The Hawk: A Highland Guard Novel (19 page)

The irony was not lost on her: in captivity, she’d never had so much freedom. From responsibility. From duty and expectation. From thoughts of the future. And she felt guilty for how much she was enjoying it.

If she were honest with herself, she knew it also had something to do with the man seated opposite her.
He
was exciting, and just being around him made her heart beat a little faster. He was like a golden god—not because of his coloring and handsome face, but because of the sheer force of his personality. Like a moth to the flame she was drawn to him, but she knew better than to get too close.

Of course he was a horrible flirt, the kind of man who never took anything seriously, and with that hallmark cocky grin of his too self-confident by half, but at times she wondered whether there was something deeper. That maybe he wasn’t like her feckless father at all, but capable of real emotions.

Last night she thought she’d gotten a glimpse of it, sensing a real connection when they’d spoken of their families. She’d hated lying to him, and for a moment had considered telling him the truth. But then Meg returned, and he lapsed back into the teasing, entertaining rogue who was fun to be around, but someone she could never take seriously.

She could like him, but she knew that didn’t mean she should trust him. He was involved with something, and from what she could discern in the cave, it had something to do with her father. It was simpler this way.

What she didn’t understand was why he’d suddenly elected himself her bodyguard. She recalled that he’d seemed angry with Duncan last night and hoped it wasn’t her fault. She’d grown rather fond of Duncan in the past few days. He reminded her of her brother John, who had recently earned his spurs and could talk about nothing but war and fighting.

Unfortunately—try as she might—she couldn’t find anything about the captain that reminded her of any of her brothers, and having him around wasn’t going to be nearly as easy.

What was he up to?

She eyed him suspiciously. “Suit yourself,” she said with a careless shrug. “I hope you will be comfortable on your rock.”

Of course, he wasn’t going to make it that easy. He leaned back and crossed his arms, their muscles bulging in a blatant display of raw masculine strength. The bottom fell out of her stomach. Good God! She took a sip of the broth, wetting her suddenly dry mouth, but she couldn’t do anything about the fluttering in her belly.

“I have an errand,” he said. “I thought you might wish to join me.”

Alone? With him? She didn’t think so. She didn’t want any part of his mischief. “Not today, I’m afraid,” she said with feigned regret, conscious of Meg’s scrutiny. “I need to watch Thomas while Meg attends to her duties.” Which, as far as Ellie could see, were considerable—from tending her own holding to serving as the island healer and midwife.

“I thought you said Thomas needed to rest?” he pointed out.

“He does,” she conceded.

“The lad will be fine,” Meg interceded. “You two go off and have fun.”

Ellie smiled weakly at the other woman, pretending to be grateful while trying to think of a gracious way to decline.

“It’s a beautiful day,” the captain offered tantalizingly, like holding out a sweet to a child. “I thought you might wish to see more of the island.”

He sat there flashing that arrogant, not-so-innocent grin, knowing exactly what he was doing. Drat the crafty blighter for tempting her. How did he know she was anxious to explore the island? A lucky guess, no doubt. It was humiliating to think that she could be so transparent.

Ellie’s good sense warred with her sense of adventure. She could either stay here and scratch out another dozen games of backgammon with rocks when Thomas woke or get a chance to see some of the island, as she’d been dying to do.

It wasn’t much of a battle.

“How can I refuse?” she said wryly.

His grin was every bit as incorrigible as he was. “You can’t.”

“When shall we go?”

“As soon as you’re dressed,” he answered.

She frowned, gazing down at her borrowed
leine
. What was he talking about? It might be old, but there was nothing wrong with what she was wearing—thousands of Irish and Scottish women wore the same every day.

“Hawk is so thoughtful,” Meg said. “Look what he’s brought you.” She pointed to what appeared to be a green woolen cotte folded on the bench beside her. “He thought you might get cold.”

Ellie’s brows wrinkled, surprised by his concern. Again, she wondered what he was up to.

“Thank you,” she said. Meg had generously provided the traditional linen
leine
to go over her ruined chemise, hose, and a pair of old leather slippers, but the fitted wool gown—though nowhere near as fine as what she normally wore—was more what she was used to wearing. “Where did you get it?”

He and Meg exchanged a look, and his mouth quirked. “Pirate secrets, I’m afraid.”

Plundered booty from one of his raids? Her eyes narrowed, trying to figure out whether he was serious. Suspecting he was only teasing her, she reached greedily for the gown and retreated behind the partition.

She emerged a few minutes later, feeling more like herself than she had in days. The gown was large in the waist and chest—not unexpected—but close enough in length. Ellie felt like twirling with delight, but instead gave him a short nod. “Shall we go?”

They said their goodbyes to Meg and left the longhouse, heading inland to the south.

He was right. It was a spectacular day. Sunny, clear, and pleasantly cool, with the mist still burning off the grassy moorland in a steamy haze. The crisp air was infused with a pleasant, salty sea breeze. She lifted her face to the sun as they walked, savoring the gentle, warm caress on her skin.

For a moment she felt like a girl again, traipsing over the verdant Irish countryside until her slippers were caked with dirt and her gown was wrinkled and colored with grass stains. How she’d loved every minute of it.

How long ago it seemed. She felt a pang of longing and regret, knowing she could never go back. These days of freedom would soon be at an end.

They walked side by side at a pace comfortable for her, and what she suspected was a significantly shortened stride for him. But he didn’t seem in any hurry. He never seemed in a hurry. “Where are we going?” she asked.

He gave her an enigmatic smile. “You’ll see.”

She opened her mouth to demand he tell her, but stopped. Not only was she fairly certain he wouldn’t, but she was also grateful enough to be outside not to care. She could play along for now.

She glanced at him from out of the corner of her eye. Even the sun seemed to embrace him, shimmering off the blond streaks in his hair, the deep bronze of his skin, and bathing him in a warm, golden glow. It was almost blinding.

The wind at his back
, he’d said once. He was right. What must it be like to be so favored? To go through life with such unwavering confidence? Not only had he been blessed with a handsome face, a powerful body, and from what she could tell extraordinary warrior skills, he was also funny, charming, and eminently likable.

It must be nice. But maybe a little lonely, too? It seemed so one-sided. People surrounded him for what he could give them—by either words or touch—but what did he get in return? Maybe that’s what made her different: she didn’t want anything from him.

“I’m surprised that you can break away from your men for so long. Don’t you have work to do? Like toss that big sword of yours around?”

His mouth curved wickedly. “I assure you I never toss my sword around.” Her cheeks heated when she realized that he wasn’t referring to armor, but to something else entirely.

“I didn’t mean …” she stammered.

He laughed, taking far too much delight in flustering her. “Have you been watching me, Ellie?”

“Of course not!” she protested, but her cheeks fired even hotter. He knew she was lying—the devil.

It wasn’t as if she’d gone looking for him. She’d simply been near the edge of the cliff the other day and happened to look down to the beach where the men had set up camp and noticed him practicing with his sword, battle-axe, and war hammer. Until she caught herself she’d been mesmerized by the vicious strokes that passed for “training,” marveling at the power and strength that he wielded with each blow.

She was used to watching the formal fighting of knights, but there was nothing civilized about the unharnessed, ruthless fighting style of the Highlanders. It was only natural that she would be curious. She conveniently ignored that her curiosity had been focused on one impressive form in particular.

He seemed content to walk in silence, although he would occasionally point out a farm and identify its owner, or an interesting plant or vista. It was comfortable. Too comfortable. As if she could be happy walking beside him for a long time.

The errant thought shocked her back to reality. Heaven help her, she needed to get home before she completely lost her mind. “How long are you planning on staying here?” she blurted.

“Careful, lass,” he said with one of his dazzling smiles, “or you’ll hurt my tender feelings by making me think you don’t enjoy my company.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother,” she said. “Flash that irresistible grin at someone who will appreciate it.”

His blue eyes danced with mirth. “Irresistible? You think so?”

He truly was incorrigible. She couldn’t imagine what he was like as a boy. She pitied his former nursemaid. “To most women, I would imagine.”

“But utterly wasted on you?” He shook his head. “You are a hard woman to impress, Nurse Ellie.”

“Not hard, just impervious to obvious ploys.”

“Is that so?” he asked, a glint of challenge in his gaze. “You didn’t seem so impervious the other night.”

She forced a steadying calm to her voice that was belied by the sudden leap of her pulse. “That was a mistake,” she said carefully.

“Is that what you call it?” he challenged sarcastically.

His arrogance grated. To him she was a poor, plain nursemaid who must be grateful for the momentary attention of a man like him. She would never let him know how much it had affected her. How even now, gazing up at him in the sun, seeing that soft mouth twisted in a wry grin, all she could think about was how incredible his lips had felt on hers. And the weakness was humiliating.

He was so sure of himself. Well, she was sure of herself, too, and she would not be drawn in.

She mustered up her most breezy, nonchalant expression. “We both know it was nothing. A natural result of closeness, the late hour, and the heat of the room. You could have been anyone.”

He stopped and grabbed her arm, his face impassive except for the slight tightening around his mouth. “Your mature grasp of the situation is quite reassuring.”

There was a hard edge to his voice that made her skin tighten with heat. “We are both adults. You don’t need to worry that I’ll set my sights on you.” She laughed nervously. “I’m hardly likely to fall prey to a man like you.”

His jaw locked, and his blue eyes bore right into her. “Is that so?” he drawled dangerously.

Never dare a daredevil
. She realized her mistake at once and tried to make him see she hadn’t meant it as a challenge. She was just trying to be practical, but he’d taken it as a criticism. “I only meant that we are too different. Look at us.” The differences should have been obvious. “I’m sure I’m not the type of woman that you usually kiss.”

“You think you know me so well?”

“I know your type. Lighthearted, charming, unflappable. Women love you and you love them back. All of them. Life is your private joke and you never take anything seriously.”

“You’re wrong,” he said in a dark voice. “Some things I take
very
seriously.”

Her heart beat a little faster at the way he was looking at her. As if he intended to show her exactly what he meant, and this time she didn’t think it would be by a simple kiss. He was far more dangerous like this. Intense. Angry. Brutally male. Her heart took a funny little jump as she stood there frozen, knowing she should step back but unable to force her feet to move.

“You know what I think, Ellie? I think you liked that kiss quite a lot. I think you wanted more.
Much
more. I think you
wanted
to let go for once and experience life. I think that you have been responsible for so long, and cut yourself off from feeling anything, that you’ve forgotten how to have fun.”

She gasped at how close to the mark he’d hit. Was she so obvious? She felt a horrible stinging behind her eyes. “So you think I’m some dried-up virgin who could use a little excitement, and you decided to take pity on me?”

His eyes flared. He took a step closer, and the heat of his body washed over her. “Pity wasn’t what I felt at all.”

The bottom dropped out of her stomach.
Lust.
That’s what he meant, and the acknowledgment set all of her already frazzled nerves prickling with heat. The thought that he could lust for someone like her seemed inexplicable. Men like him didn’t spare her two glances.

She tried to ignore his closeness, but his tall, muscular body loomed over her in the bright sunlight, enveloping her with his fierce masculine essence. He put his hand on her hip and it felt like a brand. A claim.

Her heart pounded against her ribs. God, he was going to kiss her again. For one reckless moment—before prudence and self-preservation took over—she wanted it. But she couldn’t let him know how intensely her body reacted to him. He would only use it against her. She wouldn’t become a game. A challenge. Another woman to fall to his feet. Just one more in a long line of conquests for a Viking raider.

Though every instinct in her body clamored to surrender to her senses, she forced herself to stand boldly before him, giving no hint to how deeply he affected her. How her body was quivering for him. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life. Who are you to pass judgment? A man who flashes a grin and turns everything into a joke so that he can avoid making any real attachments.”

His jaw grew so taut she wondered if she’d gone too far.