Page 14 of Ruining a Highland Healer
But why would he go to such lengths to trap her? He already had her; her father had given her to him, and all he had to dowas wed her in a proper ceremony in order for him to bind them together for the rest of their lives. He didn’t need to fool her; he already had the upper hand.
Though reluctantly, she gave Torrin a small nod. "Alright," she said. "But under one condition."
"Let us hear it," said Torrin.
"Ye willnae touch me."
Much to her ire, Torrin laughed; a loud, sudden laugh that was bright and amused and seemed to fill up the whole path.
Valora glared at the darkness ahead in silence, waiting for him to stop laughing so she could ask him just what it was that seemed so funny to him. When he finally composed himself, though, Torrin looked at her from the side and gave her a small shrug.
"I’ll only touch ye if ye ask me fer it."
Valora let out a scandalized gasp, clutching at her chest. "I will dae nay such thing! I will never ask ye tae touch me!"
Who did Torrin think she was? Valora was a lady, one who had remained pure her whole life, in fact, and who had not even shared her first kiss. If Torrin thought she would succumb to the desires of the flesh, then he was sorely mistaken.
"If ye say so," said Torrin, sounding awfully certain of himself, though in Valora’s opinion, it was for no good reason. She knew, of course, that if fate made it so that they wedded and remained together, she would eventually have to sire his heirs, but that didn’t mean she would ever ask for his touch—or even desire it. It was presumptuous of him to think she would.
For a moment, Valora observed Torrin over her shoulder, taking in the sharp line of his jaw under his short stubble, the regal, high forehead and the strong brows that framed his gray eyes, the slightly crooked nose that looked as though he had broken it in a fight. He was a handsome man, there was no doubt about it; more so than any other man she had seen at the ball, and Valora had the sneaking suspicion that he, too, was aware of it, though he didn’t appear cocky about it.
Still, none of that meant Valora would suddenly develop a burning desire for him—no matter what the tight clenching of her stomach may be suggesting, as the two of them stared at each other in a challenge, waiting to see who would back down first.
As the wind blew past them, Valora couldn’t help but shiver in the chill. Behind her, Torrin shielded her from the worst of it, but she was getting the brunt of it, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.
Only a few moments later, Torrin brought the horse to a halt once more, and Valora frowned, turning her head to ask him what he was doing. She didn’t have time to question him,though, before he unclasped his cloak and draped it over her own, pinning it over her shoulders.
Then, he continued to ride as though nothing had happened.
Valora sat there on the saddle, stunned by the simple gesture of care. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated her with such care other than her sister, and the gesture left her both speechless and breathless. It seemed meaningless to Torrin, who never even spoke a word about it or asked her if she was cold—he simply observed it and fixed it, without Valora having to say anything. And that, more than anything else, surprised her.
Warmth pooled in her chest—a warmth that had nothing to do with the cloaks on her shoulders. And for a moment, however brief, she thought that perhaps the man behind her was not so bad, after all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The moment Torrin was on Clan Gunn soil, he could breathe a little easier. There, there was no chance that Keith men would follow, not if they valued their lives, and so he could relax and ride the rest of the way without looking over his shoulder every few minutes, trying to make sure there was no one behind them.
This was his home; these were his lands, which he knew like the back of his hand, from one end to the other. Even in the dark, he could find his way without looking, without searching.
Torrin rode along the cliffs to the sound of the waves below. The sea crashed against the rocky side, the water meeting the jagged edges and flat plateaus of the cliffside formation, gathering in small pools on the rocks, drenching the cliffside. There, the wind howled around them, the land bare of trees. The only living thing was the grass, tall and swaying, resembling the waves below.
In the distance, Halberry Castle stood on the rocky promontory, overlooking the North Sea. Torrin could see its familiar shapeoutlined in the moonlight—the keep, the turrets, the towering curtain walls that kept it safe. He would never tire of this sight; every time he returned home, even from a short trip, seeing the castle come into view gave him a sense of peace.
All this time, Valora had remained quiet, the two of them not exchanging a single word. Still, she did not speak, even as they neared the castle and eventually headed inside, past the curtain walls. Instead of going through the main gates, though, Torrin chose a side passage—the one he knew Noah would have prepared for him, so that he and Valora could make it inside undetected by most of the people in the castle.
"Welcome, me laird," said a soldier—a young man with sandy hair and intelligent brown eyes named Colin. Even as Torrin helped Valora off the horse, the man hardly even looked at her, too discreet to do so.
"Good evenin’, Colin," Torrin told the man, and noticed that Valora looked at him perplexed as he said the name. "Make sure the lass is fed an’ watered. She had a rough travel."
"O’ course, me laird," said Colin. Once his mare was taken care of, Torrin gestured to Valora to follow him, and then led her through a side door inside the keep. The corridor in which they found themselves was a narrow one, the ceiling short and the walls a little damp, illuminated by a few scant torches that Noah had undoubtedly had lit before they arrived. He was proactive like that—the only man Torrin trusted to get any job done to perfection.
Finally, Valora broke her silence. "Dae ye ken the names of all yer men?"
Torrin blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Most of them, aye. They’re me men—ready tae give their lives fer me and the clan. The least I can dae is honor them by learning their names and making sure I’ve met their families."
The answer seemed to startle her. He caught the flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or disbelief.
"Me faither never spoke a name but mine and me sister’s," she said softly.
