The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy) (12 page)

Her heart turned heavy at the thought of her sisters. They had never been separated. They might go their own way doing the day, but they always came together for the evening meal, where they would share news of their day. They never lacked for conversation or for things to do together. Father had cautioned that one day they would need to separate and go with their perspective husbands, but they had ignored him. Then arrangements had been made for Heather to wed, and his warnings proved true.

Emma shook her upsetting thoughts away, especially with how she found herself feeling about Rogan. It was something that she could not dwell on, something that could never be.

A patch of nettle caught her eye and diverted her attention. She was careful not to touch the plant and get stung by the sharp hairs. She always protected her hands when picking the prickly plant. She would look for the young pale leaves, since they were most tasty when cooked. Unfortunately, the plants had barely sprouted so she left them to grow.

She continued exploring, and it was not until her shoulder began to truly ache did she realize that she had been away from the cottage longer than she had intended. It would not be wise to tire herself today when she would be riding endlessly over the next few days. She headed back to the cottage and noted as she went that she had gone farther than she had thought.

Gray clouds had settled in overhead by the time she stepped out of the woods. The beautiful day was over, but she was grateful that she had had a chance to give her mind a rest while she had explored.

She entered the cottage with renewed strength, though she felt the weight of her limbs.

“Bloody hell, where have you been?” Rogan shouted.

Emma jumped, startled by his booming voice.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“I went for a walk in the woods,” she said, wondering why he was so upset.

“A walk in the woods?” he said as if he did not quite believe her.

“The sun was bright, the air only slightly chilled, and I had the most persistent urge.”

“Never again,” he said his fist coming down on the table, sending a groan through the worn wood.

That did it. He had no right speaking to her as if she was a child. “I am not your wife to dictate to.”

He reached her in two strides, grabbing both her arms and holding her firmly. “Wife or not, never, ever frighten the hell out of me like that again.”

He was frightened? He had been that upset that she had been gone? She opened her mouth to offer an apology.

“Damn,” he muttered and captured her open mouth in a kiss.

Emma was so shocked that she froze, though his kiss thawed her fast enough. His lips were so strong and confident on hers that it made it easy to respond in kind, and it felt so natural to do so. A tingle permeated her body and turned to a jolt when his tongue slipped into her mouth to tease hers. The tingle grew as his kiss demanded more and strange sensations took hold of her and she thought... she thought that a kiss felt far more wonderful than she ever imagined it would.

Rogan felt as if he had lost control. He never wanted to kiss a woman as much as he had wanted to kiss Emma. When he had entered the cottage and discovered her gone, he had felt as if his heart had stopped beating. His thoughts had gone wild with possibilities of what might have happened to her, each worse than the previous one. His anger had mounted, and then she had entered the cottage and relief had flooded him. He had never been so happy to see someone and all he had wanted to do was grab her, hug her, and kiss her senseless. He had kept control of himself until... she had reminded him that she was not his wife. That had angered him even more and had made him want to claim her even more, and so he kissed her. And he did not want to stop kissing her. Never had a kiss twisted at his heart and gut like this kiss with Emma. And never did he ache to make love to a woman as much as he did to Emma.

The thought had him tearing his mouth away from hers and resting his brow against hers to catch his breath and calm his wildly beating heart, not to mention his thick, hard arousal. He wanted her like he had never wanted another woman, and it troubled him.

Emma tried to calm her breathing, but the kiss had somehow stolen much of her breath, leaving her feeling as if she gasped for air. And the tingles running through her body were relentless. They prickled her skin, turned her nipples hard, and tickled her senseless between her legs, and it was all quite delightful.

He is your sister’s future husband.

The voice in her head was like a slap to her face and she quickly pulled away from him, not that he stopped her, and she wondered if he had remembered the same.

Emma pressed her fingers to her lips that never felt so alive, so wonderful, and she stood nearer the hearth, staring down at the flames.

Rogan thought to apologize for his improper action and yet he could not bring himself to do so. He had wanted to kiss her long before now and he could not deny it, would not deny it. He was attracted to her much more than he had realized. The kiss had made him understand just how much he cared for Emma and just how much of a problem it presented.

Emma felt her worries descend heavily on her and her already tired limbs grew heavier. She placed her hand on the worn wooden mantle for support and her head drooped, too tired to hold it up any longer.

In the next moment, she was swept up in Rogan’s arms, tucked tight against his chest, and carried to the bed.

He laid her down with gentleness that touched her heart and she was ever so relieved when he sat beside her on the bed. She did not want him to leave her side. She had grown accustomed to him being there, and there, by her side, was exactly where she wanted him to stay.

“You need rest to heal. You should not have gone exploring the woods.”

“Perhaps, but I needed time away from my troubling thoughts,” she admitted.

“I would have accompanied you,” he said, brushing her hair off her brow and feeling it to make certain her fever had not returned, and was relieved to discover it had not.

“I needed time alone,” she said, wishing his cool hand would linger on her brow, a troubling thought, which had her saying, “We need to leave tomorrow.”

“Aye, that we do,” he agreed. “You feel well enough for it?”

“It does not matter if I do. We need to leave,” she said with an urgency that startled her.

“We will leave at first light.”

He turned, ready to leave her side, and she wished she could reach out and stop him. She did not want him to go. She wanted him to remain there with her, never to leave her side, but that was not possible. And as he walked away from her, she felt as if her heart broke in two.

She turned on her side, fearing tears that threatened would fall and she would appear a fool. How had this happened? How and when had she lost her heart to Rogan? A tear slipped out and ran down her cheek. Was what she feeling love? Could she have truly fallen in love with her sister’s intended?

Emma attempted to reason with herself. Surely, it was simply that Rogan had tended her in her time of need that had caused her to have such strong feelings for him. But it did not explain why he had feelings for her, for that could not be denied, especially after the kiss.

Another tear slipped out and down her cheek. She had never been kissed like that. Actually, she had been kissed only once when she was young and that had gone so badly that she had never wanted to be kissed again... until now.

Now she wished that Rogan would never stop kissing her.

“Emma, is something wrong?”

She choked back her tears to answer as calmly as possible, “No.”

“I feel your tears, Emma,” he said softly and his arms circled her, turning her and taking her gently in his arms to rest her against his chest. “I should not have kissed you, but I could not stop myself. The need to feel you, taste you, know that you were safe in my arms was too great to deny.”

His truthful words made her tears fall all the harder.

“I have never known such a loving kiss,” she said finally looking at him.

“You have known other kisses?” he asked, the idea annoying him.

“When I was young and barely eleven years, a lad who claimed to care for me, kissed me, though now I know it was nothing more than a peck on the lips.”

“Claimed to care for you?”

Emma felt the embarrassment of that moment return to haunt her and heat her cheeks. “He laughed after he kissed me and told me that my lips tasted like mud and that no one would ever love someone as ugly as me. He had made me think he cared for me so that he could win a wager with his friends that I would let him kiss me.”

“Daniel, the name you spoke when your fever raged. You said he never truly cared for you and you went to Heather for comfort,” Rogan said with an anger that could not be denied.

“She cradled me in her arms while I cried and Patience went and beat Daniel until he cried for her to stop.” She smiled. “She left him with two black eyes and a split lip.”

Rogan could not help but laugh. “I like your sister Patience more and more.”

“I believe she would also like you.”

“So then I am the first to truly kiss you?” he asked, wiping away the last of her tears. “Is that why you cry?”

“I cry for many reasons,” she said, not wanting to admit how much the kiss meant to her and how much she cared for him.

“You miss your sisters,” he said.

Another tear trickled from her eye as she said, “So very much.”

“Until I find them for you, I am here whenever you need me, and even afterwards if ever the need should arise.”

“You will make a good husband for my sister,” she said, though her heart ached at her own words.

Rogan did not respond. How could he when he believed he had made a mistake and would marry the wrong Macinnes sister.

“You should rest. You have had a busy day,” he said, slipping her out of his arms and down on the bed. He pulled the blanket up over her. “I will see to getting things ready for our departure tomorrow.”

Emma could do nothing but nod, tears once again flooding her eyes and she closed them tight to stop them from falling. Soon they would be home, whether it was his or her keep they went to, it did not matter. They would at least be able to keep their distance, no longer sharing a single room cottage, no longer sleeping with each other. The thought only managed to upset her more.

“Would you like me to fix more of your brew?” he asked.

“Yes, that would be nice,” she said, keeping her teary-eyes closed. She forced herself to think on other things and soon her tears faded and by the time he brought her the brew, she had regained her composure.

He slipped his arm beneath her back and with a strong lift sat her up in bed, handing her the goblet. He did not linger by her side, to her disappointment and also to her relief.

Rogan was in and out of the cottage, making ready for their departure tomorrow. Nightfall saw them enjoying the fish Rogan had caught for supper and when it came time for sleep, Rogan told her he had more to see to and would join her later.

He was keeping his distance and she could not blame him. She was glad he did, for she did not know what she would do if he kissed her again.

With her thoughts chaotic, she worried sleep would not find her this night, but her busy day and tired limbs proved otherwise and she was soon asleep.

Rogan watched her from where he sat at the table. How long had it been since he first met her? A week? Two weeks? He had lost all sense of time in his quest for Heather or was it Emma who had stolen time from him? And what else had she robbed him of... his senses?

He was fighting the urge to go to her, crawl in bed, and wrap himself around her. Consequences stopped him from doing so. He knew if he did, there was a good possibility he would do more than kiss her and from the way she returned his kiss, he knew she would not stop him.

He rubbed his hands over his face, then shook his head. Once they returned home all would be different. It would no longer be necessary for them to spend time together. His gut squeezed tight at the thought of them rarely seeing each other. Not to kiss her again, not to hold her, not to have her stubbornness challenge him... his gut twisted ever tighter.

What was the matter with him? He was a warrior who would become laird of his clan. His future had been planned since his birth. His father had given him a chance to find love, but he had failed to find it, and so a marriage was arranged. He had had no objections to it. He had even agreed with his father when he had advised Rogan to choose the beautiful sister over the plain one. He had made the choice not to accept Emma as his wife and now... he regretted it.

A low growl rumbled in his chest and anger made its way slowly through his body until his hands formed into tight fists. Now Emma would marry another, and he might just have to be the one who chooses her husband. And that did not set well at all with him.

You have a duty.

How often had his father reminded him of that? But his da had also discussed his choice of a wife with him. His da had been fair about it and in the end Rogan had agreed to the arrangement. He had no one to blame but himself.

He got up and turned away from Emma. It would do him no good to stare at her, for it made it all the more difficult to accept his fate. He would never have her; she would never be his.

Pain jabbed at his heart and anger jabbed at his senses once again. He almost laughed aloud at the irony of his situation. The fault was all his that the woman who had stolen his heart would never be his.

“Rogan!”

He turned at the sound of her calling out his name in such desperation and hurried to her side. She was asleep, though caught in a troubling dream or was it a frightening nightmare?

“I am here,” he said and went to take her in his arms. “Damn,” he muttered. Her fever had returned.

“Rogan, where are you?” she pleaded, her body twisting and her hands reaching out as if searching for him.

He quickly shed his clothes and got in bed, taking her in his arms as he settled beside her. “I am here, Emma. You have nothing to fear.”

She instantly curled in his arms, pressing her body hard against him and burying face against his naked chest. “Do not leave me. Do not ever lea...”

Her words drifted off as she stilled and fell into a contented slumber, and he tightened his arms around her. He wanted badly to tell her that he would never leave her that she belonged to him and always would, but that was not the truth. She did not belong to him.

He said the one thing that was the truth. “I love you, Emma, I will always love you.”