Free The Laird's Captive Wife by Joanna Fulford Page A

terror. She could see her father and Ethelred locked in a desperate fight against overwhelming odds. Then Ban was there, shouting at her to flee. She tried to obey but her horse’s legs were moving too slowly and the Normans closed in. She saw her brother fall, saw his face as he went down beneath their swords. Then she was being dragged from the saddle and the soldiers closed round her, their leering faces filled with hideous intent. Their hands reached out for her and she began to fight. Somewhere she could hear a woman screaming…
    She awoke wide-eyed and panting with terror, struggling against the strong hands that held her.
    ‘Hush, lass, it’s all right. It’s all right.’
    Through her tears Ashlynn became aware of lamplight and the man beside her. With a jolt she recognised the face bending over hers and, involuntarily, her hands clutched hold of him.
    ‘But I saw them…Norman soldiers and Heslingfield burning…the bodies in the snow…and blood, blood everywhere.’
    As he listened Iain’s expression hardened, but his voice was gentle. ‘It was just a bad dream, lass. Nothing more.’
    With that, some of the terror began to ebb though her body was still shaking with reaction.
    ‘It was so real.’
    He drew her close, speaking softly, his hand stroking her hair. ‘The Normans canna hurt you any more, Ashlynn.’
    He continued to speak to her in the same gentle tone, as he might have spoken to a child. Gradually she grew calmer for his nearness was reassuring now, not threatening, and his strength comforting, like the smell of wool and leather and wood smoke from his clothing, smells that seemed familiar and soothing. Involuntarily she relaxed a little, letting her head rest against his breast. She could feel the steady thud of the heart within, beating like the blood in her ears. His arms tightened around her and she felt him drop a kiss on her hair. The touch was light but it sent a flush of warmth through her entire being. Ashlynn caught her breath and looked up, meeting his gaze and seeing there an expression whose intensity both excited and alarmed her. It aroused a feeling unlike anything in her life before. She felt his lips brush her temple and cheek, kissing away the tears they found there. Then his mouth sought her lips. The pressure increased, gently, until her mouth opened beneath his, yielding to a more intimate embrace that awakened other pleasurable sensations that she had not known existed: sensations that thrilled and appalled sending a delicious shiver through her entire being.
    Iain’s heartbeat quickened as he felt that sudden tremor and with a sense of shock he felt his own hardening response, unanticipated and undeniable. The kiss grew more passionate as memory stripped her clothing away. The fire leapt and, unable to contain it, he crushed her closer, hungry now, wanting her, every particle of his being aroused by the taste and scent of her, the feel of her body in his arms again. He lowered her onto the hay and followed her down.
    Unfastening her belt he pushed the tunic aside, sliding his hands beneath the fabric of her shirt, gently caressing, relearning with touch all the soft curves that his eyes had shown him before. The rediscovery sent a charge through the length of his body, a sensation of delight he had almost forgotten. Imagination outpaced him, turning his blood to flame.
    He reached for the lacing of her trews. Seeing that hot devouring gaze Ashlynn felt her heart lurch and without warning she was suddenly transported back to the ruined barn and her mind filled with flooding panic. Instinctively she began to struggle, her hands pushing him away, her voice catching on a sob.
    ‘No, no…please, I beg you, don’t!’
    The words acted on him like a bucket of cold water. Looking into her face he saw fear and reluctance and with that sight desire ebbed. He rolled aside and drew a deep breath, trying to calm the wild thumping of his heart, trying to quell the riot of his