Defying Destiny (7 page)

people.”

Maralee’s

brow

knotted

with

confusion. They made it sound like she

was some bloodthirsty lunatic. What

danger could she possibly pose to these

people? If anything, she might protect them

from the Wolves, which seemed to be

particularly abundant in the area. Maybe

the woman thought she would attract the

beasts to their village.

“You said you would leave this up to

me, Mother,” Nash said.

“I didn’t expect you to do something

so foolish.”

There was a long pause and then

Maralee heard footsteps cross the floor.

“Here,” Nash said. “Her sword. I took

it from her. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Maralee’s hand went to her hip. Her

father’s sword, which had remained

beside her since she’d killed her first

Wolf, was gone. That
bastard
had stolen

it from her. Maralee burst from the

bedroom and into the hallway, racing

forward until she stood just inside the

living area. She panted as she looked from

Nash, holding her beloved sword, to the

woman standing near the open front door.

His mother gave off an aura of strength

and

dignity

Maralee

found

rather

intimidating. The lovely, gray-haired

woman, with an inexplicably young face,

assessed Maralee with shrewd, golden

eyes, before holding her hand out towards

her son. He placed the sword in her hand

and she turned to go.

“That is my sword,” Maralee said,

getting over her initial apprehension and

rushing into the room.

Nash moved faster than any man had a

right to. Maralee collided with his body

before she could draw to a halt. He

grabbed her by the arms and looked down

at her, locking her silver-eyed gaze with

his golden one. She paused, unable to look

away, protest, or even move. She heard

the door close. The woman’s footsteps

crossed the porch and continued down the

steps.

Maralee stood there, locked in his

gaze for long, long moments, and then he

blinked. She came to her senses at once.

She jerked out of Nash’s grasp and dashed

to the front door, tearing it open and

rushing out onto the porch. There were no

signs of his mother anywhere in the forest

or amongst the cabins of the settlement. A

few of the children, who were chasing

each other amongst the trees and laughing,

stopped to gape at her.

“Where did she go?” she asked one of

them—a boy with fluffy, light brown hair

who she estimated to be around seven.

His golden eyes widened and he

whimpered before running off to hide in

the cover of the trees. The other children

scattered and Maralee watched them hide

with confusion. She hadn’t been that harsh

in her tone, had she? She didn’t spend

much time with children, but she had

never known any to fear her.

“Come inside, Maralee,” Nash said.

He stepped behind her and placed a hand

on each of her arms.

“Why are they afraid?” And why did

she have the sudden urge to cry?

“They just need some time to get used

to you,” Nash said. “Come inside. It’s

cold out here.”

Maralee allowed him to guide her into

the house. Absently, she sat on the sofa.

She was so confused. The only thing that

seemed clear to her was Nash had taken

her sword and given it to his mother.

“How could you?” she said, startling

the man who was gazing at her with

concern. “You stole my sword and then

you gave it to your mother.
My
sword. It

was not yours to give.”

“Maralee…” he said consolingly.

“Don’t ‘Maralee’ me! That sword is

my most prized possession. It was my

father’s dying wish that I take his sword

and use it to save precious human lives.”

“Mara—”

She stood up, angrier than she had

ever been in her life. She wasn’t going to

let him intimidate her anymore. She

jabbed him in the chest with her finger as

she shouted at him. “I don’t know who you

think you are. You can’t just threaten me,

take my things, and command me to do

what you say. What gives you the right?

Were you preordained by God or some

—”

Nash pulled her against him and

silenced her by covering her mouth with

his. One of his arms circled her waist to

draw her against him, his other hand dove

into the tangled strands of her hair to tilt

her head back so he could feast on her

mouth unrestrained.

It didn’t occur to Maralee to resist his

unwarranted kiss. Her hands were trapped

between them, resting against his bare

chest, but she didn’t push him away.

Instead, she clung to his skin with curled

fingertips. She was a slave to the

sensations that started where their lips met

and throbbed throughout her entire body.

He lifted his head and she made a sound

of protest, her eyes opening long enough to

catch sight of his crooked grin before he

kissed her again.

Her breath came out in a gasp when

his teeth nipped her lower lip. His tongue

soothed the tender flesh and she

shuddered, leaning against him for

support. She’d never been kissed like this.

The few kisses she’d experienced in her

past had been awkward. Chaste even.

This? This was… delicious. Made her

throb between her legs in a most

distracting fashion. Her lips parted as she

let out a lingering moan and his tongue

brushed hers.

There was a quiet knock on the front

door. “Uncle Nash,” came Carsha’s timid

voice from outside.

Nash tore his mouth away from

Maralee’s, and locked her in a solid

embrace. He rubbed his lips against her

temple, emitting a repetitive low growling

sound that made the tips of her breasts

tighten unexpectedly.

“Uncle Nash,” Carsha persisted. “You

promised.”

“I did,” he breathed. He drew away

from Maralee, who sought a seat on the

sofa for fear her wobbly knees would not

support her body weight.

Nash opened the door and Carsha

smiled up at him with a devotion only

attainable by the very young. “Time to

play, Uncle Nash.”

He smiled down at her, his affection

obvious. “Let me get my boots and a

sweater.”

Carsha’s looked behind him to

Maralee, who was sitting on the sofa

trying to gather her wits. The child’s smile

faltered. “Oh,
she’s
still here.”

“We can still have fun,” Nash

promised. “Come in. I’ll just be a minute.”

Carsha edged into the house and Nash

closed the door before turning to go to his

room. He caught Maralee’s eye as he

passed her and she noticed his attention

drawn to her mouth. His tongue slid from

between his lips to caress the corner of

his mouth. Her heart thudded. Could their

kiss have affected him as much as it

affected her? It had been her first kiss real

ever. That impulsive good-bye kiss she’d

planted on the stable boy, William, when

she’d left home at sixteen did not compare

to the sensual things Nash had done to her

mouth. She couldn’t imagine anything

being more passionate or pleasurable. Not

only were her lips tingling, but her entire

body was throbbing. She was strangely

aware of the secret places of her body.

Once Nash left the room, her attention

shifted to Carsha, who was assessing her.

“I’m not afraid of you,” the small girl

said, though her golden eyes were as wide

as saucers.

Maralee smiled reassuringly. “I’m

glad. There’s no reason for you to fear

me.”

“Sword.”

“I don’t have it right now.” Maralee

pointed to her empty belt.
Your uncle took

it
, she thought and her ire rose again. Had

he kissed her as a diversion?
Jerk!
She

would get her sword back before she left

for Sarbough. She wouldn’t hear any of

his excuses or allow him to distract her

again. She didn’t care if he kissed her for

hours. She sucked her lips into her mouth

to remove the lingering feel of his kiss

from them.

Carsha looked relieved. “Mama told

me to stay away from you. You might kill

me with your sword.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “I’d never

hurt a person with my sword. That would

be horrible.”

Carsha didn’t look convinced, but she

looked less frightened.

Nash reentered the room, tugging a

sweater on over his head. Maralee’s eyes

fixated on the chiseled muscles of his

abdomen. All too soon his sweater

covered that beguiling flesh and she

squelched a pout of disappoint.

“Put your boots on, Maralee. You’re

coming out to play, too,” he said.

She started, dragging her eyes up to

his. “Me?”

Nash smiled at her and, as if her heart

was connected directly to his smiling lips,

it began to pound furiously within her

chest.

“I would guess you don’t have fun

very often.”

Maralee frowned, trying to think of the

last time she’d had fun. She came up

entirely lacking. “No, I guess I don’t. I

need to get back to Sarbough.”

“It’s getting late.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll walk you back later, I promise.

But right now, I think Carsha could use a

little cheering up.”

Maralee’s gaze darted to the child

who had just lost her father. She couldn’t

very well deny the poor girl a moment of

reprieve from the sorrow she must be

feeling.

Maralee put on her boots and followed

Carsha and Nash out into the forest

surrounding the cabin.

“Go gather your friends and bring your

brothers as well,” Nash said to Carsha.

Carsha gave Nash a testing look.

“What if I say I won’t?” She planted both

tiny fists on her hips.

Nash seized her around the waist and

declared, “Then I’ll throw you away.”

He tossed the little girl high up into the

air and Maralee gasped, covering her

mouth with her hand. Nash caught the

child easily and Carsha giggled as he

hugged her against him.

“I won’t do you what you say!” she

shrieked between peals of laughter.

“Then I’ll feed you to the boars.” He

lifted her and made loud snorting noises

against her neck. Carsha squealed in

delight and squirmed. Maralee smiled at

the child’s obvious glee.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll do it!” Carsha

promised.

Nash set the girl on her feet, smiling as

broadly as she was, and Carsha dashed off

to find her friends and brothers.

“You’re really good with kids, aren’t

you?” Maralee asked. She wished she

could find easy affection with someone—

anyone. Her childhood had been utterly

lonely. Her hours had been spent training

to make her deceased family proud. To

carry out their legacy. She didn’t regret

any of it. But she’d been so alone. Her

aunt, by marriage, had moved into the

estate house and taken care of things for

Maralee until she had left at the age of

sixteen, but Aunt Bailey had never shown

her any affection. Affection made a Hunter

weak. At least, that’s what Aunt Bailey

had told her.

Nash smiled at Maralee. “My people

share in the responsibility of raising the

children. Even though I don’t have any of

my own, I am expected to care for the

children of others. I enjoy it. Their parents

teach them to hunt and survive. I only have

to play with them and keep them from

harm.”

Maralee sat down on the porch step

and Nash took a seat beside her. “It’s

peaceful here,” she murmured. As she

glanced around, she noticed there were

many more structures than she had first

realized. It seemed they were at the very

edge of a large settlement.

“Usually,” he agreed.