The Hawk (Highland Guard #2)(116)

She bounced along as he made his way down the dark corridors and winding stairs of the main tower of Dunluce. With all the excitement and confusion of the wedding, it seemed no one noticed the big man with the squirming sack swung over his shoulder.

She put up a good fight despite her circumstances, landing a good kick or two, until he put his hand on her bottom. The smooth caresses sent shivers of awareness shooting through her that made her body go limp and boneless. When she squirmed again it was with something else, and the blighter—drat the chuckling braggart—knew it.

She felt the cool breeze when they exited the tower. A few minutes later the ground became steeper, and she knew he must have crossed the bridge and started down toward the cave. She didn’t struggle for fear she would send them both down the cliffside. But sure-footed as usual, he navigated the terrain like a wildcat.

Suddenly the air grew still and damp, and she knew they must be in the Mermaid’s Cave. Where it had all begun. A few minutes later she heard the splash of water against his legs and then felt herself lifted into a boat. Another man took hold of her and seated her on a wooden bench. “I’m watching the teeth and elbows this time, lass.”

Domnall. She should have known he’d be involved in this. Some thanks she got for helping him escape. She tried to tell him just as much, but he only chuckled—no doubt understanding the gist of her muffled ramblings.

A short time later, the ship picked up speed, and the sack was lifted off her head. She blinked against the sun, seeing Erik standing there innocently. Wisely, the other men had given them some space—as much as they could on the small birlinn.

He winced, accurately reading the daggers in her eyes. “Perhaps I should wait awhile to take off the bindings until she calms down,” he said to Domnall a few feet in front of them.

The older man shrugged. “I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you either way, lad.”

Erik must have decided to take his chances, because he started to untie the silk bindings at her wrists and mouth.

When she was free, she turned on him, intending to vent her anger, but a glimpse of the castle in the background stopped her cold. Her heart dropped seeing the enormous cliff. He had to be mad, climbing up the tower like that. He could have killed himself.

She got her first good look at him, and her foolish heart did a little flip. He’d shaved most of the scruff from his face, leaving a devilishly thin line of whiskers down his chin. It was the strangest beard she’d ever seen, but the line of stubble seemed to suit him. He’d trimmed his hair, though it was still long enough to fall across his piercing blue eyes. Piercing blue eyes that were looking at her with a strange softness that made her senses prickle. He wore a soft leather war coat, but no other armor (probably due to the asinine climb). Teeth flashing white against his sun-drenched skin, he looked unbearably handsome. It almost hurt just to look at him.

She finally found her tongue. “What in God’s name do you think you are doing? Take me home at once.”

“I wanted to apologize.”

Apologize? After he’d broken her heart and then, for good measure, crushed it beneath his heel?

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?”

He winced, taking in her rumpled finery. The boyish expression of contrition on his face reminded her of her brother Edmond. But he hadn’t broken a flowerpot or dropped a fine piece of glass; he’d shattered something far more precious.

“I only heard about the wedding a few hours ago. I got here as soon as I could.” His brows furrowed angrily. “How could you do it, lass? How could you agree to marry him? You’d better start explaining, because right now I’m not sure I’m going to be able to forgive you.”

Forgive her! He must be addled. He was the one who’d sent her away. “I’m not—” She stopped herself, her eyes narrowing. She didn’t owe him an explanation. He’d made his choice. Let him think what he would.

She arched a brow and lifted her chin haughtily, the way she knew would irritate him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

His mouth fell in a hard line, and she knew he was fighting to stay calm. “Because you love me.”

Ellie felt her cheeks grow hot as her temper flared at his arrogance. She glared at him. “So I’m supposed to pine away for you for the rest of my life? I think not.” She spread her hands out, indicating her finery. “As you can see, I’ve decided to get on with my life. I accept your apology; now take me back. I’ve a wedding to attend.”

He frowned. Apparently, this wasn’t going the way he had intended. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I can’t let you marry de Monthermer. I’d have to kill him, and I don’t think your father or King Edward would forgive me that.”

Her heart thumped hard in her chest, whether from anger or from what she suspected he might say, she didn’t know. “Of course you won’t kill him. My marriage is none of your concern.”

“But I love you.”

Her heart stopped, then stuttered to an uneasy race. For so long she’d dreamed of hearing those simple words, but she no longer trusted herself to believe them. He’d hurt her too much. “What am I supposed to do, fall to my knees with gratitude? It’s too late. I gave you a chance to make it your concern, but you declined.”

The breeze swept through her hair, tearing a few of the carefully bundled strands free to blow across her face. Gently, he captured one with his finger and tucked it behind her ear, looking at her with such tenderness, she felt foolish stirrings in her chest.