If You Dare

With the breeze blowing in, she could hear the music carried along, could hear it even over the horses' hooves clacking on cobblestone. "I want to stay here tonight."

"There are hours until dark. We need to get farther on."

Each night he would take a room for her, just long enough for her to rest and change her bandage or get a bath and for Coachy to sleep on his bench. Making up for time lost to daily morning storms, MacCarrick pushed them well into the night and then had them setting out before dawn, though she never saw him sleeping.

She thought the only reason he'd stopped at all was because he didn't want her to get too exhausted. So she sighed wearily. "I just felt…faint," she lied. "From the arduous pace you've been keeping."

He gave her an irritated look. "You doona feel faint or I'd know it. Do you want to stay here so badly that you'd lie to me?"

She scrunched her lips. "Well, yes."

He scowled. A minute later, he called out new directions.

She gave him her most wi

Her brother was not only alive, but he was free as well, which was a gift beyond measure. The man with her, whom she'd suspected of awful things, hadn't done them and was actually behaving for the most part like a gentleman instead of a Scot.

Was life perfect? No, she still didn't know what to do with the Highlander during those times when he did not act the gentleman, and she still feared the Rechazados. On the outside, she'd acted unconcerned about the attacks, but in reality they'd terrified her. That fear was part of why she wanted to revel today.

They passed a group of giggling young women strolling along the street with their baskets swinging and their pied skirts swaying, and a thought struck her. "I want clothes."

"What?"

"I need clothes," she amended. "Mine are all gowns, except for my one decent dress, but even though it's been repaired it still reminds me of when I was shot."

Did he wince at that word? "How do you plan to pay for them?"

"You must buy them for me." They would be simple in a village like this, but she didn't care.

"And I would do that because…"

"You said you'd keep me safe. That was our bargain. Well, look at the clothing here. See those girls. Their garments move—I'd be able to move more easily."

"You're trying to convince me that new clothes equate to safety?" He looked at her as if he'd never understand her.

"Yes. How am I doing?"

"No' too well. But the way your mind works is intriguing."

Court was nonchalant with her, concealing the fact that nothing chapped him as much as A

He wondered if there was ever a worse situation than desiring a woman who didn't even consider you a man. Because she was meant for better. Wasn't that what she'd said?

If she would simply ask him for something…Even as he considered it, the possibility made him distinctly uneasy. He'd discovered in the last couple of days that he wanted to be able to provide her with things she needed or desired. If she figured out how badly he wanted that, and that the only thing stopping him was her inability to ask, she would be merciless.

Once they'd arrived at the town's i

"No."

She raised her eyebrows at his tone.

"This place isn't protected." Everything about the i

But the desk in their room he could use. He called down for paper and ink.

"Are we going to write my brother?" She knelt atop the chair giving him an excited smile. "And send it to The Vines?"

The chit had a smile that made poor misbegotten bastards like him want to see it again. He shook himself. "Aye. I'm going to write directions in Gaelic, and I want you to copy them in your own handwriting."

"Why?"

"They'll probably have a dictionary at the school, and if no' they'll be able to lay hands on one. Any Rechazado who might intercept this will no'. It must be in your handwriting, so he'll trust it." After the maid brought writing supplies, he scratched out a missive, then watched as she nibbled her lip, struggling to decipher his handwriting and copy it. "This is the oddest language I've ever seen."

He gave her an incredulous look. "You were bloody studying Greek."

"Oh, that's right, you were in my room. Did you enjoy my things?"

"Aye," he answered shamelessly. "I did when I slept in your soft bed."

She glanced down, blushing, then quickly said, "Did you see all my clothes?"

He almost gri

"I don't understand why you are being so difficult."

"You doona need to be out on the streets."

"But you will keep me safe," she answered, as though he'd uttered something foolish.

He strode for the door. "No, you need to rest. I'll have a bath sent up and wait outside till you're done."

Just as he had his hand on the door handle, she said, "MacCarrick, would you please buy me just a few new garments?"

He froze. Christ, she'd actually done it. This was the begi

She stood and lightly touched his elbow, an u

He closed his eyes. He'd just have to deny her. Or put a price on them she wouldn't want to pay. He turned with a lecherous look. "Lass, you ken they will no' come cheaply."

No angry words, no scathing retorts. "I also now know you won't take advantage of a girl under your protection with no money and no family here to care for her."

He bit out a harsh curse under his breath. "Do you no' need to rest?"

"Dresses, MacCarrick," she reminded him gently.

Once the seamstress had finished up a quick hem on her new skirt and the vivacious shopkeeper had packed her purchases, A

When he entered, he went no further than the tight doorway, standing there with her as he surveyed her simple blouse and skirt. He stared at her face and her breasts and all the way down and up again, unhurriedly. This wasn't the first time he'd examined her so rudely, but this time his lingering gaze didn't infuriate her. This time, it felt like a touch.

The shopkeeper murmured, "I envy you the night you're going to have."

MacCarrick must have heard her because he turned away from A

Both the shopkeeper and the seamstress had told A

When MacCarrick went to the counter to pay, the shopkeeper bent forward to present the bill—and her cleavage—to him. If A

The French!

On their way back to the i