A Warrior's Promise (17 page)

“I've already been disappointed by your hostile hospitality,” Bryce said. “The Clan Comyn has always been known for its fighting spirit and immense courage, but to pound on an innocent young lad”—Bryce shook his head—“it does not bode well for your clan.”

Ewan was glaring at her, hadn't take his eyes off her, and when they spread wide, she feared he had recognized her.

“I've seen you before,” Ewan said, pointing a finger at her.

“Where?” she challenged, hoping that confronting him would make him realize what he would have to admit . . . that he and his brother were bested by a lassie. And that she was that lassie. It sounded foolish to her mind. She couldn't imagine how it would sound coming from his mouth. She grinned at the thought, though soon winced from the pain in her jaw.

He must have realized the same, and her grimace must have pleased him, for he smiled, shaking his head.

“Enough nonsense,” Bryce said, stepping to block her from Ewan's view. “I want that bedchamber now.”

Toag waved a servant over and issued orders, saying last, “Make sure you bring plenty of food for the lad. He needs some meat on him.”

“And a good-sized bone for the dog,” Charlotte said.

Toag scowled but nonetheless nodded at the servant.

Charlotte spoke softly to Odin, who looked to have regained his wits. And she was relieved when he followed her and Bryce out of the hall. She worried that the stairs might be too much for Odin, but it was she who found the stairs too difficult. Her body ached with each step she took, and with each step she wished she could fall back into Bryce's arms. He would not object; he would hold her close, offer comfort, keep her safe and carry her the rest of the way.

She almost collapsed from sheer relief when they entered the sizeable bedchamber. Odin immediately walked over to curl himself in front of the hearth. She followed him, checking again to make certain he was all right. He licked her face furiously, letting her know he was fine.

It wasn't until the servant girl closed the door after promising to return quickly that Bryce did what she had been aching for him to do.

He swept her up into his arms.

Chapter 19

B
ryce held her close, his heart beating wildly with relief. He needed this, needed to hold her tightly to him, needed to have her safe in his arms. His eyes had caught hers when she had rushed into the hall, and the desperation and fear in them ran his blood cold. But it had been her screaming his name as she launched herself at Ewan that had sent him over the edge.

He had run like never before, fearful Ewan would hurt her before he could reach her. He was never so relieved when his hands had finally settled around her waist, and he had pulled her off the large man. No sooner had he directed her to see to Odin than he had turned on Ewan, landing a severe blow that no man could withstand. His rage knew no reason, and he had wanted to mercilessly pummel him, but his need to see to Charlotte and the animal she so courageously fought to protect far outweighed the desire for revenge—at that moment.

Seeing her battered and bruised had hurt him more than if he had taken the beating himself. And that he hadn't been able to reach out and take her in his arms had infuriated him. All he had been able to do was take stock of her, and, when his eyes had taken her in from head to toe, his anger had almost exploded into an uncontrollable rage.

Blood had spilled from the corner of her mouth, and her nose and the right side of her jaw had turned a deeper purple than it already had been. He could tell by the way she had stood that she was in pain, and he had wanted nothing more than to comfort her though he had wanted to kill Ewan.

It had taken all his strength to treat her simply as he would have a lad under his protection.

He pressed his cheek next to hers and whispered in her ear, “You are safe now.”

“The moment I saw you, I knew I need fear no longer.”

That she had feared for her safety and he had not been there from the start to save her fueled his anger, which wasn't even close to subsiding.

“I should never have let you go off on your own.”

She pressed her hand to his cheek and met his eyes. “You could not have stopped me. Besides, look what I discovered about Ewan.”

“By almost losing your life.”

“He is a bit witless, and a fool, but I doubt he would have killed me. Though I did fear for the lad he had intended to beat.”

“You suffered for defending another?” Bryce asked incredulously, though it shouldn't have surprised him. After all, she had attacked Ewan for hurting Odin. And she had protected her da for so long that it had become sheer instinct to protect those she cared for or those in need.

“He was a skinny bit of a thing,” she said. “I worried that he would not survive a beating.”

He shook his head. Had she not taken stock of her own size? “And you're not a wee bit of a thing who could just as well not survive?” He gave another shake of his head. Of course she didn't think that way, and her response proved it.

“You are only as big and brave as your actions or as cowardly in size as your inactions.” Her fingers over his mouth prevented any response. “I may have suffered a few bruises, but I had you to run to. You who I knew without a doubt would help me. The skinny lad had no one, and I could not, nor would I, see him suffer.”

They heard voices approach the room, and Bryce hurried to place her on the bed.

“Say nothing,” Bryce instructed sternly.

He had all intentions of seeing to her care himself as soon as the servants finished bringing all that he had requested. He could not take the chance of anyone's discovering Charlotte's ruse. There would be no telling the consequences here and elsewhere. And truthfully, he wanted no other touching her. He and he alone would see to her needs.

He saw her eyes round when the large washtub was brought in and began being filled. He was aware of her thoughts, for they mirrored his own. How did they ignore the attraction between them? How did he stop himself from wanting to make love to her?

Love.

Was it creeping up on him, winding its way around him and taking hold without his having noticed? He cast a quick glance over himself, almost believing he would see a vine of some kind having taken root and winding its way around him until it completely engulfed him.

He couldn't allow that to happen. He couldn't plant roots, not yet. He needed to remain free, and the thought disturbed him. He had given his life for the true king; his duty was to him whether he liked it or not.

Bryce finally closed the door on the last servant and latched the door.

His hands itched to undress her but ached to caress her, and it would be a battle of his own will to keep him from doing anything but tending to her wounds and seeing that she rested and slept well for the night.

He approached her slowly. He smiled and cringed at the same time when she jumped up off the bed, wincing and holding her hand out in front of her, as if warding him off. He cringed in empathy at her wince, and his smile was the humor he found in her thinking her small hand could stop him.

“I can see to myself. You can go join the revelry in the hall.”

He saw lurking in her dark eyes what he knew she must see in his—growing desire. He tried to reassure her and himself. “We will tend your wounds, and you will rest.”

“Are you sure?”

Her blunt query stopped him.

“We have shared a few kisses and only a handful of touches, and while I have never lain with a man or desired any particular man, instinct tells me that what I feel, the tingles that run through me, the churning low in my belly when you kiss and touch me is pure passion. And I have no doubt you feel the same, for it shines as heatedly in your eyes as I'm sure it does in mine.”

Though her direct honesty should not have startled him, it did. But then it was more what she admitted that startled. She was letting him know just how much his kisses and touches affected her. She left herself vulnerable to him, and that grew his passion even more.

He could not stop it; his desire soared. And as much as he wanted to walk over to her, take hold of her, and make love to her throughout the night, he could not. Her well-being came first. She needed her wounds cleansed and tended, and no doubt her body was aching from the pummeling she took. She needed rest if they were to leave early on the morn. And he intended that they do just that—leave at dawn. He had had enough of the Clan Comyn.

“I won't deny that I want you, but now is not the time or place—”

“Will there ever be?” she asked softly.

He took a step closer. “Do you want there to be?”

She nodded. “Very much.”

Damn I am in trouble.

“I know you can promise me nothing, and I cannot promise or commit myself, so we seem to fit well for the moment. And if the moment is all we have, I will take it.”

A spark of anger surfaced that she would think that they could be so intimate, then simply walk away from each other. But hadn't he done it before? Met a woman, enjoyed her, and walked away?

The thought of Charlotte walking away from him once they had made love fueled that spark and set his anger to boiling. It took him a moment to calm himself, too afraid he'd speak with anger. She had meant no harm in her words; she simply voiced the truth of their situation. And yet it disturbed him and angered him terribly.

He wanted more than just coupling with Charlotte, but the truth was he didn't know if he could give her more.

“Are you sure? You may regret it.” He wondered if he would be the one with regrets rather than she. Did he truly think he would not want more after making love to her?

“The memories will outweigh any regrets.”

Memories.

She already haunted his mind day and night. Whatever would it be like after they'd made love?

Bryce made a choice there and then. “We will be intimate, but not here, not this night. It is not fitting.”

She laughed softly between winces. “And I am too full of aches to participate.”

He walked over to her, his hand going to rest at the back of her neck. “I could bring you much pleasure without you doing a thing.”

He gently kissed where her mouth was not bloody, and he felt her shudder. He thought she would melt against him, but, instead, she stepped away.

“I cannot do this.”

Bryce looked perplexed, not sure what she referred to, and he reached out to her.

She stepped away again. “I know not why I desire you so badly; I only know that I do. You cannot tend my wounds or remain while I bathe, for I cannot be responsible for my actions if you do.”

She never failed to stun him silent. Just when he thought she could say no more to surprise him, she did. Knowing that she desired him sent his own passion soaring beyond reason, and he knew she was right. He could not stay there.

“I have something I must see to,” he said. “Bathe and be quick about it, for I shall return shortly and will want to see to your wounds.”

“My wounds are nothing. I can see to them myself.”

He grabbed hold of her before she could avoid his grasp. When she winced, he silently scolded his own foolishness and loosened his grip though he would not let her go. He worried if he did that, it would be too difficult, if not impossible, to grab hold of her again.

“You would let me tend you if necessary, would you not?” he asked.

“If ever there came a time that it was necessary for you to tend me, I would welcome it,” she said with a smile and a wince.

“I must not make you smile, at least until you heal.”

“That is not possible. You make me smile more than I ever have in my life.”

His arm went around her waist, and he lifted her to rest against him, her feet dangling just above the ground. He rested his forehead on hers. “You stir me like no other.”

“And you have awakened passion in me.”

He kissed her gently, so as not to disturb her wound. “Let it slumber, for you will rest in my arms tonight.”

“That could prove dangerous.”

“You forget I am an honorable warrior,” Bryce reminded.

“Even honorable warriors can fall prey to temptation.”

He faintly brushed his lips across hers. “You challenge me?”

“I hope so,” she whispered against his lips.

He let her go then; he had to. If he didn't, he might never let her go. He walked out of the room without looking back, though he said, “Be done before my return, or I will not only see to your wounds, but to bathing you.”

Once Bryce shut the door, he leaned against the far wall and took a deep breath that pained his chest. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to walk out of that room. Even with her wounds, he wanted, needed, ached to make love to her. It was much better that he kept his distance, at least until the time proved right.

When and where that would be, he didn't know, didn't want to know. It would happen. He would make love to her, and what would follow he didn't know. At this moment, he didn't want to know.

He marched down the hall, his knuckles cracking from how hard he fisted his hands. He had not finished with Ewan, and he intended to see that he did.

Toag jumped off the bench and greeted Bryce with a hearty slap on the back. “The lad does well?”

“He needs tending, but first I wish to speak to Ewan.”

“He can be a fool when mead takes hold of him. I ordered him to retire for the night.”

“He did not detour to the stable?” Bryce asked.

“Why would he?”

“His pride has been wounded, and he would seek retribution as best he could,” Bryce said.

When Toag did nothing but glare at him, Bryce turned and marched out of the hall.

The rain soaked him as he made his way to the stables. Even over the pounding rain, Bryce could hear the pleading cries of someone in pain. He hurried in and rushed Ewan before he could pound the skinny lad again.

“You don't learn, do you?” Bryce said, tossing him to the ground.

Ewan rolled to his feet and spat blood from his mouth before saying, “Plan on teaching me?”

“I doubt you'd be an apt pupil.”

Ewan wiped his arm across his mouth, blood staining his shirtsleeve. “I think I need to teach you.”

Bryce waved him on with both hands. “Come on. I'm right here waiting.”

Ewan charged him head down, and the young lads cheered on the fighting warriors.