Page 91 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

Ryland drew Esme to his side the moment they stepped outside the cottage. Snow whipped around them in wild gusts, biting at exposed skin and blurring the world to shades of white and gray. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight to him, shielding her as best he could from the storm’s fury.

“This way,” he said close to her ear, his voice a low rumble against the wind.

Esme tucked herself into him, her head beneath his chin, her arms wrapped around his waist, trusting him to lead the way.

Their boots left tracks in the deepening snow as they made their way, and a layer of snow soon covered their cloaks, the snow was falling so rapidly. The cold seeped through layers of wool and fur as they made their way along the barely visible path.

Ryland pressed on, determined to get Esme to the safety and warmth of the smaller cottage nestled just beyond a thicket of wind-blown trees. He was relieved when he finally spotted it and saw that smoke curled from the chimney in a slow, steady plume. Heat would be there to greet them.

He shouldered open the door and ushered her inside.

Warmth rushed over them, the fire crackling in the hearth, filling the space with much needed heat. The cottage was modest, a table and two chairs, a narrow bed against the wall, and shelves lined with crockery and baskets filled with root plants. It was a perfect sanctuary from the storm.

Esme stepped forward, snow trailing behind her, and held her hands out to the fire.

Ryland closed the door behind them, shutting out the wind and leaning back against it for a moment, watching her. Gone was the fear and worry of what might have happened to her when she left to meet the Old Woman with Breann as her only companion. Those meaning her harm could have found her, taken her, killed her. He chased the torturous thoughts away. She was here with him and safe, and though the Old Woman could be annoying, he was grateful she offered them sanctuary and grateful to the snowstorm that gave them this time alone.

Esme turned to him, her cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes bright. “Are you all right? I can only imagine how it feels to learn Torrance was your twin and separated from him.”

He went to her and slipped her damp cloak off her shoulders then slipped off his and went and hung them on pegs by the door to dry. He returned to her and circled her waist with his arms to draw her back against him.

“I believe I am too stunned by the unexpected news to fully comprehend it.”

Esme rested her arm over his at her waist, comforted by his strength. “What troubles me is how a mum could separate her twins, most likely, at birth. Unless she had no choice and if that is the case then my heart breaks for her.”

“Torrance never mentioned his mum. His sole thought was on one day ruling Clan Glencairn.”

“Did you ever think to ask either of your parents why you looked so much like Torrance?”

“I asked my da once since I didn’t want to hurt my mum with such a question. He told me that some things just don’t make sense, and one shouldn’t waste time worrying over it. I did hear him mumble something when I was leaving his solar. “‘From sacrifice miracles are born.’” Ryland gave her waist a gentle tug. “I didn’t understand what he meant though I do now. The sacrifice that I made brought me a miracle… you.”

She turned in his arms, her eyes misty. “I love you, Ryland.”

“You truly meant what you said in front of the Old Woman?”

“Every word,” she said softly then chuckled. “I thought I was going mad when feelings began to stir in me for Torrance. I couldn’t understand how I could feel something for someone so cruel. It truly was a relief to find out that I had fallen in love with a good man.”

His fingers slipped beneath her braid, brushing lightly along her neck, her silky soft skin stirring his desire for her. “I will be a good husband to you, Esme. On that you have my word.”

“A word I can trust and that means much to me after so much deceit.”

He leaned in, resting his brow against hers, his voice low. “Deceit is not something you ever have to worry about with me. I will be honest and sometimes bold with my words to you, like now when I tell you I want to strip you naked and make love to you.”

His blunt words sparked her passion sending a shiver of desire through her, and she whispered, “And what, may I ask, is stopping you?”

He grinned and went to kiss her when her stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he had left her hungry hours earlier.

“Ignore it,” she insisted.

“I think not,” he said, his grin turning wicked. “You will need fuel for what I have in mind.”

Her cheeks flushed imagining what he meant, and she had no intention of waiting too long to experience such pleasure.

“I spied some root vegetables in the baskets on the shelf. If you can fill that cauldron,” —she gave a nod to the black pot on the hearth stone— “with snow, then I can set a vegetable stew to cooking.”

“That will take time and you’re hungry now.”

“Aye, but hungrier for your touch than I ever thought possible.” Her hand rested on his chest and drifted slowly down lower and lower and…

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