Page 13 of The Ruthless Laird's Virgin
The path leading through the forest was narrow as a chill in the air kissed their faces. Callum was surprised to feel her sidling closer to him, but he said nothing as her breasts pressed into his back and her arms closed tighter around him.
He waited until they were out of the forest before urging the horse into a trot, and then a gallop, before too long.
The wind whistled past their heads, turning their noses and cheeks red. It was not long before Callum could feel her pressing her face into his back, hiding herself from the harsh elements of the moor. The smell of marsh and heather filled his senses, making him feel more alive than he had felt in days.
“Are ye all right back there, lass?” he called back, moving his head to the side without taking his eyes off the empty moor ahead.
The horse’s hooves thundered, almost drowning out his voice.
“I have been better!” she yelled back, her voice disappearing in the whistling of the wind.
Callum smiled to himself. She was tougher than nails and more outspoken than most women he had met, but that did not make her immune to the cold sting of the wind.
They rode on for another thirty minutes until Callum decided they needed a break. Slowing the horse, he brought her to a medium trot. “Are ye still awake, lass?” he called to her.
“Of course I am,” her voice was thinner than what he had become accustomed to. Her arms tightened slightly as the horse jolted over a large stone.
“Ye need to keep yer wits about ye, lass. This isnae the promenade in Edinburgh.” He kept himself from chuckling again.
“I daenae need yer lectures, Callum Fraser!” Her voice lifted again as he let go of his waist.
He chuckled openly this time, enjoying her slight discomfort. “Callum Fraser? What happened to me Laird?”
“I just…” she began, but quickly stopped when the horse stumbled over something in the road.
Acting quickly, Callum reached back and steadied her leg, but it was too late; she had already begun to fall. One swift motion was all that it took for him to grip her arm and swing her up in the saddle in front of him, placing her squarely between his thighs as her legs hung over his knee. “I think ye will be riding here for the rest of the ride, lass.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again when he glared down at her.
“It is safer with ye here, where I can keep an eye on ye,” he grumbled, regretting his light teasing from earlier. The last thing he needed was to show up at the castle with an injured woman in his saddle. The plan would only work if Eleanor were fully in agreement and fully conscious.
“I cannae ride all the way to the castle like this,” she protested, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“Quit yer fussin’, lass; we are almost there.” He nodded ahead, beckoning her to look.
The large iron gates of the castle loomed in the distance as the horse began to part sections of the mist that was just beginning to roll in. Nightfall would be on them almost as soon as they reached the castle gates.
Eleanor shifted slightly in the saddle as she looked ahead, unknowingly leaning into him.
This woman will be the end of me.
Callum clenched his jaw as warmth spread through his loins. It was not the first time his body was reacting to her, and he knew it would not be the last. He would have to watch himself around her, especially when they were alone. There were far too many things at stake for him to be getting distracted by a lass he had met on the road.
They drew nearer to the gates, and Callum’s chest swelled with pride when he saw his beloved dog, Bran, come running toward the horse.
Loud yapping filled the air as the grey deerhound passed the horse, sniffing the trail behind them before trotting along happily beside his master.
“Is he yers?” Eleanor asked.
“Aye,” Callum shot his prized dog a smile.
“Is he friendly?” Her voice was filled with uncertainty as the dog eyed her suspiciously.
Callum nodded. “He is much like his master; he will only bite if ye ask him nicely.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes at the remark and looked ahead just as the rough iron gates were pushed open.
Guards eyed them in shock as the horse clopped over the wooden bridge. None of them seemed to have expected him to return, and Callum found himself wondering just who was on his side and who had hoped for his continued absence.
