Page 23 of Forge of the Highlander’s Destiny

W hen Cohen woke, he felt rested, at long last. He turned and saw a beautiful, sleeping Arya lying on his chest, her dark hair sprawled out over his chest. He kissed the top of her head and smiled to himself.

“Nay pillows between us now,” he said with a laugh, and Arya stirred in his arms. Her hand reached up around his neck, and her movements only stirred his lust, hardening him quickly. Not that he wasn’t hard already.

“What are ye sayin’, Lad?” Arya answered sleepily, and she looked up at him, her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed. Laughing, he leaned down to kiss her, and then he wasn’t laughing any longer. Instantly, lust consumed him, and he wanted her again.

I daenae think I will ever be sated with Arya.

He pulled her beneath him while still kissing her, and she made a little mew of approval in the back of her throat. His hands roamed across her soft skin, grasping her breasts and then moving down to clutch her waist and her backside.

“Can ye take me this mornin’? Or are ye too sore?” he asked throatily.

She nodded. “I am nae too sore. I want ye,” she replied, pulling on his shoulders, and lifting her hips. Who was he to deny the woman?

He lifted her legs so that her opening was at a better angle, and he pushed into her.

She sighed with contentment and pleasure as he began to move quickly.

This morning, his need was great, and he was happy when she came first, her fingernails cutting into his arms, and he came straight after, riding the blissful wave of pleasure as he pulsed into her.

“By God, Arya,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “Ye make me want ye more and more.” He laughed as he pulled her under his arm. But Arya didn’t stay there for long. She sat up and looked across the chamber.

“Look, there is food there. Did we nae hear them come in?”

“I suppose nae,” Cohen laughed. “They must have snuck in last night while we were sleepin’.

” He shook his head. “I should scold them for it, but they were right nae to interrupt us with a knock.” He reached for her, but she evaded his grasp, jumping out of bed and wandering over to the tray of food on the far table, blissfully naked.

“Do ye nae want any food? I am practically starved.” She leaned down to pick up a piece of fruit, and Cohen sat up, leaning his head on his hand and watched her.

“I have never seen the like,” he said proudly, and she turned, blushing a little, clasping at her breasts to cover herself.

He frowned. “Daenae dare cover up those beauties or be ashamed of yer nakedness. Ye are more beautiful than I ever could have imagined, Arya.” She smiled and removed her hand from her breasts, picking up a piece of fruit and sauntering back toward him, her hips swaying seductively.

She sat on the bed and handed him a slice of apple. “Would ye like to eat something?” she asked, holding it out toward him. He looked down at the apple slice and instead, lightly bit the edge of her wrist.

“I should think of somethin’ I should like to eat more.” His eyes darkened as he stared at her, and she giggled, popping the apple into her mouth.

After she chewed, she said, “Ye are a foolish man, I think. But I… care for ye anyway.”

She snuggled up next to him again, and Cohen realized that he was holding his breath. He realized that he had been as soon as he thought she might tell him that she loved him. But of course, he was being foolish. He held her close and placed a kiss on her head.

At least she cared for him. At least she’d married him. That was something.

“So, dear wife,” he asked, pulling apart from her and looking into her eyes. “Would ye like to go huntin’ today? Just ye and me?”

“Huntin’?” she asked breathlessly. “Och, aye! I would love it!” She wrapped her arms about him and kissed him on the neck and the cheek. “That would be perfect!”

“Good,” he laughed. “We are married now, so we now have naethin’ to fear. I wrote back to yer faither to tell him of our decision. I hope ye daenae mind.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her reply.

“Nay, I daenae mind. Better ye than me to communicate with him. I am just hopin’ that I will never have to see him again.” She shuddered, and Cohen kissed her again, never wanting her to ever feel pain or fear from that man or any other.

He drew her close. “Ye will never have to worry about him, Arya. Ye will be safe with me. Always. I shall…care for ye always.” He rolled his eyes at himself, damning his fear to share his feelings with her.

But she didn’t seem to mind, trailing her finger down his chest. “I ken it, Cohen,” she replied. “Ye have always made me feel safe. I daenae think that there is anyone else I would have trusted enough to run away from home with.”

He chuckled. “Ye wouldnae have chosen anyone who was in the dungeon with ye that day?”

She looked up at him and shook her head.

“Ye were different. I could tell. I couldnae take me eyes off ye, and I kenned that there was somethin’ special ye had.

It is hard tae explain,” she said, pulling her hand away.

But Cohen grasped it and brought her wrist to his lips again, laying a soft kiss on the delicate flesh.

“Now,” she said, “What is this about the somethin’ ye should like tae eat more?”

He laughed again before rolling her beneath him and beginning to kiss down her body. “I shall be happy to show ye, Lady Sinclair.”

Arya’s body was deliciously sore, and even though it didn’t help much riding upon her horse in the woods, she wouldn’t have traded the moment for anything else in the world.

She was a married woman, married to a man whom she loved dearly, and who made her feel safe and special.

And she was out hunting with him, just the two of them.

She had thought to mention the foolishness of the venture, but she didn’t want to spoil it.

Besides, we are married now. What can happen?

Cohen grinned as his horse moved next to her. “I should like to see ye shoot somethin’ again, Arya. What will ye have for yer prey today, I wonder?”

Giggling, she pulled out her bow and shrugged. “I daenae ken just yet, but I should like to bring back a great boar and look upon the surprised faces of yer men.”

“I think they are all suitably impressed. Yer catch made Malcolm smile! Smile! It was so shockin’, I nearly fainted.”

“Malcolm? The man who wished to put me in yer dungeons the first night I arrived here?” Arya asked with surprise.

“Aye, the same. But now he wouldnae dare touch a hair on yer head. And he thinks ye an excellent shot.”

Arya quieted him with a touch on his arm.

“Look there,” she whispered, pointing to a cluster of pine trees, the bottoms of which were rustling.

She set an arrow in her bow and narrowed her eyes.

They both waited quietly until two quails scuttled out from underneath the undergrowth, and smiling, Arya set her arrow singing toward one of them.

It hit its mark, and when she loaded her arrow again, she was quick enough to get the second quail as well. She turned to face Cohen, and a warm desire prickled from her head to her toes. He was watching her with unfiltered surprise and tenderness.

“That was perfect, Arya. I completely underestimated ye. Will ye let me apologize to ye again about nae lettin’ ye come on the hunt with me?”

She lifted a brow, and her lips curled up in a teasing manner.

“I will most certainly let ye apologize, Cohen. I think that I will let ye apologize very many times throughout our marriage.” The word sent a new thrill to her very bones.

“But I think that it is possible ye may make yer apology with action, rather than words.”

He grinned as she pulled on his tunic, bringing him closer and kissing him as they balanced on their horses. Cohen’s rough hand lifted to her cheek and spread a thumb across her skin, sending shivers through her.

“Arya,” he whispered breathlessly against her lips. She slipped a hand around his neck, keeping him close to her. “Arya, there is somethin’ I have to tell ye.”

“What is it?” she asked, a little breathless herself. Every muscle in her body was at attention, tightened, ready to have him hold her again and bring her to pleasure.

“I—” he began, when she heard the sing of an arrow in the air, and the cry of pain as Cohen nearly fell off his horse. He stayed on, however, with his one arm, and she saw that his other arm had an arrow buried into it.

“Bloody Hell,” he groaned.

Shocked Arya said, “Cohen!” but then the sound of another arrow whizzing got her attention, and she felt it slide past her hair, ruffling it a little.

“We have to go,” she said grimly, reaching for the reins of his horse while he grimaced in pain, trying to clutch his free hand to his arm to stem the bleeding.

“Aye.”

“Hold tightly, Cohen,” she said and kicked at Sàbhailte to hurry out of the woods. The mare followed Arya’s actions, and soon, the two horses were racing back toward the castle.

Arya set her teeth, sneaking glances at a pained Cohen as they rode, afraid that the shooter would race after them as well. Who could it be? An errant hunter?

She had a deep, dark feeling, but she didn’t want to give voice to it.

Not yet. If she did, then her fear might take over her and choke her, just as she had been gaining confidence and happiness in her life.

She whispered a ‘Thank God’ to herself when they reached the gates to the keep, and she jumped down, calling to the guards.

“The Laird is injured! Help him from his horse and send for the healer!” Her heart was racing as she jumped down and handed Sàbhailte’s reins to another waiting guard.

It took two men to help Cohen down from his horse, and he was wincing with pain as he walked through the gates.

Arya walked next to him, her hands itching to touch him and bring him close, keep him safe.

This was the second time someone had tried to kill Cohen, and she knew what he was going to say before he even turned to say it to her.

“We should nae have gone out today, Lass,” he said, sweating a little.

The arrow was buried deep. “Yer message may have nae reached yer faither yet or perhaps it did, and this is simply his way of retaliation. I think that he has come back for ye.”

Arya wished she could seal the gates and keep her father away from her and her new husband for good. But she knew that she was not that lucky.