Page 70 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

She combed fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. “Only yours.”

He pulled back and stared at her shadowed features. “Did he harm you?” Taran gently stroked her jaw.

Caroline covered his hand with hers. “No.” Tears slipped from her eyes. “But my father…” She buried her face in his chest.

Taran’s heart pounded. He held her close as more tears fell. “I will deal with him. Trust me.”

On owl screeched. Caroline flinched. Taran lifted his head to assure her all was well, but the trees rustled, and her head jerked towards the dense scrub to their left. He squinted at where slivers of moonlight shimmered as if alive.

“Someone is there.” She scrambled to a sitting position.

Taran grabbed the pistol and shoved to his feet as a large figure emerged from the trees.

Taran pulled back on the hammer. The soft click broke the quiet like a thunderbolt.

The man halted. “I’d feel more welcome if you would lower your weapon.”

Taran pointed the pistol skyward and released the hammer. “Damn it, Edmonds, you nearly got yourself shot.”

“So I did,” the earl replied in a dry tone.

Taran grasped Caroline’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “You picked a fine time to make an appearance,” he said.

“My apologies,” Edmonds replied. “But I assumed you would want to know we caught him.”

Caroline’s fingers tightened around his.

Taran pulled her against his side and whispered into her ear, “Trust me to keep my promise.” No one—least of all Etherton—would hurt her again.

* * * *

Caroline was thankful for the comfort of Taran’s arm around her waist as he guided her through the trees, but she wished Lord Edmonds was anywhere but with them. Their last encounter confirmed that he knew her secret. Taran led her around a fallen branch. She needed to confess the truth about Aphrodite, but Lord Edmonds’ presence made that impossible. Would Taran see her silence as yet another deceit? A kaleidoscope of butterflies flitted in her stomach. He hadn’t fucked her in the forest. He’d made love to her, claimed the last of her heart. How much better was reality than the fantasy she had so desperately wanted…created? Truth and fiction were blurring within her mind. Before another opportunity passed, Taran had to know the truth. Tonight, Aphrodite died.

“We tied the bastard’s arms and legs, and threw him over his own horse.” Lord Edmonds laugh broke into her thoughts. “Young Huntly will deposit him in the dungeon at Strathmore for safekeeping.”

Taran’s fingers flexed around her waist. His fury was evident. Caroline repressed a shiver and was glad when they broke from the murk of the trees. The horses stood tethered to a nearby branch. Caroline moved to break from Taran’s hold, but gave a small cry when he swept her off her feet. He rounded her horse to his chestnut and hoisted her onto the saddle.

She grabbed for the pommel. “My lord! I am capable of riding my own horse.”

He swung up behind her. His arm snaked around her waist as he urged the beast into motion. “After tonight’s events, I intend to keep you close.” He pulled her flush against him. “Very close.”

Caroline glanced to the left at Lord Edmonds. The sight of his slightly upturned mouth caused her cheeks to warm. Taking off for England in the dead of night was the single most stupid thing she’d ever done. No. Going to the masque had been even more stupid. No. Lying to Taran took the prize. As if he’d read her mind, his arm tightened as though it was possible to pull her inside his skin.

“My lord,” she gave his hand a slap. “You are holding me too tightly. I cannot breathe.”

Taran pressed his mouth against her ear. Warm breath against her ear sent a shiver through her.

“I wish to do more than hold you,” he said.

She forced back pain. “You will think differently when we arrive home.”

Taran shifted the reins from his right to left hand, and she startled at the unexpected weight of the free hand on her leg. He began inching up her skirt. Caroline froze. What was he doing? She clamped a hand over his, but his stronger fingers continued to draw the fabric upward. She darted a glance at Lord Edmonds, but he seemed oblivious to Taran’s shenanigans. He wouldn’t be once her skirt was above her waist!

“What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath.

He didn’t answer and she gave the top of his hand a hard pinch. The skirt continued its slow upward slide. When the hem reached thigh height on her right leg, he slid his hand beneath the skirt and let it fall over his arm. Caroline bit back a gasp at feel of his fingers sliding down her inner thigh. When he brushed the edge of her mound, she squeaked.

“Sir.” She started to grab his arm, then realized that would draw attention to his hand between her legs. A finger brushed her curls, then dipped between her folds. “This is improper,” she said through gritted teeth.