rode headlong through the woods, gaining speed as they went. But words would not free the beautiful Healer now. She was his.
Chapter Four
Aileana was quickly reminded that it was of no use to struggle against the strength of the Lathan laird. Despite his warnings to the contrary, she was in little danger of being dropped. He held her securely against his hard torso, one strong arm an iron band under her breasts. That he controlled his spirited mount with only one hand and the power of his thighs proved testament to his strength and skill, for they rode hard and fast.
Despite the security of his grip, Aileana huddled deeper into Toran’s embrace and held on to his arm for dear, sweet life. As they flew faster and faster, she could not even summon her Voice to order him to stop, or to slow to a pace that would seem less fraught with chances for mishap. But being thrown from the horse, or dashed into trees or rocks, was one thing. She feared even more that Toran was right. If they were caught, Colbridge’s men would kill the lot of them. Even she could not count on being spared, since she now appeared to be a runaway. If Colbridge decided against her, he wouldn’t care if she had been carried off against her will. He wouldn’t believe her. And what he and his men might do to her before they killed her was not to be imagined.
Toran’s grip on her never loosened as they bolted between the trees. They ducked overhanging branches. They bounded down the sides of gullies and flew over ridges until it seemed that they would race into the setting sun itself. Aileana clung to the strong arm wrapped around her. She alternated between squeezing her eyes closed and opening them because not seeing where they went frightened her even more than the sight of branches whipping by. One moment she was holding her breath and the next gasping with fear at an uneven jolt or when Toran’s weight shifted as he folded over her and ducked oncoming obstacles.
Kyle followed them at a distance. Aileana might have thought him gone except for the pounding of his horse’s hooves behind them. He pulled even once or twice and exchanged a nod with Toran, then dropped back again. She supposed he served as rear guard and kept watch for pursuit.
Finally, Toran slowed his mount to a walk, cooling it down. He eased his vise-like grip, allowing Aileana her first deep breath in an hour. Pine sap and leaf mold odors filled her nose, sharp above the musk of hard-ridden horse and the heady scent that was uniquely Toran’s own. She heard nothing but the sigh of the wind, birds chirping in the trees, and the steady beat of Toran’s heart against her ear. Leather creaked as he shifted in the saddle to look behind them. Before long, Kyle rode up and stayed along side them for a few paces until he got his breath. “All clear,” he reported.
“Good. Ride back to Donal; make sure they’re away safely,” Toran ordered.
Kyle raised a hand in salute, turned his mount and headed back the way they had come.
While the men talked, Aileana had tried and failed to unclench her cramping hands from Toran’s arm. Seeming to sense her difficulty, he stopped their horse completely, draped the reins over its neck, and wrapped his other arm around her. Gently, he pried her fingers free.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, half turning in his arms to see him. The frown on his face did nothing to ease her fears.
Then Aileana looked down and saw blood where her nails had pierced his skin. Embarrassment washed through her. How could she have clung so desperately to him without even knowing it?
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, keeping her gaze cast down to the small wounds she’d caused.
Instead of admonishing her, Toran took one of her hands in his two large ones and carefully began to rub and knead her cramping fingers. Pain she had not been aware of finally penetrated, and as quickly, began to dissolve away under his care. Aileana realized that it was not unlike
Chapter Four
Aileana was quickly reminded that it was of no use to struggle against the strength of the Lathan laird. Despite his warnings to the contrary, she was in little danger of being dropped. He held her securely against his hard torso, one strong arm an iron band under her breasts. That he controlled his spirited mount with only one hand and the power of his thighs proved testament to his strength and skill, for they rode hard and fast.
Despite the security of his grip, Aileana huddled deeper into Toran’s embrace and held on to his arm for dear, sweet life. As they flew faster and faster, she could not even summon her Voice to order him to stop, or to slow to a pace that would seem less fraught with chances for mishap. But being thrown from the horse, or dashed into trees or rocks, was one thing. She feared even more that Toran was right. If they were caught, Colbridge’s men would kill the lot of them. Even she could not count on being spared, since she now appeared to be a runaway. If Colbridge decided against her, he wouldn’t care if she had been carried off against her will. He wouldn’t believe her. And what he and his men might do to her before they killed her was not to be imagined.
Toran’s grip on her never loosened as they bolted between the trees. They ducked overhanging branches. They bounded down the sides of gullies and flew over ridges until it seemed that they would race into the setting sun itself. Aileana clung to the strong arm wrapped around her. She alternated between squeezing her eyes closed and opening them because not seeing where they went frightened her even more than the sight of branches whipping by. One moment she was holding her breath and the next gasping with fear at an uneven jolt or when Toran’s weight shifted as he folded over her and ducked oncoming obstacles.
Kyle followed them at a distance. Aileana might have thought him gone except for the pounding of his horse’s hooves behind them. He pulled even once or twice and exchanged a nod with Toran, then dropped back again. She supposed he served as rear guard and kept watch for pursuit.
Finally, Toran slowed his mount to a walk, cooling it down. He eased his vise-like grip, allowing Aileana her first deep breath in an hour. Pine sap and leaf mold odors filled her nose, sharp above the musk of hard-ridden horse and the heady scent that was uniquely Toran’s own. She heard nothing but the sigh of the wind, birds chirping in the trees, and the steady beat of Toran’s heart against her ear. Leather creaked as he shifted in the saddle to look behind them. Before long, Kyle rode up and stayed along side them for a few paces until he got his breath. “All clear,” he reported.
“Good. Ride back to Donal; make sure they’re away safely,” Toran ordered.
Kyle raised a hand in salute, turned his mount and headed back the way they had come.
While the men talked, Aileana had tried and failed to unclench her cramping hands from Toran’s arm. Seeming to sense her difficulty, he stopped their horse completely, draped the reins over its neck, and wrapped his other arm around her. Gently, he pried her fingers free.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, half turning in his arms to see him. The frown on his face did nothing to ease her fears.
Then Aileana looked down and saw blood where her nails had pierced his skin. Embarrassment washed through her. How could she have clung so desperately to him without even knowing it?
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, keeping her gaze cast down to the small wounds she’d caused.
Instead of admonishing her, Toran took one of her hands in his two large ones and carefully began to rub and knead her cramping fingers. Pain she had not been aware of finally penetrated, and as quickly, began to dissolve away under his care. Aileana realized that it was not unlike
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