Rising Fire by Terri Brisbin Page B

“My mother said you left hastily when she spoke to you.”
    â€œI am well. I will apologize for my rudeness,” she said.
    He took a step closer and towered over her. Taller but thinner and not as muscular as the warrior who’d stood with her, James did not upset her feelings or cause the heat to blossom within her.
    â€œShe did not speak of rudeness, she but worried over you.” He lifted his hand and lightly placed it on her arm. “As I do, Brienne.”
    A fortnight ago, even earlier this day, she would have welcomed his touch and his company. Now, though,everything in her world had tilted and changed. She had changed. Now . . .
    â€œI spoke to your father, Brienne. He said I may court you.” The hope she heard in his voice, full of promise and a shared future, made her stomach tighten. “If you consent, we could be married in the spring.”
    James tilted his head down and touched his mouth to hers. It was a warm and gentle kiss. He canted his head, and his lips pressed against hers until she opened to him. A slow, tentative slide of his tongue into her mouth startled her. He drew back in response.
    â€œSo, will you, Brienne? Will you take me as your husband?”
    As his brown eyes searched hers for an answer, she considered that only a fortnight ago, he would have been the perfect husband for her—the son of the miller marrying the daughter of the blacksmith. They would live in the village with their families, as generations had before them.
    A perfect match.
    Except that she was not the blacksmith’s daughter. She was the get of one of the most powerful and terrifying lords in Scotland, who’d recently taken notice of her. She held some power within her that allowed—nay, pressed—her to control fire. The burning place on her arm flared then, reminding her of the unknown and that this possible future as the wife of James, Dougal’s son, was simply not possible. As she tried to choose the right words that would kindly dash his hopes, he shook his head.
    â€œI am not pressing for your answer now. I know you would speak to your mother and father now that theoffer is made to you. Take some time to consider how good a marriage we would make.” James took a full pace back and smiled at her.
    All she could do was return it in silence.
    â€œI must return to my father now that I know you are safe,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss. “I will seek you out later.”
    With those brief words of farewell, he was gone, striding back along the path toward his family’s cottage.
    Brienne stood in the dappled shadows, watching the wind move the branches above and around her. So much had happened this morning, and she was no closer to answers than she had been when she’d opened her eyes on this new day. All she had now were more questions and more doubts . . . and a marriage proposal. She shook her head at that, for her answer to James was the only thing of which she was certain.
    Glancing around the clearing, she shook off the confusion and decided she must return to her errands. Mayhap by doing those tasks and daily chores that were part of her everyday life, she would begin to find her path in all the uncertainty. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she put one foot in front of the other and forced herself back to the path.
    The skin on her arm, two flames dancing and burning without destroying, reminded her that, regardless of her wishes on the matter, nothing would ever be the same again.

Chapter 5
    H e stood in the shadows, planning the death that would visit the man who’d touched her. Who’d kissed her. Who’d whispered to her. His sword drawn and ready, William blew hard against the urge to walk into the clearing and kill the one who dared so much.
    She was his.
    His to touch.
    His to kiss.
    His . . . to claim.
    His vision narrowed, and red ringed the edges of it. His body strengthened and