The Highlander's Triumph
regard you as some type of hero.”
    Brandon chuckled. “Master of the elements.”
    “Has a nice ring to it.”
    “Aye, a verra nice ring.”
    “What will happen when we arrive at the castle?”
    Brandon’s warm arm pressed against hers and for a moment as he adjusted his hold on the cloak, his hand brushed hers sending fiery tingles up her arm.
    “ A room will be prepared for ye, along with a bath and a platter of food.”
    “And wine?”
    “If ye so desire.”
    “I do.” She paused a moment, biting her lip. Would he take a respite then once again be on his way? Her mind begged the question of whether she’d see him again. He was after all a warrior—and a laird far from his own home. Would he leave her in the care of Scotland’s future king and fare-thee-well? “Shall you be joining me?”
    Brandon tensed a moment, before he chuckled. “I hardly think the Bruc e would allow me to bathe with a noble born lady—might ruin my reputation.”
    Mariana chuckled. “Your reputation? Is it so sterling?”
    “Och, aye, ye have no idea how pristine.”
    “Somehow I think you find yourself rather amusing.”
    “The question is , do ye find me amusing?” His voice went low, deep and sensual.
    Oh, indeed she did find him amusing. Arousing. Tempting. But she couldn’t very well tell him all those things.
    “Perhaps,” she said.
    When he laughed, the soft rumble in his chest vibrated against her cheek. Mariana squeezed her eyes shut, savoring the moment, for once she felt safe, despite traveling through treacherous territory in the dead of night. The sense of calm that filled her since meeting Brandon was shocking, and wonderful, but it instilled in her a fear she didn’t care to explore.
    “Look there, Mariana.” The way he said her name sent a chill of longing up her spine. Pulling her head from against his back, she looked on. “Ye see the torches through the trees?”
    “ Oui. ”
    Light twinkled all over, glowing in the darkness like stars falling from the skies.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “’Tis the castle.”
    A rush of relief filled her. Soon she’d be warm and behind thick walls without the threat of Ross at their backs. “’Tis beautiful.”
    “Aye.”
    “Is your own home like this?”
    “Nay, lass. Castle Girnigoe is on the east coast of Caithness, in the far north. Built on a cliff and surrounded by water on two sides. Not on an island like Eilean Donan.”
    “Sounds mysterious. Did you play in the water often as a child?”
    “Aye.” He flashed her a smile. “I still do sometimes.”
    Mariana laughed. “I would like to see you frolic in the sea.”
    “Och, a warrior never frolics.”
    Mariana tried to hide her smile at the images floating in her mind, but it was hard to do.
    T hey broke through the trees, a bridge loomed ahead, and she could see that the lights from the castle reflected in the water, making it sparkle all the more. “ C’est magnifique !”
    “I dinna speak French, my lady, but I take it from your enthusiasm, ye like what ye see.”
    Mariana smiled, and with her best Scottish brogue whispered, “Och, aye, my laird. ’Tis verra pleasing to the eye.”
    Brandon let out a hearty laugh that drew the attention of several others. “Mariana, ye give me pleasure with your Scots Frenchie words.”
    Mariana joined his laughter, noticing with acute awareness that he’d gripped her hand, encompassing her in his massive grip.
    “Know this, lass, if ye ever need anything, ye need only ask.”
    Did he realize what he implied with his invitation? There was something she needed. Wanted. Longed for. Oh, how simple it would be to request his presence in her bedchamber, sans weapons and clothes, to let her worship him the whole night through. That she now knew that the years she’d spent pleasuring other men, only led to this moment where she could choose who she pleasured and dared hope for a bit of pleasure in return. Instead, she ceased chewing her tongue and said, “I

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