The Ranger by Monica McCarty
He gave her an exasperated look. “I know.” But then he swore. He pushed her against a large tree, tore the dog from her arms, and then used his body as a shield in front of her. “Stay behind me,” he ordered. “If I tell you to run, do it.”
“I won’t—”
He gave her a fierce glare. “You will. I will do my best to save your dog, but I won’t let you be killed for him.”
Anna didn’t understand. How could he be so certain? She didn’t hear or see anything.
Then she heard it. The faintest sound of movement. Running. Coming toward them.
How had he known …?
The pack sprang out of the trees with bloodcurdling swiftness. Wolves were shy by nature and usually avoided humans. It’s the puppy. That’s what he’d meant. They wanted the puppy.
At first she thought there were a dozen of them, but when her mind cleared to finally enable her to count them, she could see it was only half that many.
“Robby?” she asked.
Sir Arthur shook his head. “I ordered him to stay with the horses.”
She sighed with relief. She didn’t want the young guardsman to unknowingly stumble on them and startle the wolves into attacking him.
Sir Arthur held his sword out, turning from side to side. The wolves snarled, fur standing on end, their eyes pinned to the puppy Sir Arthur had tucked under his arm. Was it her imagination, or did they look hungry?
They seemed to be sitting back, shrewdly assessing their opponent, trying to find his weakness and waiting for the right moment to spring. Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew Sir Arthur was doing the same.
The biggest wolf took a step forward, as if trying to draw Sir Arthur to him. He was, she realized. The other wolves had started to circle behind them. God, how smart they were. The wolf wanted Sir Arthur to move toward him and then the others would attack from the rear.
Instead, Sir Arthur held the puppy out by the scruff, daring the biggest wolf toward him.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
“Hopefully getting rid of the leader. Be ready,” he warned.
When she didn’t respond, he looked at her. “Anna!”
She nodded quickly, not wanting him distracted. Sir Arthur had just turned back when the biggest wolf attacked, leaping through the air for the wriggling pup.
Sir Arthur moved faster than she would have thought possible. She’d never seen reflexes like that. Anna smothered a scream in her hands as he tucked the puppy out of harm’s way with one arm and sliced through the air with the other.
She turned her gaze after seeing the line of red appear across the wolf’s throat. A second later, she heard the thud of its body hit the ground. Without their leader, the wolves seemed to shrink back. Sir Arthur took a few steps forward, swinging the magnificent great sword back and forth in the air effortlessly, though because of the pup he was using only one hand. His right, she noticed. Not even his strong arm.
One more wolf ventured tentatively forward, but a hard hit by the side of the sword cured him of bravery. As quickly as they’d appeared, the wolves fled, disappearing into the darkness.
It had lasted no longer than a minute, but it had been the longest minute of her life. Arthur lowered his sword and turned back to her.
She didn’t know who moved first, but she was in the circle of his arms, pressed up against the hard shield of his chest. She burrowed her head for a moment—not unlike her puppy was doing in the other arm—and let the fear slide from her body.
“Are you all right?”
She looked up at him. His face was so still; the only sign of how affected he’d been was the heavy beat of his heart. She wanted to say she was fine, that she’d never felt more safe, but his mouth was so close that all she could think about was how much she wanted him to kiss her. How much she needed him to kiss her.
He was so handsome, with his dark, wavy brown hair and strange golden-amber eyes. She liked the dent in his chin and the slight crookedness of his nose where it had probably been broken. But it was his mouth, wide and undeniably sensual, that she could not look away from. It looked so soft, while the rest of him was so strong.
He was strong. And safe.
He made a harsh sound in his throat and pressed her closer to him. His gaze lowered to her mouth and she knew he was going to kiss her.
His hand fell to her face. The rough pads of his fingers cupped her chin. Her heart strummed like the strings of a harp. So incredibly gentle. Just like she’d imagined.
His eyes darkened with something hot that made her body flutter in naughty places. He was staring at her mouth as if he wanted to devour her. The sensations were so strong—so palpable—she could almost feel his mouth on hers. The soft caress of lips. Her stomach flipped. The heady taste of spice.
She was so convinced he was going to kiss her that when he released her instead, her legs wobbled.
He looked away for a moment, as if he were fighting some invisible battle, every inch of his body drawn up as tight as a bowstring.
Abruptly, he turned back to her, the heat in his eyes gone. He handed her back the puppy. “We need to get back.”
This time the remote indifference stung. Confused by the intensity of her body’s reaction, by her weakness, his control felt like a slap. He might want her, but he wasn’t going to act on his desire.
Desire. That was what she was feeling. That was what had made her pulse race and her body heat when she thought he was going to kiss her. And that was the disappointment that was crashing through her now.
She squeezed the puppy in her arms and nuzzled his warm, furry head. At least he liked her.
Heat prickled her eyes, but she pushed it back angrily. The emotion was because of the wolves, she told herself. She was feeling vulnerable because of the attack—not because of his rejection.
She drew a deep breath, trying to get hold of her tangled emotions. Like him, she was determined to pretend as if that moment had never happened.
He’d come to her rescue once more, and she’d nearly forgotten to thank him. He tried to lead her away, but she stopped him. “Thank you,” she said.
He shrugged off her gratitude. “It was nothing.”
A modest knight? She didn’t think such a thing existed. But perhaps she should have guessed he’d be that way. He seemed determined not to draw attention to himself.
“I know you probably won’t believe me,” she said, “but I’m not usually this in need of rescue.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “This time it wasn’t you, it was him.” He pointed to the puppy in her arms.
“We were both fortunate to have you looking out for us. Our very own knight in shining armor.”
She was only teasing, but his expression returned to serious. “Don’t believe in faerie tales, Lady Anna. You’ll only be disappointed.”
She heard the warning, but he was wrong. “You were amazing. I’ve never seen anyone react so quickly. It was as if …”
Her brows drew together. The moments before the attack were coming back to her. How did he know the wolves were going to attack? It was the same as at the cliff. It was almost as if he knew what was going to happen, as if he’d sensed it before he should have.
Dear Lord, he had. Her eyes widened, and her gaze jerked to his. Did that explain the strange intensity she’d sensed simmering under the surface? She’d attributed it to watchfulness and keen observation, but was it something more?
She took a step backward and covered her mouth with her hand. “You knew.”
* * *
Arthur tensed, muscles clenched, as he braced himself for the fear. For the revulsion that always came on the rare occasions when someone caught a glimpse of his unusual abilities. Even his own parents had looked at him like that.
As a boy, he’d tried to pretend he wasn’t different. He’d tried to explain. Tried to make them understand that he wasn’t some kind of freak—that his senses were sharper, his awareness heightened, his skill at observ
It was more an inkling.
But after a while he’d stopped trying to explain. It was easier not to deal with it at all. So he kept to himself, and didn’t allow people close enough to give them a chance to guess.
He was different, he knew now. He’d been blessed with extraordinary abilities. Being alone didn’t bother him—hell, he preferred it that way.
But Anna MacDougall wouldn’t let him be. He was trying to resist, but she kept dragging him in. And now she’d seen something that she shouldn’t have.
Though he was prepared for her reaction, her involuntary step back stung. His lungs filled with fire. He pretended not to hear her question and started back toward the horses.
What the hell did he care what she thought? He should be glad to be rid of her.
“Wait,” she said, chasing after him. “Why are you angry?”
He didn’t look at her, but kept walking. “I’m not angry.”
He only sounded that way.
“Wait,” she repeated, grabbing his arm. “I want to talk about what just happened.”
Why the hell did she always have to touch him? He jerked his arm from her grasp but made the mistake of glancing down at her face.
“God damn it, stop looking at me like that,” he growled.
His vehemence startled her, which was good, as it got rid of the hurt.
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like I just stepped on that puppy of yours.”
She lifted her chin, her eyes sparking dangerously. “You’ll have to forgive me; I didn’t realize you had such a strong aversion to my touch. I’ll try to remember it in the future.”
Was the lass daft? He’d laugh if he wasn’t so furious. Aversion to her touch? It should be the other way around. She should be cringing away from him, not touching him. And certainly not looking hurt for him jerking away. What the hell was the matter with her?
She wasn’t acting the way she was supposed to. Even Catherine, the woman who’d professed to love him, had refused to be in the same room with him after he’d pushed her out of the way of a stone corbel that fell where she’d been standing a moment before.
Perhaps Anna hadn’t guessed.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable; it’s just that what you did back there was remarkable.”
She’d guessed all right. But that sure as hell couldn’t be admiration he read in her gaze.
He clenched his jaw. “I fought off a few wolves—anyone could have done as much. You make too much of it. Come. Robby will be wondering what has happened to us.”
If he’d thought to put her off, he’d failed. “It was more than that and you know it. The wolves were too far away for you to have heard them. Yet you knew they were coming. You sensed it before any normal—”
He flinched. Even after more than twenty years of it, he still flinched. That angered him more than anything else. He grabbed her arm and hauled her close to him, bringing her mouth only inches from his. Even through the anger he felt the bolt of gut-wrenching, mind-numbing lust.
She was pushing him from every direction—her incessant flirting, her sweet face and sinful body, her tantalizing scent, her bloody questions—and she didn’t know how close he was to giving her what she was asking for. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t dance. He didn’t play around. If a woman offered, he took. Simple and uncomplicated.
And he kept it that way.
“Look,” he said tightly; fighting the urge to ravish her senseless had stripped him of niceties. Throwing her up against that tree was looking too appealing. “I don’t know what the hell you think you saw, but you’re mistaken. I heard the wolves and reacted. Just because you didn’t hear them, don’t start imagining things.”
“I couldn’t have heard them,” she persisted. “They were too far away.”
“For you. You aren’t trained to look for the signs. The unnatural silence, their scent in the wind.”
But she wasn’t listening to his explanations. He could feel her eyes on his face and regretted their closeness. “What are you trying to hide?”
“Nothing.” He let go of her. Not very gently.
Her scrutiny intensified, and he had to fight the urge not to turn away. God damn it, he didn’t turn away from anything.
“I think you’re lying,” she said softly. “I think you keep to yourself so people won’t see what I just saw. I think you’re pushing me away right now for the same reason.”
Arthur stilled. Everything inside him chilled except for a small place in the very deepest part of him. That was burning.
He didn’t want her compassion, damn it. He wasn’t a puppy that needed rescuing.
He reacted the only way he knew how. His gaze met hers. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m pushing you away because I don’t want you?”
She gasped, flinching from the bald cruelty of his words. She blinked rapidly, and he felt the burning in his chest squeeze and squeeze. But he wouldn’t comfort her. This was for the best.
Still, her wobbly smile nearly broke him. “Much to my shame, it didn’t. I’m sorry for any embarrassment that I may have caused you.”
As regal as any queen, she turned on her heel and walked away.
And despite the fire eating away in his chest, he let her.
Eight
It was the longest ride of Anna’s life. She’d never been so humiliated in her life. But by the time they’d returned to the castle, that humiliation had turned to anger.
“… I don’t want you.”
He’d lied.
She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d held her—he did want her. But for some reason he wanted her to think differently.
Determined to prove that she hadn’t been imagining it, when Robby came over to help her down from her horse, she handed him the puppy instead.
“Sir Arthur,” she said with exaggerated sweetness. “If you would be so kind.”
He gave her a blank look, but she was beginning to be able to read those “blank” looks and saw the flicker of suspicion.
It was warranted.
When he took her hand to help her down, she leaned too far forward, forcing him to catch her to prevent her from falling.
For one long heartbeat, she was stretched out against him, her arms laced around his neck, and her hands brushed against the thick, wavy hair that was every bit as silky soft as it looked. She wanted to dig her fingers into it and pull his face down to hers.
He made a sharp sound at the contact—a groan. That’s what it was. A deep, masculine groan. And when she looked into his eyes, she knew he was lying. He did want her. And if the white lines around his mouth and the tic twitching under his jaw were any indication, it was rather badly.
She wasn’t unaffected herself. Despite the fact that it was hardly a surprise where she’d ended up, she gasped and her heart thumped wildly against the hard, cold steel of his chest—mail or flesh, it was hard to tell the difference.
When her head stopped spinning, she unlaced her arms, allowing her body to slide down his before letting go. He was as hard and unyielding as a rock, every muscle pulled taut. She could feel the tension licking off him like flames from a fire.
“So sorry about that,” she said with a careless smile. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
His eyes narrowed, but she didn’t care. She’d proved her point. She knew it, and more importantly, he knew it.
“Have care, my lady,” he warned in that dark, smoky voice of his. “You wouldn’t want to get hurt doing something foolish.”
“How sweet of you to be concerned.” She almost gave him a fond pat on the cheek but thought that might be rubbing his nose in it a little too much—she had her victory. “But you needn’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
She took her dog from Robby and swept into the castle. Though she was tempted, she didn’t look back. She’d seen that dark
Anna might have been content to leave it at that—female pride intact—if he hadn’t made her curious. Why was he so determined to be rid of her? Was he hiding something, or did he merely seek to avoid the entanglement?
It was almost as if he’d been purposefully trying to be cruel in the forest. As if she’d hit some kind of nerve. She’d merely wanted to thank him for what he’d done—and the extraordinary abilities he’d demonstrated—but he’d reacted as if she’d accused him of being unnatural.
She bit her lip. Was that it? Was he worried about how other people would react? She supposed it was understandable. Differences weren’t tolerated well in today’s society, provoking fear and revulsion.
He’d pretended that he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary.
Had he? She bit her lip, no longer certain. It certainly had felt that he had at the time. It had all happened so fast. Had he read signs that she missed, or had it been something more?
Whatever it was, it seemed he didn’t want to acknowledge it as anything special. Later, he’d explained to her father what had happened in much the same way as the fall from the cliff, severely minimizing her version of the story with an explanation for everything. Her father had scolded her for putting herself in such danger over a dog and expressed his gratitude to Sir Arthur once again.
Anna didn’t understand why Sir Arthur was downplaying what had happened. His skills could be put to great use against the rebels. With his keen abilities, Bruce and his band of pirates would be hard-pressed to wage their ambush-style attacks.
But when she suggested to her father that he take advantage of Sir Arthur’s skills, making him a tracker—or better yet, a scout—you’d have thought from the knight’s reaction that she’d suggested that he clean out the garderobe. Sir Arthur had been furious at her. Each time their eyes met over the next few days, she felt the hot intensity of his gaze bore into her.
Keeping an eye on him turned out to be easier this time around. For that, she had to thank Squire. It seemed her new puppy had developed an attachment to his rescuer. As soon as Anna’s back was turned, Squire—that’s what she’d taken to calling him after she heard the men teasing Sir Arthur that he finally had a squire—would make a beeline for the knight. Whether he was in the yard practicing with the men, in the hall eating, or even in the barracks, the dog would find him. If Sir Arthur went out riding for the day, the puppy would sit whinging by the gate until he returned.