Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee (13 page)

In any case, it didn’t matter.

It was his problem to overcome, she decided, because she had already dealt with it. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d found a way to like herself despite her body’s weaknesses… and mayhap even because of them.

Colin Mac Brodie had his own demons to overcome, Seana realized. But Colin wasn’t her problem just now.

Winning herself a husband was, and finding her da a better place to lay his head.

“Are ye certain ye dinna wish to ride, lass?”

Seana cast him a glance. She smiled to ease the frown lines from his brow, and teased him, “Are ye so weary already, Colin Mac Brodie?”

He returned her smile, though his worry lines didn’t quite disappear. “Mayhap I am,” he answered, but Seana somehow knew it was for her benefit alone.

“Aye,” she agreed, goading him, “You dinna look so good, ’tis true.” She gave him her own look of concern, and tried not to smile when he took offense.

“What do ye mean I dinna look so good!”

“Ye just do not,” Seana replied, in her most innocent tone.

His brows drew together.

“Ye look a wee bit puny, in truth.” She continued to tease him, though it wasn’t entirely untrue. She doubted he was accustomed to hearing such things from the women he was acquainted with.

“Puny!” he exclaimed, and seemed incensed that she would think him so.

“Well, ye dinna wish me to lie, now do you?” she reasoned, pursing her lips to keep from laughing at his answering expression; a mixture of surprise and bewilderment, and perhaps distress that she did not think him perfect.

Och, but he was perfect… that face… that mouth… that body…

Seana tried not to dwell on it.

He was trying to decide whether she was speaking the truth, and Seana resolved to let him think she meant it. It would do him good, she thought, to be a wee less certain of himself now and again. Everyone suffered uncertainty at some point… save for Colin Mac Brodie. Och, but it wasn’t natural to be so self-assured. Seana decided a little humility would suit him better.

“Well, you dinna look so bloody good yourself,” he countered.

Seana was certain she didn’t, and that he thought so was no great surprise. “Nay?” she asked, her tone completely lacking in concern.

“Nay!”

“Oh, well,” Seana lamented, and picked up her pace. She was not going to confess that she had good reason, at least, because her leg was, indeed, bothering her.

“I think we should ride,” he persisted.

“No thank you,” Seana countered stubbornly.

“Och, but ye said yourself, lass. I dinna look so well! Have pity on me, and ride this mare with me!”

Seana gave him her most pleasant smile. “Ye can ride, if you wish. I do not mind.” She could tell he was growing frustrated, but she didn’t need his concern. “I have never ridden a horse in my life,” she confessed, trying to turn his attention from her leg, “and I do not need to begin now.”

He seemed surprised by that. “Never?”

“Nay. Not everyone is born to such luxuries, Colin Mac Brodie!”

“She willna harm ye, lass.”

Seana continued to walk, her expression cheerful, ignoring his appeals. “I know.”

“Stubborn woman!”

Seana gave him a nod of agreement. “My da says so, as well. But if I were not so stubborn, I think, I wouldn’t even be able to walk today. Stubborn is not such a bad thing to be, Colin Mac Brodie!”

She’d given him an opening, she knew, but she wanted it spoken between them at last. Her bad leg was not a thing to be pitied or feared or held in contempt. It was not something to be hushed about either. It was simply a fact of her life, an obstacle to be overcome—and she surely had done that!

Still, he didn’t seem able to ask. He opened his mouth to speak, she saw, then closed it again, and returned to keeping his own thoughts. His brows remained drawn together, and he stared at the ground where he walked, brooding.

Was he so concerned about her comfort?

Or was he simply uneasy in her presence now that her limp had become discernible?

Neither thought pleased her, but the second disturbed her far more than the first. It brought back too many painful memories.

“It does not pain me at all,” she lied, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “Do not fret over me, Colin.”

Colin knew it was a lie.

He could tell by the way she winced a bit with every step she took. She wasn’t even aware of the telltale gesture, he thought, but it was there, nevertheless. He’d been trying to figure out a way to get her on his horse, but short of lifting her up and throwing her over his mount, he didn’t see a way of getting her to comply.

With every step she took, his conscience pricked him more.

All those years ago, he had never considered her at all—neither her physical nor emotional pain—and this moment he didn’t like himself for his lack of compassion. He was a selfish man, who only thought about himself. How could he not have considered her then?

All morning he’d been trying to remember an instance… a single time he had given his sweat for someone else without the first concern for what he would receive in return. He couldn’t think of one. It disturbed him. He knew his brother hadn’t meant to plague him this morn, but he’d been the second person in the span of these few days to imply that Colin was self-centered and self-serving. All his life he had been at the center of someone’s attention, but he had never asked for it. It was not like he begged for attention or favor. He had simply received it. It had not really occurred to him that he hadn’t returned it, because he simply assumed everyone else wore his shoes. But it was never more apparent to him, than at the moment, how unfair life could be to some, while favoring others so generously.

Seana had been given a cross to bear, and she had borne it with dignity. She bore it still with the same pride he had seen in her eyes all those years ago.

He admired her.

He wanted to help her.

But he felt helpless because she wouldn’t let him, which led him to realize how difficult it must have been for her to come to him and beg his help to win Broc. He felt rotten now for refusing her so meanly, particularly so because he had done so only because of his own wounded pride. There was truly naught wrong with what she was doing. She claimed she loved Broc, and what was wrong with trying to gain his attention?

Naught at all.

Broc would be very fortunate to have a woman such as Seana.

Colin was beginning to see just how fortunate.

Though it bothered him that she wanted his best friend, he intended to do what he could to help her. And if he couldn’t help her directly, he knew Meghan would.

He wasn’t quite charitable enough to hand someone else something he wanted for himself.

Right or wrong, it was the way he was. He couldn’t help it—didn’t want to help it where she was concerned.

Damn it, he wanted her for himself.

He just didn’t want a bloody wife.

Stubborn wench.

How the devil was he going to get her on his horse?

Out of sheer desperation, Colin pretended to trip. He stumbled, gave a little yelp, and went down, rolling free of his horse. He damned well didn’t want to spook the beast and kill himself simply to save her a walk, but it was just about the only thing he could think to do.

She rushed over to him, her look one of such concern that Colin had to force himself not to smile.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed. “Are you all right?” She scooped her hands beneath his head gently to cradle it.

Those lips were suddenly so close to his… so close, and he grimaced, though not in pain. He had to fight his instinct to pull her down and kiss her, slide his tongue between those soft, full lips.

His body stirred at the scent of her skin.

“What the devil was that?” he asked, dazed, though not by his fall. Damned if he had to pretend confusion. Her scent alone skewed his brain. Shaking his head to clear it, he peered back down the path from whence they’d come.

She peered back over her shoulder, as well, studying the ground for some offending rock or limb that might have tripped him.

His horse stood patiently by, watching them.

At the instant, Colin didn’t give a damn if they ever moved from where they sat.

The sweet curve of her breast was a lovelier view than any he had seen in a long time. A man would give his life to protect those breasts, and gladly.

He swallowed, and mentally slapped his own hands from reaching out and taking those gentle swells into his hungry hands…

Her gaze returned to him after a moment, and her expression had become dubious.

Canny wench.

“What is it?”

“Naught,” she answered. “I see naught.” And her brows narrowed. “What happened?”

“What happened?”

Colin blinked, giving her a genuinely bemused look. He had hurled himself across the ground, without the first thought of a story to tell. How the hell was he supposed to know what had happened?

“I tripped,” he lied.

Those luscious lips curved into a shrewd smile. “I see.”

Colin pretended to grimace in pain. “I do not think I can walk now.”

She dropped his head upon the hard ground, without mercy. “Och, now, you poor thing!” she exclaimed, and gave him a look that told him she knew precisely what it was he was trying to do.

And she didn’t seem to like it.

Colin grimaced this time for real. He already had himself a king-sized headache from her blasted spirits, and now it was compounded by the smack against the ground.

“I’m supposin’ you’ll have to ride now,” she told him much too sweetly. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable,” she assured him, and batted her lashes at him.

Shrewd wench, but if it worked, he didn’t care if she knew his game.

He grinned, very pleased his plan had worked.

“You can ride, Mac Brodie, but I shall walk!”

And she smiled back at him, the most brilliant, knowing smile Colin had ever seen.

Gadamn wench! he thought, and frowned.

She and Meghan would get along just fine.

“Just one more thing,” Colin said and seized her arm when she tried to rise.

She peered down her nose at him, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Aye?”

“Aye.” He jerked her down to where he lay, pulling her atop him.

Her hands pinned him beneath her as she braced her fall. He might lose her to Broc, but not before he tasted those sweet lips.

“Ayeeeee, what are you—”

Colin silenced her with his kiss, giving her no time to resist. He slid his tongue between her lips to steal the delightful nectar of her mouth. It was more heady than he’d hoped… sweet unlike any two lips he’d ever kissed in all his life…

She didn’t kiss him back, but neither did she push him away, and he had to fight the urge to slide his hands down to test the luscious curve of her bottom.

“Forgive me, lass,” he whispered into her mouth. “I had to do it..

Seana blinked in surprise.

So stunned was she by his kiss that she forgot to protest.

Her hands had gone about his neck of their own accord. It wasn’t until she needed a breath that she realized she’d offered him no resistance at all, and her cheeks warmed. She jerked her head backward in alarm.

Och, and she was lying atop him!

And more… she was out of breath entirely… and far too aware of every hard line of his body beneath her.

One leg of his snuck about her own, entwined about her calf, holding her. His body moved against her provocatively, and Seana grew dizzy at the sensations he aroused in her. She froze.

He grinned up at her, his smile far too engaging to allow her anger at his brazenness to remain.

With no small measure of self-disgust she realized that some part of her wanted to grin back down at him—the rogue! How could he make her want to forget her own resolve?

She lifted a brow.

Two could play at this game. She was no silly little lass whose brain would melt merely at his glance. He couldn’t bear it that she didn’t want him, could he? She could see it in his eyes. His pride was injured that she should dare want his friend instead of him. Well, if he hoped to give her something to think about… so, too, could she…

Seana smiled just a little and rested in his arms, letting him hold her. From the tips of her toes to her lips… she slowly pressed her body against him, watching his eyes turn from the glitter of amusement to a glimmer of surprise. When she pressed her lips against his once more, the groan of pleasure that escaped their joined mouths was his own.

“Och, lass!” he exclaimed softly, his arms going about her waist.

“How’s that?” she asked him a bit coyly.

It took him a full moment to respond. “Well,” he said, after a befuddled moment, “I do not think you need anyone to teach you how to kiss.” He sighed then as he looked up at her, his eyes twinkling a bit, and Seana thought for an instant that she had managed to addle him just a wee bit. He had the presence of mind to wink at her, however, and she knew he was playing with her. “Keep that up,” he told her, his expression a bit regretful if she didn’t know better, “and Broc will have nary a chance.”

Seana laughed softly, feeling quite pleased with herself over his reaction, despite his cavalier attitude.

Mayhap, just mayhap her teacher had yet a few things to learn? And somehow, the very notion pleased her.