Page 59 of Cherished By A Highlander

He turned quiet for a moment and Shade saw that he struggled to continue as if he wasn’t sure to reveal more to her.

“Tell me all,” she encouraged, resting her hand against his chest and seeing his heart suddenly pumping faster.

“The fellow told me what she said to them. She told them that they would be sorry and that I loved her as much as she loved me and that I would hunt every one of them down and make them all suffer before I ended their worthless lives.”

Shade could not stop the tears from gathering in her eyes. “Facing death, she made sure you would hear of her love for you and that she knew how much you loved her. She was a courageous woman.”

Quint nodded, trying to clear his mind of what Amara must have gone through. “Bargaining for his life, the fellow offered me information that he was not supposed to hear. He told me who was responsible for Amara’s death. I heard him clearly… the healer, Shade.” He moved her off his lap, stood, and walked away from her.

He didn’t go far but Shade felt like a chasm separated them.

“I don’t understand, Quint. I fight to heal people, prevent their deaths.” She shook her head. “How could I be responsible when I never met Amara? I never tended to anyone named Amara. I don’t know how I could be at fault.”

“The fellow was sure of it.”

“And are you?” Shade stood and put more distance between them, turning around when she reached the door. “I understand the pain this must have cost you, and my heart aches for you. But I would have thought that you would recall the shock and pain it cost me to learn on my wedding day that I had wed the infamous Monk, and my response to that startling news. I stood by you, accepted you because I had gotten to know you, trusted you, believed in the man I had fallen in love with, and no one could tell me any differently. I thought you knew me that well. I guess I was wrong.” She opened the door to leave, and it was slammed shut before it barely moved.

Quint’s hand sat braced against the door, and his arm circled her waist and pulled her back against him. Then he pressed his cheek firmly against hers. “You are not going anywhere. We settle this now.”

“How is that even possible when you believe me guilty?” she argued.

“Convince me otherwise,” he ordered, hoping she could since he did not know how he could ever let her go.

“Believe otherwise,” she countered, hurt that he left it for her to prove.

He kept his cheek pressed to hers, her familiar scent stirring his passion for her that never seemed to end. Even now, uncertain of her part in it all, he still desired her. What did that tell him? That he did know her? That he did trust her? That The Monk’s hunger for revenge had blinded him to the truth.

There was strength in his voice but no harshness. “The Monk can be…”

“Maddening?” Shade suggested when he seemed at a loss to find an adequate word.

“Relentless,” he corrected.

“Which leaves one no time to think wisely,” she argued.

His arm tightened around her waist, and he spun her around to face him, catching her against him and having no intentions of doing so but unable to resist, planted his lips on hers in a hungry kiss.

Shade was able to tell the difference right away. The Monk kissed her, and it was a kiss that spoke of fiery passion, of relentless need, and a hint of forgiveness, of what she didn’t know. But that she could feel it in him was all that mattered for it was a sign of redemption.

He got her to the bed, his need so great, he didn’t bother to strip her of her garments or himself. He tossed her down and yanked her garments up and went down on top of her, pushing his plaid aside. He was hard, so damn hard that his shaft ached.

You will be sorry you did this. He loves me as much as I love him. He will hunt you down every one of you and make you suffer before he ends your worthless lives.

The Monk stopped just before his manhood was about to enter Shade and threw back his head and roared at hearing the sweet voice of Amara so clear in his head that he expected to see her standing there. He hurried off Shade and went to pace in front of the hearth, cursing himself.

Shade pushed her garments down and swung her legs off the bed to sit there watching her husband pace frantically. Amara trusted him to avenge her death and until that was settled, he wasn’t truly free to love Shade, to speak the words, to rid himself of the guilt, to love with all his heart.

She stood.

The Monk stopped abruptly, shoving his hand out in front of him. “Don’t come near me!”

Shade dropped to sit on the bed. “Tell me about Amara.”

“Why?” he snapped.

“Because perhaps I knew her by a different name, perhaps she came to me for help and in some odd way, my help or lack of it was responsible for her death.”

CHAPTER 18

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