The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,6

and faced the storm.

“Is that all ye have?” she demanded.

The sky rumbled with an answer, growling at her like a hungry bear. The lightning flashed, affording him a view of her face. She was smiling with the victory of surviving the river’s rage. He’d grant her that feeling, for the water was tearing at the edges of the bank, ripping rocks and trees away. It seemed winter wasn’t planning to wait until Samhain to rake its claws across the land.

The siren was due her measure of accomplishment for surviving.

The lightning gave her a view of him. Her head tilted in his direction as her eyes widened. Darkness wrapped around them both a moment later, stealing any further details of her away from Faolan. The wind was howling around them. He had no idea if sirens were the same as other women when it came to manners they expected men to have, but it mattered very little at that moment because all that was important was survival.

Another crack of lightning showed him the way her frame shook. Soaked to the skin, the wind was biting into her. The river had failed to kill her quickly with drowning; now the water was going to continue to try and claim her life by freezing her.

He wouldn’t let it happen.

Faolan reached out and closed his hand around her wrist. Her flesh was chilled where his fingers touched it. She turned her face toward his, her teeth bared against the onslaught of the storm. Her strength of spirit impressed him, sparking something inside him that was just as determined to keep her out of the jaws of death. He pulled her along, fighting against the wind and the mud to make it back to shelter. She struggled with her skirts. The fabric was waterlogged and plastered to her legs. He could feel her arm trembling. But a glance behind him showed him that her teeth were set, her jaw tight as she forced herself to take the next step. There was no hint of surrender on her face.

But where her spirit might be willing, her flesh had limits.

So, he’d force her to keep moving.

Because he didn’t want to find himself digging her grave when the storm broke.

*

Cora gasped.

The wind stole the sound in a second as though she’d never uttered it.

The fingers wrapped around her wrist were so warm.

Hot really.

The surge of victory she’d used to stand was fading now; her perception of how warm his fingers were drove home just how chilled she was. She felt the cold in her bones, which meant if she wanted to live to see the dawn, she needed to warm herself.

Whoever he was, he knew it, too. He turned and pulled her along behind him. The rain pelted his wide shoulders, the wet fabric of his clothing sticking to his frame. He kept his pace slow as they traversed a section of bare rock, which was made slick by the heavy amount of water. Once they reached the regular ground, he moved faster. Her skirts were sticking to her legs, too heavy with water. She struggled against them, fighting to lengthen her stride.

If he noticed, his pace never faltered.

A crack of lightning brightened the scene, affording her a glimpse at a pair of dark towers. They were built of stone, the surface of them glistening. Whoever he was, he must have called them home, for he moved toward one with steady purpose. When he stopped, he released her wrist so he could use both hands to open the door. The wind fought him. But he persisted until the door was pried open in the face of the wind.

She was half blown inside. He followed her, allowing the door to shut behind them.

The air inside was hot on her cheeks. Cora immediately realized how hard she was shaking. She clamped her mouth shut to keep them from shredding her tongue, while she wrapped her arms around her middle in an attempt to gain control over her body.

But it wasn’t to be. Escaping from the river appeared to have used up her share of luck. It wasn’t that she truly felt as though it was unfair, for surviving the night certainly was a feat. Only now, her knees were buckling, and no amount of protest from her pride was going to stop her collapse onto the floor.

But her companion kept her from hitting the ground.

“We must get ye free of yer wet clothing, lass,” he offered before reaching for the