Page 40 of The Torment of a Scottish Warrior
“I don’t mind.”
He kissed her, and she leaned into him, sighing, parting her lips so his tongue could duel with hers, something she loved. Every time this man kissed her, sensations traveled through her that were so foreign, yet so delicious, that she never wanted the kiss to end.
They were interrupted by a cough and then Alaric, chuckling, came toward them as they separated. He clasped Broc’s shoulder and said, “I had no idea you cut off her hand, but the bitch will never forget you, will she?”
“I’m just grateful to see Logan on his feet again,” Broc said. “He’s even been cursing out Aunt Brenna. Now I know he feels better.”
“Maitland and Dyna will strategize here while you’re gone. We’ll all try to decide the best way to attack these fools. It’s good to have Micheil of Drummond here. He will offer a differentpoint of view, I believe. But Godspeed and take care of the pretty lass on the horse next to you.” Alaric smiled at Merryn.
“She’s riding with me. Thane insisted. If we need another horse, we can use one of his.”
Alaric left with a wave and Broc spun around to Merryn. “You don’t mind, do you? Thane suggested we need to make as small an imprint as possible. He wasn’t certain how skilled you were at guiding horses in the forest. How do you feel about it?”
“I think I would be wiser to ride with you. I didn’t ride often, and I rode ponies many times. Not big stallions like this one.”
Broc laughed, giving his horse a squeeze. “Midnight Majesty is a fine beast. We’ll do well. Come, let’s ready ourselves.” He took the reins and led the horse out of the stable.
Merryn was even more excited now. She feared riding her own horse, so riding with Broc was perfect. They’d be able to chat more, for certain.
Broc attached two bows and quivers, just in case they needed them. “Will you be comfortable shooting? You may have to.”
Merryn’s smile left her face, thoughts of Kelvan and wee Shealee dominating her mind instead of the man next to her. Images of Nara’s face when the sword went through her belly would never leave her.
Ever.
“Just give me the chance, and I’ll put an arrow in his heart. Shealee needs to come home.”
She had to pray they would get the opportunity to do just that.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Simone
Simone lay on the white sands of the northern side of Iona when she heard the sound that was as sweet as a full colony of puffins in spring.
“Greetings, husband dearest,” she called out to him, donning her tunic and running over to where he’d come across the isle. “I was not expecting you. Is something wrong?”
Artan grabbed Simone by the waist and tugged her close, kissing her soundly, something she needed as assurance that he was all right. But then he set her aside and took a step back.
Something she didn’t like.
“What is it?”
“Your sire was struck down by …”
“What? You should have told me that first!”
“Now hold on, love of mine. He’s hale. Brenna and Micheil are also here. He’s holding up so far. But two days after his attack, another group was taken captive, and I thought you should know. Shealee is one of them.”
“And Merryn too?”
“Nay, Merryn is fine. Tristan is at Duart Castle. And by the way, Merryn has met someone. Broc MacNicol? Know you of him?”
“Aye. He would be Kyla’s son. He’ll protect her, fear not. And he’ll go after the bastards who kidnapped the wee ones.” Simone gathered her things as quickly as she could, leading the way back to their small hut on the other end of the isle. “Keep talking. I’m listening. How did you hear of this?”
“Thane sent one of the guards back as soon as Logan was injured, so I was on my way, but then a second messenger came along to let us know that the bairns were kidnapped again.”
“I’ve got to find this bastard myself. Artan, I’m going after them. I will not allow the man who killed his own wife to kill their daughter.”
