Dragon Knight's Sword (14 page)

Raking a hand through his hair, he knelt down slowly and reached out with a trembling hand for the pouch.

Brigid thought she heard him moan and hesitated before she stepped closer. She could now see he was shaking, and it took all of her control not to give him comfort. She could swear Duncan was crying and speaking softly in what she knew to be Gaelic.

She continued to stand a few feet away when he spoke in a harsh, raw voice, “I thank ye for bringing me my sword.” And with the swiftness of a warrior, he was in front of her, just mere inches from her face and a dirk at her throat.

“I will not ask again.
Where
are your clansmen?” his tone ominous.

She was stunned. Here she was feeling sorry for the crying Scotsman, the next, she wanted to take a rock and bash it over his head.

Infuriating man
.

“I will tell you everything if you remove the piece of metal from my throat,” hearing the bitterness spill over in her voice. She saw a flicker of something move within his eyes, and his breathing labored.

Slowly, Duncan removed his dirk from her skin, but chose not to release her, yet. He liked the feel of her and she smelled of wildflowers. The beast roared inside of him, beckoning him to move his hands down and cup her breasts. With control he thought he did not possess, he dropped his hold of her, stepping back. Placing his dirk back in its sheath, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

“First, don’t you
ever
put a knife to my throat again. Second...”

“It is a dirk.”

“Yes, I know...whatever.” She threw up her hands. “Second, I don’t have
any
clansmen with me!”

“Third...owww.”

“Whist, lass,” hissed Duncan in her ear, grabbing her firmly around the waist and yanking her toward the ground behind the boulder. He held her firm against his chest, and again it took all of his control to fight the temptation his body was craving. He could feel the roundness of her breasts against his arm and a shiver went through him. What was wrong with him? No lass had ever had this pull on him. What he needed was to bed her quick, and then he could focus. He would keep the lass with him until he found out the truth.

Aye, he would have his answers and perhaps a wee bit more.

Forcing the lustful beast back inside his cage, he looked outwards. “Bloody MacFhearguis!” he snarled.

Brigid swallowed. “Did you just say
MacFhearguis
?”

“Do not fear, lass, they are passing through, though why they are here is a question I would sorely like to ask.”

“Sure, what’s to fear?”
Except this gorgeous Highlander holding me.

Scanning the area where the riders had been, they waited a few more moments before Duncan finally released his hold on her and slowly stood up. She watched as he walked over to the sword, hesitating briefly before picking it up. Turning, he walked back and extended his hand out to her. “Come, lass, I will keep ye safe.”

Brigid had no other choice but to follow this man. She would not show her fear of him,
or
her burning desire to have sex with him. Her faery tale come to life with a knight in tarnished armor. Except this faery tale was a tad scary.

How in the hell was she going to get back to her own time? Did he not hear her earlier?

Until she could figure this out, she would continue to use her fear as a shield and weapon. At least she knew he would protect her. But for how long? For all she knew, he could be a thirteenth century bipolar maniac.

Shaking, Brigid got up from the ground without the aid of his hand. The less contact with this man the better, she thought. He just stood there, devilishly handsome.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

There were touches of humor around his mouth and near his eyes when he spoke. “To see a druid about a dragon.”

Chapter 21

“Do we listen to the Song of Truth when it plays its tune upon our heart strings, or do we silence it within the tomb of ice we call fear?”

The crisp autumn air felt good as Brigid followed Duncan through the trees. For the moment, she welcomed the distance between them. The power of attraction hummed through her veins. However, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head that this man killed his sister.

What the hell happened that night?

She started to laugh and cupped her hand across her mouth. “I think I’m going insane,” she whispered. “Here I am worrying about something, which supposedly took place eight hundred years ago.
Wait!
I’m here in this time, so it just happened. Now he’s talking about druids
and
dragons?” There was the question of the sword too, she realized. It had been passed down through the ages and landed on her doorstep, only to be brought back through time.

Just trying to formulate all the pieces caused Brigid to burst out in hysterical laughter. There was just no way she could stifle it.

Duncan paused, glancing back over his shoulder at her with that arched brow, which made him so sexy and dangerous looking. A gentle breeze caught his hair and a dark lock fell across his eye, creating a more alluring effect.

Shaking her head, she paused waving him on. “I’m fine.”

A muscle clenched along his jaw and he turned, continuing through the dense foliage, muttering something about a daft lass and not right in the mind.

“I heard that! You should be the one to talk, Duncan Mackay.”

Turning around a sharp bend, Brigid came to halt. Standing a few feet in front of her was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. Most of the horses she had ridden were brown or sable, but this one was black as ebony with no traces of any other color. His proud stance spoke majesticly, an animal meant for kings and queens—of the faery realm.

“Hello, there.” Brigid held out her hand, palm up toward the horse. “I’m sorry I don’t have any treats, but may I touch you?”

“Nae! He does not take kindly to strangers.” Duncan stepped in front of his horse, blocking her path.

Brandubh snickered, and Brigid had a feeling it was directed toward Duncan. She sidestepped past Duncan, proceeding to ignore him. Placing her hand gently on Brandubh’s muzzle, she spoke softly to him. He moved his head up and down as she continued to speak in soft words.

Duncan stood glaring at them both.

How dare he—that traitorous beast
! Brandubh was not an easy animal. Many feared the great beast. But nae, the lass had walked right up to him and started to stroke his mane, speaking words as if they were friends.

He watched how she leaned close to his head, while keeping a hand down upon his mane. Just the vision was enough for him to want her hands on
him
! Her backside was so verra tempting, and he wondered why she would choose to wear this type of clothing. Did she not know the affect it would have on men? All her curves so lusciously displayed. He continued to enjoy watching her backside...again.

Swiping a hand through his hair, Duncan took a deep breath as he grasped her up and tossed her across Brandubh. Then swinging himself up and over, he positioned himself behind her.

“Owww! I
do
know how to mount a horse. You could have hurt me, or your horse!”

Duncan snorted. “I can assure ye
Brandubh
was not injured.”

Brigid gave him such a look of scorn that Duncan had to look away, so as not to laugh. What a feisty, fiery lass.

“You’re just angry Brandubh likes me!”

“Humph!” He knew of only way to stop her from this chatter and with his left arm, he wrapped it around her waist and pushed her back against him. Gathering the reins with his right hand, he gave them a quick snap and they were off.

The moment Brigid landed against his back, she went still and silent. Good, he thought, yet the nearness of her was awakening all his senses. Her braid was starting to come loose and strands of curls were tickling his face. He inhaled the sweetness and with every step Brandubh took, her breasts would bounce on his arm, sending tremors straight to his cock.

By the gods, it had been far too long since he had a woman.

Duncan was grateful the journey to the druid would not be a long one. If they moved quickly, they would be there by early morn.

He was still uneasy with the sighting of the MacFhearguis on his land. His uneasiness had more to do with his brothers, especially Angus. He needed to be warned. It had been twelve moons since he had seen his brother. There had been no news of them; however, he never once asked Cormac.

Duncan would rather face a demon than face his brother. Since this mess was his fault, he would do whatever it took, and damn the outcome to his soul.

Chapter 22

“If one trespasses through time and space, who will pay the gatekeeper?”

“Do you think we could stop for a moment?” Brigid asked.

The only response she got was a grunt. Her shoulders slumped, but she wouldn’t be dissuaded. They had ridden endlessly, and the jostling on the horse was not helping her situation. She desperately needed to relieve herself.

What a brute! How could she have stirrings for this man? In addition, why in the blazes did he haunt her dreams? He should have stayed within those blasted imaginings. Now she was smack in the middle of God knows where, with him—in the flesh.

Brigid gave him a sharp elbow when he pulled her more closely against him.

He followed with another grunt.

Did he just laugh at her? The man was an ogre. “If you don’t want me making a mess on you and your horse, I would advise you to stop and let me have some...personal time,” she spat out.

“
Personal time
?” he growled out.

Blasted man. “I have to relieve myself. Now!”

“Aye. Ye could have said so to begin with.”

Dismounting from Brandubh, Duncan leaned up to help her down and was rewarded with a slap across his arm. Grumbling, she attempted to get off on her own and slipped almost falling off. Managing to finally succeed, she let out a curse, not caring if he could hear. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was smirking at her. “What, never heard a woman swear?” she muttered, stomping off into the trees.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he followed the movement of her bum as it disappeared through the thicket of pines, along with her fiery temper.

“She’s a daft one, but a beauty,” he muttered.

Brandubh gave a snicker in response.

“So ye fancy her? Humph! Might I remind ye, she may be the enemy.”

Duncan surveyed their surroundings. He had not planned to tend to a woman’s needs. There was little food and ale and only the brat on him for warmth, which he would have to share.

“Lugh’s balls.” He grimaced.

They would ride as long as they had sunlight, since the thought of him wrapped against her body surged forth the lustful beast. It was going to be a verra long night.

Watching her emerge from the trees, he saw she was still muttering to herself.

Placing her back on his horse, he swung up behind her. “We’ll be riding not much longer and then we will stop for the night.”

She only nodded this time.

Good, he thought. His mood was becoming foul, and he would rather she kept quiet.

****

The first stars were winking down at them as Duncan pressed Brandubh further. He would use as much of the gloaming as possible before they stopped for the night.

The moment the lass had dozed off, she fell back onto his chest. Gathering her more tightly against him, Duncan felt guilty for taking advantage of her lush curves across his arms. Just this once, he let himself enjoy her scent and warmth.

Who was this strange woman who first appeared in his dreams? Did his powers now extend to one of visions? Nae, it could not be. Only his brother, Stephen had the gift. Now his dream was here—in his arms, flesh and blood.

She mumbled something incoherent as she slept. Duncan shook his head. The lass talked far too much when she was awake, and continued in her sleep.

“Daft, indeed,” he drawled.

Duncan proceeded onward for another hour until he found shelter secluded from any worn path. When Brigid awoke, she didn’t say a word as he drew her down off his horse. She followed him through the dense foliage.

Noticing a large oak near its end in life, Duncan dropped his provisions against it. Large and partially hollowed out at the base, it would provide protection from the brisk night air. The other trees would help in keeping the winds at bay, as well.

Taking out an apple for Brandubh, he settled him nearby. “Rest well, my friend.”

Stepping back toward the oak, he undid his plaid, placing it on the ground. Then he retrieved the leather-skin. “We will rest here for the night.” He took a sip of what little he had left of the ale.

“We...we’re sleeping here?”

“Aye.”

Hugging her arms around herself, she tried to keep the panic out of her voice. “And where might I ask, am I to sleep?”

Duncan smacked his hand down on the ground next to him. “Right here, lass.”

“
With you
?” she squeaked. She didn’t want to be so close to him. It was torture being in his arms on the horse, and feeling his every movement, but here—
on the ground
? Snug as a bug in a rug?

“No!”

Duncan let out a loud sigh, followed by a silent curse. “I ken ye are not happy with the prospect, but nor am I.”

Rising slowly, he stepped forward. “I give ye my word I will not have my way with ye. It will get mighty cold, and I only have one brat. It would be best if we shared.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before.”

Duncan just shrugged, keeping his focus elsewhere.

She snorted. “Can’t you just build a fire?”

He cocked his head at her, giving her a queer look. “Take a look around ye. Does it look like we can have a fire? Even if we could, I would not take the risk of alerting any others.

Her shoulders slumped. “Do you at least have some food and drink?”

A small smile curved his features. “Just a wee bit, but enough.”

Darkness enveloped them, except for the sliver of the crescent. The ale Brigid drank took some of the chill off, but the food was another issue altogether. Some dried piece of meat, too tough to chew on, and a chunk of stale bread was their meal. He wasn’t lying when he said he only had a
wee bit
. In the end, she had given up on the meat.