Loved By a Warrior by Donna Fletcher Read Free Book Online

making a comment.
    He shifted her to sit more comfortably against him. “You know, you’re a perfect fit.”
    He was right. She had felt it herself. She did fit with him perfectly, and that’s what worried her the most.

Chapter 5
    â€œS o many farms abandoned,” Tara said, as they approached a small croft that had long been deserted. It appeared as if Mother Nature had reclaimed the land and was about to do the same with the cottage.
    â€œThe kings demand too much from their people. And King Kenneth, who rules over them all, should be creating laws and enforcing them to protect his people. But he’s as busy as the kings taking more than he gives.”
    â€œTimes are troubling,” she said.
    â€œMore than anyone cares to admit.” Reeve lowered her carefully to the ground. “Stand here and don’t move while I remove the debris from around the front door.”
    Tara followed his instructions, not wanting to prove a hindrance to him. He searched the area before starting, disappearing around the side of the cottage and reappearing only moments later. He held up a half-broken barrel and grinned as if he’d been given a gift.
    She smiled herself when he began digging the snow away from the front door and snapping the tree branch that had grown through the lone, small window. He worked with such ease and confidence, like a man comfortable in any task he took on.
    What she liked most was that he worked with a smile and no complaints. She had thought he might balk about the delay her ankle caused, but his concern was more for her comfort, and she was grateful.
    He used his shoulder to get the door open, it proving a bit stubborn at first. But it was no match for his brawn. He vanished inside, and, with a limp, she approached slowly. She hadn’t gotten very far when he appeared in the open doorway.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” he asked. “You shouldn’t be walking on that ankle. It must have time to heal.”
    She was in his arms before she knew it and carried across the threshold. She was surprised to see a single bed with a limp mattress that needed stuffing, a table with one corner rotted away, and two chairs that had seen better days. And a fair-sized cauldron sat to the side of the cold hearth.
    He placed her on the bed. “Those chairs don’t look sturdy; besides, I need to get a fire started. Then I’ll go hunt us something for supper.”
    â€œI should help,” she said, feeling a burden on him.
    He laughed, shook his head, and bounced down on his haunches to reach out and take hold of her leg.
    He held her leg with a tender gentleness while his other hand attempted to work off her boot. It had gone quickly from her not wanting him to touch her to his touching in an intimate fashion. No man had ever caressed the calf of her leg.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. “This may hurt.”
    That he offered an apology astounded her. He was proving to be different than she had first imagined him. When he had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, she had grown even more frightened than she had been. She thought he might join the robbers and then, when she had realized he intended to defend her, she had been stunned. And in the few short hours since they had met, she realized he was no common Highlander warrior. Nor was he easy to define.
    She had watched him dispose of four men as if they were nothing more than annoying gnats, and he had not a bead of sweat on him when he had finished, nor had his breathing been labored.
    He smiled more often than most Highlander warriors that she had known, and he was fearsome when it came to strength and kind when it came to gentleness.
    She winced as he eased the boot down over her injured ankle.
    â€œTake your stocking off,” he ordered.
    â€œWhy?” she demanded.
    His grin turned his face wickedly handsome. “If we pack snow around the ankle, it may take the swelling down.”
    She should