Highlander's Guardian (Highlander Heat #4)

“W-wait.” Hugh gulped in a breath. “I give you my word I’ll never attempt such a misdeed again, no’ against any woman.”


“That’s better, much better.” Colin handed Rory back his arrow. “Excuse me. I have to feed my wife. Feel free to continue without me.” He steered Annie toward the fire and spread out a tartan blanket one of the warriors had left there.

She sat and breathed in the succulent meaty aroma wafting toward her as across the river, the sun rose higher over the treetops and bathed them in its late autumn warmth. ’Twas beautiful this part of Scotland, but she missed the Western Isles, the crashing of the ocean’s waves, the squawking seagulls, and children’s giggles as they played along the beach. The isles were stunning with their glistening lochs and bens and moors.

Colin settled in behind her, his legs either side of hers. “What are you thinking that has that wistful look on your face?”

“I long for home.”

“Soon, but no’ yet.” He tugged her back until she rested against his chest. Gently, he twined a lock of her hair around his finger, his warmth fully enclosing her. “You have the most beautiful hair. ’Tis so pale it shines like liquid gold.”

“It does?”

“Aye, and I want to see it lying across my pillow every night.” He selected one of the sticks of meat, tore off a chunk and slipped the morsel between her lips.

“That could be arranged.” She plucked a piece of meat from the skewer and fed him.

In silence they ate as the other warriors wandered across and grabbed some food. A few men remained close to the fire and others strolled down to the stream.

Near the horses, Rory stowed his bow and arrow then ambled across. He perched on a low boulder after choosing a skewer and glanced at her. “We’ll need to leave soon. Do you feel up to the ride?”

“Aye, I’m fine, and I dinnae care to leave Elizabeth worrying for too long.”

“Then we’ll leave once we’ve eaten.”

Colin slid her hair over her shoulder and dropped a soft kiss on her neck.

Frowning, Rory eyed Colin and she eased across and blocked his view of her man.

Rory tapped his foot. “Annie, Colin can fight his own battles.”

“Aye, but my wife is too protective by far,” Colin rumbled over the top of her head.

“If I’m too protective, ’tis for a very good reason.” She nodded at Rory. “You’ve looked after me for three years and for that I’ll be forever grateful, but I’ve chosen the man I wish to spend my life with.”

“Aye, so I’ve seen, although you’ll always have my protection, whether you ask for it or no’.” Rory chewed his meat. “You are more than a cousin to me. You are a sister in many ways.”

She touched her heart. “And I consider you my brother.”

“Sisters can also be rather annoying.” A sly grin spread across his face as he stood. “Let’s leave. ’Tis time to ride out.” He kicked dirt over the fire and extinguished it, his decision to accept their relationship clearly made.

“Well, that went far better than I expected.” She jumped to her feet and grasped Colin’s hands. “I dinnae know what you were so worried about in speaking to Rory.”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “I’ve no idea.” He stood and adjusted the front ties of her fur cloak, ensuring it was well secured for the ride.

Across the meadow, two MacLeod warriors slung Hugh and Fergus belly-down across their mounts’ saddles. Their return ride wouldn’t be pleasant, but at least they had their lives.

She crossed to Colin’s destrier and he boosted her up then slid in behind her. With his arms around her waist, he grasped the reins and nudged his horse to follow the rest of their party.

With her hands on his black leather clad thighs, she relaxed into the ride as they galloped through the forest and across the grassy moors. Birds chirped high above the rolling fields of heather, and she smiled as Colin sang a gentle tune. ’Twas a Scottish song of bens and burns and of the hearth and home, one she knew well. “It’s been an age since I’ve heard that. My mother used to sing it all the time when she pottered around her kitchen.”

“That’s where I learnt it.” He rubbed his chin over the top of her head.

“I remember those days as if they were yesterday. You used to sit at the table next to your mother when you visited. You’d no’ move until the oatcakes had cooled, then you’d pinch the biggest one afore I could get my hands on it.”

“You didnae need the biggest one when you were so little,” he whispered in her ear.

“And you were too big to argue the point with.”

“I still am.”

“Aye, but I like how big you are now.” She half-turned and grinned at him. The wind whipped his dark shoulder-length hair behind him, the blond tipped ends adding a rakish look she completely adored. “Hopefully you willnae argue with me quite so often anymore.”

“I highly doubt that, unless you suddenly learn how to follow my orders.”