Page 19 of Taken By the Highland Villain

No matter what he had to do, no matter what it took, hewouldbring Valerie to his castle. He would claim her as his wife.

And if anyone tried to stop him, whether it was Laird MacFinn, her sister’s brute of a husband, or Valerie herself, well…

I will burn the Highlands to ashes, along with her, everyone she loves, and everyone she kens, afore I allow anyone else to claim her.

CHAPTER 9

“It has beena long time since I last purchased that much fabric in one shopping trip. I usually only make one dress, or mayhap an outfit or two. I rarely get more than three or four skeins or spools of thread.”

Jude grunted as Valerie’s cheerful voice washed over him.

He still wasn’t sure why her encounter with Nathan Cullen had upset her so. He suspected it had something to do with the way the man had claimed she was his future bride, but her strange behavior made him wary of assuming anything too quickly.

She had stepped between him and Laird MacOlley. She hadn’t been angry at him for trying to defend her. It was the opposite, in fact. And she didn’t look at him with the softness of pity in her eyes. She had even teased him about how ‘fierce’ his beard made him look.

Jude frowned and lifted a hand to run it through his beard. The hair was tangled, sliding against his fingers before they caught in the knots and yanked painfully. He grimaced. He hadn’t attended to more than the basics of his grooming in some time, but he hadn’t thought it had beenthatlong.

“Are ye all right?” Valerie’s question caused him to drop his hand quickly.

“Aye.” Jude shifted his weight in the saddle.

His knee ached from the exertion of riding and walking through the market. Yet, even with the ache, the unpleasant encounter with Nathan, and the stares he’d received in the tavern, the day had been far more interesting and enjoyable than he’d expected. And certainly a change of pace from the long, dull stretches of time spent holed up in his castle, with nothing but Craig, Moira, and the shadows for company.

The sunshine… since the attack that had crippled him, he’d felt it would be too painful to face, a reminder of those he had lost. But that hadn’t happened, not today. Instead, his attention had been far too focused on Valerie to be drawn into the melancholy he’d feared would consume him.

“What would ye like me to make first? Some new kilts and tartans, or shirts and trews?”

Jude huffed. “Nay preference.”

Valerie scoffed at him. “Ye must have a preference. Do ye usually wear trews, leggings, or kilts when ye’re at home?”

Jude huffed and rolled his shoulders, dismissing the question. In truth, he had never cared what he wore, so long as it was comfortable and clean. Trews or kilts, he had no preference.

“Do ye have a pattern ye like best? I dinnae need one, but it helps me work faster.”

Jude shook his head. It wasn’t the sort of thing he was knowledgeable about. Moira would know and have the appropriate supplies, if there were any.

“I’m thinkin’ of starting with kilts. Though perhaps a larger project, like the curtains or the tapestries, would be better to begin with. They’re larger, but the curtains at least are far easier to make. And I’ll need to find a room to work in—somewhere with lots of light so I can see properly.”

Jude nodded absentmindedly. There were plenty of empty rooms in the castle. He was certain Moira or Craig could help Valerie find one that met her ideal working conditions.

“I was thinking that for the tapes?—”

A loudcrackcaused Jude to whip around, just before a heavy log came flying out of the wooded area to their left and crashed into the path right in front of Valerie’s horse. The animal reared in fright. Valerie cried out as she was thrown off the saddle.

Jude reacted, well-honed reflexes spurring him into action before he had time to consider as he dove off the horse. He landed hard, staggered on his bad leg, and used the momentum to push himself forward. Pain shot up his crippled limb, but he managed to catch Valerie in his arms as the two of them went crashing to the dirt.

Valerie gasped as she landed. She’d expected to hit dirt and cold, hard ground, and was braced for bruises and even broken bones. The last time she’d fallen from a horse, while out with her father, she’d been unable to use her shoulder for a week.

Instead, she landed on something firm but yielding, something warm that wrapped around her with a muffled grunt of pain. Her face burned hot as she realized that the firm surface was none other than Jude’s chest, and that her elbow was digging into his muscular midsection. His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her flush against his broad, strong chest in a way that was entirely too reminiscent of an embrace.

She tried to squirm free, but Jude only made a quiet shushing noise and pulled her closer, as if to keep her safe.

For a moment, they both lay there, waiting to see if anything else would fly out of the woods. Valerie tried to concentrate on their surroundings and on catching her breath, but it was difficult when she could feel every flex of Jude’s biceps and shoulders, and the rise and fall of his chest.

The sensation was… not as unpleasant as she’d thought it would be. Rather than feeling trapped, she felt almost safe, and there was a part of her that tingled with pleasure, to be wrapped in the arms of a man who was not treating her like a possession but someone precious, to be kept safe.

Then, Jude released her, his arms dropping to the dirt as he pushed up on his elbows and gave her an indecipherable look. “Morrigan’s breath…”