The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(39)

He felt an unwelcome stab, unable to ignore the fact that she looked lonely.

More than once he’d caught her watching him. Practically swallowed up by the heavy woolen huque that she wore, all he could see were two big eyes looking up at him expectantly—eagerly. Obviously, she hoped that he would join her.

But the way she looked at him made him uneasy. It was as though she thought he was some kind of hero. Perhaps, given her father, it was understandable. To her it no doubt seemed as if he’d rescued her. But he was no knight errant. He’d married her because it had been worth his while, not because he couldn’t stop seeing her face when he’d refused to marry her.

It wasn’t that he was without sympathy; he just didn’t want to set up unrealistic expectations or have her suffer under any illusions.

He belonged to his clan, not to one woman.

But the pricking in his conscience would not go away. It was her wedding day, and rather than joining her for a celebratory feast, he’d boarded her on a birlinn for a long, uncomfortable journey. And she’d borne it all with nary a word of complaint.

It would do no harm to see if she was warm enough. With a sigh of resignation, he handed the ropes to one of his men and made his way down the center of the boat to where she was seated.

She turned, and reading his intent, the radiant smile that spread across her face stopped him in his tracks.

Hell. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. But it was too late to turn around. Untying the fur-lined brat that he wore around his shoulders, he held it out to her. “Here, take this. You must be freezing.”

He wasn’t used to having women onboard or he would have thought of it before. She was such a tiny thing, with little to protect her from the elements. He could see the cold on her pink, windblown cheeks.

She eyed it hesitantly. “But won’t you be cold? You have only a cotun.”

He shook his head. “I’m used to it. Besides, I have a plaid if I need it.” He dropped it around her shoulders. “Take it.”

She smiled up at him, and he felt a strange pinch between his ribs.

“Thank you,” she said, a soft blush upon her cheeks. “It’s very thoughtful of you.”

He stared at her for a moment longer, unable to force his feet to move. Finally, he pulled his gaze away, clearing his throat uncomfortably. Damn, it was almost as if he was flustered! He was a battle-hardened warrior of one and thirty years, not a lad of eight and ten. “Aye, well, it won’t be much longer. We should arrive within the hour.” He turned to go.

“Wait!” she said hastily. “Can’t you sit for a moment?”

Her small white teeth bit into the soft pillow of her lush pink lip. He felt another stab, this time much lower. His c**k stirred, thinking of the night to come. Quickly, he shifted his gaze, annoyed by the lapse.

Sensing that he was going to say no, she added, “Please, there is something I should like to say.”

“It can’t wait until we arrive?” Though what he had in mind for her when they arrived wouldn’t leave much time for talking.

She tucked an errant strand of dark hair behind her ear self-consciously. It was dainty and small like the rest of her—shaped like a perfect pink shell.

“Perhaps it’s silly, but I’d like to arrive at Dun … vegan?” He nodded. “With this said. With all the unpleasantness behind us.” She smiled sheepishly, “Besides, if I don’t say it right now, I might lose my courage.”

With the seat on the bench beside her occupied by her snoring maid, he moved around to sit opposite her, his back facing the bow of the boat. “Very well, what is it you would like to say?”

She drew a deep breath and spoke softly, so as to not be overheard by the men seated nearby at the oars. “I wanted to apologize for my part in what happened that night.” He stiffened reflexively in anger at the subject, and she added quickly, “Please, you must believe me when I say that I did not know what my father truly intended. He swore that it would be a minute or two. I didn’t realize …” Her eyes dropped. Even in the semidarkness he could see her cheeks burning. “I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. But I did sneak into your room, knowing my father wanted to force you into marrying me, and for that I’m sorry.”

Not exactly a point he wanted to remember. His pride still smarted that she’d managed to get past his considerable guard. He bit back his anger and asked evenly, “Why did you do it?”

She turned her head away, embarrassed. “If I didn’t do as my father ordered …”

She couldn’t get the words out, so he finished for her. “He would have beat you.” It was as he’d thought: She’d been coerced. But as much as he hated some men’s abuse of their women, and could sympathize with her fear, it didn’t change the fact that she’d gone along with her father’s treachery and in doing so had put him in an untenable position. “And you never thought of refusing?”

Perhaps she heard the latent accusation in his question because a sting of pride replaced some of her embarrassment. She eyed his arms and shoulders, her gaze traveling down the length of him in a way that made his blood heat. “Not everyone is as tall as a mountain and stacked with muscles like rock.”

She’d noticed his body, had she? The heat in his blood roared a little hotter.