The Highlander's Triumph by Eliza Knight Read Free Book Online Page B

now turning grey with nightfall. Bending to the ground, he wiped his weapons on the grass and sheathed them. Muscles tingly from battle, he walked back to camp, mumbling one word answers to his men who were still riled up over the battle. He’d never let any of them know how worried he was about Mariana.
    S he’d better be sitting pretty on the log where he’d left her.
    The camp was in chaos as men ran hither and yon to pack up supplies, sew up injuries, snap shoulders and put other joints back into place, wrap wounds, and drown their pain with swigs of whisky. Brandon narrowed his eyes, until they came to rest on a pale, shaken Mariana—on the bench where he’d left her, an ashen Jared by her side.
    A rush of relief so acute, it nearly buckled his knees, pummeled him. She was safe.
    He’d not let himself feel the full force of his worry, was too ensconced in trying to win the battle. And now that he saw her, all of the feelings he’d kept at bay rushed him like a pack of wild animals on their prey. He swiped a hand over his face, scrubbed it through his hair.
    Brandon took his time studying her. Her cheeks were flushed and smudged with dirt. Dark tresses, wild and unkempt. Eyes wide and frantically searching. She wrung her tiny hands, lips were pursed. Then her gaze met his from across the way and he felt as if time stood still. The sounds of the men packing up camp dissipated, and the only thing he seemed to be aware of was Mariana.
    She jumped to her feet at the same time he step ped toward her. A swirl of Highland mist crept in from around the edges of camp. His stomach tightened, chest clenched. Brandon wanted to run to her, to pull her into his arms and tell her never to leave his sight again. To yell at her for having scared him. To take comfort in her warmth, let the rush of battle be soothed by her stroking hands upon his shoulders, through his hair. To kiss her, to slide his tongue between her lips and make love to her with his mouth.
    Brandon shoved past a few warriors in his need to reach her, to touch her. Why he felt this uncontrollable urge, he had no clue, didn’t want to think about that. Mariana too took a step forward, and he wanted to pummel Jared when his fingers clutched at her cloak stopping her. She turned to yank free, and Brandon growled, intent on issuing the recruit a rebuke when Jared saw his approach. The lad raised his hands in surrender and took a step back. Mariana followed Jared’s line of vision, her eyes locking on Brandon’s and pink coloring her cheeks. Her lashes closed over her eyes as she glanced down at the ground, an attempt to look meek, but the triumphant smile curling her lips was anything but.
    “I…” she started, but trailed off, her voice raspy like she needed to catch her breath. “I saw the other warriors return, but hadn’t seen you, my laird. I was…”
    Brandon stopped inches from her, forcing his hands to remain by his sides. “Did ye fear for me lass?”
    She looked up, eyes wide open then and while her lips played with his mind, her eyes spoke the truth. She nodded.
    “I am here. Where were ye?”
    “I wanted to wash my face,” she said softly, reaching up to touch her chin.
    “Ye did not do a good job.” This time he gave in to his urge to touch her, his thumb brushing over a streak of black on her cheek.
    Mariana leaned into his touch. “ Oui , ’tis the truth I never got the chance.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Battle broke out, scared me half to death.”
    “And have ye recovered?”
    “ Oui , my laird.”
    God’s teeth , he loved the way she spoke. Mariana flicked her tongue over her lips, took his hand from her face and held it in her grasp. Her fingers were cold.
    “’Tis the truth I am glad you’re safe,” she whispered. “I feared…”
    Brandon shook his head, his smile full of confidence. Without thinking, he took both her hands in his and rubbed some warmth into them. He looked down at their clasped hands and promptly dropped