Page 35 of A Plaid Case of Loving Ye
“I’m no’ afraid of rumors!” He didn’t even know her clan; how could he care what people thought of her? “My reputation—”
“No’ yer reputation, yersafety,” he interrupted. “I protect what’s mine, Nicola.” His voice was hard, and she saw his fingers tighten around the hilt of his sword. “If ye’re thought to bemine, then the rumors will protect ye.”
Mine.
The thought of being consideredhismade her throat go dry, made her stomach go all squiggly. Was she his? She’d been his briefly, last night, same as he’d been hers.
Mine.
She wanted that. She wanted to be his.
Didn’t she?
Nicola glanced down at the bairn in her arms, who was diligently trying to stuff a strand of her hair in his mouth. Gently, she unwound the red strand and tucked it back into her braid. She’d never wanted this—never wanted to be beholden to one person. One person who never appreciated what she did or who seemed incapable of reciprocating.
But Relic was different.Ramsaywas different.
She swallowed and lifted her eyes back to Ramsay. “Aye,” she agreed, her voice sounding rough to her own ears. “’Tis a smart idea, Ramsay. I’ll agree.”
He studied her for a long moment, then exhaled. It wasn’t quite a sigh, but close. Then he nodded once, briskly, and tugged on the reins, wheeling the horse about to point south.
Ramsay hadn’t exaggerated; hedidride hard and fast, and if Nicola were in a better frame of mind, she would have smirked at the chance to make a joke about coitus.
But she wasn’t, and she didn’t…because sheached.
Aye, she’d told the truth when she claimed she wasn’t a delicate flower, butdamnation, this pace was grueling. And last night…last night…
Her thighs ached and she was still sore. Having to constantly hold herself and the bairn upright in the saddle was making things even worse, and by the time they stopped for their noon meal, Nicola was afraid her legs wouldn’t carry her.
Thank St. Crystal that Ramsay seemed to guess.
As he lifted her out of the saddle, his hands lingered on her waist. Her gaze was locked on his shoulder, but she could feel him looking at her.
“Are ye well?” he murmured.
She forced her spine to straighten. “Aye, of course.” Still not meeting his eye.
“Nicola, I ken I hurt ye—”
“Nay!” she blurted. Then her eyes squeezed shut in mortification and she knew she couldn’t lie to him, not anymore. “I mean, aye, there was pain.”
“And now?” he prodded gently.
When she pulled from his hold, she managed not to fall over on her face, although ‘twas a close one. He seemed to take her movement as her response, because he grunted in approval and managed to spread a blanket one-handedly for Relic to stretch out on.
The bairn delighted in being on his stomach and arched his back, reaching for things placed in front of him—especially if ‘twas something he could put in his mouth.
“Watch this,” Ramsay commanded as Nicola returned from a trip into the bushes and joined them—joints aching—on the blanket.
“Aye?” She took the apple he offered.
Ramsay scooped up the bairn and laid him on his back. Fat little legs kicking angrily, Relic began to twist.
“Watch,” Ramsay whispered. “Go on, laddie, ye can do it.”
Relic used his left arm to push himself to the right, then he pulled his other arm, swung his leg, and—Nicola gasped as he rolled over onto his stomach.
“That’s a good laddie!” Ramsay crowed, patting the bairn’s arse fondly. “Ye’re advanced, I ken it!”
