To Tame A Highland Warrior Page 55


She was stunned. He couldn’t leave. Not now! Not when she was so confused and frightened by all that had transpired. She needed him now more than ever.

Jillian raced to the stables as swiftly as her feet could carry her. But Grimm was obdurate; he bid her an icy farewell and turned to leave. His failure to comfort her was the final slight she could endure—she flung herself into his arms, demanding with her body that he shelter her and keep her safe.

The kiss that began as an innocent press of lips swiftly became the confirmation of her most secret dreams: Grimm Roderick was the man she would marry.

As her heart filled with elation, he pulled away from her and turned abruptly to his horse, as if their kiss had meant nothing to him. Jillian was shamed and bewildered by his rejection, and the frightening intensity of so many new emotions filled her with desperation.

“You can’t leave! Not after that!” she cried.

“I must leave,” he growled. “And that”—he wiped his mouth furiously—“should never have happened!”

“But it did! And what if you don’t come back, Grimm? What if I never see you again?”

“That’s precisely what I mean to do,” he said fiercely. “You’re not even sixteen. You’ll find a husband. You’ll have a bright future.”

“I’ve already found my husband!” Jillian wailed. “You kissed me!”

“A kiss is not a pledge of marriage!” he snarled. “And it was a mistake. I never should have done it, but you threw yourself at me. What else did you expect me to do?”

“Y-you didn’t want to k-kiss me?” Her eyes darkened with pain.

“I’m a man, Jillian. When a woman throws herself at me, I’m as human as the next!”

“You mean you didn’t feel it too?” she gasped.

“Feel what?” he snorted. “Lust? Of course. You’re a bonny lass.”

Jillian shook her head, mortified. Could she have been so mistaken? Could it truly have been only in her mind? “No, I mean—didn’t you feel like the world was a perfect place and … and we were meant to be …” She trailed off, feeling like the grandest fool.

“Forget about me, Jillian St. Clair. Grow up, marry a handsome laird, and forget about me,” Grimm said stonily. With one swift move he tossed himself on the horse’s back and sped from the stables.

“Don’t leave me, Grimm Roderick! Don’t leave me like this! I love you!”

But he rode off as if she hadn’t spoken. Jillian knew that he’d heard her every word, though she wished he hadn’t. She’d not only flung her body at a man who didn’t want her, she’d flung her heart after him as he left.

Jillian sighed heavily and closed her eyes. It was a bitter memory, but the sting had eased somewhat since Durrkesh. She no longer believed she had been mistaken about how the kiss had affected them, for in Durrkesh the same thing had happened and she’d seen in his eyes with a woman’s sure knowledge that he’d felt it too.

Now all she had to do was get him to admit it.

CHAPTER 15

AFTER SEARCHING FOR OVER AN HOUR, JILLIAN TRACKED Grimm down in the armory. He was standing near a low wooden table, examining several blades, but she could tell he sensed her presence by the stiffening of his back.

“When I was seventeen, I was near Edinburgh,” Jillian informed his rigid back. “I thought I glimpsed you while I was visiting the Hammonds.”

“Yes,” Grimm replied, intently inspecting a hammered shield.

“It was you! I knew it!” Jillian exclaimed. “You were standing near the gatehouse. You were watching me and you looked … unhappy.”

“Yes,” he admitted tightly.

Jillian gazed at Grimm’s broad back a moment, uncertain how to vocalize her feelings. It might have helped immensely if she’d understood herself what she wanted to say, but she didn’t. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because he turned and brushed past her with a cool expression that dared her to humble herself by following him.

She didn’t.

She found him later, in the kitchen, scooping a handful of sugar into his pocket.

“For Occam,” he said defensively.

“The night I went to the Glannises’ ball near Edinburgh,” Jillian continued the conversation where, in her mind, it had recently ended, “it was you in the shadows, wasn’t it? The fall I turned eighteen.”

Grimm sighed heavily. She’d found him yet again. The lass seemed to have a way of knowing where he was, when, and if he was alone. He eyed her with resignation. “Yes,” he replied evenly. That’s the fall you became a woman, Jillian. You were wearing ruby velvet. Your hair was uncurled and cascading over your shoulders. Your brothers were so proud of you. I was stunned.