Bound to a Warrior Read online

  “Do I?” she asked, her deep voice dripping with such coldness that it made the soldiers shiver.

  “Enough, Mercy,” her father ordered.

  She laughed. “You mean you finally surrender?”

  “Chain her,” her father commanded.

  “Take one step toward her and I’ll kill you.”

  Mercy grinned at the sound of the familiar voice, though didn’t turn around to face Duncan. “I told you I wasn’t alone.”

  “One man,” her father laughed.

  “No, Father,” she said, “one gallant warrior.”

  She heard Duncan walk up behind her and waited as he took his place beside her.

  “You’re late,” she teased.

  “And you’re early, though pleased I am to see you,” Duncan said.

  “And I you,” she said, though wished to say so much more, but it would have to wait. First they had to extract themselves from this dilemma.

  “Finally,” her father said with a satisfied grin. “I have you both where I want you.”

  Just as he finished, Mercy felt the tip of a sword to her back and Duncan motioned with a nod that he felt the same. He reached out his hand to her and she grasped hold of it. His long fingers wrapped tightly around her small ones and gave a squeeze as if letting her know all would be well. And she believed it so, for as long as they were together, she had no doubt they would survive.

  “Shackle them,” her father commanded, and the soldiers behind them had them in chains in no time.

  “Now,” her father, said stepping forward. “You’ll—”

  “Step back or I’ll kill you,” Duncan warned.

  Her father laughed. “You are a fool.”

  “You’re the fool,” Duncan said. “If you think that I won’t seek revenge for making the woman I love suffer.”

  “Need I remind you that you are in no position to dictate to me,” her father said.

  “Need I remind you that there is no way in hell I’m going to let you hurt Mercy ever again?”

  “I have no intentions of hurting my daughter,” her father said. “It is you who will suffer until she gives me what I want and then you both will meet death together.”

  Duncan swept Mercy into his arms, and though it looked as if he kissed her, he actually whispered in her mouth.

  “Grab your dagger; we run for it.”

  They parted and she smiled. “I’m ready.”

  With that, Mercy and Duncan moved so swiftly that chaos ensued. They both had daggers in their hands before the soldiers could reach them.

  “Grab them, you fools,” her father shouted, but Mercy and Duncan wounded the two soldiers that charged them, which caused the other soldiers to approach more cautiously.

  Their hesitation gave Duncan and Mercy the time they needed to run and they did. They took off through the woods like arrows being shot from a bow.

  “Don’t stop,” Duncan warned.

  And Mercy didn’t. She kept pace with him, ducking out of the way of branches, jumping over fallen logs and not slowing down even to look back and see if the soldiers were gaining on them.

  They traveled at such speed that when they broke through the trees and saw they approached the edge of a cliff, they didn’t have time to stop. They went straight over.

  The two soldiers halted just in time, though it was the one who lagged behind who prevented the other from going over the edge by grabbing his shirt and yanking him back.

  The two stared over the edge and watched the couple plunge into the raging river below.

  Duncan instantly wrapped his arms around Mercy as they plummeted down to the river. She, in turn, tucked her head against his chest, though not before telling him…

  “I carry your child.”

  “Now you tell me,” he yelled and did all he could to wrap himself around her and protect her and his child from the fall.

  They hit the water and plunged down, and Duncan immediately went to wrap his arm around Mercy to help her swim to the surface. To his surprise she pushed his hand away and began swimming to the top, and he joined her. With them both working together, they surfaced in no time. And together they made it to the bank of the river not far away.

  “Our child?” Duncan asked when finally they stood on the bank, his hand splaying across Mercy’s stomach.

  “Aye, our child,” she said and shivered.

  “We need to get you home and warm in bed,” Duncan said.

  “How I wish, but we are too far—”

  Duncan shook his head. “Do you really think my brothers would let me come entirely alone?”

  Mercy looked around. “But there is no one here.”

  “There will be soon enough. My men watched from a distance and they will see what has happened and come for us.”

  And they did, and with dry clothes, blankets and horses.

  They made it home by nightfall and retired to their bedchamber shortly after their arrival, after informing everyone that they were fine. They cared naught about the shackles. Tomorrow was soon enough to be rid of them. Tonight they simply wanted to be together, to hold each other, touch each other, love each other.

  With hot cider heating their innards and their naked bodies keeping them warm, they snuggled together beneath the blankets. Though it wasn’t long before simple touches turned desirous and passion claimed them.

  It was a gentle mating, soft and considerate for all Mercy had been through, though when he slipped into her, she took over the pace and they were soon lost in a frantic joining that had them exploding with an intensity and had them both calling out each other’s names.

  They laughed afterward and cuddled close.

  “I can’t believe I’m to be a father,” Duncan said, his hand resting gently on her stomach.

  “You didn’t tell anyone,” Mercy said.

  “I wanted to savor the news,” Duncan explained. “I’ll tell them all tomorrow.

  “You feel well?” he asked and then shook his head. “You must. You have survived another plunge off a cliff.” He kissed her. “You know how to swim.”

  “After I healed, I practiced every day.”

  His hand drifted to the scar on her shoulder and his fingers brushed over it ever so lightly. “I am sorry you suffered.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she assured him. “My father is to blame. He wanted to know about the symbol my mother traced on my hand.”

  Duncan released Mercy and plopped flat on his back. Her chained wrist followed his and came to rest across his chest. She turned with it and slipped her leg over his.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked propping her elbow beside his shoulder and resting the side of her head in her hand.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “This will upset me?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “No. Well, I hope not,” he admitted.

  “Then tell me and be done with it.”

  “That piece of hide your mother showed you belonged to the true king of Scotland and the symbol she traced on your hand is a secret code, only the true king can decipher.

  “How do you know this and how did my mother ever come by it?” Mercy asked, confused.

  “I don’t know how your mother came by the piece since it has long been stored in a chest in the solar,” he said. “My brothers and I assume that someone from here stole it and gave it to your mother.”

  “Why?”

  Duncan shrugged. “We don’t know, though if we can find out who stole it, we can find out why it was given to your mother.”

  “This piece of hide is important?”

  “It holds the proof of his birth. It is what makes him the rightful king.”

  “Then he can no longer claim the throne?” she asked, worried.

  “He will take the throne, he knows how, so do not worry.”

  “How do you know so much about the true king?” she asked.

  “That’s what I need to tell you,” he said. “You know the first part of the myth
?”

  Mercy nodded and recited it. “Four warriors ride together and then divide, among them the true king hides.”

  “My brothers and I are the four warriors,” Duncan said.

  Mercy stared at him for a moment, shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, closed it and then shook her head again. Finally she said, “That makes one of you the true king of Scotland.”

  Duncan nodded. “And I cannot reveal his identity.” He took her hand in his. “So I need to know if you will marry me knowing that I may or may not be king.”

  Mercy leaned down and kissed him. “I love you, Duncan, and I would be proud to be your wife, king or not.” With a smile she raised the shackles that bound them. “Chained or not, I am bound to you, but it is love that binds us and forever will.”

  About the Author

  Part of the fun in writing, DONNA FLETCHER admits, is doing the research. Getting lost in the 1500s proved exciting, and learning about pirates and the high seas thrilled and surprised her. But it is with her characters that she has the most fun. She loves giving life to fresh characters and feels their excitement as they face the pleasures and pitfalls of falling in love.

  Donna’s own adventures have taken her to England, Ireland, and Scotland. She has walked the fields where battles were fought centuries ago, toured haunted castles, stood where beheadings were commonplace, explored the mystic mounds of long ago, and collected a plethora of memories and research that will live long in her heart and mind. She also loves exploring and photographing old abandoned homes, and she often takes long walks in the woods with camera in hand. She feels her life is rich and full, having three terrific sons, two fantastic daughters-in-law, an endless supply of friends, a loving dog, and a crazy, black, one-eyed cat named Bear.

  Donna loves hearing from her readers. Please visit her at www.donnafletcher.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  By Donna Fletcher

  BOUND TO A WARRIOR

  THE HIGHLANDER’S FORBIDDEN BRIDE

  THE ANGEL AND THE HIGHLANDER

  UNDER THE HIGHLANDER’S SPELL

  RETURN OF THE ROGUE

  THE HIGHLANDER’S BRIDE

  TAKEN BY STORM

  THE BEWITCHING TWIN

  THE DARING TWIN

  DARK WARRIOR

  LEGENDARY WARRIOR

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  BOUND TO A WARRIOR. Copyright © 2010 by Donna Fletcher. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  First Avon Books paperback printing: September 2010

  EPub Edition © July 2010 ISBN: 978-0-06-200879-4

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