Page 3 of In Bed with a Highland Beast

Alaric had hardly finished his sentence when the woman grabbed a small blade that was strapped to her calf and rounded the chair, quickly sawing off the rope that held Alaric’s hands together. He couldn’t help but wonder just how many weapons she had concealed on her body. He had never met a woman like her before, someone who was clearly a skilled warrior and knew her way around weapons, and her novelty intrigued him in a way that could only be dangerous.

He could not allow his lust to get in the way of business. This was not the kind of woman with whom he should have any closer relations, as he was certain they could only lead to trouble. Besides, he still had his betrothed waiting for him back home. Kayla Sinclair was said to be a good woman from a good, if rather volatile, clan. He was reluctant to do anything that would cause the wrath of his wife or his family to crash upon him.

The moment Alaric was freed, he jumped to his feet, rubbing at his sore wrists. Before he could take a single step, the woman ushered him out of the room, pushing him down a cramped hallway, and Alaric took a moment to grab a sword from one of the fallen brigands before the two of them spilled out into the chilly afternoon.

In the distance, not too far from the cottage, he could see a group of riders fast approaching. They must be brigands, he thought, and the woman seemed to share that thought as she tugged him along towards a large horse. The woman jumped onto the saddle with practiced ease and Alaric soon joined her, the two of them rushing down the path as the brigands pursued them.

“I didnae ask ye yer name,” Alaric called, shouting so that she would hear him over the whistling wind.

“Lucia,” the woman shouted back. “Me name is Lucia.”

CHAPTER TWO

What Lucia Donnelly had been searching for was an avenging angel, someone who could help her finally have the revenge she deserved. What she found was a man who had been beaten to an inch of his life and who, the more time passed, the more he seemed to surrender to his injuries.

When she had first found him in the cottage, Alaric had been more or less alert, following not only her steps but also the conversation with no trouble. Now that they had escaped the brigands, though, he was leaning heavily against her, his arms loose around her waist as he held onto her while she was steering the horse to the nearest town. Lucia cursed under her breath. Those men had truly done too much damage and now she would have to take care of him and make sure none of his wounds were too serious.

Ever since asking her name, Alaric hadn’t spoken again, but Lucia could feel his uneven breaths on the back of her neck and the warmth of his body as he pressed up against her. The onlysounds around them were the wind and the horse’s hooves, loud and rhythmic against the soil as she rode as fast as she could down the path without running the risk of Alaric falling off. By the time they made it to the town, Alaric was barely hanging off her and keeping himself upright, and so Lucia had to help him off the horse, huffing with exertion when he put his weight on her.

All her training had built plenty of strength in her muscles, but even she was not prepared for the solid weight of Alaric’s towering figure. She took a moment to steady them both, wrapping one arm around him, and to his credit, Alaric seemed to force himself to be a little more alert now that they were walking towards the small inn.

“I thought… I was doin’ better,” Alaric said and though he struggled to speak, at least he wasn’t slurring his words. Lucia took that as a good sign, considering all the bruises and the cuts he sported on his face, which spoke of several blows being delivered directly to his head.

“Ye’re doin’ fine,” she assured him, even if it was a lie. “Ye just need tae rest.”

When she pulled him into the small, cramped inn, every person in the room turned to look at them, staring at Alaric’s slumped form. Fortunately for them both, there were only three of them—the innkeeper and two other men sitting at a low table by the fireplace.

In a small town like this, though, word would spread fast, and Alaric wasn’t exactly difficult to recognize. Not only did he resemble his brother from what Lucia had heard, but he also had tattoos covering a large portion of his body, along with countless scars underneath them. They couldn’t stay there for too long. You never know who might be watching.

Dragging Alaric over to the innkeeper behind the counter, Lucia put on the most distressed expression she could muster, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly as she spoke.

“Could we please have a room fer the night?” she asked. “An’… an’ if possible some hot water an’ cloth.”

“What happened tae him?” the innkeeper asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. That was the other issue, Lucia thought. Whoever didn't know who Alaric was would surely be wary of him with the way he looked. It was no wonder the innkeeper didn’t quite trust them. Alaric looked more like a brigand than most brigands did, with his tattoos, his scars, and the dark beard that gave him a rough and rugged appearance.

“He was attacked by brigands,” Lucia said. “Please… he isnae a bad man.

The innkeeper didn’t quite seem convinced, at least not until Lucia dug into her pocket with a sigh and gave him enough coin for more than two nights.

“Just fer the night,” she said. “Please.”

That was enough to convince him and within moments, Lucia held a key in her hand and a promise that they would soon have hot water and cloths in their room. Once she managed to drag Alaric up the stairs, she made him sit on the bed and then there was a knock on the door. Lucia opened it to find a young woman there with a tray in her hand with a pitcher of steaming water, a pitcher of wine, two cups, and a cloth on it.

Upon seeing Alaric on the bed, the girl paused by the door, her gaze flitting back and forth between them.

“Me faither told me tae bring ye this,” she said, and Lucia reached for the tray, placing it on top of the small dresser.

“Thank ye,” she said and promptly shut the door in the girl’s face.

She didn’t have time for this. She had to get Alaric back in working condition and get out of there.

The room was as small as the rest of the inn, holding nothing more than a bed which dominated the space, a dresser, and a washbasin. It was more than enough for one night, Lucia had slept in worse places.

She didn’t think she would be getting any sleep anyway.

Grabbing a piece of cloth, Lucia wet it with the hot water and walked over to the bed, carefully cleaning off the wounds on Alaric’s face. Though he hissed in pain every time she rubbed theblood off his skin, he remained still, letting her work and never once flinching away from her touch.

“Will ye tell me what ye want o’ me now?” Alaric asked and Lucia looked up at him to find him staring at her, his green eyes peering into hers. “Nay one is chasin’ us. We have time.”

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