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“Ye have my unwavering support, my friend,” Alex replied immediately. “Ye ken I stand with the MacLeods as if we were brothers.”
“As do I,” Grant replied. “But what of yer original message to me? What of finding Katherine’s killers in the midst of all this?”
“I’ve till the leaves turn to find who was responsible,” Cameron replied, matter-of-fact. “After that, I forfeit my life to the king.”
“Nay,” Lachlan and Iain said together.
“If ye have nae located who was responsible,” Lachlan said, “ye will flee.”
“Nay, I—”
“Will flee,” Iain interrupted Cameron’s attempt to object, which made Sorcha exhale with relief. “That is an order as yer laird and a plea as yer brother.”
Cameron opened his mouth as if to argue more but then snapped it shut. But Sorcha knew with absolute certainty that he’d never flee. He would not put his family in danger like that. She was both proud and fearful at once. Moreover, she was determined to help him. She had to get back her memory somehow. If she could recall the details of the night Katherine was killed, she was sure that she could help Cameron find the woman’s murderers.
Fifteen
Two days later, Cameron, Sorcha, Broch, Grant, Alex, and Lena set out with fifty MacLeod warriors for Brigid Castle. Cameron had been reluctant to bring Lena along, but he relented to Marion’s advice since Lena had skill in the healing arts and desperately wished to feel needed—and because his guilt at making Lena feel she was being forsaken was plaguing him. Cameron pushed the guilt aside and focused on what was to come, desperately hoping that Graham would offer men to support the attack on the Earl of March’s home.
The journey to Brigid would usually only be one day, but now that they were accompanied by Sorcha and Lena, he did not want to tire them, so they would do it in two days. He was also well aware that stopping halfway gave him time to be alone with Sorcha. That would be harder to find at his brother’s home. They would be at Graham’s for several days, as they would be waiting on Alex’s men to meet with them, but there would be no solitude to be found at Brigid, though the castle was large.
With all of this in his thoughts, he located a suitable place to stop that had lush, soft grass to sleep on and many trees to hide them, along with a rushing stream that ran along a winding path. He called for his men to halt.
He helped Sorcha down from her horse, soaking in the chance to touch her. Every time his skin met hers, his body set to flame. He’d spent much of the early part of the journey replaying the intimate night they had spent together, so that now, with his hands curled around her waist, all he could think of was sliding them lower to the soft, silky skin he knew to be between her thighs. Of course, he could not, surrounded as they were by his men and his sister, which is why when she said, “I’m going to attend to my needs,” he allowed her to disappear before barking orders to his men to set up camp. He hurried into the woods after her.
He spotted her before she was aware of him. She stood in the center of a circle of trees with the last rays of the day’s sunlight shimmering down on her. Her head was tilted back, her hair grazing the top of her perfectly rounded bottom, and her eyes closed. Her lips parted slightly as she inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled with obvious enjoyment. It was the most innocent yet erotically alluring thing he had ever seen. She was the picture of beauty, made perfect by her ability to enjoy such a simple thing as warmth upon her face. He’d known many women intimately, but he had never taken the time to know a woman truly. All he wanted now was time to learn the woman before him.
“Sorcha,” he said, wincing at the catch in his voice caused by a swell of emotion only she could cause.
She whipped her gaze to his, and a flirty smile twisted her lips. “Couldn’t resist following me, I see,” she teased.
“Someone needs to guard ye,” he said smoothly.
She snorted at that. “The only person I need guarding from is ye,” she replied with a laugh.
“The enemy could be about,” he reminded her gently, though he had taken great pains to ensure no one was following them.
Her eyes widened a bit. “Do ye truly believe so?” she asked, glancing around the woods.
“Likely nae,” he replied, closing the distance between them. He slipped his arm around her waist. “But I will nae risk yer life.” He yanked her against his chest, and her soft body crashed into his, her breath whooshing out and her eyes widening. She slid her hand to the base of his neck and twined her fingers in his hair. “Do ye ken what I want more than anything in this moment, Cameron MacLeod?” she asked in a throaty voice.
His body hardened at her tempting question. “I’ve a thousand wicked replies, and I pray each one of them is on yer mind, lass, but I invite ye to show me, instead of my guessing. Of course, if ye wish me to guess by actions…” He allowed his words to trail off as he brushed his mouth teasingly over her plump lips.
She smacked him playfully on the arm. “Dunnae ye fear ye will give in to my wish for ye to claim my body if ye touch me as ye did last night?” she asked, seeming so innocent now.
“I’ll manage somehow,” he growled.
Quirking a finger at him, she abruptly turned in his arms and skittered away from him, forcing him to chase her deeper into the woods. He overcame her at the stream, and when he grabbed her by the waist and hauled her backside against him, she laughed and leaned her head back onto his chest. His breath snagged with contentment.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered, raising her head to look at the glistening stream.
“Aye,” he replied, sparing a momentary glance at it but then settling his attention back on her. “It is, but it dunnae compare to ye.”
She twisted in his arms toward him and deftly tied her thick, golden hair into a knot high upon her head, exposing the long, slender column of her neck. He could not resist the temptation to press his lips to her skin. He kissed along the creamy length of her neck, relishing the way his touch made her pulse beat so rapidly. When she moaned, he took it as an indication that she wanted him to continue, and he was more than happy to do so. He trailed a path of kisses to her breasts, but her hands suddenly threaded in his hair and tugged his face to hers.
“Lie down with me,” she demanded, her voice a velvet tone of persuasion.
He nodded, stripping off his plaid and laying it on the ground for them. Bright-yellow flowers covered the ground all around her, and her hair trailed off the plaid, becoming lost among the flowers that matched its color. She settled on her back and grinned up at him, so trusting and secure in his presence. Every doubt he had about himself and every worry about whether or not others saw him as worthy dissipated in her adoring gaze. She made him feel unconquerable. Something deep in his chest jolted and tightened as if someone had just squeezed his heart in their fist.
