Page 9 of The Highlander’s Virgin Nun (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #2)

CHAPTER NINE

“W here the hell do ye think ye’re goin’?”

Rosaline turned her head eventually, having initially closed her eyes and dipped her chin to her chest, fearing a familiar whack on the back of the head or some other painful injury that the nuns had inflicted on her so many times. Back in the present, she expected to see a guard restraining her under command to keep her confined to the castle. She did not expect to see Caelan himself pulling her back, furious.

“I…” she stuttered, struggling to keep the fear from her voice. “I was just goin’ to send a letter.”

Seeing the frustration on his face, Rosaline reminded herself that she had not sold her soul to him. She had promised to marry him in exchange for his help, not become his slave. She yanked her arm free from his grasp, turned back towards the outpost beyond, and took another step towards it. But she got no further.

This time, Caelan’s hands landed on her waist and her opposite shoulder, his arm curling around her torso, spinning her back towards him. He pulled her closer this time, restraining her in a firm embrace.

“I didnae give ye permission to send a letter, bunny.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow and marching her back towards the castle. His strength moved her body, but did not cause pain.

Rosaline grew angry at his attitude. He was demeaning her, controlling her while trying to be playful. Is this how he expected marriage to be?

She would not be his victim and his playmate. He had to pick one.

“I am sendin’ a letter to me braither, tellin’ him where I am and that I am to marry. I dinnae need yer permission to do that.”

Rosaline kept her letter behind her back, out of his reach. She did not want him to see her brother’s name. She had heard nothing from him in years, despite the horror she had gone through at the convent. Maybe he no longer cared about her or had forgotten about her entirely.

If Caelan knew who he was, he might seek him out. If her brother was going to ignore her, Rosaline wanted that to remain between them.

“Ye most certainly do.”

* * *

“I am nae yer puppet,” Rosaline huffed.

Caelan could not deny that he was enjoying the tension of their encounter. It was imperative that letters did not leave his clan without inspection and through the right channels. But the fact that her attempt allowed him to pull her this close, even if it was to restrain her, excited him.

“Really? I thought I just hadnae found yer strings yet,” he snickered.

She rolled her eyes, and he drank in the gesture. He loosened his grip ever so slightly and noticed she did not immediately step out of his embrace.

“One day in and ye’re already sick of me?” he teased.

“Ye’re handlin’ me like livestock,” she retorted.

Her voice had dropped, but her eyes held his, the look in them intense. Her determination not to break her stare showed her bravery and confidence. She could bite, and he liked it.

“Ye dinnae listen to instructions very well, so sometimes I have to show ye. Physically.”

“Maybe ye need to give us some control. Maybe yer Lairdship has turned ye into a tyrant who tries to maneuver everyone around him.”

He chuckled darkly. While the Lairdship certainly implied control and authority, it was not something he wished to do any more than he had to. But he was enjoying playing with her.

“Maybe ye would enjoy someone else in control, to let ye relax and be guided.”

Her gaze hardened, and her mouth snapped shut. She breathed in deeply through her nose and lifted her chin, standing taller with their bodies pressed against one another. Her hands remained behind her back, refusing to touch him but also refusing to fight him.

She was showing him that no matter who he intended to be with her, she would not be a meager plaything.

Her strength and resilience were undeniably attractive, and Caelan could resist temptation no longer. Lowering a hand from her arm, he trailed his fingers over her shoulder, collarbone and neck, until he reached her jawline, curling his fingers underneath and around the back of her neck. Without forcing her, he kissed her deeply, passionately.

Her lips were warm and soft. He felt the satisfaction he had been hoping for, desperate to unite with her, to touch her intimately. He instantly felt more attracted to her than he had been before as he tasted her.

He was relieved when he felt her kiss him back. She did not melt in his hands or drop her weight onto him. She remained tall and strong, but her lips parted beneath his, and she allowed herself to succumb to the temptation he had hoped she felt, too.

He felt her heartbeat rise to the veins in her neck, fluttering against his hand. His hands itched to pull her even closer and explore more, but he restrained himself.

His body was alight with sensation, turned on by her touch, but before he could explore any more of her, she suddenly pulled away.

“Ye cannae demand that I do anythin’ ye say and then kiss me,” she threw at him. “What kind of man forces a woman to want him? I willnae be yer toy.”

He dropped his head, disappointed that he had allowed her to say that, but knowing she suspected him to be better than that. Still, he was elated by the kiss.

“Ye arenae. I dinnae intend to force ye to want me. I dinnae even ask ye to want me.”

She breathed through her frustration, trying to regain her composure, now a few steps away from him.

“Why will ye nae allow me to send a letter?” It was a question, but her tone held a command.

Caelan took a deep breath, realizing that he was going to have to explain his situation to her. This woman would stand for no less than the truth, and he suspected that if he tried to lie or fabricate a story, she would see straight through it.

“All right.” He succumbed to her push for clarity. “There are a lot of people after me. Those men ye saw me battlin’ in the forest werenae the first to do so. It has become a regular occurrence since me faither died. Everywhere I go, nay matter how secretive I am about me movements, a new battalion of men find me and try to kill me.”

Rosaline looked confused, but her attention was solely focused on him. She was listening, and her silence told him to continue.

“I dinnae ken why or where they come from. This is what Jayden and I have been tryin’ to work out for months now.”

“And they swallow the poison so that ye cannae even torture answers out of them,” Rosaline concluded.

She was clever.

“Exactly. Regardless, we have to be careful about everythin’ we do. Letters cannae be sent through messengers on horseback with mail sacks. They are easily spotted and intercepted. I have a few select people who send letters—those I trust—and yers will have to go through the same channels. If yer letter confirms that ye will be marryin’ me in seven days, then anyone could ken where I will be in seven days. I have to be very careful.”

Caelan felt almost relieved to have explained his situation to her, or at least a part of it. He realized now that she was part of his situation. He had made her be. The dangers that faced him would face her. He needed to marry her and sire an heir with her because of the threats against him, so she was now very much involved. It was only fair, and necessary, that she understood why, so she would take the appropriate precautions for her safety and his.

“So, that battle in the clearin’…” she murmured. “Ye fought battles like that before?”

“How else did ye think I became such a monster?”

Rosaline inclined her head, and he finally saw a little compassion in her eyes. While he had not been looking for it, he now felt that it was something he had desired from her, as selfish as that might be.

“I have kenned real monsters. Ye arenae one of them.”

Her words took his breath away.

Immediately, he recalled her last night asleep in her bed, tossing and turning, trapped in a nightmare. He recalled the word that had left her mouth— monster . He had not consciously intended to label himself as such, but perhaps his mind had been working against him. While she had remained asleep, unaware of his presence, he might have kept the label for himself.

Sadly, this confirmed that she had suffered worse than him before. He wanted to know more, to coax the information he was missing out of her. Who had been so cruel to her, what had she been through, and how could he right that wrong?

But he could see from her eyes and posture that what she had given him would have to do. She did not trust him enough to divulge any more. He had to respect that.

“Ye’ve seen me kill people,” he said instead.

He felt that the violence she had witnessed had to be spoken aloud. Otherwise, it would hang between them and blur their view of one another.

“Defendin’ oneself doesnae make ye a monster.”

Her words soothed him. He appreciated her and her view of him.

The sincerity of her words stirred his desire for her. His body, still hot from the kiss, ached for more, so his hands reached out once more and curled around her waist. His fingers traced the hem where her skirt met her bodice, and he pulled her back towards him, slowly this time.

With her body pressed up against his once more, she softened. She did not resist him at all, allowing his warmth to seep into her, her eyes still locked onto his.

“Ye’re wrong,” he whispered, his words now trickling across her cheek and directly into her ear. “I am a monster., and I intend to have ye.”