Highlander Most Wanted

chapter 42





Bowen held Genevieve close to him, nestled in the curve of his arm. He kissed her forehead and rubbed his hand up and down the silken skin of her arm as he lay contemplating the past few days.

They’d been idyllic. Borrowed time. Genevieve seemed so happy here. Her eyes were filled with a joy and light that he hadn’t seen when they were at McHugh Keep.

He knew the decision to take her away and have her reunited with her family here had been the right one. She needed distance from the place that had brought her so much pain and suffering.

But with each passing day, and each passing night spent in each other’s arms, he drew closer to the time when they would have to part, and a little piece of him died with every hour.

She stirred against him, whispered a sweet sigh of contentment, and then settled back into sleep.

The urgency with which he took her had increased with each stolen night. She’d barely settled into sleep before dawn had crept over the horizon, and he’d remained awake, watching her, soaking in every detail of her body, committing it to memory so that those images would sustain him through the coming years.

He knew he would never take a wife. He had no duty to fulfill or heirs to beget. There was no other woman for him than Genevieve. No other woman would ever fill the hole in his heart left empty by this brave, courageous lass who’d so captivated him.

A soft knock sounded at his door, and his pulse raced. He disentangled himself from Genevieve and carefully eased from the bed so as not to disturb her. When he opened his door, Graeme stood on the other side, his expression grim and regretful.

“I received word from our patrol. The McInnises come flying their banner. They move with great haste and, at their current pace, will arrive in an hour’s time.”

Bowen’s heart sank. He knew that it was likely the McInnises would waste no time once they received word that Genevieve was alive, but he’d hoped for a few more days. Just one more night to hold her in his arms.

“I’ll inform Genevieve and give her time to prepare,” Bowen said quietly.

Graeme’s face was a grimace of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Bowen. I know this is not easy for you.”

“No, but ’tis what’s best.”

He turned, leaving his brother and shutting the door behind him.

Genevieve was awake, levered up on her elbow. Her hair was in disarray, and she gave him a sleepy look as she watched him approach.

“Is aught amiss?” she asked.

He couldn’t even form the words. They stuck in his throat until he threatened to choke them.

He slid onto the bed, sitting on the edge, and gathered her hands in his. “There is something I must tell you.”

Worry flooded her eyes and she sat up further. She attempted to pull her hands from his, but he refused to relinquish his hold.

He took a deep breath, expelling it slowly.

“When we departed McHugh Keep, I sent word to your family that you were alive and that I was taking you to Montgomery Keep.”

She went absolutely still, her eyes so wounded that it nearly slayed him.

“Why?” she whispered in a cracked voice. “Why would you do such? You knew I did not want them to know of my shame. Do you have any idea what this will do to them?”

He swallowed and pulled her hands higher to his chest. “Aye, I know it, Genevieve. But I see the sadness in your eyes when you speak of them. I know what it would do to me to think my sister dead. I know you’ll never be truly happy—or free—unless you face this, face them.”

“And so you made the decision for me,” she choked out. “When I’ve had all my choices taken from me, you would do the same.”

“I do this because I love you,” he said, finally speaking the words he’d held so close to him. “And I want you, but, more than that, I want you to be happy. I want you to be whole again, and ’tis my feeling that you’ll never be healed until you are reunited with your family—the people who love you. Almost as much as I love you.”

Tears filled her eyes and slid unchecked down her cheeks. Then she flew into his arms and wrapped herself around him as tightly as she could.

“I’m so scared, Bowen,” she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. “What if they reject me? What if they look upon me in shame? I could not bear it. I would prefer they never knew I was alive than for them to suffer my presence, knowing they are shamed by my very existence.”

“They’ll not do such a thing,” Bowen said, his heart breaking at the fear in her voice. “I won’t allow it. I’ll not send you into such a situation, Genevieve, I vow it.”

Slowly she pulled away from him, vulnerability shadowed in her eyes. There was nothing he wanted more than to shut the door to the world and keep her locked to his side for the rest of their days. But he knew this was what she needed. Healing. The love and support of her family. She would never be whole, and he would only have part of her. He wanted her happiness and well-being above his own. Even if it tore his heart out of his chest to let her go.

“When do they arrive?” she asked in a small voice.

“Within the hour. Graeme brought word from a messenger that they were an hour away and riding swiftly. They must have come the moment they received my missive.”

She hastily wiped at her tear-stained face. “I must make haste. I need to dress, and my hair is a mess.”

Bowen leaned forward and kissed her slow and sweet. “I’ll send Rorie and Eveline to attend you.”

He reluctantly rose and started for the door.

“Bowen?”

He turned back and she launched herself into his arms once more, pressing her mouth to his. She kissed him hungrily and with quiet desperation. A farewell.

He held her close, crushing her in his arms, holding her as if he’d never let her go.

And then, because if he didn’t leave her now he never would, he gently pulled himself from her grasp and walked away.