"Who did this to you?"

Clare closed her eyes. She avoided answering the question by asking one of her own. "Last night… you said I was safe. I remember hearing you whisper those words to me. Were you telling the truth? Am I safe here?"

"Yes, of course you are."

"Where is here?"

Johanna hurried to introduce herself and then explained what had happened. She deliberately left out the mention about the arrow she'd put in Robert MacInnes's thigh and the arrow her husband put in his shoulder. By the time she was finished with her explanation, Clare was falling asleep again.

"We'll talk later," she promised. "Sleep now, Clare. You may stay with us for as long as you wish. Hilda will bring you something to eat in just a little while. You'll…"

Johanna quit talking when she realized Clare MacKay was sound asleep. She tucked the covers around the woman, moved her chair back, and left the room.

Gabriel was reaching for his boots when Johanna walked into their chamber.

"Good morning, m'lord," she said in greeting. "Did you sleep well?"

He frowned in reaction. Johanna went over to the window and pulled the furs back. From the yellow cast in the sky, she guessed it was only a few minutes past dawn.

"You were told to stay in bed," he said. "Did you wait until I fell asleep and then leave again?"

"Yes."

His frown intensified. She decided to try to placate him.

"I thought I would rest for a few minutes before going downstairs. I am weary."

"You look half dead."

"My appearance isn't important," she announced even as her hands flew to her hair and she tried to tuck the curls back into her braid.

"Come here, Johanna."

She walked across the room to stand in front of him. He reached down to untie the belt holding her plaid in place.

"You will stay where you're put," he announced.

She tried to slap his hands away. "I'm not a piece of jewelry or a trinket only to be taken off a shelf when the mood strikes you, m'lord."

Gabriel caught hold of her chin and leaned down to kiss her. He thought only to get her to quit frowning, but her lips were so damned soft and appealing, he forgot his reason. He put his arms around his wife and hauled her up against him.

His kisses made her weak-kneed and dizzy. She put her arms around her husband's waist and held tight. She decided it was quite all right to allow him to rob her of her every thought. He was her husband, after all. Besides, when he was kissing her, he couldn't scowl… or lecture.

She didn't remember undressing or getting into bed. Gabriel must have carried her there. He'd taken his clothes off, too. He covered her with his body, captured the sides of her face with his hands, and gave her a seering kiss. His tongue moved inside her mouth to rub against hers.

She loved to touch him, to feel his hot skin under her fingertips, to caress the splay of hard muscle along his upper arms and shoulders. When she wrapped her arms around her husband, she felt as though she'd captured his strength and his power.

He was a wonder to her, a revelation. Gabriel was as strong as the fittest of warriors, and yet so incredibly gentle whenever he touched her.

She loved the fact that she could make him lose his control. She didn't have to guess that might be true either; Gabriel told her. She felt… free with him, and completely uninhibited as well, for her husband seemed to like whatever she wanted to do.

He made her lose her own control, of course. She wasn't one to scream her demands, but by the time he quit his teasing and moved to mate with her, she was wild to make him end this sweet torment.

She cried out when he entered her, and he immediately stopped. "God, Johanna, I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, God, I hope you did mean to," she whispered. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and squeezed him tight inside her. "Gabriel, I don't wish you to stop now. I want you to move."

He thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He ignored her command and leaned up on his elbows to look into her eyes. He saw the passion there and almost lost all his control then. Dear Lord, she was beautiful… and so damned giving.

"You're a lustful wench." He was trying to tease her, but his voice sounded gruff. "I like that," he added with a groan when she moved so restlessly against him.

Gabriel had made her burn for him and now refused to give her fulfillment or take his own.

"Husband, this activity requires your participation," she cried out, her frustration beyond reason now.

"I thought I'd drive you daft first," he told her in a husky whisper.

It turned out to be an empty boast, for Gabriel felt as though he was the one who lost his mind when she dragged him down for a long, passionate kiss and moved against him so provocatively. His discipline deserted him. His movements became forceful and demanding, though surely no more demanding than his wife's.

They found fulfillment together. Johanna held onto her husband as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her. She felt safe in his strong arms, certainly sated, and almost loved. It was more than she'd ever had before or ever dreamed was possible.

She fell asleep sighing.

Gabriel thought he might have crushed her to death. She went completely limp in his arms. He rolled onto his side and whispered her name. She didn't answer him. She was breathing though. Had passion sent her into a dead faint? Gabriel smiled, for that possibility did appeal to him. He knew the true reason, of course. Johanna was exhausted. She'd spent most of the night watching over their new charge.

He leaned down, kissed her brow, and got out of bed. "You will rest," he whispered. He smiled then. The little woman was actually obeying him. Of course she hadn't heard his order; she was already sound asleep, but it still made him feel damned happy to give a command he knew would be obeyed.

Gabriel covered his wife, got dressed, and quietly left the chamber.

The day started out pleasant enough, but it soured fast. Calum was waiting for his laird in the great hall with the announcement that another petition had arrived from Baron Goode requesting an audience with Lady Johanna. The messenger who delivered the request came from Laird Gillevrey again and waited by Calum's side to hear Gabriel's reply.

"Is the baron waiting at the border of your land?" he asked the soldier.

"Nay, Laird. He sent a representative. His goal is to convince Lady Johanna to meet with Baron Goode near England's border."

Gabriel shook his head. "My wife isn't going anywhere. She doesn't want to speak to Baron Goode. England is a part of her past now, and she looks only to her future here. Tell your laird I thank him for acting as mediary. I'm sorry he's been inconvenienced by the English. I'll find a way to repay him for his efforts in keeping the baron and his vassals away from my holding."

"What exactly do you wish me to tell the representative?" the soldier asked. "I'll memorize every word. Laird MacBain, and recount just as you've spoken."

"Tell him my wife will not speak to any barons and that it would be foolish indeed if they continue to pester her."

The messenger bowed and left the hall. Gabriel turned to Calum. "You will not mention this to my wife. She doesn't need to know the baron is again trying to get to her."

"As you wish, Laird."

Gabriel nodded. He tried to put the irritant of the English baron behind him, but his day still didn't improve. The Maclaurins weren't getting any of their duties done, and there were three accidents before noon. The soldiers were preoccupied; they acted as though they'd been given a grave insult and couldn't stand the thought of working side by side with the MacBain soldiers. It was apparent they blamed the MacBains for the mess they believed they were in.

Odd but the Maclaurins didn't like warring much. Gabriel found their attitude puzzling. He thought they might have lost their zest for battle after they lost almost all they owned when last under siege by the English. Still, Gabriel found their attitude a shameful trait. Highlanders should embrace war, not abhor it.

The merging of the two clans was taking longer than he'd anticipated. He had wanted to give each clansman time to adjust to all the changes, but he now realized he had been too damned accommodating. All that was going to stop. His followers would either put their differences aside or suffer his displeasure.

Work on the wall was going at a snail's pace. On a usual day, one MacBain soldier could do the work of three Maclaurins. Today didn't qualify as usual, however. The Maclaurins were muttering like old men. Their concentration certainly wasn't on their work, and nothing significant was getting done.

Gabriel's patience was at an end. He was about to challenge a few of the blatant offenders when Calum chased him down with the report that yet another messenger had arrived.

Gabriel wasn't in the mood for another interruption. He much preferred the idea of bashing a few Maclaurin heads together. He didn't particularly care for the news he was given either. The news was sure to please his wife, however, he supposed.

He wanted Johanna to be happy. He wasn't certain why it mattered to him, but he was honest enough to admit her happiness was important.

Hell, he was getting soft. The messenger was shaking in his boots by the time Gabriel gave him permission to leave. He made him repeat the message he wanted taken back to England, for the man's attention was interrupted when Dumfries came running into the hall. The dog growled; the man bolted, and Gabriel found his first smile since early morning.