Read Finding My Highlander Online

Authors: Aleigha Siron

Finding My Highlander (5 page)

BOOK: Finding My Highlander
8.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Andra grabbed her satchel and moved to the shadows at the back of the cave for privacy. Her thoughts strayed to their earlier encounter by the pool and a hot quiver ran through her. She looked back to assure herself he wasn’t watching her.

Dark-blond hair tumbled loosely around his head and fell below his nape onto a strong, straight back. He sat facing the entrance like a glorious, marble statue, all muscle, and power. Quickly pulling on dry clothes, she shook her head to clear the rising, irrational, and very heated thoughts.

 

Chapter Seven

 

Kendrick went out of the cave periodically while Andra kept the fire banked and tended his brother. Several hours passed in relative quiet. Lorne drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally opening his eyes and sipping water. He’d thank her with a cracked moan or grunt and then drift away. Andra managed to get him to swallow a few more of her medicinal tablets and took a few herself. Kendrick kept an eye on her but discerned nothing further from her behavior. He decided to try again.

“Lass, what can you tell me about yourself that might help me understand how we found you alone in the wilderness?”

Her cheeks puffed and she blew out a frustrated gust of air. “Honestly, I wish I could explain that to myself but I simply can’t.” She paused and lifted a cup, “I’ve made some tea with a spot of whisky for Lorne. Would you care for a cup?”

“You’re changing the subject, Andra. And where did you acquire this tea?”

“No. I’m not changing the subject. I brought a small amount of tea with me, and frankly, there is precious little of it left. I’m simply offering to share as a prelude to relaxed conversation. I call this my ‘hot toddy’, Lorne and the others seem to enjoy it.”

Kendrick raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, I’ll accept, but I still want you to answer my questions.”

“Fine, ask away.” She smiled sweetly and handed him the cup.

“Well, your clothing is rather—unusual. Where did you come by them?”

“My clothes? What’s wrong with my clothes?” Her hands splayed at her sides. She looked down at her garments. An exasperated sound escaped her pouting lips, but she didn’t comment further.

“They are—revealing,” Kendrick responded. His eyebrows arched sharply. “Some might think scandalous.”

“Oh? Revealing?” She looked down again. Little worry lines creased the bridge of her nose. Regardless of any explanation she might give, he could not imagine her clothing an acceptable mode of dress anywhere.

“I am well covered, nothing is revealed. They are my travel clothes. As I said, my father and I traveled to many lands, even to the far East.”

The way the fabric clung to her rounded curves left little to the imagination. He needn’t engage his imagination anyway because she’d already fully revealed her lush body, though not intentionally. His strong attraction to her warned him not to linger on those images. Continued questions regarding her state of dress and appearance would only result in firing his desire, so he redirected. “You’ve been to the land of the Saracens?”

A blank expression confirmed his suspicions. She was attempting to fabricate a story. He held up his hand struggling to control his anger. “Nae, dinnae say it if you cannae speak the truth.”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know myself,” she blurted testily. “I’ve already explained my travels with my father.” Turning in a piqued flounce, she busied herself tending to Lorne and tidying the area, completely ignoring his presence. It took every reserve of patience not to grab her shoulders and shake the daylights out of her. Yet something told him if he grabbed her, it would not be to extract information, so he stepped away.

* * *

Twilight descended too quickly. Struan and Rabbie had yet to return. Was this a good or bad sign? How long did a reconnaissance mission take? Kendrick had grown ever more vigilant and followed her to the entrance of the cave whenever she went out to tend to personal matters.

“You know, I am quite capable of going beyond those trees and boulders to attend my needs without your supervision. I’ll not run off into the night. Where could I go when I don’t know where I am?” She goaded him, but could not stop herself.

He gazed at a point beyond her shoulder with an implacable face, and then turned his dark, penetrating eyes on her. She flinched slightly, but covered it with a thrust of her chin and returned his stare. He wouldn’t best her in this staring contest, no matter how formidable his expressions.

As usual, she broke first, “Are you concerned for Struan and Rabbie? Should they have returned by now?”

He scanned her hair, her face, settling on her lips a bit longer, and then his eyes raked down her body. His scrutiny did not reveal any of the earlier humor she’d detected. Why did he feel the need to intimidate her with his stern regard or more likely, lustful appraisal? She squared her shoulders, readying for another onslaught of intimidation.

His expression suggested he didn’t miss her challenge, which only seemed to pique his interest further. “They are warriors,” he said, “quite capable of handling themselves. I’ll go hunt a rabbit or game for our dinner. Lorne needs fortifying broth if he’s to gain his strength. We must ride from here soon. ‘Tis not wise to linger long in this location.” His words were clipped and abrupt.

She wanted to ask why staying there was a bad idea, but decided against it. Despite what he’d said, he didn’t move but returned his attention to her. Tension rippled over his body as though he battled some internal dispute. Finally, he snatched the horse’s reins and started to pass by her. With a light touch to his forearm, she halted him. A rock-hard bicep flexed under the pressure of her fingers and heat shot through her hand.

“You won’t be gone long?” She hated the tremor in her voice.

“Nae, not long.” He started to pull away, but she clutched his arm more tightly.

Eyeing a bow and quiver of arrows strapped to his saddle, she dipped her chin to them. “Could you leave me that bow and arrows? Just in case.” A cool breeze blew between the boulders at the entrance carrying the smell of rain.

“Nae, I will not. You have your
sgian dubh
in yon bag. I’ll not provide you with weapons to shoot us down on our return. You’ll be safe. I’ll conceal the entrance with the brush and tree branches when I leave.”

She snapped her hand away and flashed a furious frown at him. How dare he accuse her of being a threat? Hadn’t she been helping in every way possible? She had tended his wounded brother with the same care she might extend her own brother, if she had one. Obviously, she should hold her tongue because if she were in his position she wouldn’t trust him either, but she lashed out anyway.

“So you won’t give me a weapon for our defense but you’ll entrust me with the care of your brother. How can I protect us if someone comes? What if his condition worsens, and I need your help?” Her voice escalated in pitch from anger and more than a touch of fear. “Perhaps I should just run off, leave the lot of you to your own devices?” An empty threat to be sure.

“Why do you constantly challenge and defy me?” A scowl deepened the lines on his forehead. It was obvious he was not accustomed to anyone, especially a woman, a Sassenach no less, questioning his commands. If he thought she had been challenging so far, an even bigger surprise awaited when she found a way to return home. On the other hand, based on current circumstances, she’d more than likely be the one surprised. Shocked to her toes, no doubt.

He gripped her shoulder with a firm hand. “You’ll be staying here tending to Lorne as I instruct you. God help you if any harm befalls him. Do you understand me, Andra?” His fingers bit into her shoulder as he gave a firm, warning shake. She didn’t think he meant her any harm, but she was tired, aggravated, and frightened, which she certainly would not admit to him.

She lifted her face to his in defiance, fire meeting fire; a conflagration exploded between them. She would not be cowed and stood her ground, trying desperately to conceal her trembling. Before either of them turned away his hand moved to the back of her head, his lips crushed onto hers, his tongue probed her mouth and God help her, she returned his kiss with her own ferocity as he pulled her more tightly against the hard planes of his chest.

She clutched his shoulders to steady herself. The intensity of their encounter was a revelation, one she’d best not examine too closely. Reluctantly, she pushed him away, urging herself toward some modicum of control. Neither one of them spoke. She felt adrift when his hand dropped away. Cool evening air doused the heat between them.

His gaze strayed to her mouth. In response, she parted her lips, still wet from his probing. She licked the strange taste of whisky and mint left there from his kiss, and his eyes darkened under heavy lids. Swiftly, he moved out of the cave, threw the brush across the entrance, and left without another word.

Andra wrapped her arms around her middle and watched him disappear into the blackness. Suddenly her world felt very empty.

Lorne coughed roughly, drawing Andra’s attention from the blistering confusion of her emotions. “You’re awake. Do you think you can take a bit of tea?” She had a few herbal tea bags in her case. Her trusty, well-packed case carried a wealth of things she would sorely miss once those supplies disappeared, should she fail to find a way out of this era. No! She could not allow her thoughts to dwell on that problem; it required enough fortitude just to get by hour to hour.

With a gravelly voice unused for the past few days, Lorne asked, “So, I was nae dreaming, I really did see a spirited water sprite take my brother in hand. How long have I been unconscious? It seems I’ve missed some interesting entanglements.” He laughed, which caused another harsh spat of coughing.

“Rest your voice for a minute. I’ll fix you a cup of reviving tea.” Andra smiled as she searched inside her bag.

“Och, lass, tea is nae a fit drink for an injured man.” He croaked out of parched lips. “Bring me yon flask. A bit of the
uisge beatha
is what I’m need’n.”

She did as he bade but also filled a cup with hot water from the pot over the fire and steeped the tea bag. Lorne needed as much fluid replenishment as possible. It couldn’t hurt to add a drop of whisky to the tea if it would encourage him to drink. She even relinquished one of her precious packets of honey and voila, she’d made a traditional hot toddy. She sipped it first to gage the temperature and then helped Lorne lean his back against her so he could sip the concoction.

“Mmm, my fiery sprite, ‘tis just what my weary bones be need’n. The angels’ brew to be certain.” He continued sipping and examined Andra with curious eyes. “Well now, who are you and how do you be kenning my brother? He seems quite smitten. ‘Tis an uncommon state for our usually stern, reserved laird. He prefers distance and rarely looks on a lass with such—interest.” He paused and leaned against her, his eyes closed.

She thought he’d fallen asleep again and moved to place him back on his pallet when he clutched her wrist. “Your name? Or should I continue to call you Sprite?” He turned slightly so he could see her face; his expression betrayed a hint of humor. His eyes, a lighter shade of blue than his brother’s, turned just as penetrating when he focused his attention on her.

It seemed he’d observed quite a lot in his moments of lucidity. Including that embarrassing moment when she flipped Kendrick into the pool and ran from the cave in a near naked state. Was there to be no end to her self-inflicted mortification?

She moved from behind him to stoke the fire. “My name’s Andra.” When she turned, his intense scrutiny and furrowed brow suggested a barrage of unspoken questions.

“And you are a Sassenach?” He flicked his fingers toward her hands. “Would it be Lady Andra, then, and what would be your family’s name?”

She looked at the rings on her fingers and felt a deep pang of loss for her parents. “It’s a long story for another time. Right now, you need to finish that drink and take a few more of these tablets. Let us see if we can rest a while, and we’ll have that chat later.” Leaning on his elbows, he finished the tea while watching her with eyes stark with pain. When he fell back, she pulled the covers snugly around Lorne and returned to her own pallet by the fire.

“I think ‘tis an enchanting story you have to tell, Sprite,” he said in a tired, weary voice. “I look forward to learning all your secrets, and the secrets between you and my brother. I’m verra good at uncovering secrets, you ken.” Closing his eyes, he drifted into a deep sleep, the first restful state she had seen him in since the beginning of this madness.

Andra lay in the dark, staring at the burning coals. Everything was happening too quickly. Why she was reacting with such heated passion to Kendrick, a man from over three hundred years in her past about whom she knew nothing?

That wasn’t true. She’d witnessed his concern for his brother, and on occasion a flash of humor, although he tried to conceal it under all that lairdly bluster. He’d been extraordinarily kind to her under the circumstances. His roguish appearance and strong physique appealed to her. She also knew he did not trust her one wit.

The blatant desire that flared between them when his lips had touched hers before he left still rattled her. It was so out of character for her to fall head over heels for a man she barely knew. For any man, actually. This sense of freefall baffled her. What could explain her bizarre behavior?
She wouldn’t even try to analyze Kendrick’s reactions to her.

Had it only been two days since her slip through time?
It felt like weeks.
Did time accelerate when you pierced that mystifying veil?

“Well, out of time, out of character, I suppose. Oh, God I am losing my mind,” she whispered to the chill air.

 

BOOK: Finding My Highlander
8.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Sleeping Beauties by Miles, Tamela
The Shattered Goddess by Darrell Schweitzer
Amy & Roger's Epic Detour by Morgan Matson
Black Silk by Sharon Page
Walking on Water: A Novel by Richard Paul Evans
Last Stork Summer by Surber, Mary Brigid