Page 23 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

“I dinnae need yer help tae balance with me hands free, and ye still hold me in such a familiar manner.” Unlike a fortnight before, when she’d leveled such accusations, there was no anger in her voice, only a faint note of teasing.

He realized that he’d grown accustomed to putting his arms around her waist, under her elbows. Alistair smirked. “Are ye angered that I’m being too impertinent, or nae impertinent enough?”

“Ye brute.” Niamh’s light-hearted comment held affection rather than malice. “Are ye so forward with every woman ye meet?”

“Nae everyone.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say something about their betrothal, before he remembered that it was still a sore subject between them. He changed his words. “Only beautiful, intriguing lasses I happen tae run intae.”

“Is that so?”

“Aye. It takes a special lass tae catch me attention and keep me from minding me manners. Or me distance.” Alistair let his voice deepen to a teasing rumble of his own.

“Dinnae think ye’ll sway me with pretty words. Ye ken I’m still vexed with ye. Even if ye’ve been almost tolerable fer the past few days, I willnae forget ye tied me up and carried me away from me home.”

“And I’ll nae forget that ye tried tae get me dumped from me saddle. And never ye mind the fact ye bruised me shins and tried tae bite a chunk out o’ me arm.”

Niamh’s voice turned indignant. “Ye said ye didnae feel that!”

“I said it would tak’ more than a little love bite tae make me react.” Alistair corrected her. He winced, shifting his weight. The lighthearted conversation was far easier to endure than her anger had been, but it also increased the aching desire he felt for her.

A fortnight of sitting behind her, holding her in his arms as they rode, hadn’t helped either, and it was only luck that she’d never been awake, or in his rooms, when he dealt with his arousal. Fortunate too that he was often so tired after a day of dealing with the horses and the inclement autumn weather that his problems were easy to take care of, and quick to pass.

Thinking of that wasn’t helping him either, and he shifted again. Niamh harrumphed. “What with ye? Ye’re shiftin’ about like ye’ve got a thistle in yer kilt.”

He almost wished that were the truth. Instead, he grunted. “’Tis only a muscle ache I was tryin’ tae stretch. Me lower back’s a wee bit tight.”

“I would have thought a big, strong warrior such as ye could handle a bit o’ discomfort.”

“And so I can, Niamh Cameron, but a tight muscle in the lower back can cause the leg tae spasm, if ye’re nae careful. And I wouldnae want tae startle the horses if my leg did something like... this!”

Niamh yelped and grabbed onto Alistair’s arms as he suddenly spurred their horse into a fast canter. The animal bolted forward with a jolt, and for a moment, all she could do was hang onto him. Then the moment passed and he brought the horses under control once more, using soothing noises to calm the other three on the lead rein.

There was a smug grin in his voice when he spoke to her again. “Ye see now lass, how nae stretchin’ an aching back properly can cause a fair bit o’ trouble.”

She twisted in his arms and glared at him over her shoulder as best she could. “Ye did that on purpose.”

She heard the laughter in his voice, and it made her want to hit him. “Aye, I’ll nae deny it, but it was tae prove a point. And would ye rather it had happened when neither o’ us were prepared fer it?”

“I’d rather it didnae happen at all.” She settled for kicking back and landing a glancing blow to his leg. It wasn’t a very hard kick, and she knew it wouldn’t even leave a mark, but Alistair huffed.

“I thought we were past the kickin’.” She could practically hear the faint scowl in his words.

“We were, until ye decided tae be a lout and startle me tae prove a point.” She would have folded her arms to make her own point, but not when they were still in the saddle. She settled for gripping the horse’s mane and pretending to ignore him.

“Fair enough, I suppose.” Alistair fell silent again, and Niamh was left alone with her thoughts.

She wished she could think of something else to say. Silence meant she had far too much time to think about how it felt to have his arms around her, warm and sturdy. Or the feel of his broad chest against her back, the rhythm of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart.

Thinking of that reminded her of the night before, when she’d been held the same way, but in a bed, rather than on the back of a horse. She’d fallen asleep to his steady breathing and his warmth, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about him. And about what it would be like if his arms ever encircled her with passion, rather than simple protectiveness or kindness.

I cannae think like that. I cannae let meself fall fer him!

Niamh closed her eyes, trying to focus her thoughts on her anger. Alistair had deceived her. He’d gone behind her back with her father to arrange their betrothal. He was a rogue and a liar and a brute who’d dragged her from her home tied up like a prisoner.

He was also the man who’d kept her safe on the road. He’d soothed her nightmares, and never taken advantage of her. He’d slept on the floor when needed, and he’d untied her to make her more comfortable, even knowing that she might try to run away.

It was hard to reconcile the man who’d coldly threatened Grace and dragged her from her home with the man who’d calmed her fears and played in the stream with her just a few days prior.

She opened her eyes and looked down at her left hand, where she now wore his ring. She knew how precious it was to him, and yet, he’d given it to her, along with a promise to protect her.