Free The Highlander's Forbidden Bride by Donna Fletcher Page A

we’ll see.”
    Ronan never found conversation lagging with Carissa. If he wasn’t asking her questions she was asking him. Whether she was cooking or they were sitting by the fire, they talked.
    “Tell me, did you enjoy your time with the mercenaries?” she asked, joining him in front of the fire after the morning meal.
    He ignored her question, and instead asked, “Why did you sell me to the mercenaries?”
    “What makes you think I sold you? You were my father’s prisoner.”
    He silently cursed himself though what did it matter now? Hope was gone. What difference did it make if Carissa learned the truth? “Your slave informed me that it was you who convinced Mordrac to sell me to the mercenaries.”
    “I knew she was feeding you information,” Carissa said angrily. “And she could not hide her feelings for you. I believe the poor fool even thought that you would rescue her.” She shook her head and laughed. “How ridiculous of her to think that one man could rescue her from a horde of barbarians, let alone my father.”
    “I would have rescued her,” Ronan said.
    “Don’t be a fool,” she chided. “There was no way possible for you to have rescued her.”
    “I would have,” he insisted adamantly. “There was no way that I intended to leave her there. I was coming for her and nothing—not even Mordrac himself—would have stopped me.”
    She stared at him, her blue eyes wide. “You loved her that much?”
    “I did. I still do. I’ll never stop loving her.”
    “You did not know her long enough to love her,” she said.
    “I knew from when she first spoke to me,” he said remembering. “Her voice was soft and gentle and her touch kind. It didn’t take long to realize how special she was, or for my feelings to stir for her. She was easy to love. There was no pretense about her. She was who she was…a kind soul. And she tempted her own fate, sneaking me extra food and blankets and visiting with me late at night when all was quiet.”
    “I knew it,” Carissa snarled.
    “Is that why you had me sold?”
    “You should be grateful to me,” Carissa snapped. “You two could have never been.”
    “Yes, we could. All you had to do was to let her go,” he said with a touch of sadness.
    Carissa stared at him, and he thought for a brief second he saw regret, but then her blue eyes turned icy cold.
    “She was a slave.”
    “Not anymore,” he said. “She’s free.”
    “Yes,” she agreed with a nod. “Death does that.”
    They both sat silent, staring into the flames, lost in their own memories.
    Ronan finally broke the silence. “We need to move the bed.”
    “Why?”
    “The draft from the wall is too much.”
    She smiled. “You worry I will catch a chill.”
    “And die before I can kill you myself.”
    “Do you truly intend to kill me yourself?” she asked.
    He ignored her question. “Help me move the bed.”
    She shrugged. “To where?”
    “In front of the hearth.”
    “That would be wonderfully cozy.”
    Again he ignored her and walked over to the bed. She followed him.
    He looked her up and down. “I doubt you have the strength to help me.”
    “I have more strength than you know.”
    “Then prove it,” he challenged.
    And she did. Together they managed to position the bed lengthwise in front of the hearth, a perfect distance from the flames, so as not to be too warm or too cold.
    While she folded the blankets at the foot of the bed, allowing the heat to warm the bedding, he moved the chest to the end of the bed.
    “We will need to be vigilant in tending the fire,” he said. “We don’t want any sparks to jump from the hearth to the bed.”
    She plopped down on the bed with a grin. “You’re right. We best make sure no sparks ignite the bed.”
    He shook his head. “You don’t even tempt me.”
    “Pity,” she said with a pout.
    He sat in the rocker, which remained by the hearth.
    “Will you grant me a last wish before I die?”
    “That depends on the wish,” he