To Tame A Highland Warrior

Page 56

“When that rogue Alastair—and do you know, I came to find out later he was married—took me outside and kissed me, I heard a dreadful racket in the bushes. He said it was likely a ferocious animal.”
“And then he told how grateful you should be that you had him to protect you, right?” Grimm mocked. I almost killed the bastard for touching you.
“That’s not funny. I was truly frightened.”
“Were you really, Jillian?” Grimm regarded her levelly. “By which? The man holding you, or the beast in the bush?”
Jillian met his gaze and licked her lips, which were suddenly dry. “Not the beast. Alastair was a blackguard, and had he not been discomfited by the noise, the saints only know what he might have done to me. I was young and, God, I was so innocent!”
“Yes.”
“Quinn asked me to marry him today,” she announced, watching him carefully.
Grimm was silent.
“I haven’t kissed him yet, so I don’t know if he’s a better kisser. Do you suppose he will be? Better than you, I mean?”
Grimm did not reply.
“Grimm? Will he be a better kisser than you?”
A low rumble filled the air. “Yes, Jillian.” Grimm sighed, and went off to find his horse.
Grimm managed to elude her for almost an entire day. It was late at night before she finally managed to intercept him as he was leaving the ill men’s chambers.
“You know, even when I wasn’t sure you were really there, I still felt … safe. Because you might be there.”
The hint of an approving smile curved his lips. “Yes, Jillian.”
Jillian turned away.
“Jillian?”
She froze.
“Have you kissed Quinn yet?”
“No, Grimm.”
“Oh. Well, you’d better get on it, lass.”
Jillian scowled.
“I saw you at the Royal Bazaar.”
Finally Jillian had succeeded in getting him all to herself for more than a few forced moments. With Quinn and Ramsay confined to bed, she’d asked Grimm to join her for dinner in the Greathall and had been astonished when he’d readily consented. She sat on one side of the long table, peering at his darkly handsome face through the vines of a candelabrum that held dozens of flickering tapers. They’d been dining in silence, broken only by the clatter of plates and goblets. The maids had retreated to deliver broth to the men upstairs. Three days had passed since they’d returned, during which she’d tried desperately to recapture the tenderness she’d glimpsed in Durrkesh, to no avail. She hadn’t been able to get him to stand still long enough to try for another kiss.
Nothing in his face moved. Not a lash flickered. “Yes.”
If he answered her with one more annoyingly evasive “yes,” she might fly into a rage. She wanted answers. She wanted to know what really went on inside Grimm’s head, inside his heart. She wanted to know if the single kiss they’d shared had tilted his world with the same catastrophic force that had leveled hers. “You were spying on me,” Jillian accused, peeping through the candles with a scowl. “I wasn’t being truthful when I said it made me feel safe. It made me angry,” she lied.
Grimm picked up a pewter goblet of wine, drained it, and carefully rolled the cold metal between his palms. Jillian watched his precise, controlled motion and was overwhelmed with hatred for all deliberate actions. Her life had been lived that way, one cautious, precise choice after another, with the exception of when she was around Grimm. She wanted to see him act like she felt: out of control, emotional. Let him have an outburst or two. She didn’t want kisses offered on the weak excuse of saving her from bad choices. She needed to know she could get beneath his skin the way he penetrated hers. Her hands fisted in her lap, scrunching the fabric of her gown between her fingers.
What would he do if she quit trying to be civil and collected?
She drew a deep breath. “Why did you keep watching me? Why did you leave Caithness, only to follow me all those times?” she demanded with more vehemence than she’d intended, and her words echoed off the stone walls.
Grimm didn’t take his eyes from the polished pewter between his palms. “I had to see that all was well with you, Jillian,” he said quietly. “Have you kissed Quinn yet?”
“You never breathed a word to me! You’d just come and look at me, and then I’d turn around and you’d be gone.”
“I took a vow to keep you from harm, Jillian. It was only natural that I should check on you when you were nearby. Have you kissed Quinn yet?” he demanded.