“Comfortable?” he asked, resting his one arm just beneath her breasts.
“Very,” she said, and snuggled into him.
“You know we will wed upon our return.”
“We will discuss it,” she said on a sigh.
“We will do well together,” he said as if all was settled.
She lifted her head to look at him. “Kiss me.”
He laughed. “You are not a shy one.”
“I like when you kiss me and you have never kissed me knowing me as Fiona.”
He looked baffled. “Have I ever kissed Aliss?”
Fiona laughed. “She would never kiss you.”
“Why?” he said as if insulted.
She moved closer to his lips as she spoke. “She does not care for you.” She ran her lips across his. “I do like the taste of you.”
He grabbed her chin. “Once we share this kiss, Fiona, you are mine forever.”
“Promise,” she whispered, her warm breath fanning his lips.
“Damn, woman, but you tempt my soul.”
She laughed, licked her lips in a slow circulating motion, then leaned in and ran her tongue over his lips in the same lusty manner.
His teeth captured her tongue in playful nips, and they were soon lost in a long lingering kiss that seemed to go on forever and ever until finally Tarr reluctantly ended it.
“Any more of this and our first coupling will be here on the cold, hard ground.”
Her green eyes blurred with passion. “A tempting thought.”
“Too tempting. Now, go to sleep before you get us both in trouble.”
She sighed like a disappointed child.
“Go to sleep,” he repeated firmly.
“I will have you,” she said with a yawn, and closed her eyes.
He smiled and hugged her. “That you will, Fiona.”
Chapter 17
Not a human sound could be heard as Tarr’s men waited silently for orders. They sat on their horses at the edge of the stream that divided Tarr’s and Raynor’s lands, prepared for whatever was necessary.
Fiona kept a steady eye on the other side, grateful for the near end of autumn, the foliage not being as dense. She watched for signs of Tarr’s return.
They had arrived at the stream a few hours after dawn, and at first it appeared as if they had followed a bogus trail. Two trails had been picked up on the other side and were being investigated when suddenly Tarr was summoned.
Fiona had wanted to go with him. She had a feeling it had something to do with her sister. Why else would he be summoned? He had insisted she remain behind and had cautioned her about following him.
He had stationed two guards on either side of her before he had left, letting her know he would not be long. But it had been too long, much too long. Something was not right; she could feel it.
“He takes too much time,” Fiona said, looking to John, the larger of the two guards.
“He told us to wait on his return. We wait.”
Fiona knew not to waste her time arguing with him. He would do what he was trained to do, follow his chieftain’s orders.
With each passing minute her concern grew, and when early morning turned to early afternoon it was obvious something was terribly wrong.
John appeared the one in charge, for if one warrior dare move from their position his look alone would stay the man.
“We cannot continue to remain here and do nothing,” Fiona demanded. “Something is wrong. Tarr would have returned by now.”
She was surprised when he agreed with her.
“Aye, you are right.” He looked to the man beside her. “Patrick, tell the men to prepare. We cross the stream.”
Fiona almost sighed with relief, though instead she sent him a firm nod, acknowledging his wise decision.
The men were ready and eager, the horses impatient, and John’s hand poised ready to give the order to cross when James, one of the warriors who had gone with Tarr, walked out of the woods and waved for them to cross.
John did not hesitate; he lowered his hand, signaling the men to cross. Fiona knew as he did that the warrior would have died before calling them into a trap. It was a matter of honor with a Scotsman.
James approached John, walking between his and Fiona’s horse. “Raynor’s men have taken Tarr.” He then turned and looked to Fiona. “The message is that you are to come alone to Raynor’s keep if you want to see Tarr and your sister.”
“Fiona goes nowhere,” John said firmly.
Fiona sent the man a scathing look. “That is not for you to decide.”