He muttered more curses, which she didn't understand. Maybe it had disgusted him as much as Holme's kiss had disgusted her.
Tears burned her eyes. "I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it. But I know not how to kiss."
"Damnation, Kristina," he muttered. "I loved the kiss. Do you not know that?"
She would never comprehend men. "Then why are you so angry?"
He laughed without humor. "Saints! I keep forgetting how naïve you are."
"Well, pray pardon! I cannot help it that I'm not experienced!" This whole conversation was mortifying to her.
He lay down beside her again. "I don't wish you to be experienced," he said with gentle compassion and kissed her forehead. "Unless I'm your teacher."
Imagining him teaching her about kissing and passion, her whole body heated. "Would you… teach me how to kiss?" she whispered.
"I will. Aye." He hissed a breath through his teeth. "Once we reach Bearach Castle." He turned to his back. "At the moment, I must focus all my attention on protecting you."
She felt completely out of her depth, and he seemed beyond her reach. "You're right. 'Twas silly of me to ask."
"Nay, not silly at all."
Hell, to Colin's way of thinking, Kristina was already so good at kissing, she near made his mind explode. Only the danger they were in kept his arousal down to a manageable level. He covered them up with the plaid and turned his back to her. She snuggled against him, making it hard to breathe normally. He couldn't remember a woman arousing him so much with a simple touch.
After a few minutes, he felt himself drifting toward sleep. Sensual dreams of Kristina filled his head.
Sometime later, battle cries echoed, waking Colin and yanking him from the comforting embrace he shared with Kristina. Alarm for her safety propelled him to his feet.
"What's happening?" she gasped.
"Must be an attack. Stay here." He grabbed the sword and targe by his side and took out his dirk.
As he bent and moved along the narrow passage, steel clashed in the outer cave. One man growled in pain. He prayed 'twas not a Cameron.
Once Colin emerged from the passage, he saw that four enemies had entered the cave and were battling his own men. A lantern sat near the entrance and dawn light filtered in, revealing the bearded, ginger-haired man who'd held Kristina at knifepoint when first he'd seen her. She'd called him Red Holme.
Colin charged him, hoping to off him quickly.
Holme deflected the strike and attempted one of his own. "Cameron, you thieving, murdering bastard!"
Colin lifted his targe, catching the blow. "Lady Kristina was never yours." He struck again.
The man leapt back. "I'm nay talking about her."
"What then?" Colin moved forward aggressively.
"Do you remember the name MacKillican? I'll never forget what your family did to mine, Colin Cameron."
MacKillican? Colin halted, frowning. They were the ones who had been proven traitors to the crown over ten years ago, their lands and castle seized by the king and given to Colin's father for the part he'd played in squashing the rebellion. "I thought your name was Red Holme."
"'Tis not my real name."
"The MacKillican chief was the thief and murderer! He killed the king's representative." Colin sent a lunging strike toward the other man's abdomen. Holme blocked it, the swords clanging.
One of Holme's injured men fell onto the lantern, casting the cave into near darkness. The muted glow of dawn at the entrance was the only remaining light.
"Let's get the hell out of here!" Holme yelled and the three of them fled out the cave's exit, leaving their fallen comrade behind.
"Capture them!" Colin ordered, then lowered his voice. "I'll hide the lady deeper in the cave."
