The Hunter Read online

  He returned to where she waited under the shelter of a large tree to collect the horse. “It looks fine. I’ll take the horse over first and come back for you.”

  The air seemed to be expanding in her chest and her heart pounded frantically. She looked up at him and shook her head. “I can’t. I d-don’t like bridges. Please, can’t we go a different way?”

  He gave her an encouraging smile that broke through her moment of panic. “It looks much worse than it is. You don’t need to worry—I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She believed him enough to follow him to the bank of the river. But with what she saw next, nothing would have possessed her to go across. A big surge in the current caused the water to break over the trees. The force was so powerful, the entire structure seemed to rattle.

  He started to lead the horse (who seemed just about as eager as she was) forward, but she stopped him. “Please, you must reconsider. The current is too strong. The trees are thick with moss and slippery. It is too easy to fall in, and I don’t know how to swim. Isn’t there someplace we could stay nearby until morning? Perhaps by then the rain will stop and the water will have subsided?”

  As if to punctuate her words another surge crashed over the bridge, sending a spray of water bursting into the air.

  She turned to him with a cry. “Please,” she begged, looking up into his eyes.

  His gaze fell into hers. “You really are scared?”

  There was a strange note in his voice. A slight huskiness that penetrated through the haze of panic and sent a twinge of heated awareness racing through her.

  She nodded, her face tilted toward his only inches away.

  Inches away. Her breath caught. Only then did she realize what she had done. Her hands were clutching his arms and her body was pressed against his. Intimately. Chest to chest and hip to hip. She could feel every hard inch of his chest and legs. She could feel something else as well. Something that made her mouth go dry, her heart drop, and her stomach flip all at the same time.

  Oh, my.

  The shock of it startled her. It was as if every nerve-ending in her body had been struck by a lightning bolt of awareness. She opened her mouth to gasp, but the sound strangled in her throat when their eyes met.

  Heaven help her! Despite the rain and the cold, her body filled with heat.

  If she hadn’t felt the proof of his desire, she could see it now in his eyes. He wanted her, and the force of it seemed to be radiating under her fingertips, making her tremble with unfamiliar sensations. Her heart seemed to be racing too fast, her breath to be short and uneven, and her limbs too heavy.

  She couldn’t seem to move. She was caught up in something she didn’t understand but couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to resist.

  When his gaze dropped to her mouth, she knew what he was going to do. And she would have let him had he not found enough sense for both of them.

  His jaw locked, and the tiny muscle below his chest began to tic. He looked away.

  She let her hands drop and took a sudden step back, as if she were a bairn who’d just been caught by the cook with her hand on a tart and was trying to distance herself from the scene of her crime.

  She didn’t know what had come over her. She’d never touched a man so freely before, let alone tried to persuade one in such a manner.

  His voice sounded more curt than normal. “There is an inn not too far away in Trows that should be safe to stop at for the night.”

  Janet couldn’t hide her relief. “Thank you.”

  Trows! She realized suddenly what that meant. Not only had she avoided the bridge, she’d also managed to find a way—unconsciously, as it happened—to get to Roxburgh. Trows was only a short distance away.

  He gave her a hard look, and not for the first time, she wondered if he knew what she was thinking. “We cannot go as we are. A nun and a warrior traveling alone will draw too much comment.”

  Since he was being agreeable for once, she refrained from pointing out that she’d told him that same thing when he insisted on accompanying her. “What do you suggest?”

  “I’ll remove some of my armor, and you’ll have to take off your veil and the white scapular.”

  Her eyes widened as she realized what he intended. “You mean to pretend we are married?”

  Why did the idea frighten her more than pretending to be a nun? If she were going to parse her sins, the latter was infinitely more damning.

  “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  “Aren’t there any other places we could take shelter? A cave? An abandoned shieling? A hut?”

  “Yes, on the other side of that river.” He pointed to the bridge just as another rush of water poured over it. “It’s up to you.”

  The choice was obvious. There wasn’t any reason she should have hesitated, but she did. Why did the idea of pretending to be his wife terrify her almost as much as the bridge did? “The inn.”

  He gave her a curt nod. “I will leave you a minute to tend to your needs and remove your habit.” He pointed to the wooden cross on her neck that she’d worn since the night she tried to free her sister. “Hide that as well.”

  She was grateful for the moment of privacy. She tended to her most pressing need, and then quickly removed the veil and scapular, which wasn’t easy in the rain with everything sopping wet. She tried not to think that right now had he not insisted on accompanying her, she would be warm and dry in the abbey. When she was done, she wrapped the plaid around her again and packed the clothing in her bag. Without the protection of her habit she felt … vulnerable.

  But to what?

  She’d just finished tucking the cross under the plain black gown she still wore, when he returned and she knew exactly what.

  Oh God.

  Her stomach dropped. He’d removed the ghastly helm, and for the first time she could see his face in full.

  She was wrong. He wasn’t just handsome, he was brutally handsome. Handsome in the dark-haired, blue-eyed, rough-hewn kind of way that made every primitive female instinct in her stand up and take notice. His mouth … that jaw … those eyes.

  She sighed in a way that she never had as a young girl. What a time to start acting like one!

  His hair hung in sopping-wet clumps across his forehead, the stubble of his beard was a day or two too long, and rain was pouring down his face, yet it only seemed to add a rugged edge to his attractiveness. She felt something grip her chest and squeeze.

  The horror of realization hit her. She knew why she was acting like this and why he’d made her feel so uneasy from the start.

  Jerusalem’s Temples, I’m attracted to him!

  Instinctively, like the hare who sees the hunter for the first time, Janet felt the urge to run. She may have persuaded him to do her bidding, but part of her wondered whether crossing the bridge was any less dangerous than spending the night with him.

  Five

  It wasn’t until the innkeeper opened the door to the room that Ewen realized exactly how big of a mistake he’d made in letting her persuade him not to cross that river.

  His eyes scanned the second-floor chamber, which didn’t take long, as it wasn’t much bigger than the solitary bed that had been pushed up against the far wall. Aside from a small table and wooden stool, nothing else was in the room. There wasn’t room for anything.

  Alarm hit him like a poleaxe in the chest. There was no way in hell they could stay here. Jesus, they would be right on top of one another!

  He was just about to ask for another room—a much larger one—when the plump, matronly-looking innkeeper turned to him with a proud smile. “It’s our largest room, and I think our best. You can see right down to the courtyard from that window,” she said cheerfully, pointing to the shutter above the bed. “The roof is tight and will keep you nice and dry. Of course, we can’t have a fire in here with the thatched roof, but it is warm and cozy from the fire in the hall below, and if you give me your wet things, I’ll hang them by the fire downstair