To Catch a Highlander: A Highland Erotic Romance by Krystal LaCroix Page B

“Quite frankly, you’re going to need it in the coming months.”
    “Months?!” I forced a smile. “You think it shall take me that long to escape from Gordan?”
    “No,” he admitted. “But you shall need at least that long to find somewhere to hide and create a new life for yourself. I have no doubt at all that you can do it, B rianna, but it will not happen quickly.”
    For the first time since he had arrived that afternoon, I felt my true feelings for him return. “That’s lovely, Ewan. I mean, not that I should have to go through the ordeal I know is before me, but that you underst and I shall do what I need to do, and that I will not be a slave to Gordan the rest of my days.”
    “I do understand, and I admire you all the more for it,” he said.
    “You admire me so much you’re going to deliver me into the nightmare, then,” I said, “even as you know I shan’t stand for it for long in any event.”
    “I have no choice in the matter, Brianna, I have told you that again and again.” He approached me gingerly and I let him hold me. “If there were any other option at my disposal…”
    “So you tell me again and again,” I said bitterly. “You know, of course, if I must run off and hide somewhere, there is no chance of our ever being together!”
    “If it is meant to be, I shall find you.”
    “I cannot deny you are most adept at finding me,” I admitted.
    Ewan laughed . “That’s my girl. Now then, supper time.” He took me by the hand, and I saw no point in resisting.
    The eating house was even louder and more crowded than the one from the night before, no surprise given that we were in the city now. Ewan was well into hi s second pint of ale, and I nearly finished with my first, before we had a modicum of privacy at our table. “Thought they’d never leave,” he said with a drunken flair of relief as he watched a pair of burly men finally standing up from the other end of the table. “It’s past time we had some space to ourselves.”
    “What difference does privacy make when you won’t touch me?” I demanded.
    “Not that again!” he said, waving for another round for us both. “My dear, you shall never know how very badly I want to fulfil that request of yours. But I have told you, it can never be.”
    “Of course not,” I said. “You are far too afraid of Gordan.”
    “Brianna!”
    “Oh, stop! It’s true and you know it. Lord Ewan Galbraith has nothing to fear from a contemptible pig like Gordan, at least not if half what you have insinuated about the man is true, yet you live in fear of…of I don’t even know what!”
    “It is not so simple as all that,” he said, pausing to greet the barmaid as she set two full mugs before us. “Would that it were.”
    “What di fference would it make, then, if you still had every intention of delivering me into the devil’s jaws and wouldn’t even give me one night of joy to remember?”
    Ewan looked up at me from his drink, which he set gently back on the table, and nodded ever so sl ightly.
    “What is it, Ewan?”
    “You are correct,” he said.
    “Of course I am. Nothing makes you bend to Gordan but your own silly fears.”
    “Not about that. I mean, perhaps you are right about me as well. But I meant you are right about what you have been sayin g all through this wretched journey. If I am going to inflict Gordan upon you, then you do indeed have a right to know the story of all that happened before you were born.”
    I smiled in spite of myself. “Well, thank you!”
    “Do not thank me until you have heard me out,” he warned. “You may well hate me once you know the truth.”
    “I cannot imagine that,” I protested.
    “Wait and see,” he said. “And finish your ale.”
    Back in our room in a pleasantly drunken fog, we got a fire started and some water collected for a bath. While we waited for the water to warm up, Ewan undressed me slowly, reverently, as if unwrapping a delicate treasure. I could certainly