The Highlander's Stolen heart (Macinnes Sisters Trilogy) (17 page)

“A warrior went with her.” James could not help but add, “If you knew your wife, you would know that no amount of reasoning would stop her.”

“Careful with your words, old man,” Rogan snapped, annoyed that James was right. He should have realized Emma would do something like this. But he had taken precautions, and he intended to find out how his wife could have snuck past his warriors undetected. “When did she leave? And I caution you to tell the truth or pay the consequences.”

“She took her leave last night when all were asleep or passed out from drink.”

Rogan wanted to roar to the heavens, he was so angry. The thought of the danger she had placed herself in tore at his gut. “Ready your men,” he ordered. “We leave shortly.”

“Where do we go?” James asked, though knew.

“To bring my wife home,” Rogan snarled and jabbed a finger toward James. “And God help her when I get my hands on her, and God help you if anything has happened to her.”

Emma was exhausted, but she would not let that stop her. She did not care that her body ached from the long night’s hard ride, sleep would wait. She wanted to see her father and since it was well passed dawn, she did not worry he would be sleeping, resting perhaps, but awake.

When she had entered the village, shouts of welcome home had greeted her and the same now in the keep. All who saw her were happy she had returned. She had not realized how very much she had missed home and family until now.

Tears stung her eyes, wishing her sisters were here to welcome her as well, though she could not shake the ache in her heart for having left Rogan. She had not expected the separation to disturb her as much as it had. It was quite foolish of her, since he would no doubt follow after her. Yet, here she was missing him.

She shook her head. She had no time to ache for her husband—ache—was that what she was doing? Is that what love did? Make your heart ache and your soul feel empty when the one you loved was not close by? She had much to learn about love and oddly enough, she was looking forward to it.

Emma shook her head again as she stopped in front of her father’s bedchamber and knocked. “Father, it is Emma. I am home.”

“One moment,” he called out.

That struck her as odd. He had always bid her enter right away when she would knock at his door.

The door opened and Emma was relieved to see Maura. She was a few years younger than Emma’s father, tall and slim, with soft features and an equally soft voice. She kept her long pure white hair braided and thankfully had the patience of a saint, which was why she had been the perfect choice to tend her father.

“How is he?” Emma asked anxiously.

“Some days better than others, but today is a good day,” Maura said. “I will leave you to talk with him, and it is good to have you home.”

“It is good to be home,” Emma said and entered the room, relieved to see her father looking much better than when she had left. She had worried over being away from him, fearing he would not eat properly. He had always been a robust man, larger than life, so it was good to see that he had regained some of his stamina. It appeared Maura had taken good care of him and her own herb mixtures appeared to have worked well. Emma was hopeful that he would continue to improve and be his old self in no time.

She approached his bed with a smile.

“What are you doing here?”

Emma halted in her steps, surprised that he sounded as if he reprimanded her. Another time she would have lowered her head and apologized for what she did not know, but not this time. Things were different, much different.

With determined strides, she walked over to him with her hands planted on her hips. “I have questions that need answers and we will start with... why did you marry me to Rogan MacClennan?”

His shoulders slumped and his strength seemed to deflate with his heavy sigh. “I had no choice. I did it to protect the clan. The message I got was not from your sister.”

Emma felt her breath catch.

“A peasant delivered a message and told me he was paid handsomely to do so. The sealed message warned me to do as told or I would never see Heather or Patience again. I was to say that I received a message from Patience requesting more men. Shortly after the contingent of Macinnes warriors left with Liam, I received another message. I was to tell Angus MacClennan to do nothing until he heard from me, which I did. The message also warned that I was to do the same, say nothing, until I heard from this unknown person.” Donald turned tear-filled eyes on Emma. “The signature was that of a Dragon’s claw.”

Emma felt as if she could not breathe. It was true. The Dark Dragon had Heather and possibly Patience as well.

“I recalled the amendment I had placed in the marriage document and decided it was time to make use of it.” A tear ran done his cheek. “I am so sorry, Emma, but our warriors alone cannot protect us from the Dark Dragon. At least with MacClennan warriors, we have a chance. So I signed the proxy marrying you to Rogan MacClennan.”

Emma had to sit, her legs feeling as if they would no longer hold her. She lowered herself to the chair beside her father’s bed and asked a question she feared she knew the answer to. “What does the Dark Dragon want from us?”

Donald shuddered. “I think he wants Heather as his wife.”

This was a nightmare and Emma wished she could wake and find it gone. She could not imagine, sweet, thoughtful Heather wife to a cold-hearted bastard, or that she would never see her sister again. That could not happen. She could not let it.

“I see that stubborn look on your face and it will do you no good to think that you can rescue Heather. I will not lose the only daughter I presently have. You will stay put and do as I or your husband tells you until we can sort this out. I intend to send a message to King James requesting his help.”

Emma laughed, though it sounded more like a strangled cry. “The King even fears the Dark Dragon.”

“And well he should,” Donald said. “The Dark Dragon rescued him from a siege the King thought lost. The King owes him his life.”

“Then if the Dark Dragon wants Heather, he will have her,” Emma said her words turning her blood cold. She suddenly felt defeated, though more likely it was exhaustion that weighed heavily on her.

“I am fatigued beyond words, Da,” she said, slowly pushing herself up out of the chair. “I must sleep.”

“Your husband—”

“Is not with me, though I suspect he will be arriving later today or tomorrow.” She bent down and kissed her father’s cheek.

“I will see you after you have rested?” he asked and took hold of her hand. “I have missed you. I have missed all three of my daughters.”

“And I you, Da. We will talk later,” she assured him, needing to leave, not wanting him to see that his tears were bringing on her own.

She gave his hand a squeeze and hurried out of the room. She was not surprised to see a tub of steaming water in her room and food on the table by the window. The servants were well aware she preferred privacy, so no one waited to help her.

She let her tears fall as she washed. How could this have happened? Why did the Dark Dragon want Heather? Why not? Heather was beautiful. She shook her head, her heart much too filled with sorrow to think on it anymore. She would finish up, eat, and rest, then she would be able to think more clearly. She would not give up on her sisters. Never, ever would she give up.

Emma surrendered to sleep as soon as she pulled the blanket over her, grateful to slip away from all her worries, if only for a few hours.

~~~

Emma woke with a start, sitting up, and half expecting someone to be in her room, but she was alone. The fire had dwindled down and shadows hugged more than the corners, which meant she had slept into the evening.

Her skin prickled with gooseflesh, the room having taken on a chill and she shivered, though not from the cold. Something was amiss, she could feel it. She hurried out of bed and slipped on her robe. She opened the door and peered around the edge. The hall was empty and the silence deafening.

She hurried to the end of the hall and pushed the tapestry aside to look out of the slim opening. Her eyes could barely believe what she saw. Numerous campfires and glowing torches surrounded the village and a hundred or more warriors occupied the encircling camp.

Her husband had arrived, and he had brought an army with him. She was about to face the consequences of her actions, though she was not sure what those consequences would be.

She turned and froze. There at the far end of the hall, near her bedchamber door stood Rogan. The breadth of him seemed to consume the narrow hallway and the flicking torch light highlighted his handsome, though angry face.

He stared at her, his brow wrinkling, and then as if realizing it was her, he started toward her with heavy and determined strides.

Emma felt her heart swell and suddenly all she wanted was to be in his arms. Instinct took over and she ran toward him.

As soon as he caught the startled look in her eye, Rogan prepared himself for an altercation with his wife. She shocked him when her expression suddenly changed to one of longing, as if she had actually missed him. When she started running toward him, his heart slammed against his chest. He rushed toward her and when she flung herself into his arms, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her, and settled his mouth on hers. His kiss was hungry and he feed like a starving man, needing to taste deeply of her, needing to know she was real, here with him and safe.

His kiss robbed her breath and woke her passion, sending it soaring. What was it about this man’s kisses that turned her senseless and made her melt in his arms?

He kept his arms firm around her waist, her feet dangling several inches off the floor as he walked to her bedchamber. With a shove of his shoulder at the door, they entered and a forceful kick sent it closed.

The feel of her there in his arms made him hungrier for her. It was as if he had been deprived of her for far too long and all he wanted was to strip her bare and make love to her. And from her eager response, it appeared she felt the same.

He lowered her feet to the floor, his hands roaming down over her backside to give her full cheeks a squeeze as he pressed her hard against him. He wanted her, good God, how he wanted her. He groaned when she rubbed herself against him. She wanted him just as much, but...

With reluctance he tore his mouth away from hers, released her, and walked over to the hearth. He busied himself by adding logs to the fire while he tried to control the overpowering need to turn, grab her, and make love to her.

Emma felt her legs go weak as soon as he deserted her and she collapsed to the bed, grateful it was behind her and wishing that was where they both were right now—in bed making love. There was no worry, no pretense with Rogan, he truly wanted her. And to know that he wanted to make love to her as much as she did with him made her all the more eager to do so. She had always feared that an arranged marriage would bring a disappointed wedding night. Not so with Rogan. She had been fortunate to get to know him, care for him, fall in love with him and that made bedding him all the more appealing.

So, it disturbed her that he should stop when it seemed apparent that they both were fully agreeable to consummating their vows.

She refused to sit there in worry, so she spoke up. “Why stop?”

He dusted his hands before pointing a finger at her. “You disobeyed me.”

“So you punish me by making me want you, yet not satisfying me, though I daresay you punish yourself as well, for I felt your hard need for me.”

“And satisfying your hunger for me would be a good deterrent?” he asked with a shake of his head.

“It would be a start,” she said softly. “I knew if I came to you last night and we made love that I would never want to leave you—not ever. And I had to speak with my father.”

“I told you I would bring you here.”

“At your leisure,” she reminded. “I could not wait.”

“Stubborn!”

“Aye, you are,” she said with a smile.

He walked over to her, his anger having faded, though not his desire. He reached up and stroked her cheek. “You frightened me half to death. You could have been attacked and taken like your sister.”

“Is that why you brought an army of warriors with you?” she asked, resting her hand on his chest.

“No ghost warriors would stop me this time.” He lowered his lips near hers. “I will not lose you, Emma, not when I have just found you.” He brushed his lips over hers. “And not when I have realized just how much I love you.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, though no words came out.

Rogan whispered, “Perfect.” He settled his open mouth on hers and turned her senseless once again.

She ended the kiss this time and shook her head as she asked, “You truly love me?”

“With all my heart, and then some,” he said encircling her waist with his arms. “You stole my heart and I do not ever want it back. It belongs to you now.”

“That is only fair,” she said smiling.

“Why is that?”

“You stole my heart as well. No matter how hard I tried to keep it from you, knew I had no right to it, you managed to take all of it, even the broken part. I love you, Rogan.”

He kissed her again, soft and easy.

A knock sounded at the door and Emma shouted, “Go away.”

Rogan laughed, turned, and settled at her side, keeping his one arm firm around her waist. “Enter,” he called out.

A servant stuck her head around the door, as if fearful to obey his command.

“Enter,” Rogan reaffirmed with a wave of his hand.

“Sorry to disturb you, my lord, but I was told to see if my lady was awake and hungry.”

Emma blushed when her stomach answered loud enough for all to hear.

Rogan laughed again. “You have your answer.”

The servant nodded with a smile. “I will return shortly.”

Rogan pulled Emma into his arms. “Wise servant, she lets us know we have only a short time before her return.” He kissed her quick, and then stepped away. “Not enough time to make love to you. Besides, you have rested and now you need to be well fed so that you will have enough stamina for us to make love.”

Emma laughed this time. “And have you rested or eaten since arriving here?”

He walked over to her and ran his finger down along her slim nose, tapping the tip as he said, “Whether I did or not, I will always have the stamina to make love to you. You on the other hand...” He smiled, purposely letting his words trail off.

She poked him in the chest. “Is that a challenge?”

“One you could never hope to win.”

She walked her fingers up and down his chest. “Perhaps, but you forget that you have lain with other women, while I have never known a man.” Her hand slowly made its way down the length of him. “And I hear that once a woman tastes a man,” —she grabbed his covered manhood—“she hungers for more.”

He took hold of her chin. “Feel me growing larger? Keep squeezing me like that and when the servant returns she will find me poking you good and hard.”