Braden shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Pity. I feel the urge to kill something.” Sin left them to tend his needs.
“Kill something?” she asked Braden when they were alone. “Is he jesting?”
“Most likely not,” he said matter-of-factly.
A chill went down her spine as she left Braden and rolled her plaid up, then placed it into her pack. Sin was a scary, scary man. But then, Braden could be so as well.
Dismissing them from her thoughts, she made herself concentrate on the task ahead.
Once Sin returned, the men gave Maggie her privacy as Braden prepared food to break the morning fast.
Braden glanced longingly into the trees where Maggie had vanished. He’d spent half the night just watching her. Watching the way her chest rose and fell with her deep, even breaths. The way her arm gracefully curled under her head to support it.
The way she had gently reached up in the middle of the night to scratch at her cheek and rub her eye like some adorable little child.
Sleep did the most incredible things to her. It softened the tautness of her face and made her appear like a fey imp. The same imp who had once filled his boots with flour. He laughed.
Where had the time gone?
One day they had been children, running through the heather filled moors together as they chased butterflies, and now she was grown. Grown into a strong woman who captivated him.
And this attraction he felt for her. What was it? Where did it come from?
It must be the allure of forbidden fruit, he decided. He knew he couldn’t have her and so he craved her all the more. Aye, that was it. That made sense to him.
Once they were around others, and he could find another woman, all would be set right. Maggie wouldn’t haunt his thoughts or torment his body. He would be his old self once again, the Braden who made fathers cringe in their sleep and women giggle at his approach.
And yet some part of his mind argued. It told him that she had changed him. That somehow, some way he wasn’t the same man he’d been when they started this journey.
Braden didn’t listen.
He couldn’t afford to.
Maggie returned to the camp and in less than an hour, they were on their way. They spoke little as they made their way through the forest, ever vigilant for the thieves.
As the day wore on, the sky above became dark and forbidding. A storm was coming, and they would need shelter for the night.
Reluctantly, Braden led them out of the forest, toward a small village, brimming with activity. The wattle and daub huts were uninviting, and there was a large Celtic Cross in the center of the small village.
As they approached the unfamiliar people, Braden glanced down at Sin’s legs. True to Sin’s prediction, they had actually darkened up to where they were no longer so obviously white.
Maggie’s still looked a bit too womanly for his tastes, but with any luck no one would notice that, and if they did happen to glance her way, they would merely attribute it to youth.
He hoped.
As he watched her, he saw the fear and trepidation settle on her face as she darted her gaze about the people and tightened her grip on the pack. He hated to see her scared. She had nothing to fear, not so long as he was there. He would never let any harm come to her.
So, he sought a way to make her smile.
“I wonder if there’s a bed to be found here,” he whispered teasingly in her ear.
Her face turned bright red at his words. “I’m sure there’s nothing more promising than a stable.”
Sin opened his mouth to speak, but Braden caught him on the arm. “Not a word, brother. We’re no longer on MacAllister lands, and in this area, that English accent of yours will quickly get our throats cut.”
Sin shot him an arrogant look that spoke loudly, saying, “Let them try it.”
