Not a concern she’d ever thought to hear expressed by a medieval highland warrior.
“My aunt Jean used to say that, instead of sending men into battle, if they made the leaders square off against one another, there’d be way fewer wars.”
His fingers combed through her hair, tracing the shape of her earlobe, sending a shiver of delight sparking down her spine.
Until his hand stilled.
“It occurs to me you present a possibility I’d no even considered.”
“What?” she asked lazily, waiting for his hand to move again.
“Yer aunt Jean sounds to be a wise woman, love. She may well have had the right of it. Two leaders meeting face-to-face might well avert a battle.”
He kissed the top of her head and slid out from under her, out of her grasp, out of the bed.
Dani’s body tensed as she rolled over to watch him slipping into his clothes. What had she done? It had only been idle chatter. She hadn’t been talking about him personally. Of all the things she didn’t want, his risking his own personal safety was right at the top of the list.
“You’re not thinking of doing something stupid, are you? You don’t need to get dressed yet, you know. We still have a good hour or so before first light.”
First light. When he’d leave her to join his men on a journey that would end in battle. With him as the leader.
Her stomach flip-flopped, forming a hard, sour knot as she anticipated what was going through his mind.
“Malcolm? Tell me you’re not going to do what I think you are. Tell me you’re not that foolish.”
He finished knotting the leather around his waist before he came to her, gathering her in his arms to draw her close.
“It’s no foolish to attempt to gain yer ends without sacrificing the lives of others. Those men are my friends, my kinsmen. They’ve women who care for them every bit as much as you do for me.”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered, knowing even as she spoke he’d already made up his mind. “Those men won’t thank you for leaving them behind, you know. It’s not worth risking your life just because you’re worried some of them might be harmed.”
He cupped her face in his hands and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“It’s no just their safety, love, though that should be enough in its own right. Think.” He pulled her to him, covering her lips with his for a brief kiss. “If I’ve no call to use the MacKilyn men, I’ve no debt to the old laird. I’ll be free to return to you. To many more nights such as the one we’ve just spent together.”
Another kiss and he stood to retrieve his sword and sling it onto his back.
“If you return at all,” she whispered, giving voice to her greatest fear.
“Here, now. None of that. The gods hear and favor confidence.” He grinned as he leaned down to rummage in a wooden chest, standing up with a cloth roll he tucked under his arm. “I’d ask you to act as the warrior’s woman you will be soon enough. Will you do that for me?”
Dani slid to the edge of the bed, her lips still tingling from his last kiss, wrapping the blanket around her body as she stood. “I’ll try.”
What else could she say? She wasn’t about to send him out that door with more on his mind to distract him than he already had.
“Good. I need you to dress and station yerself in front of Patrick’s door. It’s yer best chance to catch him there before he goes to make ready the men. I need you to tell him what I’m about and to pass along to him my orders. He’s no to follow me, but to wait here for any word I send. I hold him responsible to see that Dermid is kept here where he’ll be safe, even as I hold him responsible to see to the safety of all our people here. I must do this on my own, to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. To reclaim my own life. Will you carry that word to him for me?”
She nodded, feeling too close to tears to attempt words.
Again he pulled her close, bending to kiss her. She fastened her arms around his neck, returning the kiss as if she might never feel his lips on hers again.
Fearing as he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him that indeed she might not.
Twenty-one
IF HE WEREto slice her throat now, to bleed her dry as she lay helpless in the thrall of her visions, he would never again suffer the vexation of her stubborn resistance.
He also would never learn the content of those visions. That knowledge alone stayed his hand.
