Page 13 of Bound to a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #8)
CHAPTER TWELVE
“ I still think ye should go back tae the castle,” Tiernan said as the two of them rode down the path towards the woods, looking for the place where Constantine’s hut was supposed to be.
“I’m nae goin’ back,” Isabeau insisted. Tiernan didn’t know why he had expected anything else. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he was dealing with a very stubborn woman and nothing he said made any difference.
She hadn’t even let him deal with the blacksmith himself.
“Ye’re nae safe here,” Tiernan pointed out. “What if somethin’ happens tae ye?”
“I’d rather somethin’ happen tae me than somethin’ happen tae me family an’ me people,” Isabeau said, and though Tiernan couldn’t see her face as she was sitting in front of him on the saddle, he was certain she was frowning in that fierce way of hers, the one that left no room for argument. It was one of those things that he admired the most about her; her determination, the unbridled love she had for her family and her people which urged her to sacrifice herself rather than put them in any danger.
It was a noble sentiment, but also one that could easily get her killed.
“I’ll finish the job afore Beag has the chance tae attack yer clan,” Tiernan promised. “I willnae let him put anyone else in danger.”
For a moment, Isabeau glanced at him over her shoulder, her green eyes locking in on him. “I trust ye,” she said and it felt as though she truly meant it, the words settling heavy in Tiernan’s stomach. There was something about her earnestness that unsettled him, as though his promise didn’t hold enough weight but her trust did. “But I will never dae anythin’ tae put me family in danger. I’d rather nae risk it.”
Tiernan shook his head with a sigh at Isabeau’s stubbornness, but he said nothing more. There was nothing to say, knowing that she would simply dismiss it without even hearing him. For all she claimed to know the risks, Tiernan didn’t believe that she truly understood just how dangerous that situation could be for her. She was being brave but also terribly foolish, and he didn’t know how else to protect her other than to send her back home.
Silence stretched between them, and this time, it felt suffocating, weighing the air around them. It was an unpleasant day, dark and chilly, steel grey clouds gathering up above them to announce an oncoming storm. The sun was only visible in the far distance, where its rays speared through the clouds to reach the land, bathing the valley in gold.
Tiernan’s hands tightened around the reins, his jaw clenching tightly. Until then, his argument with Isabeau had been enough to distract him from an issue that should have been very obvious to him—they were once again too close. Sitting in front of him, her back was pressed against his chest, Tiernan could feel the warmth of her body even through the layers of clothes that separated them. It was enough to drive him mad with need, but had that been the end of it, perhaps he could have borne it with some dignity. As it were, the gentle movements of the horse as it trotted down the path only served to have Isabeau move against him, too, the slow, sensual rhythm of her hips like kindle to the flames of his arousal.
He didn’t know how he could possibly go the entire ride like that. He was already hardening, and he was forcing himself to think about anything other than Isabeau there, between his arms.
Alaric. Alaric in a lass’ clothes. Alaric in a lass’ clothes dancin’ the black nag.
It was not helping. Unattractive as the thought was, Tiernan’s reality was much more solid, invading his mind even as he tried to push it away. How could he focus on Alaric when Isabeau was right there, so real and warm and inviting against him?
Alaric killin’ me with me own sword because I touched his sister.
That thought was a little more sobering. Tiernan had no doubt that if Alaric and Ewan could see into his mind and know what it was he was thinking about their sister, they wouldn’t even have him hanged. They would kill him themselves and would not even attempt to make it look like an accident.
What could a criminal like him offer a girl like Isabeau? There was nothing he could give her, nothing that could erase the fact that he was a brigand and she was the sister of a laird. He should not even be thinking about it, let alone allow himself to get as close as he had.
As they reached a steep part of the path, rocky and uneven, Tiernan rushed the horse down its length. He was an experienced rider, and it was an experienced horse, so although it had been in his possession for a very short time, he trusted it to descend smoothly—or at least as smoothly as possible. Isabeau, however, didn’t seem to think the descent was as smooth, her hands tightening around the front of the saddle.
“Is this how ye were taught tae ride?” she asked, her tone sharp and accusatory. “Or are ye doin’ it simply tae annoy me?” r
Tiernan gritted his teeth, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “If ye dinnae like it, ye can always get yer own horse.”
“I would had I any gold!” Isabeau said. “But I dinnae have any! I gave it away fer these swords!”
“I never told ye tae dae such a thing,” Tiernan pointed out. If anything, he had had it all under control. It was Isabeau who insisted on getting involved and stopping him before he could properly threaten the blacksmith. The rings would have been more than enough for them to get everything they wanted, but Isabeau had had to stop him from giving the man just what he deserved. “Ye should have kept the damned necklace. I had it all under control.”
“It didnae seem so tae me,” Isabeau insisted, and though Tiernan couldn’t see her face, he could tell she as frowning again, that look he that annoyed him as much as he loved it at that moment. “In fact, it rather seemed like the two o’ ye were goin’ tae kill each other. And I would have been left all alone.”
“So that is what ye care about,” said Tiernan indignantly. He didn’t really know why he would ever expect anything else, but he had petulantly hoped that his death would be a bigger concern to Isabeau than being left alone. “Well, I wasnae goin’ tae die. I ken men like him an’ he couldnae have done anythin’ tae me.”
“I dinnae ken how ye can claim that when that man was clearly dangerous,” said Isabeau.
“Because so am I,” said Tiernan.
There was another silence, this one shorter but just as weighted, settling heavy over Tiernan’s shoulders. It was only when they had made it down the path that Isabeau spoke again, mumbling under her breath, her voice just audible enough for Tiernan to catch it.
“Ye’re so stubborn.”
She has the gall tae speak o’ stubbornness!
“An’ ye’re like a bothersome hen, peckin’ at me all the time,” he told her.
Isabeau gasped in response but said nothing. Her revenge came in a different way as she shifted her body sharply, causing the horse to buck and jerk under Tiernan. He cursed under his breath, fingers tightening around the reins, and only barely managed to keep the horse calm and on track, heart beating hard and fast in his chest.
“Dae ye wish tae kill us?” he asked her.
“I thought ye’re nae afraid o’ anythin’,” Isabeau retorted, and much to his chagrin, Tiernan fell right into her trap.
“I’m nae.”
Isabeau’s only response was a chuckle, one that had his blood boiling in his veins. This challenging side of Isabeau only served to make her even more attractive, damnation. It was a strange thing. The more she fought him, the more she challenged and bothered him, the more he wanted her—which was the exact opposite of what he needed.
It didn’t help that he had been aroused throughout the entire ride and that by then, his member was aching, his body craving release. His anger did nothing to dampen his need. His only solace was the fact that Isabeau didn’t seem to have noticed anything, which could only mean Tiernan’s attempts to keep his hips away from her had been successful.
Thank the Lord fer the small blessings.
He couldn’t even imagine what he would say if Isabeau inquired as to the nature of the pressure she felt against her back. He would have no excuses for himself, nothing to say to cover the truth, and Isabeau would surely be offended, as was her right. Tiernan couldn’t help but feel like a teenager again, losing his mind over the barest touch, over the mere proximity to a woman, and he silently cursed himself for it. There he was, in his thirtieth year, acting and feeling like a fool simply because Isabeau was nearby.
The only thing that saved him from any further embarrassment in that moment was the fact that in the far distance, right through the trees, in a large clearing in the middle of the forest, he saw a small hut with a smoking chimney.
If he’s anywhere in these woods, then he must be there.
Pulling the horse to a halt, he leaned forward a little, his arousal quickly dampening and replacing itself with equal measures of curiosity and adrenaline. He had been plotting for this moment, trying to make sure he had predicted everything that could go wrong and everything that could get him and Isabeau killed, but now it all felt insufficient. He wished he had spent more time preparing for what was to come. He wished he had insisted more on Isabeau returning to the castle. But it was too late now—they were there.
“Alright,” he said as he dismounted the horse before helping Isabeau do the same. “Follow me an’ keep quiet.”