Page 31 of Katie's Highlander (Highland Protector 3)
Katie glared at him for a long moment. Her cheeks grew rosier and Ramsay could tell by the rise and fall of her chest that both her breathing and heartrate were speeding up. Katie was about to explode with the need to speak her mind and that wouldna be good at all.
Finally, she pulled in a deep breath, wrenched the sheet tighter across her chest and anchored it in her armpits. She lifted the handle-free mug of steaming liquid in front of her, took a hesitant sip, then quickly returned it to the tray. She looked over at Ramsay and forced a strained smile. “I feel much better, husband, thank you.”
Ramsay turned to Mrs. Macklemurry and Flora. Both women were standing at the foot of the bed like faithful—albeit extremely nosy—guardian angels. The women had been helpful but now they needed to go so that he and Katie could have an uncomfortable but an extremely necessary conversation.
“Leave us.”
Flora flitted forward with a curt shake of her head. “But the rest of the lady’s bath and dressing—”
“Himself said t’leave—we leave.” Mrs. Macklemurry cut Flora off by stepping between the girl and Ramsay, and firmly pushed the maid toward the door. “Forgive her, m’chieftain.” She gave Ramsay a quick curtsy, then turned and glared at Flora. “She’s newly trained and forgets herself.” The older woman motioned toward the door. “I’ll have a wee chat with her and if ye have need of anythin’ at all, she’ll be awaitin’ yer call in the maid chamber just outside yer rooms.” She gave Ramsay a respectful nod, took hold of Flora’s arm, ushered the girl out, and firmly closed the door behind them.
Katie inhaled as though she was getting ready to expel a long tirade, but Ramsay stopped her by pressing a finger across her lips.
“Not yet,” he mouthed with a shake of his head. He waited a long moment until the barest click in the outer chambers told him that they were finally alone. He removed his finger from Katie’s mouth and braced himself. “Now.”
Her gaze dropped to her steaming tea and the small plate of bread and cheese beside it. Her jaw flexing, Katie closed her eyes as though saying her dinner prayers. After a long moment, she opened her eyes, and continued staring at her food. “I don’t know where to start,” she finally said in a dazed tone as though the bread had just asked her a question. “I don’t know where to fucking start.”
“Everything overcame ye and ye fell away in a dead faint.” Perhaps, if he reminded her of a few things, she’d find it easier to gather her bearings. Ramsay didna know which was worse: Katie rantin’ or Katie talkin’ to her food. “Lack of food. The trauma of jumpin’ time…”
“The nauseating smell of pig shit and gutted hog,” Katie supplied before taking another long sip of the steaming liquid in the cup. She shook her head and shrugged as her gaze lifted and settled on the opposite wall. The muscles in her cheek twitched with the angry disenchanted set of her jaw. “Mustn’t forget the enticing aroma of that little welcome to the Scottish Highlands, must we?” Her unblinking focus still fixed straight ahead on absolutely nothing, she picked up a hunk of brown bread and bit into it like a wolf ripping into its prey.
Ramsay eased off the bed and moved around to stand at the foot of the huge four-poster bed that had obviously been fashioned for a chieftain’s rooms. Might be best t’take up a safer post afore he shared all that he had to tell her. “At least we’re here now. Safe,” he reasoned. “I promise ye, this place is a far sight better than some. The MacTavishes are strong allies…friends.”
Katie’s expression slowly shifted along with her attention. Her eyes narrowed even more as she trained them on Ramsay. “Your tone.You said that almost as though you feel we’ve been moved here permanently.” Before he could respond, she continued, “Mrs. Macklemurry called you ‘chieftain.’ ” She pointed her chunk of bread at him as though about to take aim and fire. “Why did she call you ‘chieftain’ instead ofdìon,‘protector’ like the other MacTavishes did back in the woods?” Balancing the tray resting on her legs, she wiggled to sit up straighter in the overstuffed mounds of the bed.
“What happened while I was out of it?” Her face flushed a hotter shade of red as she yanked the sheet higher up over her bosom. “What happened other than me getting stripped half-naked by you and a couple of total strangers?” She gave him a stinging look. “I could’ve handled cleanup myself, you know, once I came back around—or did that little thought never occur to you?”
Bracing both hands on the heavy wood footboard of the bed, Ramsay gave up on choosing his words carefully. The woman was already pissed and was damn certain about t’be pissed even more. There was no helpin’ it. Might as well face the lovely wee banshee like a man.
“Mrs. Macklemurry addressed me as chieftain, because that is who the MacTavishes consider me t’be—their high chief over all the druid clans of the Highlands, sent t’them by the goddesses t’see to the rebuilding of our people after the attacks of the Norsemen.” He held out a hand toward Katie as though presenting her at court. “And you, my dearest one, are their lady—their high chief’s wife.” He stood straighter, thankful he still wore his armor. “And I had no idea how long ye’d beout of itas ye put it, but I felt ye’d feel a damn sight better when ye awakened, if ye’d been liberated of the ten pounds of dried muck encrusting yer body.”
Katie set aside the tray, her movements slow and deliberate. She ripped back the bedcovers that weren’t wrapped around her torso and stood, taking care to pull one of the sheets with her and keep it around her body. She marched across the room, dragging her train of bedsheets behind her like a queen about to take her throne. She made her way to the single window centered in the far wall across from the bed.
One hand fisted on the stone ledge, the other fisted in the sheet she held to her chest, Katie turned and glared at him. “If you’re telling me that we’re going to be here—stuck in the tenth century—for the length of time it could take to reorganize who the hell knows how many clans…” she paused, her emotions making her quake. “…ifthat’swhat you’re telling me—then I’m going to…I’m gonna…I’m going to kill you.” She threw a hand up in the air, a wild-eyed look of victory lighting her face as though she’d just single-handedly come up with the answer to a very difficult problem.
“That’s it,” she repeated with an affirmative bob of her head, jabbing an accusing finger at him. “I’m going to kill you. Think that’ll boomerang me back to the future?” Sarcasm dripped from her words—thick and dark like old honey. “If I piss off your goddesses enough, they should snatch my happy ass right out of this century and slam dunk me right back where I belong—don’t you think?”
It was at that exact moment that Ramsay knew he loved Katie.
She was a braw canty woman—fiery and fierce spirited. She’d set his soul ablaze and laugh while the flames of her words consumed him. He gladly welcomed a union with just such a woman—and nothing sounded better than spending the rest of his life with her, meeting her in battle, and setting her world on fire in return.
He ripped his dagger out of its sheath and held it out, all the while moving toward Katie as he yanked free the ties at the sides of the leather armor lashed across his chest. He tossed the protective breastplate aside and bare chested, squared off in front of her. “Here, lass. Use my blade.”
Katie’s eyes flared wider for the briefest moment but in their lightning-blue depths, Ramsay saw a building storm, a passionate storm he wanted to feel howling all around him. He shoved the knife toward her again, daring her to take hold of the hilt and bury the blade in his chest. “Take it. Do as ye wish.”
Jaw tensed and body trembling, Katie took the knife, flipped it to hold the tip of the blade between her fingers, then whizzed it past his shoulder, throwing it hard enough to bury the knife half the blade’s length in the wide panel of wood surrounding the door. Then she glared at Ramsay, paused a mere blink of an eye, then drew back her fist and punched the curve of his jaw. Hard.
“I hate you,” she hissed in a quivering whisper. “I fucking hate you.”
Working his jaw to erase the sting of the hit, Ramsay took hold of her wrist and pulled her into his arms. Burying his fingers into the tangled silk of her hair, he tilted her head back then held her there, forcing her to look him in the eye. “And I hate you for all that ye’ve made me feel.”
Then he kissed her. Hard. Properly melding their binding oath the way he should’ve done in the first place. He claimed her for his own, savoring the taste of her, the taste he’d craved since setting eyes on that sweet mouth. Victory surged through him like the fire of a good whisky when Katie gradually opened to him and slid her hands up his chest then around his neck to hold him tighter. Finally, he broke the bond, lifting his head the barest amount and allowing his lips t’brush back and forth across hers as he spoke. “We’re even in our hatred, aye?”
Then he gently pushed her away, toward the window ledge. Reddened lips parted and mouth-watering chest heaving, Katie stared back at him, not bothering to grab up the bedsheet that had puddled to the floor around her.
Ramsay strode to the door, yanked it open, then stopped in his tracks, staring into the next room but only seeing the vision he’d just left behind.Time for things t’change.
“I’ll send Flora t’help ye dress,” he said without looking back. “I’ll be waitin’ in the great hall for ye. Dinna tarry.” Then he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a forceful bang.
