The Magnificent Rogue (19 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: The Magnificent Rogue
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“Are we finished?”

“I hope you’re speaking of our preparations and not our extremely mortal selves,” he said. He turned away and moved toward the fire. “It’s a hearty blaze. You did well.” He glanced over his shoulder and said soberly, “And not only in the building of fires. I could not have asked for a better helpmate.”

Through the haze of cold and weariness enfolding her, she felt a tiny flicker of pride. “Neither could I.”

“But I’m not a woman.”

“I believe that to be an unfair remark. I will have to think on it.” She could not seem to think at all at the moment. She moved toward the fire and held out her hands. “This must not be good wood. There’s hardly any heat.”

“There’s plenty of heat.” He glanced down at her hands and went still. “They’re bloody. Where the devil are your gloves?”

“They were woolen, and the branches tore them to pieces, so I threw them away.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t matter.” He touched a deep scratch on her palm. “Do you feel this?”

She shook her head.

“God’s blood!” He pushed her down on the ground before the fire and dropped to his knees beside her. He jerked off his heavy leather gloves, took her left hand between both of his, and began to chafe it.

“What are you doing?” She tried to draw away.

“Stay still,” he said between his teeth. “You have frostbite. You’ll be lucky if your hands aren’t frozen. I can’t believe you—why didn’t you go back to the cave when I told you to?”

“You needed me. How was I to know this could happen so quickly? We do not have such weather in the Midlands. Do you have to be so rough? It’s beginning to hurt.”

“Good,” he said, continuing the chafing.

Her skin was tingling, the scratches stinging so painfully it brought tears to her eyes. “Is it not enough?”

He dropped her hand, ordered her to hold it out to the fire, and reached for the other one. “Can you feel the heat?”

“Yes.”

“When you start feeling pain in this hand, tell me.”

She was already beginning to feel the first tingling sensation, but it was another few minutes before the pain began in earnest. “Now.”

“In all the fingers?”

Tears began to run down her cheeks. “The thumb is still a little numb.”

He shifted his hold and began to concentrate on her thumb and index finger, bringing them to life.

He dropped her hand and lifted his gaze to her tear-streaked face. “I realize it hurts,” he said hoarsely. “But I couldn’t leave them like that.”

“I know.” She wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually so stupid as to weep due to a little discomfort.”

“More than a little. I’ve had frostbite.” He grabbed a clean blanket from the supplies Gavin had piled against the wall and spread it before the fire. “Lie down and rest.”

“I have to see to Caird and Rachel.”

“I’ll do it.”

“You’re as tired as I am.”

He ignored the protest and walked toward the horses tethered in the back of the cave.

Perhaps he wasn’t as tired, she thought hazily. He moved with the same indomitable strength and power he had exhibited when he had first gone down the slope more than two hours ago.

Well, she was not so impervious to weariness. She sat down on the blanket and watched as he probed gently at Caird’s ankles.

I’ll cut his throat myself
.

But he hadn’t killed Caird. He had struggled and fought to save both the horse and herself at the risk of his own life. Her gaze shifted to the hole at the top of the barrier and she saw the snow falling faster, denser, turning late afternoon into night. They were safe for the time being, but Gavin’s anxiety had made abundantly clear that the danger was not over. Her gaze went back to Robert. It would have been terrible to be alone here in this isolated place, but it was even more terrible to be responsible for danger to another human being.

“No swelling. You’ll be glad to know the cause of all this trouble is fine,” Robert said as he stood up and patted Caird’s neck. “I mean, as fine as this bag of bones ever is,” he added wryly.

She was too weary to defend the insult to Caird. She curled up on the blanket watching Robert as he took a cloth and began to wipe down the piebald.

Soon she would get up and help, but it would do no harm to rest for a moment.…

•    •    •

Robert sat across the fire, staring into the flames when she opened her eyes.

He looked as he always did: powerful, remote, controlled. Even when he thought himself unobserved, there was no lowering of that wariness that was always with him.

He glanced up as he felt her gaze on him. “I was hoping you’d sleep through the night.”

The sky beyond the opening appeared darker, the shadows on the wall of the cave more pronounced. “How long did I sleep?”

“Not long. A few hours.”

She sat up and brushed her hair back from her face. “I didn’t mean to sleep at all.”

“Why not? There’s nothing else to do.” He poured liquid from the pot hanging over the flames into a cup. “But since you’re awake, drink this.”

She looked at the milky-looking liquid in the cup he handed her. “What is it?”

“Hot water brewed with the bones of the hare we killed yesterday.”

She made a face. “I don’t think I—”

“Drink it. It’s not much, but it may have some strengthening power. We ate a meal this morning before we set out, so we’ll wait until tomorrow to roast the hare. From now on we’ll eat only once a day … and lightly.”

“You believe that the storm may last for days as Gavin said?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. You can never tell this time of year. It could last a day or a week. If it only lasts a day or two, once it stops, we should be able to make it down to the foothills.”

“And if it lasts longer?”

“The trail will be impassable, and it may take a month before the drifts melt enough for us to get down.”

“A month!”

“If fortune is with us.” He met her gaze. “Two years ago one of my clan was stranded in a cave like this for two months.”

“What happened to him?”

“He froze to death.”

She inhaled sharply. “How terrible.”

“Aye, he was on his way from Edinburgh. He told no one he was coming home, or we would have searched for him. By the time we received word, it was too late.” He glanced at the cup in her hand. “Drink.”

She took a sip and found it as unpleasant as it looked. “Are you sure Gavin will be safe?”

“I can’t be sure of anything, but he has a better chance than we do.”

“I did not realize that—”

“I know you didn’t realize the hazards.” He smiled crookedly. “But even if you had, would you have acted differently?”

Her gaze went to Caird. How could she have acted differently toward her old friend and companion? She glanced at Robert. “I couldn’t have deserted Caird, but, yes, I would have acted differently. If I’d known the danger was this great, I wouldn’t have listened to you. I would have made you go with Gavin. It was not right for me to let you risk your life.”

His brows lifted. “And how would you have done that? Hit me on the head as you did in the forest?”

“If necessary.”

He chuckled. “I believe you would. What touching gratitude after all my efforts on your behalf.”

“I am grateful,” she said haltingly. “You have no idea how grateful I am—no one has ever risked their life for me before—but there is guilt also. I should not have let you do it.”

“As I remember, I gave you no choice.” He made an impatient gesture. “There’s no use discussing it now. It’s done.”

“Yes, it’s done.” She looked at the pile of wood,
which appeared pitifully small after Robert’s chilling story. It was warm here now, even cozy, but if the trail became impassable, so would the slope that led to their only source of fuel. “Should we put out the fire to save wood?”

“We’ll burn it only at night when it’s coldest. The barriers should be tight enough to keep us from freezing during the day.”

She involuntarily shuddered at his words.

“I’m not trying to frighten you. I’m trying to be honest. You deserve better than lies.” He met her gaze. “Believe me, I have no intention of dying.”

“Perhaps your clansman didn’t either.”

“He stayed and waited for the thaw that didn’t come. I’ll not make that mistake.”

“What will you do?”

“Find a way. There’s always a way to be found, if you search hard enough.”

For the first time since she had opened her eyes, she felt a surge of hope. Robert would never give up. She should not either. “So what should we do now?”

“Sleep. We’ll need it. After we put out the fire tomorrow morning, we’ll have to keep moving to keep warm.” He finished his drink and put his cup aside. “By sunset tomorrow I guarantee you’ll be wearier than if you’d ridden through these mountains all day.” He stretched out and closed his lids.

He suddenly looked younger, more vulnerable, now that she could no longer see those dark, glittering eyes. Why, he
was
young, she thought. He seemed much older and more seasoned than Gavin, but in years he and his henchman were a scant five apart. He had a full life yet to live.

And that life could be quenched like the flame of a candle.

And the blame would be hers.

He had known her only chance to live was for him to stay and make preparations that would mean survival,
and he had done it. She had made him promise to treat her as he did Gavin, and he had done that also. He had extended his protection as if she belonged to Craighdhu as Gavin did. But Gavin had known the danger and would never have endangered Robert as she had done.

If Robert died, she didn’t know how she could live with the burden of guilt. He had saved her life, and she owed him a great debt, a debt that seemed more smothering and intolerable with each passing moment.

Dear God, she did not wish to owe Robert MacDarren anything. Debt was a bond, and she could not bear to be bound to him any longer. She had discovered in these past weeks how hurtful it was to live only on the fringes of his life, and she would do it no longer. She had thought when they reached Craighdhu she would find a way to cut their ties, but she could not do it if she was laden with this overwhelming obligation.

She lay down, cradling her head on her arm, staring at him as he slept.

Now that she was closer to him, he no longer appeared either young or vulnerable. His lips had a wicked sensual curve, and the hollowed plane of his cheeks gave him a look of exotic hunger.

Her heart was beating so hard, it was almost painful, as she sank to her knees beside him. She desperately wanted to scurry around to her former place by the fire. She must not be so cowardly. She had made up her mind, and now she must just do it.

She drew a deep breath, then reached out and touched his cheek.

She flinched back as his lids immediately flicked open. “What is it?”

She drew her blanket closer around her. “I must talk to you.”

“I thought it had all been said.”

She glanced away from him. “Not everything. I’ve thought about it and … It is hard to put it into words. But if you wish it …”

He stiffened. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“How should I know what you think I’m saying? My tongue is so clumsy, I wonder you can understand me at all.” She drew a shaky breath and started again. “You appear to set store by this carnal coupling. After all, we are wed. I suppose I would not mind if you …” She stopped again and then said in a rush, “Why don’t you say something? I told you this was difficult for me.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “I’m trying to decide why you’ve suddenly chosen to gift me in this fashion. Guilt?”

“Yes,” she said bluntly. “And I owe a great debt. In spite of what you say, I believe there’s a possibility I may never be able to repay you as I would like.” Her hands clenched nervously. “And if I don’t repay you, I would feel … I would never be free of you. This seems the only … I don’t see why you think this act is important, but I would not deny you.” She had gotten it all out, she thought with relief. “If you still want it, I believe I can bear it.”

“Want it?”

She inhaled sharply as she saw his expression change from wariness to sensuality.

“Oh, yes, I still want it,” he said in a thick voice. “I’ve wanted nothing else since that night at the inn. At times I thought I’d go mad with wanting it.” He smiled recklessly. “And I don’t give a whit how I get it. I’ll accept gratitude as long as I get the rest.”

It was going to happen. She had thought her heart was pounding hard before, but now it was trying to leap from her breast. “You’ll have to tell me how to do this. Sebastian told me I had the instincts of Lilith, but he must be wrong or I would never be this uncertain.” She let the blanket fall to the ground, and the heat of
the fire touched her body. “However, I’m not so ignorant I don’t know it starts like this. Isn’t that so?”

His muscles locked, became rigid, as his gaze fastened on the pink tips of her breasts. “Nakedness is usually not required in the middle of a snowstorm.”

“I thought it would be over quicker if I got the disrobing out of the way. I’m not cold.” An understatement, she thought. A trail of scorching heat followed his gaze as it moved from her nipples down her body to the soft hair that encircled her womanhood.

“Neither am I,” he said hoarsely.

“Should I lie down and close my eyes?”

“So that you won’t see the horrible fate that’s about to overtake you? Not yet.” He reached out and touched her belly. “I want to test your tolerance.” His fingers trailed down to the curls that had so absorbed his attention. “I want to see just how much you can bear.”

A shock went through her, and her muscles clenched beneath his touch.

“What a violent response,” he murmured as he began to stroke and pet her. “And I’m sure I’m not hurting you.”

No, not pain, something else. “I feel as I did when I fell out of an oak tree when I was a little girl of six. It was—” She closed her eyes as his hand reached down to cup her. “Why … are you doing that?”

His fingers were patting, probing, delicately exploring. “Don’t you like it?”

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