Free Highlander's Caress: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 2) by Joanne Wadsworth

annoying to wake up next to you.” He foraged within his bag, pulled out a tunic and eased the soft blue cotton over his head then thrust a pair of brown rawhide breeches under the covers and shuffled into them. Once dressed, he slipped out, stuffed his feet into his boots and sheathed his claymore at his side before passing across her bag someone had kindly thought to leave for her. “Hamish hung your wet clothes on the branch behind you. Dinnae forget to collect them.”
    “Thank you.” She flipped open the top flap of her bag, pulled out her blue breeches and cream tunic, shoved them under the blankets and dressed while he turned his gaze away. “We might be mated, but clearly ’tis too dangerous for me to stay here with you when one of your men tossed me overboard. Even though he apologized for having to do so, I must still leave. I cannae take the risk to my life, no’ when Ethan needs me, my mama too.”
    She shuffled out of their warm cocoon, tugged her riding boots on and slid her dagger inside an ankle sheath.
    “I’ve already told you that none of my men would dare harm a lass. You must be mistaken.”
    “I understand your loyalty belongs to your men, and rightly so.” She couldn’t fault him for his trust in his men. “Although there have simply been too many years of warring between our clans that cannae be forgiven or forgotten. So many fear my skill as well, particularly when ’tis well known I could kill a man if I wished, and with only one word.”
    “I’ve given you my vow of protection.”
    “I’m most grateful for it, but it isnae enough at present.”
    “You’re remaining here with me, and I’ll have it no other way.”
    “Spoken like a true mate.” On her toes, she smiled and kissed his cheek. “Mayhap we’ll continue this conversation later. I require a few moments of privacy so I might tend to my needs.”
    “Of course, although dinnae wander too far.” He stormed down toward his guardsmen.
    Wonderful. It appeared she’d been gifted with the most stubborn mate there was. She slung her black coat on and once wrapped within its warmth, ducked into the trees. She trekked a hundred feet inland then once she’d found a thick bush, crouched behind it. Done, she walked back to the beach and washed her hands at the water’s edge.
    Duncan still stood with his two guardsmen, his arms crossed over his wide chest while behind him the sun breached the horizon and sent a heavenly wash of gold and pink streaming through the pale blue sky. The ocean’s skyline outlined him to perfection, her warrior who was armed and ready for the trials of the day to come. Unfortunately, she’d likely continue to be one of them.
    She plodded to her bag and sat, pulled out an oatcake and ate. As she finished her meager meal, a team of his men trekked out of the woods with a dozen fish hanging from a long stick between them.
    Two of the men set their catch over the fire, added more logs to keep it ablaze while the others dispersed about the beach, some washing up where the waves tumbled into shore and others perching on low boulders along the grassy verge of the bank. None cast her any strange looks or seemed overly worried about her. Who on earth had decided to do her harm? If she could pinpoint the man, ’twould make things far easier.
    Another team of men returned, the warrior at the head holding clear Viking heritage, his pale hair shining a golden-white in the morning sun and his legs as thick as tree trunks.
    “Ivor!” Duncan hailed the man over and the Viking joined him. Gripping the man’s shoulder, Duncan asked, “Did you find aught?”
    “We tramped to the village at the tip of Loch Ainort, spoke to a lad who said no fog had descended on them. The boy had caught sight of a vessel out on the water during the night, one holding six or seven men. It sailed on down Loch na Cairidh toward the Isle of Scalpay. Once we learnt of this, we turned and tramped back.”
    “That’ll be Gavin MacDonald