Page 6 of Forge of the Highlander’s Destiny

The image of Cohen in the bright daylight also came to her, and she realized he was far more handsome than he had looked in the dimness.

And he was much taller and bigger than she’d imagined.

Broad shoulders, wide chest, firm strong arms and legs.

His curly brown hair and brown beard were nearly auburn when the sun was shining upon it, and he had a bright, cheery smile when he had the chance to use it.

His eyes were also a wonderful brown mixed with green.

Like the Highland fields in a rainstorm.

He is dangerous. Keep yer distance, Lass. Ye have to make a plan for the future.

But then, there was a harsh knock on the door before it burst open, and Arya screamed, grasping up the towel on the side of the tub to stand up and wrap around herself.

Five men had entered the chamber, all warriors, all Cohen’s men no doubt. The first of them said, “Ye will come with us, Lass. We daenae ken who ye are, but we must protect the Laird.”

“Nay!” She cried. “It is I who saved him. Me! What are ye daein’?”

“The Laird cannae have anyone about him who is a stranger when a traitor lurks about. Ye will stay in the dungeons until we ken for sure.”

Arya’s heart thumped nervously as one of the guards grabbed her arm.

She screamed and pulled away so viciously that it surprised the man, and he let go before scowling and grabbing her again, nearly dislodging the towel that was precariously wrapped around her.

Before they could drag her out kicking and screaming, something she would never have done with her self-satisfied father’s guards, Cohen burst into the chamber, his large body practically filling the doorway.

She was suddenly very conscious of her near nakedness.

So was Cohen by the looks of it. His eyebrows jumped up when he saw her dressed as she was.

“What in the bloody Hell is goin’ on here?” he growled, looking at each of his men in turn. The men let go of Arya instantly, and she stood, tightening the towel, her face flaming. “Where is Malcolm?” Cohen asked, and one of the men stepped forward.

“Me Laird, he is the one who ordered us to take her down. He said we are to protect ye. Since we daenae ken who the traitor is.”

“Tell him that ‘tis nae this lass, and she is barely dressed! Shame on ye all.” He reached out for Arya, and Arya took his hand. “Return to yer posts. Tell Malcolm to speak to me in the morn. She will stay in me chamber.”

The guard who had spoken first looked like he wanted to protest, but he clamped his mouth shut at a glare from Cohen. They left, armor clinking, and Arya only then realized what Cohen’s solution was as they got closer to his door.

“Nay!” she hissed. “Why can I nae stay in me own chamber? Why do I have to stay with ye?”

“Get inside, Lass,” he said. “Daenae fight with me now.” He stared her down outside of his door, and she stomped inside, crossed her arms, and swung around to face him, her wet dark hair laying limply around her shoulders.

“How does this help anythin’? Yer men will think ye have brought a whore with ye. I have only a towel on!” She was furious, and even though she was grateful to Cohen for taking her with him, she didn’t like that she was being pushed around just as she was at home.

Arya had hoped that this was her first taste of freedom away from the force of men, but now it was just the same. At the same time, now that she’d seen how handsome he was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend a whole night with him in close quarters, especially being wet and only wearing a towel.

He locked the door behind them. “Think nae about what is in their minds. They are clearly mad, and I will speak to Malcolm in the morn about it. Ye will stay here.”

His eyes flashed, and it only made her more obstinate.

“I demand wine, then, and clothing. I had hoped to sit in the bath a little longer and drink wine and enjoy my new freedom. But it seems that I am to continue to be trapped.” Humphing, she stomped to a chair by the fire and sat, facing the flames.

Cohen let out a laugh. “Here, Lass,” he said, and she could hear the clink of glass as he poured her wine. He lifted her hand and put the glass in it. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

She gripped the wine cup and watched his handsome face frown as he shook his head. “That should nae have happened.” He was rumpled and tired looking as if he had just jumped out of bed and hastily thrust some clothing on.

“Thank ye,” she said before taking a sip, still feeling the fact that she was wearing only a towel. “Might I have some clothing, then?”

“Och, aye,” Cohen said, just about to sit down. He laughed nervously. “I forgot about that.”

Arya lifted a teasing brow, making him laugh even louder.

“Nae like that,” he said and went to the far edge of the chamber where a wardrobe stood.

A tub of water was also there as if he too had recently finished bathing.

She watched him as he pulled out a long, warm tunic from the wardrobe and brought it to her.

“Turn around,” she said sharply.

He sighed, doing as she asked. She waited a few seconds to make sure that she could still see his back and then she dropped the towel, pulling the tunic over her head.

“Ye ken we wouldnae have to do this if ye would simply let me stay in me own chamber.”

“Out of the question, Lass. I would prefer to nae have to wake in the middle of slumber again to come and save ye.”

“Come and save ye?” she spluttered in disbelief. “How dare ye say it like that? Why, ye are just as bad as the rest of them.”

Now that her tunic was on and long enough to reach well past her waist, she gulped down the rest of her wine, stomped loudly to the bed, and slid inside. “And daenae think for a moment ye will be laying here with me.”

Cohen held up his hands again. “Ye must calm yerself. Ye are stayin’ here for yer own safety. I will lay on the floor so that ye can be more comfortable.”

Arya softened, frustrated that he made her so angry and flustered while he was calmness itself. Taking a pillow and one of the blankets, he set himself up on the floor, and he leaned back, his head in his hands.

Arya moved to the side of the bed and propped her head on her elbow watching him.

His eyes were closed, so she could look her fill.

The fire was still bright enough to see the muscled lines of his arms, and the way his wide chest filled out his tunic.

He certainly looked like a laird, but he had a kindness to him that no laird she’d met had ever had. Her father most certainly didn’t.

She lay like that for several minutes, watching him, feeling ever so slightly guilty at making him sleep on the cold floor. “What are ye lookin’ at, Lass?” Cohen said suddenly, and she gasped, turning to lie flat against her own pillow and clamp her eyes shut tight.

She swallowed hard, not sure what was wrong with her that she would stare openly at a man, especially while he was still awake! Taking a breath, she decided to repay his kindness to her. “Ye may come and sleep up here. It must be frozen there on the floor. We will just put pillows between us.”

“Pillows, eh?” he chuckled.

“Aye. Pillows.”

“I am nae so weak. I was just living in a cell and sleeping on stone floors for a few days.”

Arya felt a smile come to her lips, but she didn’t let him see it. In a sharp tone, she said. “Are ye comin’ or nae?”

After a few seconds, Cohen got up and walked to the other side of the bed.

She began to pile pillows between them, making sure not to look at him too closely, or he’d see her face flaming red.

He slid inside under the covers once her pillow wall was complete.

It seemed like only seconds later that she fell asleep.