Michelle Willingham - Warrior Of Fire

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A warrior with fire in his soul!Fleeing an unwanted betrothal to the cruel King, Lady Carice knows her days are numbered. She has never felt desirable until she meets Norman soldier Raine de Garenne, and soon she longs to experience passion – if only for one night…Aiding beautiful Carice’s escape jeopardises Raine’s mission, for if he does not kill the King his sisters will pay the price. And as each step towards his goal brings him closer to betraying Carice he knows he’ll have to make a choice.His duty…or his heart.Warriors of IrelandFighting for honour and for love

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Kill the High King, and they would have their freedom. One life taken and two lives given.

He knew well what it was to be a pawn, used for another man’s ruthless commands. But when it was done, he would have his own freedom.

And so would Carice.

* * *

Her body felt as if it were frozen in a block of ice. Carice could hardly feel her hands and feet, and despite the layers of blankets, it wasn’t enough.

Raine hadn’t returned in hours, and she was beginning to wonder if he had left the abbey. He was a man of contradictions. One moment he kissed her like a starving man, and the next, he disappeared, as if he no longer wanted to be near her.

Soon enough, she heard his footsteps approaching, and the door swung open. Snow dotted his hair and cloak while in his hand, he carried a wrapped bundle of food. ‘Eat, and then rest again. We leave tomorrow at nightfall.’

She hesitated, for there was a hint of unrest in his voice. ‘We? I thought you were searching for Trahern MacEgan to bring me to Laochre.’

‘I did not find him,’ he answered, ‘and you lack the strength to travel alone.’

Carice knew that was true, but why had he suddenly changed his mind? Earlier, he’d seemed insistent that she leave him behind. Had her impulsive kiss affected him in such a way that he was now wanting to help her?

She rested her palm against her cheek, studying him. His face was like stone, utterly impassive. No, it didn’t seem that he was feeling in any way protective. Instead, there was impatience in his mood, as if he wanted to leave now. Or perhaps he was wanting to be rid of her.

‘What changed your mind?’ she asked bluntly. ‘You didn’t want to help me before.’

He sat down and unwrapped the food. ‘Eat something before you rest. You’ll need your strength for the journey.’

‘You didn’t answer my question.’ She tried to sit up, and he reached back to help her.

‘Does it matter why?’

The cool tone of his voice bothered her, for he behaved as if she was a burden he didn’t want. ‘If you are too busy with your duties for King Henry, you needn’t trouble yourself on my behalf. I can go alone.’

His expression shifted. ‘You couldn’t last more than a mile, chérie.

‘I made it this far,’ she said quietly. ‘And believe me when I say that no man will force me to marry the Ard-Righ . I will go to the west and live out the remainder of my days in peace.’

‘I was leaving the abbey to return to my men,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’ll take you with me.’

But although she ought to be grateful for his offer, she sensed that he had his own motives.

‘Eat,’ he repeated, holding out the bundle.

She glanced at the food he offered and noticed that he’d roasted a rabbit. So that was where he’d gone—to hunt for meat, as he’d promised before. Her stomach growled, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for the hot food. It was as if she could never get enough to eat, after all the years of suffering.

‘You need not bring me very far,’ she said quietly. ‘Laochre is hardly more than a day’s journey. If you bring me there, the MacEgans will see to my care after that.’

It was a reasonable solution and one that would not trouble him any more than was necessary. She waited for him to agree, but those green eyes narrowed upon her. Instead, he seemed disinterested in her suggestion.

‘Or I could escort you to the west, if that is what you want.’ He spoke with no emotion, his gaze not meeting her eyes.

Now that, she didn’t believe for a moment. Raine de Garenne had admitted that he was occupied with the king’s orders. He would have to return to his soldiers and commander. Nothing had changed, so far as she could tell.

‘Where are your men?’

He shrugged. ‘They are camped east of here. But I could delay my return to them.’

Her senses went on alert, and she didn’t at all believe he would journey with her, out of the goodness of his heart. ‘You want something from me, don’t you?’

He leaned forward and broke off a piece of the meat, his hand brushing against hers. She jolted at the contact, and his expression fixed upon her. ‘Perhaps I do.’

Her mind flashed back to the kiss, though she knew that was not the reason. Her cheeks reddened, and she asked, ‘What reason would bring you from your duties to act as my escort?’

Raine picked up another piece of meat and guided it to her lips. The simple gesture undid her good sense, crumbling away her thoughts. His thumb edged her mouth, reminding her of the shared embrace.

She chewed and swallowed, feeling a mild panic rising. Was he trying to seduce her? Had she inadvertently suggested that she wanted more than a kiss?

‘Not that,’ she insisted, returning his stare. He didn’t smile in teasing, nor did he react. ‘If you’re wanting a reward, silver pieces are all I can give to you.’

‘You have knowledge of the kings of Éireann, have you not?’

The pieces fell into place then. He could gain permission from his commander to escort her west if she gave him political information. He wanted her to share what she knew, so he could use the information against his enemies. But she was not a traitor.

‘I can tell you nothing,’ she argued. ‘All I know is what I have heard from my father. My knowledge would be of no use to you.’ And even if she did know something, she would never betray her countrymen to the Norman army.

Raine leaned in closer on the bed, balancing his weight upon both hands. At his nearness, she wanted to back away, but she forced herself not to be intimidated by him.

‘Your father made certain you were taught the Norman tongue, didn’t he? Because he wanted you to be able to negotiate between the Normans and the Irish. A useful skill for the Queen of Éireann.’

‘And for speaking to you,’ she countered. Her posture stiffened. ‘There is nothing I can tell you. And if that is what you want, then I must go to Laochre alone.’ She had no desire to reveal information that was never meant for a Norman’s ears.

‘You haven’t the strength for that journey,’ he argued.

Although he was right, she saw no alternative. ‘I will do what I must.’

‘Your father’s men will find you,’ he predicted. ‘And they will force you to return to the High King for your marriage.’

Perhaps they would try, but she wasn’t about to surrender. ‘I will never wed a man like the Ard-Righ.’ She ate more of the rabbit, sating her hunger. ‘Or any man, for that matter.’

‘Your father won’t give up until you’re found.’

‘He can try to find me,’ was her reply, though she knew it was true. Her father would not stop searching for her, no matter how long it took. Brian was a stubborn, proud man who delighted in having his own way—but he did love her. He wanted her to be Queen of Éireann, for it reflected well upon him.

Raine sat back, sharing the meat with her. It seemed that the more she ate, the hungrier she became. It had been so long since eating had not caused her stomach to seize with cramping. She savoured the food, and then he unfolded the bundle again, revealing dried apples.

‘Where did you get these?’ she asked, startled to see the fruit.

‘I found them stored within the kitchen.’ He gave them to her, and she was grateful for the fruit, almost greedy at the taste of it. But as she devoured the apples, she was reminded that the monks who had once lived here were now gone. It felt even more like they were trespassing like scavengers.

‘What happened to the priests who lived here?’ she asked him.

‘They died in the fire.’ He offered nothing else, but the dark tone suggested that he felt responsible for the deaths. She stopped eating, studying his expression in the hopes of glimpsing the truth. He claimed that he was a Norman warrior, and she suspected he was a man accustomed to killing.

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