Page 35 of A Virgin for the Icy Highlander
He’d considered that constantly since Grace had left his study. The thought had haunted his dreams when he’d finally retired to his bed, kept him from attending dinner and breakfast, and sent him out to this place at dawn to try and push her out of his mind.
Yet, she was a determined enemy, finding new ways to clamber over the walls of his discipline, invading his peace with her gasps and moans and the press of her lips against his. He could not forget the exploration of her hands, the way she’d pulled him closer, and how she’d kissed him back as if she had wanted him all along.
“Is it still nae enough?”he imagined himself whispering close to her ear.
“I want more. I want to know everything. Teach me,”the image of her replied in a silky voice as her legs wrapped around his waist.
He could practically feel the squeeze of her soft thighs, guiding him closer. He imagined her running her hands through his hair as he gathered her skirts to her hips, slidinghishand between those thighs, ripping away any undergarments that stood in his way. He imagined her pleading with him, begging him to show her more, urging him to claim her.
His loins ached, just thinking of the possibilities. How satisfying it would be to let his kilt drop and sink inside her heat, plunging into her depths as she cried out his name. There were so many things he could reveal to her, teaching her all the things that no school ever would.
And this is why ye’re in this situation, smackin’ yer sword into a tree at such an hour of the mornin’.
His eyes flew open, and he shook his head as if that would be enough to clear his mind of her.
“She wanted to get to ken ye, nae… anythin’ else,” he muttered, cursing under his breath.
He swung his sword in a figure eight, twisting with the movements, jabbing the blade forward before lunging backward, swinging the broadsword in a whistling circle. His whole body would be aching tomorrow, but he wasn’t concerned about that when he still needed to get through today.
I cannae ignore her all day, nae without good reason.
He wondered if he could venture out to the villages again and use the journey as a plausible excuse for his absence. Perhaps he could ride to the borders and stay there for a day or two, bringing the date of her decision closer without having to see her.
Then again, he had no idea if she would stay that long after what he had done. Perhaps she would leave today, figuring that what he had said about expectations had been a lie.
He was about to jump into another round of exhausting maneuvers when something moved in the corner of his eye, between two oaks that were safe from his blade.
It cannae be someone from the castle…
No one would follow him out to his private training grounds in the woods because all his kinsmen were unwilling to disturb his peace. Even Thomas kept his distance from this place, claiming he felt like the trees were judging him.
Right now, the treesdidseem to have eyes. Hunter could feel the burn up the back of his neck—a familiar sign that someone was watching him closely.
He saw the movement again and adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword. At that moment, he heard the faint thud of footfalls behind him.
One to me right, in the trees. Two or three behind me.
He whirled around, and his blade sliced the air in warning.
Two men stood in front of him. The third crept out of the woods to join the others. How they’d gotten so close without him noticing was a concern, but he had no one to blame but himself. He’d allowed himself to get distracted by thoughts of Grace, and with that mistake, these men had taken the opportunity.
“Can I help ye?” he asked, noting the swords in their hands and the grim determination on their faces.
These men weren’t just passing through or common thieves; they were there on purpose.
They lunged, slashing and jabbing clumsily, using their swords as weapons instead of as an extension of themselves.
Hunter caught the downward stroke of an enemy blade with his own, driving his foot forward to kick the man squarely in the chest. As the man flew to the ground, his arms flailing, Hunter parried another strike, bringing his fist up in a swift arc that caught the second attacker under the chin. The man’s head snapped back, but Hunter had no time to see if it was enough to keep the man down as he spun to face the third attacker.
An awkward forward thrust nearly came too close to Hunter’s side, but he dipped out of the way, and as the idiot stumbled with the momentum of his blade, Hunter brought the hilt of his sword down on the man’s back, between the shoulder blades.
None of his maneuvers were fatal. They weren’t meant to be, because if these men were dead, they wouldn’t be able to talk.
And Hunter wasveryinterested to know why they wore his enemy’s colors and bore his enemy’s crest on their chests. Shining brooches were pinned to their shirts as targets for his blade.
“The war is over, curse ye!” he rasped as he allowed the three men to lumber back to their feet. “Do ye want to follow yer previous Laird to the grave?”
Undeterred, they came at him again. This time, their movements were slower, giving him every chance to understand what they were going to do before they acted.
