Forever Her Champion (11 page)

“Ye kept me safe this night. Ye protected me at the risk of yer own peril,” she reminded him.

He closed his eyes, fighting an inner battle betwixt his heart and his desires.

“Do ye ken that I could have married long ago? I had offers,” she told him. “And not all of them were by drunken sots. Some of them were quite nice, quite handsome. But none of those men were
ye.
For years now, not only was I searchin’ for my father, I was searchin’ for ye. I did nae realize it until yesterday. I refused all those men because they were nothin’ like ye, Aiden. ’Tis ye I want and no one else.”

His heart wanted very much to believe she was being sincere, not just with him, but with her own heart. Looking into her verdant, lush eyes, he saw the truth. Aye, she had been terrified tonight, but that was not from where she spoke. She was speaking genuinely from her heart.

A very large part of him wanted to admit the truth, but he was too much a coward. The truth about the last twelve years of his life. Of how he had killed more men than he could count. Of his life as a slave being trained as an assassin. Of the fact that he had never lain with a woman. Only twice in his life had he had the opportunity. Both times he sent the all too eager lass away because he felt underserving of anyone’s affection, whether purchased or voluntary.

Going against his better judgment, he succumbed to the need to feel loved. And not just by anyone, but by Rianna.

* * *

A
lthough he had
no real world experience in loving, he was not entirely ignorant. However, understanding what went where and how was not the same as experience. Thankfully, he had a lifetime of pent-up desire — desire he had learned to push down and out of the way — to at least guide him in the appropriate direction.

Rianna seemed neither to notice nor question his ability and for that, he was eternally thankful. He was certain however, that if she were not an innocent she might have thought his performance less than spectacular.

Afterward, as they lay spent and out of breath, she wore a contented smile. Facing one another under the blankets, he took her hand in his, placing tender kisses on her palm.

“’Twas even better than I imagined it could be,” she told him with a satisfied sigh.

“I would have to agree with ye,” he replied, suddenly parched and wishing for something cold to drink.

“How soon before we can do that again?”

The wee lass had no idea the affect her smile and her question had on his person.

Outside the little hut, the wind picked up, making it’s way through the cracks in the mud and the window. Tickling the fire, the embers flamed and crackled and sprang back to life, much like his loins.

He loved her again, taking his time to explore every part of her body. Her skin was softer than silk and tasted sweeter than honey. He found he adored the way her breath hitched when his fingers caressed her soft skin, and the way she called out his name as if she were offering a prayer up to the gods themselves.

Later, much later, they fell asleep in one another’s arms, fully satisfied and blissfully happy.

* * *

T
he fire
in the brazier had died out and stood cold long before either of them woke. If he had to estimate the time, he would be unable, for the hunters croft was dark, save for a few sunbeams that streamed in through cracks and crevices. He had not truly slept, at least not deep, restful sleep. Part of him worried the men he had killed the night before might have been telling the truth about traveling with others. Though he doubted it, he had done his best to cover his tracks. Who knew who or what lurked beyond the walls of the tiny hut. Too many years spent as an assassin had honed his nerves and instincts to the point that he could hear sounds from great distances.

But he hadn’t heard the men approaching last night until it was almost too late. He’d been so focused on Rianna, so lost in his own thoughts that he wouldn’t have heard a pack of hungry wolves approaching.

Then he had loved her not once, but twice. Time was suspended when he was with her. Nothing else mattered but burying himself and his heart inside her. Joining with her had drowned out everything and for a time, ’twas a sweet respite to his bleak existence.

Unable to quell the strong desire that reared when he felt her sleeping so contentedly in his arms, he loved her once more.

She was more addicting than any drink. He needed her as much as he needed his next breath.

When that realization came to him, long after he had made love to her a third time, he was nearly paralyzed with fear and guilt. As she slept beside him, he looked around the hut. This was no life for the likes of her. He had nothing to offer her but his heart and a sordid past.

There still existed a chance that his former masters had sent someone to either kill him or bring him back into their fold. Of course he would be severely punished for having escaped. ’Twas nae so much an escape as it was a non-return. Sent on another mission to take the life of a Scottish earl in the lowlands, instead of heading south, he went north. He had no idea if the earl still lived or if another assassin had been sent to do what he had not. Either way, the earl did not die at his hands.

For two years, he had roamed the countryside, crossing back and forth over his homeland. Living meagerly, the coin he had been given to live on for his last mission still lasted. Living off the land, never spending his coin on inns or anything else that he deemed extravagant, most of the coins remained hidden, sewn into the seams of his packs, his saddle, and even a few hidden in the soles of his boots.

Still, ’twas not enough to build a life on.

And if his former masters searched for him? He shuddered to think what would happen to Rianna, should he be found.

His heart began a slow disintegration with the awareness of what he must do when she woke.

He was going to have to break her heart in order to save her life.

R
ianna woke
hours later only to find Aiden was not by her side. Reckoning he was out of doors searching for food, she stretched languidly and let out a happy, blissful sigh. Being with him, joining with him, had been more exciting, more thrilling than she could ever have thought possible.

She sat up, pulling the blanket around her nakedness and looked about the room. ’Twas not the wedding night or bed she had imagined, but it was as bewitching as a fairy glen, or so it had seemed last night and again this morn.

Her growling stomach was all the incentive she needed to find her clothes and tend to her morning ablutions. She found her dress in a heap on the other side of the room where Aiden had thrown it. Her slippers lay on opposite sides. She found her chemise in the far corner. The only thing she hadn’t removed was the crimson ring. All the while she hunted for her clothes she could not help but giggle with the fond memories of the night before. More than once, the ring had happily bounced against her chest or hung suspended in air. She did not know there were so many different ways a woman could find pleasure with the man she loved.

Once she was dressed, she slipped out the door and into a copse of trees. When she returned, Aiden was still gone.

She had just finished combing and braiding her hair when the door to the hut scraped open.

His eyes locked on hers as he stood in the doorway. There was something in those eyes that kept her from leaping joyfully into his arms. Something was wrong; she could feel it to her marrow.

“The horse is saddled. I found ye some berries,” he said from the doorway.

No
good morn
. No
how do ye fare.
Nothing that bespoke of the tenderness he’d shown her the night before. Wanting very much not to appear offended or worried, she placed her comb in her pack before standing to face him. “And where are we goin’ this fine summer day?” she asked as politely and happily as she could manage.

She winced when his jaw clenched tightly. She waited while he swallowed hard once, then again. With her hands folded in front of her, she waited for his answer.

“I am takin’ ye to yer father.”

* * *

“
I
told
ye last night that I no longer wish to see my father,” she told him. Though she may have appeared as if she were discussing nothing more important than the weather, her insides were quaking.

He took a step toward her. “Rianna, if ye dunnae at least try to see him, ye will always wonder about him. Mayhap not right away, but later. And ye will blame me for not makin’ ye go.”

“Are ye goin’ with me?” she found the courage to ask.

His crestfallen expression said more than words ever could.

Anger rose from deep in her belly. She refused to shed the tears that burned behind her eyes. “Did last night mean naught to ye?”

“It meant more to me than ye will e’er know.” ’Twas the cold, hard truth of it. No matter where life took him, no matter what it had in store, he would cherish the memories of last night for all the rest of his days. Another cold, hard truth was that he loved her. He did not know how it had happened, but it had. More than he had ever loved anyone in his life. If she ended up hating him, so be it. He’d made the decision to leave her because of it.

“Yer father’s keep is just up the road. Ye’ll be there within an hour.”

* * *

R
ianna did not feel used
or betrayed. Nay, she felt angry and foolish. She had given herself to him willingly, of her own accord. To join with him had been her idea, not his.

’Twas all she could do not to slap him or flail her fists at him and beg him to change his mind. “Ye made a decision that concerned both of us without even discussing it with me,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Trust me when I say ’twas nae a decision made lightly.”

“Pardon me if I do nae believe ye,” she replied bitingly. “Why, pray tell, can ye nae go with me? Why can we nae stay together?” She felt as though her heart were being ripped from her chest and trampled upon by a team of horses.

“Please, do nae ask me to explain,” he began.

She cut him off with a raised palm. “Nay, Aiden, ye dunnae get to hide behind yer past. It has nothin’ to do with us.”

He maintained a calm exterior but it belied what he truly felt inside, where he was slowly dying, one heartbeat at a time.

“For days I have all but begged ye to tell me the truth,” she said. “Ye refused to answer, refused to discuss it. And now, now that I gave ye my heart and body, ye want to hide behind that past like a coward!”

In two short steps he was standing before her. He did not want to tell her the truth because he did not want to see the look of shame staring back at him. But if telling her would get her to see reason, then tell her he would.

“Ye want the truth?” he bit out. “Verra well, lass, then I shall tell ye.”

Startled by his sudden capitulation and the harsh tone of his voice, she took a step back. His blue eyes turned as dark as obsidian, his face contorted as if it pained him to speak.

“But I warn ye, ye will ne’er want to see me again after I tell ye. Not long after ye left
Ardanaiseig,
me father sold me to a group of men, slave traders from the north. He sold me for the price of a few bottles of whisky, Rianna, nothin’ more. Those men took me far from my home, to a land so hot ye’d think ye were in hell. Turks they were called. Dark, dangerous men who do things to wee boys that should ne’er be done to anyone. Beaten, starved, then beaten again. We were taught to fight, and nae the way the Scots teach their young. Nae, ’twas kill or be killed in order to survive. Do ye have any idea what it is like to be twelve years old, and so hungry ye would eat grass were ye able to find any? Do ye ken what it is like to kill one friend after another, and yer only reward is ye get one more meal, one more day to live?”

The more he spoke, the more she knitted her brow, the more frightened she appeared. ’Twas too late now to retreat.

“That was only the beginnin’, ye see.” His voice was growing harsher, his words thick with self-loathing. “They trained me, ye ken, to kill. To be an assassin. To steal into a man’s home and kill him whilst he slept. Or kill him while he was lookin’ at me. They taught many of us in this way. Used us to do their dirty work, to take the lives of men we’d ne’er met, whose crimes we did nae ken, but kill them I did. Too many to count, Rianna. Husbands, fathers, grandfathers. All because they had beat every last bit of Aiden Macgullane from me. They gave me a new name, a new identity. They destroyed every bit of that wee lad ye were so fond of.”

Angrily, he pulled his tunic over his head and turned to give her his back, the back he refused to allow her to touch last night. Long, deep scars criss-crossed one another. They began at his neck and disappeared under his trews. Appalled, not
at
him but
for
him, Rianna wanting nothing more than to reach out and soothe his heart as well as his body, but she was frozen in place.

“That, Rianna, is my past,” he ground out. Pulling his tunic back on, he turned to face her. “That is what I did nae want to share with ye. That is what I was protecting ye from.”

* * *

“
P
rotectin’ me
?” she whispered. If anyone needed protecting ’twas Aiden. Her heart ached for this man and she could not hate him or despise him for things that were beyond his control. The hell he’d endured was beyond her comprehension. “I don’t understand, Aiden. What are ye protectin’ me from?”

Thrusting a hand through his hair, he began to pace in the small confines of the hut. “I am protectin’ ye from
them.”

“Them?
Them who?” she asked, growing more confused and sorrowful as the moments passed.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her, aghast. “Are ye daft? Did ye nae hear a word I said?”

“Aye, I did. But who are ye protectin’ me from? The men who bought you? The men who enslaved ye and treated ye … ” There was no word, no way to describe what they had done to this poor soul.

“Aye, them. The Turks. My masters. They sent me on a mission two years ago, a mission I did nae complete. A mission I ran from the first chance I had. They could be huntin’ me now, either to kill me or to take me back. I will die at my own hand before I go back, Rianna. I swear I will.”

“Then let me help ye,” she said as she went to him, placing her hand on his cheek. “Mayhap my father will grant us sanctuary—”

He stopped her with a shake of his head. “Do ye nae see? If they do come for me, I could not bear to have ye harmed. I could nae live with myself if ye were hurt, or worse yet, taken by them and forced to live as I did. I love ye too much, Rianna. I cannae do it.”

He loved her.

He loved her.

The words were both heaven and hell at once. He would desert her because he loved her. He knew no other way to protect her.

They argued back and forth for nearly half an hour before she finally gave up. Resignation set into her drooping shoulders. No amount of begging or pleading or even sound reasoning could get him to change his mind.

She was left feeling empty and cold inside. Dejected. Rejected.

Silently, she wiped the tears from her face, grabbed the bundle that contained all her worldly possessions and headed out the door. Pausing on the threshold, she turned to face him one last time. “I ken ye believe ye love me, but a person who loves another does nae hurt them this way. I will go to my father’s.” Her voice caught on painful tears. “I wish ye nothin’ but a good life, Aiden Macgullane. I hope that someday ye will win the battle o’er yer demons. Mayhap someday, a woman better and stronger than I will win yer heart.”

She turned then, leaving him alone to ponder what she had said.