Forever Mine #3
Braden’s jaw clenched as he glanced away. “Are there any herbs I can get for you? Anything that could help him?”
“Only time and prayers can help him right now. I’ve cleaned the wound, used herbs to speed the healing, and stitched him. There is nothing more.”
“Colin is a good man. I wouldna see him die.”
Jean gave a small nod of her head. “Then I will leave you to your duties and return to mine. Sorry to have disturbed you.”
She had turned and reached for the cloth to exit when his words halted her.
“Thank you.”
Jean looked back at Braden and lost herself in his blue eyes.
There was something about him, something in the way he held himself, and spoke, and treated others, that made him a natural leader.
He was young, but even the older, more experienced Highlanders followed him because they knew this young man was the answer to their prayers.
“It is I should thank you. You’ve taken a stand against Niall when others wouldn’t dare.”
Braden had known Jean would disrupt his life the moment he had set eyes on her. She was beautiful, headstrong, and unyielding.
She was exactly the type of woman he would want for himself. If he had time for a woman.
Her long light-brown hair was thick and straight, held away from her oval face in a braid that fell over her shoulder and came to rest beside her breast. She had skin the colour of cream and it was unblemished except for a small mole on the right side of her wide, full lips.
Dark brows curved gently over large, expressive tawny eyes.
Though she was of average height, she had the bountiful curves he had coveted at first sight.
There was no doubt Jean MacKay had snatched his attention from the instant he saw her.
She was a distraction he could ill afford. But one he couldn’t do without.
In two strides, Braden was before her. He let the pads of his fingers stroke the barest of touches down her smooth cheek before he dropped his hand.
How long had it been since he’d held a woman? Since he had felt warm flesh, touched silky skin, or kissed soft lips? How long had it been since he’d sunk between a woman’s thighs into her hot, wet heat?
The aching need clawing his belly for Jean was enough to warn him to steer clear of the beauty. Though his mind told him to leave, his body – and his heart – urged him to stay.
He was powerless to do anything but. Jean was like a bright ray of light in his dark, dreary world of death and vengeance.
The hope he saw in her tawny eyes restored the fire inside him. He burned not just for a victory over Niall, but he burned for her.
His hands itched to pull her against him. He wanted her body pressed tightly to his own. The need was so strong, so potent, that Braden found himself leaning towards her.
He bit back a groan when he saw her eyes widen and her lips part. God help him but he was going to get his first taste of the stunning Jean MacKay.
Their bodies were just breaths apart. The pulse at her neck was erratic and rapid, as if she too longed for the kiss. That knowledge made Braden’s hunger swell and intensify.
Her hand brushed his as she leaned towards him. Braden slid his fingers between hers until their hands were clasped. He could feel the heat of her skin, hear the breath pass through her lips.
Her gaze was fastened on his mouth, and it was all Braden could do not to crush her against him. The ache in his cock and the yearning, the longing, was too much to bear.
He would have his kiss.
He would have Jean.
“Braden!”
He bit back a curse. Jean turned away from him as Rory entered the tent. Braden glared at his friend.
Rory looked from Braden to Jean and back again before he sent Braden an apologetic grimace.
“What is it?” Braden asked.
“The women and children of clan MacKay are once more with their families. They want to know when Jean will be returned.”
“When I know Colin will survive,” she answered before Braden could.
Braden looked at her before turning back to Rory. “Thank you for seeing them to their clan. You did tell them Jean was safe?”
“Aye,” Rory said with a firm nod of his red head. “Her father, Laird MacKay, wasna pleased to hear she is here.”
Braden felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. How many times had he spoken with Laird MacKay? How many times had he been to their clan, sat inside the castle? But not once had he ever known the laird to have a daughter.
He could only assume the laird had made sure Jean was nowhere near when Braden visited.
Braden turned to Jean. “You’re Laird MacKay’s daughter?”
She gave a small shrug and crossed her arms over her chest. “My father raised me to follow my heart and make the right choices. He knows I’m here because I want to be.”
“Aye,” Rory said. “The old laird said much the same thing. He did give me a warning to pass to ye, Braden.”
Braden sighed, knowing what was coming. “What might that be?”
“He said that if one hair on her head is harmed, he’ll be coming for you.”
MacKay was one man Braden wanted kept as a supporter. He did not need him as an adversary. But Braden’s hunger for Jean was going to be difficult to control.
As if knowing his thoughts were on her, Jean said, “I need to return to Colin.”
Braden watched the sway of her hips as she walked from his tent. His blood was on fire as need rode him hard, begged him to take the woman into his arms.
“I’m no’ sure you should be dallying with MacKay’s daughter,” Rory said.
Braden faced his friend. “Aye. The lass isna for me.”
“Good. Now, do you want the news on Niall?”
Three
Jean couldn’t stop herself from touching the spot on her cheek that Braden’s fingers had brushed. The contact had been so fleeting, so soft, that it was almost as if it hadn’t happened.
But she had felt the stroke of his fingers, had felt the heat of his skin.
It had left her shaken, dazed. His bright blue eyes had darkened with desire, and the not-so-firm grip Jean had on her control had vanished.
All she had wanted was Braden’s kiss. She had yearned to know the taste of him, to feel the width and breath of his shoulders beneath her hands.
Jean exhaled loudly and walked into the tent to see Keith still sitting beside Colin.
“Lass, are you all right?” Keith asked, a frown marring his tanned face.
Jean nodded. She feared she wouldn’t be able to speak, so she didn’t even try.
“Nothing has changed. I had hoped he would shake off the fever by now.”
Jean put her hand on Keith’s shoulder and squeezed. “One never knows with a fever. Colin is strong. He will be able to rid himself of the infection.”
“I pray you’re correct,” Keith said as he rose to his feet. He looked at her a moment with shrewd, knowing eyes. “You’ve seen Braden.”
“Aye. He was curious as to Colin’s recovery.”
Keith grunted in response. “I’ll be near. Just let me know if you need anything.”
Jean resumed her seat next to Colin and wrung out the cloth to dab along his heated skin. She had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.
Braden rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He’d been poring over the maps with Keith and Rory, hoping to discern where Niall had disappeared.
“We almost had him,” Rory said.
Braden slammed his hand on the table. “Almost isna good enough. He’s gone.”
“We’ll find him,” Keith stated in his usual calm voice. “There aren’t many places he could have gone.”
Braden began to chuckle. He realized there was only one place Niall could be. “He’s at MacAlister Castle.”
“We have spies there,” Rory said. “They would have seen him.”
Braden’s frustration grew with each day that passed that Niall still lived, so he understood the irritation that filled Rory’s words. “He went through unseen just as he did when he came into my home before and murdered my father, my uncle and my sister.”
“He’s not human,” Keith muttered.
Braden had long believed that Niall had sold his soul to the devil. He hated even admitting the bastard was related to him, but there was no denying Niall was his cousin.
Few knew that small detail, but the ones who did understood why Braden was so determined to stop the bastard.
“You know the castle better than anyone, Braden,” Keith said. “I’ve told you before, we can get inside and take him. Your people are still loyal to you.”
Braden’s mind raced with possibilities. “It may come to taking the castle. We’ll need more men.”
“MacKay said you could count on him. There are other lairds who would join you as well,” Rory said.
Braden looked from Rory to Keith before he nodded. “Get everyone to send some men. We’re going to need all the Highlanders we can get.”
He turned on his heel and started towards the entrance when Keith’s voice stopped him.
“Where are you going? Doona you want to begin to plan?”
Braden couldn’t think of anything but tawny eyes and full, ripe lips begging to be kissed. “I need to check on Colin. I’ll return shortly.”
As he exited Braden could have sworn he heard Keith snort. He didn’t care that Keith knew the real reason that he wanted to check on Colin was to see Jean.
Braden cared about his men. All of them. They risked their lives every time they went into battle against Niall. But, this time, it wasn’t Colin that kept intruding on his thoughts.
He ducked inside Colin’s tent to see Jean slumped over, her head on her arms as she slept. Braden watched her for a moment, content to take in the sight of her at his leisure.
There had been many women who had caught his eye, but none had made him burn as Jean did. What was it about her? She was head-turning with her midnight locks, ochre eyes, and body made for sin. But it was the fire inside her, so like the untamed spirit he himself possessed, that called to him.
Braden had kept himself detached from anyone other than his men for fear that Niall might use them against him. Braden was already testing fate merely by keeping Jean in his camp. If Niall ever discovered how much Braden wanted Jean, her life would be over.
Despite the warnings in his mind, Braden couldn’t keep away from her. He crossed the distance between them on silent feet.