Highland Storm by Ranae Rose Page B

his chest as he carried her, and listened to the sound of his heart beating against her cheek. She pressed a hand against her own breast and found that her heart pulsed in time with his. Perhaps their joining had done that—perhaps their hearts would always beat together now, as one. The thought brought a slight smile to her lips as he took long strides through the forest, carrying her towards its edge and the road that would lead them to Benstrath.
    The horses were waiting where they’d left them, and were still damp although the rain had finally stopped. Isla gazed up at the brooding sky. It looked as if it might rain again, but even a moment of dryness was something to be grateful for.
    Alexander lifted her onto the sorrel’s back, depositing her just behind the saddle. She waited there as he untied Briar, then the sorrel, holding the end of Briar’s reins as he climbed onto his mount’s back, settling in front of Isla. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back as he heeled their mount, urging it forward towards the road.

    * * * *

    Benstrath loomed into view after over an hour of slogging down muddy roads and riding through damp heather. Isla was both glad and incredibly anxious at the sight of the sprawling estate. She was a Forbes! And yet, here she was, riding up to Benstrath’s main house with her arms around a Gordon man and her skirts damp not only with rain but with his seed. How would the rest of the Gordons react? She worried, but didn’t regret her decision. Her prayer had been answered at the Spring of Saint Himelin—she was free from her father’s abuse, and she was loved.
    “Worrit, are ye?” Alexander asked, apparently sensing her tension.
    She nodded against his back, her cheek grazing his shoulder blade. “How could ye tell?”
    “If ye were any stronger, you’d already have cut me clean in half with your clingin’.”
    Heat crept into her cheeks as she loosened her hold around his waist. Well, loosened it a little, anyway. “Aye, I’m worrit.”
    “I willnae allow anyone to abuse ye. Ye havnae forgotten what we spoke about on the road, have ye?”
    Isla shook her head. “Of course I havnae forgotten.” Her stomach seemed suddenly full of butterflies as she remembered, and she clung tightly to Alexander once again, seeking the security of his solid warmth. It worked—the subtle shifting of his lean muscles comforted her, calming her anxious stomach.
    He reined the sorrel to a halt on the main house’s grounds. Candlelight glowed in the windows, defying the gloomy sky with their yellow warmth. Surrounding the estate house and stretching into the distance were the smaller homes of Benstrath’s crofters. Many of their windows glowed, too. It would have been a cosy sight, had she not been a Forbes.
    A boy of thirteen or so, gangly, yellow-haired and looking a bit too small for his tartan, emerged from around the corner of the house. The smile that broke across his face when he saw Alexander quickly turned to a look of curiosity as he spotted Isla. He gaped openly as he approached them at a rangy, loping gate.
    “John!” Alexander cried as he swung down from the sorrel. “Take these horses to the stable for me, lad.”
    The boy stared as Alexander lifted Isla from the saddle and cradled her against his chest.
    “Hurry!” Alexander said. “I’ve an injured lass and no time to waste standin’ here while ye gawk.”
    The boy snatched both the horses’ reins and hurried to pull them away, casting frequent glances over his shoulder as he tugged them towards the stable. Isla was left in Alexander’s arms, facing the house, with its imposing grey stone front and contrastingly cheery windows. For the first time, she was glad she was lame—she doubted she would have been able to stand even if her foot hadn’t been broken. Her stomach lurched alarmingly as Alexander started forward, bringing them closer with every step to the confrontation she