Page 34 of Bound to a Warrior
She belonged to no one and that was that.
“I am pleased you thought my kiss memorable,” he said. “I will strive to make all kisses that follow even more memorable.”
“There’ll be no more kisses,” she said candidly, “except of course for the one I promised you once we are freed.”
“Afraid to kiss me again?” he challenged.
Truth be told she was, but that was not a truth she intended to share with him.
“We have no time for kisses. We must concentrate on staying alive.”
His smile faded and he stepped forward, taking her hand. “You’re right about that. We do need to focus more clearly on our situation, but”—he paused and his smile returned—“there’s always time for kisses.”
To prove it, he gave a quick kiss to her lips.
She silently cursed her body for instantly responding to his playful kiss. And she grew annoyed with him, for he kissed her for one reason and one reason only, to prove that he could. He had no intention of paying heed to her declaration that there would be no kissing. He was letting her know he would kiss her whenever he pleased.
The worst part was that she had no doubt she would eagerly respond.
Don’t let him control.
All well and good for her mother’s warning, but how did she stop him when she so enjoyed his kisses?
Duncan made sure to keep a keen ear and eye on his surroundings as they continued on their journey. Neither was talkative and he had expected that, the kiss having had a profound effect on them both.
The idea that his lips had been the only ones to have kissed Mercy left him feeling extremely possessive of her. It was as if he had branded her his and branding was for marriages, not kisses. So why did he feel like this? It irritated him, and yet he couldn’t shake the thought. Not to mention that rage overwhelmed him, if he even gave brief thought to another man kissing her.
No one had that right, but him. He, and only he, could kiss Mercy. And kiss her he wanted to. Their kiss came as natural as the dawning of the day and continued to rise with as much fervor and heat as the sun did. And like the sun that joined completely with the sky did it finally settle and slowly descend, and that was how he felt with Mercy.
How then could he stop himself from kissing her again, or could she stop from responding? He was no fool. He knew that she wanted to kiss him again as much as he did her, and they would. They’d both be foolish to think it wouldn’t happen again, but if Mercy felt better dictating otherwise, he’d let her.
She’d come to her senses sooner or later. Future kisses would see to that and then? He grinned with thoughts of the future.
By the time they found a stream they were both so parched that they fell to their knees and hungrily drank.
Mercy stopped drinking before Duncan and was startled by her reflection in the water. Her face was smudged with dirt, her long black hair wasn’t only an unsightly mess, but its brilliant luster was gone, and exhaustion stamped its heavy mark around her eyes. Her mother would be mortified by her disheveled appearance and frankly, so was she.
That she had a reasonable excuse for looking so unkempt was no excuse at all to her. And she felt a sudden need to tidy herself up as best she could. She leaned over the water’s edge and with a scoop of her hand splashed a generous amount in her face. She didn’t care that it trickled down her neck and over her blouse, she simply wanted to rid herself of the grime.
She scrubbed her face and neck with her hand and gently patted around her eyes. She wished she could have taken her clothes off and dunked herself in the refreshing water. And while she didn’t doubt that Duncan would eagerly agree and join her, it wasn’t a wise idea.
“You’re beautiful.”
Startled by Duncan’s firm declaration, Mercy turned to face him. And the truth and caring in his dark eyes had her saying, “You truly mean that, don’t you?”
His laugh was gentle, just a slight ripple though it came deep from his chest, and for some reason it sent a tingle through her.
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. You are a beautiful woman.” He smiled and ran a finger down her wet cheek. “Grime and all.”
Mercy sat back on her haunches with a slump. “I am rumpled.”
He laughed. And when she sent him a scowl, his laughter instantly ceased.
His hand slowly reached out and cupped her chin. “You look like a woman who has been at play with her wee bairns, or busy in the field working alongside her husband, or tending the cook fire so that her family can eat a hardy meal. Or running to survive so that someday she can have bairns and a loving husband, and that, my wee lassie, is true beauty.”
“Thank you, you are generous,” she said. Her mother may have filled her head with becoming a kept woman, but it was always Mercy’s dream to find a man who would love her as much as she loved him and that they could share a life together. Duncan’s words had reminded her of that dream, and she wished with all her might that miraculously her dream would come true.
“I am truthful and that makes the difference.”
