Highland Barbarian (Highlander Series) by Langan Ruth Ryan

Author:Langan, Ruth Ryan [Langan, Ruth Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Scotland, New York Times Bestselling Author
Published: 2014-02-23T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Brice lay very still, fighting a wave of pain. His shoulder throbbed. His side ached. And something that resembled a flaming torch pierced his upper back.

He tried to roll over but there was a heaviness in his right arm and for one breathless moment he thought it might have been severed in the battle. His eyes snapped open and relief flooded through him as he gazed in wonder at the figure curled up alongside him.

Meredith lay facing him, her head pillowed on his arm, her hands resting lightly at his chest. Her hair spilled across the linens, a dark splash of color against stark white. Her breathing was slow, steady.

In these few moments before she awoke he took the time to study her. When had this fierce little woman taken over his life? How had she come to mean so much to him?

His men, on their frequent visits to his chambers, had relayed how she had ignored the threat of fire to stay with him, how she had stood up to Angus and Jamie when they had suspected her of aiding in his murder. Even the servants never seemed to tire of praising the way Meredith had protected him as fiercely as any she wolf during his recovery.

He had kidnapped her only as an act of defiance against the MacKenzies. It had been his intention to use her to flush out Gareth, and then to return her to her own people.

But now? Now he could not imagine being without her. Her presence filled these rooms, his home, his very life. And though he knew that her heart lay in the Lowlands, he yearned to change her mind.

If she returned his feelings, he reasoned, she would choose to stay here with him always.

If he truly cared for her, a little voice within him whispered, he would want only her happiness.

He did not love her. He could not. She was a lady, born and bred for the gentle life. And he was a Highlander, a barbarian.

But he did love her.

Love. Why was it never simple?

He had not meant to love her. And surely a woman like Meredith MacAlpin could never love the man who had stolen her freedom.

Meredith’s lids flickered, then opened. For a moment she was strangely disoriented. The eyes staring back at her were dark, narrowed in thought.

Brice watched as the last clouds of sleep were blinked away and reality set in.

Brice. She had fallen asleep practically in his arms. And though she was fully clothed, he had little more than a strip of cloth for modesty. As she realized where she was, Meredith pushed herself away from him and sat up.

He studied the flush that colored her cheeks, and noted the guarded look that came into her eyes. Wonder of wonders. This same bold woman who had stripped him of his clothes and tended to his wounds with all the skill and care of the queen’s physician, was now suddenly shy with him. Her reaction was oddly appealing.

Her hair fell in a tangle of curls and she dragged a hand through, pushing it away from her face.

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