“Aye,” she murmured. “How did ye find me?”
“I just followed ye. Ye’re not hard to track, love. Ye’re the only Chinese lass in the whole of the United Kingdom, ye ken?”
“Am I?”
“Well, in this bit of it, anyway.” He stroked his hand down her spine. “I was worried sick about ye. How did those men find ye?”
She had been tracing a series of kisses over his chest, but that brought her head up. She shuddered to his alarm. “They followed me from Teviothead. I tried to lose them by going off the road, but the leader followed me into the trees. There was a fallen trunk, and I tumbled from the mare’s back when she leaped over it. He came for me then but—” She stopped and took a breath. “I flipped him, and he broke his neck on a tree branch.”
“Ah, love!” He held her tight. “That must have been terrible,” he murmured.
“It was.” She clung to him, little tremors shaking her body. “I’ve never killed anyone before, but he was going to rape me and share me with his friends. I was desperate to stop him.”
“And ye did.” He knew a moment’s pride for her resourcefulness, and relief that she had not had to face them all at once. “Where were the others?”
“Looking for me. They split up to search. It was just bad luck that he found me.” She took a breath and let it out. “It took me an age to find my way out of the forest and back to the road. And when I did, I found the rest of them.”
He tightened his hold on her, his heart rate picking up in alarm.
“They surrounded me with their horses, so I forced the mare to rear and kick out and I charged out of the circle and back to the road and off the other side. I pushed through some brambles. I think the mare was hurt; we will have to look.”
“I checked. She’s alright, but ye, were ye hurt?”
“Some scratches.” She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “The thing was, I got away and ye found me.” She hugged him. “I’ve never been so glad of anything in my life. Ye were right. It’s nae safe for a woman alone in Scotland. It would have been much worse if I didn’t know how to fight. And I’m grateful ye were there when they came back, or I don’t know what would have happened.”
“Aye.” He hugged her tight, shuddering at the prospect of what they would have done to her in vengeance for their captain’s death. “I had to come after ye, lass. Not only isn’t it safe, ye had hold of the wrong end of the stick.”
“What?” she stared at him, obviously puzzled by this expression.
“Merlow didnae kill yer brother, Hana. Liang died of an apoplexy. Merlow tried his damndest to revive him, but couldnae do so. Merlow is a doctor, ye ken, a healer. He wouldnae kill anyone if he could help it.” He watched her face, hoping she would believe him. “I tried to tell ye. But I’d done the damage with the first words I uttered about them fighting, andye wouldnae listen. I’m so sorry for yer loss, lass, but it wasnae Merlow’s fault. Liang attacked him and his wife Hetty. Merlow was forced to defend himself and protect her. I’ll read ye the whole letter. Then ye’ll understand.”
He got up and found the letter in his pack, then returned to the bed and sat. He read the whole thing to her and she listened, her brow furrowed, sitting cross-legged next to him. When he spoke of the deaths of the other Chinese men, she uttered a small cry and covered her mouth.
He stopped. “Ye knew them, lass?”
She nodded. “They were Liang’s loyal followers.” She bowed her head. “So much death. What happened to the third man?”
“I’m getting to that.” He resumed reading, and she wiped a tear off her cheek hearing the fate of the third Chinese soldier.
When he finished reading the final part about Liang’s death, she sat silently, staring down at her hands clasped in her lap.
A sob escaped her, and she murmured, “His dreams came to nothing. To have the Neidan in his grasp and lose it like that—” She gulped, her eyes awash with tears.
A great, aching sob wracked her, and he dropped the letter and drew her into his arms and rocked her. “I’m so sorry, Aihan!” He felt helpless in the face of her sorrow, and empathy brought tears to his own eyes.
He eased her down under the plaid and held her while she cried. When she had sobbed herself to a standstill, he found her a handkerchief and rubbed her back in slow circles as she lay on his chest, sniffing.
He stroked her and kissed her hair, trying to comfort her. She raised her face, and he kissed her, just for comfort. But the kiss rapidly became more than comfort, and he rolled her back into the rustling hay as she squirmed beneath him, her hands running over his body and demanding he make her feel better. At least that was what he thought she was doing.
He raised his head, panting. “Ye want this, lass?”
“Aye,” she growled, pulling him down into another kiss. Surrendering to the inevitable, he stroked his fingers between her legs. She was wet and his cock jumped eagerly. He rubbed her quickly until she was panting and squirming. Then, sensing her impatience, he rolled into position and entered her body with a swift hard thrust. She groaned with him as their bodies aligned, and she surged up into him, twisting under him, panting and making little grunting noises that he found deeply erotic.
“Fook!” he groaned, the lightning igniting in his spine. She bit his shoulder, her hands clamping tightly on his biceps as she drove herself higher. His balls pulled tight as pleasure built and built, and he thrust deep, hard, and frenziedly fast.
Abruptly they both came,hard. She clamped him tight as she cried out and his seed released with a sudden and violent spasm. The wave of sharp bliss forced an incoherent shout from his throat as his body convulsed with pleasure. Collapsing in a panting heap of tangled limbs, he closed his eyes, getting his breath back and feeling the tingles of waning pleasure subside slowly, leaving him boneless and drifting on a tide of happiness.
“Fook, that was quick,” he murmured.
