Page 25 of The Highlander's Runaway Nun
“Come, lass,” he said gently. “Let’s leave the water be. The shore is a fine place to watch, but nae to touch just now.”
Laura nodded faintly, though every part of her wished to argue. Still, she allowed him to guide her back from the waves, her shoes dangling forgotten in her hand. The waves roared behind them, wild and untamed, and she could not help but feel it mirrored her heart. Her steps were steady, but her spirit was in turmoil.
As they walked side by side, Laura’s thoughts drifted once more to her own conflict. His protectiveness unsettled her, yet it also stirred a warmth that frightened her more than the cold water ever could. She had prayed for clarity, but instead her heart only tangled itself further in knots.
And though she wished to turn away from him, she could not deny that his presence pulled her in as surely as the tide pulled the water.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
As Laura walked beside Bradley, her steps were light on the path, though her heart weighed heavily. The castle loomed in the distance, its dark stones outlined against the pale sky. Her brow furrowed as thoughts tangled in her mind, fighting for order and sense. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding the glances she felt he cast at her.
“Ye’ve nae said a word,” Bradley rumbled, his voice sharp with curiosity. “What thoughts are twistin’ in that head of yers, lass?” His stride never faltered, yet his tone carried an edge. “Tell me what gnaws at ye.”
Laura lifted her chin, heat rising in her cheeks. “It’s ye that gnaws at me, Bradley,” she said boldly. “One moment ye’re a brute, swingin’ yer sword with blood on yer hands, and the next ye’re fussin’ like an old nursemaid over me catchin’ a chill from the shore. Ye drive me mad with yer ways.” Her voice trembled, half with anger, half with confusion.
His dark eyes flashed as he stopped in his tracks. “Mad, ye say?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Then ken this, lass, ye drive me mad as well, but nae with anger. It’s desire that burns through me veins whenever ye’re near.” His chest rose and fell sharply, as though the words had taken effort to release.
Laura froze, her lips parting in disbelief.
“Desire?” she echoed, the word soft yet sharp on her tongue. “How can ye speak so when ye treat me like a burden half the time? Ye’re impossible to understand.” She turned her face away, though her heart thundered at his confession.
Bradley stepped closer, closing the space between them until she could feel the heat of his body.
“Impossible?” he repeated, his tone rough with hunger. “Aye, I’ll grant ye that. For every time ye defy me, every time ye toss yer head and glare, I want ye in me arms until ye forget yer own name.” His hand shot out, gripping her wrist with unyielding strength.
“Bradley!” she gasped, though she did not pull away. Her heart raced as he tugged her sharply toward him. The world seemed to tilt as she collided against his chest, her breath catching at his hardness. She lifted her gaze to his, and her resolve crumbled under the fire she found there.
“I cannae stand it, Laura,” he growled, his lips brushing close to hers. “Ye plague me thoughts, night and day, with yer sweetnessand yer fire. I’m a man lost, and it’s ye that’s undone me.” His words dripped with truth, leaving her no escape.
Laura’s hands pressed against his chest, but it was not to push him away.
“Ye’re maddened,” she whispered, though her own voice betrayed her longing. His warmth seeped through her, chasing away every shred of reason. For a moment she hated herself for wanting, but her heart silenced her mind.
Bradley bent his head and captured her mouth with his. The kiss was fierce, claiming, filled with all the tension that had brewed between them since the start. Laura melted into him, her body betraying her vows and her doubts. She lost herself, carried on a tide of fire and longing.
When he broke away, his breath was ragged, his face inches from hers. “Ye see, lass,” he rasped, “ye’ve cast a spell on me. I cannae fight it, nor would I if I could. Ye’re mine, Laura, whether ye accept it or nae.” His arms tightened around her possessively.
Laura’s lips trembled, her chest rising and falling quickly. “I daenae ken what to do with ye,” she confessed, torn between fear and desire. Her hands clung to his tunic as though she would fall without him. “Ye leave me without sense.”
Bradley gave a low, rough laugh that vibrated against her cheek. “Then let sense be damned,” he said.
Without warning, he bent and swept her off her feet, cradling her against his chest. “If ye’ll nae walk beside me, then I’ll carry ye, lass, all the way to the castle.” His eyes burned with fierce devotion as he strode forward.
“Bradley, put me down!” she cried, though the protest lacked strength. Her arms looped around his neck despite herself, holding on as the world spun around them. “Ye’ll shame us if anyone sees.” Yet her heart beat wildly, her body thrilling at his strength.
“Let them see,” Bradley muttered, his voice thick with desire. “Let the whole clan ken that their laird’s wife has stolen his very soul. Let them whisper, let them talk, I daenae care. For I’d carry ye to the ends of the earth if it meant ye were in me arms.” His words rang with unshakable certainty.
Laura buried her face against his shoulder, half-hiding from the truth of what she felt. Shame battled against the heat pooling in her chest, but she could not deny the way her body softened in his hold. She should resist him, yet she longed only to cling tighter. The castle drew nearer, its looming walls a witness to the storm raging in her heart.
Bradley strode through the courtyard with an unbroken stride, his gaze fixed ahead. He paid no mind to the few startled looks cast their way, his focus wholly on the woman in his arms. Every step he took was filled with possession, as though each stride marked her as his. And Laura, though her cheeks burned, could not bring herself to demand release.
By the time the great doors of the castle opened to swallow them, Laura’s heart was no longer her own. She felt trapped, torn between duty and the reckless longing he ignited within her.
Yet as he carried her across the threshold, one truth pressed heavily on her soul—Laird McCormack had claimed more than her body. He had claimed her spirit, and she feared she would never take it back.
She didn’t protest when he carried her through the heavy door of their bedchamber, the sound of it closing behind them echoing through the stone walls.
Laura’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath uneven as she clutched at his shoulders, the heat of his body searing through her. He lowered her onto the bed with care, though his gaze burned with anything but gentleness. The air felt thick with the urgency that had followed them from the shore to this room.
