He is a handsome man and well-endowed.” Fiona smirked.
“He is an ill man in need of tending, nothing more. I told you many times that I, unlike you, am not interested in finding love. I wish to continue studying the healing arts, which means I have no room for a husband in my life.”
“You may regret it one day.”
“Then it will be mine to regret, but now I wish to pursue my interests.”
“You know I will always support whatever choice you make,” Fiona assured her. “I think it would be wise of us to place a time limit on this charade.”
“You mean a time limit to see if you could possibly fall in love with Tarr.”
“Whatever way you wish to see it as.” Fiona shrugged. “One month’s time, then we leave or stay unless an earlier departure proves necessary.”
“Tarr will not let us leave,” Aliss said.
“I know someone who would probably welcome us and protect us.”
Aliss looked perplexed.
“Think about it, Aliss. Where is the perfect place to hide?”
Aliss smiled. “Raynor.”
“He would not deny us protection. He feels indebted to you.”
“He would need our help.”
“If we need his help, then so be it,” Fiona said. “How long before he is well enough to attempt an escape?”
“Two, perhaps three weeks.”
“See if you can stretch it into a month. If we time this right, all can fall into place easily.”
By the time they were done, it was agreed that nothing would be said to Raynor until it was deemed necessary. As for Tarr? He was for Fiona to deal with; Aliss wanted nothing more to do with him.
Aliss returned to Raynor and Fiona went to the pen where her mare was stabled.
She grabbed a blanket and reins and prepared her horse for riding. Within minutes, she was flying across the meadow, a cool wind in her face, her raging red hair flying wildly about her head and the pure joy of freedom beating wildly in her heart.
Fiona was not familiar with the land but that made no difference. She feared little, her knife sheathed at her waist and her sword strapped securely to her horse. Most men feared a woman with a sword, not knowing whether she was skilled or if it was simply a ruse. Once she unsheathed it, though, men quickly learned she knew exactly what to do with it.
She rode with sheer abandonment until, spying a stream through sparse woods, she slowed her mare, guiding her to the water.
Resting on the edge of the stream while the horse drank, she tossed a stone or two into the running water. “I know you follow me; show yourself.”
A moment passed and no one emerged from behind the trees or bushes.
“Have it your way, but I know you are there. For a fierce warrior, one would think you would be a good tracker, or is this another ruse like our hunting expedition?”
The taunting did it; Tarr stepped out from behind the trees. His stallion headed straight for the stream.
“How?” was all he asked.
“I caught you from the corner of my eye when my sister and I parted. You followed me, and not as unobtrusively as you should have.”
“You let me follow you?” Tarr asked.
“I wanted to see what you were about, then I realized.” Fiona turned and threw another stone; it skipped clear across the stream. “You wanted to see how skilled I was with a horse to determine if I am Fiona or Aliss. I confuse you, and that annoys you. Or are you annoyed because you find you favor kissing me?”
Tarr walked over to her, grabbed her arm, swung her around, and planted his lips on hers with a challenge to her to deny him.
She did not give it a thought. She wanted to taste him as much as he wanted to taste her. The kiss was more a battle than a tender embrace. Their tongues darted, their lips demanded, and their bodies pressed into each other. Did one intend to emerge a victor?
Fiona made no protest when his hand grabbed her firm around the neck and his mouth grinded against hers with a passion that sent her toes to tingling.
Damn if he did not taste good like a flavor of the finest wine or the freshest fruit that tempted the soul and made you hunger for more. His strong fingers dug into the muscles at the back of her neck while he kissed her, and Damn, Damn if it did not feel as good as the kiss.