Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends #1.5)(5)

Susanna followed the sound of his voice to where he stood by her horse that had been tethered with the others. He’d opened her satchel and now held up the parcel of food she had carefully wrapped for her journey. Since the package had lain at the bottom of her belongings, he’d obviously satisfied himself that she had no further weapons.

She shook her head. Robert shrugged, but surprisingly took her rations with him as he walked beyond his men. Duncan and Seamus sat on separate blankets spaced a few feet apart from both each other and the fire. Robert lowered down onto another plaid, which confused her because he’d given her the one she huddled under. She glanced at the horses to confirm hers was missing; he sat upon her father’s red-and-black clan plaid.

He knows. Robert had to have figured out who her father was by her MacEalan plaid; Broc had boasted about wearing the newly adopted attire at diplomatic events over the last year.

She had no idea what outsiders thought of the tyrant who subjugated the women in his family, but she knew what those in her clan thought. They worshiped him. His ruthless hand had kept them safe from English domination, and to the people under his care, he’d become nothing short of a god.

Robert watched her with unconcealed interest. She narrowed her eyes, irritation brewing at the blatant rudeness of his confiscating her possessions. First her dagger. Now her rations. The only consolation was that he hadn’t taken a bite of her food, but instead had spread the small bread round, wedge of cheese, and her now quartered red apple upon the linen wrapping. He lifted his hand, offering her a piece of apple.

She shook her head again, refusing to be lured closer to the stranger with her food. The curious, soft expression on his face calmed her to a degree, but his very maleness overrode the alarming instinct to trust him.

As she stared at Robert, he held her gaze but addressed his men. “Duncan, Seamus, you must be hungry from your hard work.”

His men exchanged glances.

“Aye,” Duncan said with a guarded tone.

“Aye,” Seamus added, the corners of his mouth twitching once again into a smirk.

Robert passed part of her food to his men, never breaking his assessing eye contact with her. Without asking, he gave away provisions she’d taken great care to steal and hide for her journey. Goading her. Yet with the intense gaze he blazed her way, and not one morsel of food nearing his mouth, he behaved only in small part like the men she’d been exposed to. Something more, an undercurrent of indecipherable emotion beneath his inconsiderate fa?ade, threw her off-balance.

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to stare into a fire that had calmed without stoking. None of its heat managed to reach where she still sat upon the log, and an uncontrollable shiver racked through her from head to toe.

Aggravated by the grief the men seemed intent to cause, but reminding herself it was endurable compared to what she’d been through, she relented and stalked over to her plaid. She quelled her ire by realizing if they’d intended to camp for the night, they had food, and she’d take from them in kind before hunger became an issue. Without giving Robert the satisfaction of a glance or a word, she took a corner that he’d left clear, closest to the fire. She sighed and opened the front of her wrap, pulling in the fire’s remaining heat.

Robert snorted. “Susanna, doona suffer on my account. Eat. We’ve still a journey ahead of us on the morrow, and you’ll need your strength.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Robert moved the last of her bread and cheese near her, his fingers balancing a wedge of apple on the very top. By the time she looked up from the tiny pile of food, he’d reclined back, the opening of a waterskin between his lips as he drank.

Her throat was dry. Susanna swallowed, needing some of what he held to quench her thirst, but she refused to open her mouth. She’d never asked a man for anything...and had no intention of beginning.

Robert’s eyes lit with mischief. “Would you like some water, Susanna?”

She nodded before her verbal response fully formed. He leaned forward and held the neck of the waterskin up. Her lips pursed around the opening, and cold, pure water filled her mouth. Each crisp, quenching swallow tasted more amazing than the one before. Once she’d had her fill, she tipped her chin up to stop the flow.

“There. Not so difficult,” he said.

She eyed him in silence for long moments, unable to read his behavior as kindness or mockery. Her gaze slowly dropped to the food. The beast had left her a fraction of what she’d packed, but the small portion would suffice for the night. She tried to grasp the apple wedge with two fingers, reasoning it was foolish to let any of it go to waste for her pride, but with her wrists bound so tightly, maneuvering to pick it up proved awkward.

“Allow me,” he said.

Robert put the apple aside, and she watched as he tore the hard bread into smaller pieces before lifting the first bite up to her. Her mouth fell open over the shock of a man tending to a woman with such care, which gave him the perfect opportunity to place the food between her lips.

It surprised her when he took great effort not to touch her. In fact, he leaned so close into her body, his nearness afforded her some of his heat without any trace of contact.

She closed her mouth and chewed slowly, staring at him.

“You doona need to worry, Susanna. You’re under our protection. When we’re back at the castle, all your fears will fade away.”