yet as he stared down at her serene face and remembered the taste of her lips, he wondered what it would be like to have a woman like this by his side. His brothers had all been fortunate enough to find women worth dying for. Women who'd proven themselves loyal and loving.

But he would never be so fortunate. There was no use in dreaming of anything better. He was laird and his life was to serve his people. That would be enough for him.

Even so, it was hard not to imagine a woman like Catarina holding him close. She would be a fierce mother. Unlike his own, she wouldn't cower before her husband, then take out her abuse on a child. Catarina would fight tooth and nail to protect her own and most likely anyone else who was weak. He admired that.

Not to mention she was beautiful. Not in a cla.s.sic sense, but in a very exotic way. Her dark hair and eyes reminded him of a devilish feline. Her skin was tanned and dark, unlike the guarded complexions of most ladies. He could just imagine her running barefoot through a meadow, laughing as she did so.

Lochlan paused in his consideration as he heard a sharp noise to his right. Reining the horse, he listened carefully.

Had the guards found them?

Just as he was certain he'd imagined the sound, something went whizzing past his face. The arrow embedded in a tree to his left. Lochlan reached for his sword.

”Careful, my friend. Pull that out and it'll be the last mistake of your life.”

Chapter 5.

Lochlan debated long enough for them to let fly another arrow.

”This isn't a game. Back your hand from your hilt, or the next shot will be through your head.”

Clenching his teeth in anger that they'd gotten the drop on him, Lochlan did as ordered even though it galled him to the core of his soul. If he were alone, he might be able to fight them. But with Catarina asleep in his arms, he didn't have any choice except to comply.

A tall, gawky youth around the age of ten and five came forward to jerk his sword from its sheath. As he did so, his light gray eyes fell to Catarina's sleeping form and he gasped audibly before stepping back. ”Bracken...there's something here you'll wish to see.”

”I've seen plenty of swords in my time, boy.”

”Aye, but 'tis not the sword you'll recognize. He holds Princess Catarina.”

How did the boy know that? Lochlan scowled at the words as a man near his own age came out from behind a tree. With long black hair and eyes so light they appeared translucent, he held a longbow with a nocked arrow. Lean, but still well muscled, there was no doubt this man would be quick and lethal in a fight. Even so, Lochlan knew he could take him.

The man approached cautiously until he was able to peer over Lochlan's arm to see Catarina.

The instant he could see her face, he aimed the arrow toward Lochlan's head again. ”What are you doing with her?”

”That would be none of your business.”

The man's eyes narrowed dangerously. ”Cat!” he shouted in a tone that sent several birds into flight. ”Wake yourself.”

She jerked awake so fast, her head b.u.mped into Lochlan's jaw. He cursed in response to the sharp pain as she rubbed her temple.

Her gaze was irritable and accusatory. ”Why did you yell at me?”

”It wasn't me.” He indicated the two men below with a jerk of his chin. ”They're the ones who disturbed your slumber.”

She frowned until her gaze focused on the man's face, then she looked incredulous. ”Bracken of Ravengla.s.s?”

His features softened instantly. ”Aye, love. Now tell me if I needs shoot this man or not.”

Her frown returned. ”Shoot who?”

”The one holding you.”

She laughed. ”Lochlan? He's not holding me...” She hesitated as she glanced down to see Lochlan's arms around her. ”I mean, aye, he's holding me, but not as you mean. He's a friend.”

Lochlan wasn't sure if she realized the fact that as she said those words, she ran her hand affectionately up his arm, over his biceps. His entire body ignited and by the scowl on Bracken's face, it was obvious he noted her action as well and didn't care for it in the least.

Bracken lowered his arrow, then gave a low whistle. As he did so, another youth came forward.

At first it appeared to be another male, but as the form drew closer, Lochlan realized it was a very slender woman dressed in a brown leather jerkin and breeches. Like the other two, she had black hair that was braided down her back and pale blue eyes like Bracken.