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“Ye’ve gone soft, Brother,” Liam observed as he turned away, shaking his head. “This is goin’ tae end in tears, mark my words.”
Presently, Finn came back to Greta and swung onto the horse behind her.
“Ye are safe, hen. None of the lads will hurt ye, or I will hurt them, an’ trust me, they don’t want that tae happen.” His voice was a fierce growl, but Greta was not convinced.
“How can ye possibly defend yersel’ against a’ these big men?” she asked scathingly, although she knew the answer to her own question.He is definitely a leader,she thought,an’ a man of presence, but nae just because of his considerable height an’ powerful build. It is because he has a presence, an aura about him that seems tae make him bigger than his physical size.
“I don’t know,” he replied, shrugging. “None of them has ever tried to do me any harm.”
“An’ why are ye takin’ me with ye?” Greta asked. “Because ye need somebody tae cook for ye?”
Then the answer came to him. “No, it is because I like the company of women. Ye are a’ gentle an’ mostly kind, an’ ye are nae rough an’ dirty in yer habits. I just like women.” He shrugged.
“That is no’ much of an answer, and what else do ye expect from me?” she asked suspiciously.
“If ye mean, do I want tae bed ye, the answer is that a man would have tae be blind nae tae want tae bed ye.” His voice was grim. “But no. I respect a’ ladies, an’ I would never force mysel’ on any one of ye.”
Strangely, his words comforted her, and as he urged his horse into a trot, Greta felt exhaustion creep over her. She had thought that she might never sleep again, but with the comfort of his arms around her, she let herself slump back against his hard chest and fell into a doze.
6
The fire was only a foot in front of Greta’s face, and she could feel its heat beginning to scorch her. Her brows and eyelashes were burning. She wanted to run, but her hands and feet would not move, and eventually, she let out her last breath on a scream.
“Hey! Hey!” Finn shook her, alarmed by the sudden bloodcurdling sound. He stopped his horse and waved the others away, then shook her gently. “Lass, ye are dreamin’. Ye are out o’ the fire now.”
She shook her head to clear it and realized that tears were streaming down her face again. Impatiently, she dashed them away, then looked around, wondering where she was. She was somewhere in the middle of a long stretch of rolling moorland on which dozens of fat wooly sheep cropped, and in the distance, there was a jagged row of blue mountains which looked like a set of broken teeth. A group of men was riding around her, and they all looked dirty, sullen, and aggressive. From time to time, one of them would turn around to look at her with a fearsome scowl or a leer, which made her flesh creep.
Then, abruptly, the memory came back to her—the fire, the children, the bandits, the ruined village, and him. All of a sudden, she realized that she was astride a horse, looking into the face of the tall, muscular man who was now standing beside it. He was holding out his arms to help her dismount, and she let herself be lifted off and set on the ground, where she stood for a few moments, her legs shaking.
Her throat was sore, she stank of smoke, and there was a burn on her thigh that was stinging painfully. As well as that, she knew her face was black and likely her clothes were equally so. She had a blinding headache, a burn on her thigh, and had never felt worse in her life, but she was less concerned about her own bodily woes than she was about the children. Had they all managed to flee? She hated to think of any of them being burnt to death or choking on smoke.
“Come an’ get a drink,” Finn said, taking her hand as they walked down to the little burn that ran alongside them. “After a’ that smoke, ye likely need one.”
Greta had never been so glad to see water in her life. She dipped her hands into the freezing depths of the burn, cupped handfuls of water, and drank her fill, then sluiced it over her filthy face. After she had washed her hands and forearms, she shook out her hair and combed her fingers through it. There was nothing else she could do with it since she had to wash it thoroughly, and the thought of lying in warm water sounded like heaven on Earth.
She looked up to find Finn watching her intently, smiling a little. Something stirred inside her, and her heart began to beat faster as she realized what a beautiful man he was. His hair was a startling shade of deep red, almost like wine, and his dark blue-gray eyes were shadowed by thick brows of the same shade. Long, sloping cheekbones and a slightly aquiline nose led her gaze to a strong, full-lipped mouth, and a prominent Adam’s apple indicated the source of his remarkably deep voice.
An odd thing was happening to her body as she gazed at him. Her breasts were tingling, and there was a strange, pleasant pulsing between her legs. She had not felt this way for years, but she reminded herself who he was and what he had done, hoping that the arousal she was feeling would go away.
What a pity he did not look like the monster he was because perhaps her body would stop betraying her. Sitting on the horse, she had felt what she thought was—she could hardly bear to think of it—a part of him that became hard when a woman attracted him. It had made her feel good to know that she had this power over him, and perhaps she could use it to her advantage.
Greta stood up suddenly, and he did likewise, catching her as she stumbled a little. She was very close to him now, so close that he could have dipped his face down to hers only a little and kissed her. She saw him swallow nervously, but he made no move toward her, and she knew that he would not because, in some strange way, she knew she could trust him.
“Is there anythin’ else ye need?” he asked. Finn was uneasy in her presence. Hours of sitting on a horse with this beautiful woman pressed up against him had made him uncomfortably aroused, and now he was embarrassed, hoping she had not noticed. If she had, however, she was not telling him.
“I would like to know where ye are takin’ me,” she answered, putting her hands on her hips and looking up at him defiantly.
“A’ in good time, lass,” he replied evasively, before walking her back to his horse and lifting her into the saddle. He climbed on behind her and once more she was enclosed by his strong arms as he gripped the reins.
Finn wanted to speak to her and find out a little about the beautiful woman he was sharing a saddle with but could think of nothing to say.
“Will I ever get away from ye?” she asked bitterly.
“If ye are good, I will let ye go,” he answered.
A flame of hope sprang up in Greta’s heart, but then she quashed it ruthlessly. This man was a criminal, a bandit. His word was good for nothing unless she counted the pleasure of listening to his rich, deep voice. Then she gave herself a mental slap and reminded herself yet again that he destroyed whatever he touched. She should not be thinking of kissing him or enjoying listening to his deep voice or the way the hard flesh of his chest made her feel when her back rubbed against him. Or the other thing that made her blush to think of it.
When they broke into a slight canter, Finn put an arm around her to steady her in the saddle. It held her around her middle, just brushing the undersides of her breasts, and once more, she felt her nipples tightening, and a pool of liquid settled between her thighs, making her seated position distinctly uncomfortable.
