Born In Sin Read online

  "Aye, he thought I was only after your father's money and position and that your da was a blind fool for running after a lass who was barely more than a child. He did everything he could to keep us apart. And there were others who thought the widower of a royal noblewoman had no business wasting time with the likes of me."

  Callie gasped indignantly at such snobbery. How dare anyone say such about someone as kind and loving as her precious Morna?

  Morna handed her a pan for her loaf. "Even a little queen gem named Caledonia didn't want me around."

  Callie blushed as she recalled the first year Morna had lived with them. In truth, she had been a rude little runt. But then, her heart had broken at the thought of her father forgetting her and her mother. She'd been terrified that he would love Morna more and send her off to live in the woods by herself.

  They were all stupid fears, but as a young lass, they had seemed well founded. Luckily, Morna had possessed the strength and patience of a saint and had eventually won her over. "I am sorry for that."

  Morna patted her hand. "Don't be. I'm just glad you eventually came around to liking me."

  "I love you, Morna. I couldn't love you more if you were my mother."

  Morna gave her a warm hug. "And I feel the very same for you."

  Callie squeezed her stepmother's hand as Morna released her. "I'm glad you stayed, but I fear Sin won't. He has responsibilities in England that are bound to take him away."

  "Do you want him to stay?"

  "Aye, for some reason I do."

  Morna gave her a probing stare. "For what reason?"

  Callie turned her attention to the loaf she was shaping. Images of Sin whirled through her mind. His kindness with Jamie, his stubbornness with Draven. She remembered the way he felt in her arms, holding her. The way his hard muscles felt underneath her hands.

  His lips on hers.

  Most of all, she remembered the way he looked the first time she had been nice to him. The shocked disbelief in his eyes.

  "He's a good man in need of someone to love him, I think."

  Morna stepped away to put her loaves in the oven. "Well, I will do whatever I can to help. I'll even take a stick to Aster's backside if need be."

  Callie laughed at that. She'd love to witness the event.

  Excusing herself, Callie put her loaves in, wiped her hands off, then went out into the great hall where the pantry was located. She remembered Sin liking the honey bread he had purchased for Jamie in London and wanted to surprise him with some tonight.

  She paused as she entered the room.

  To her instant dismay, there was a group of men milling around Aster in the great hall. At least a score of them. They spoke in low tones and it was the talk of them that scared her most.

  "We don't want no English devil in our midst. I say we send him back in pieces."

  Callie saw red.

  "David MacDaniel," she said, striding across the room to stand in front of the big, burly brunette who had spoken those words. He stood even in height to her and wore a red and black plaid. He was handsome enough, but too bullish for her tastes. Not that it mattered. She just pitied his poor wife for having to deal with his mulish ways.

  Callie put her hands on her hips and gave him a chiding glare. "I can't believe you'd say such a thing about my husband."

  He refused to back down. "Why? It's the truth. If there's one Sassenach here, then there will be more sent. How long do you think it'll be before Henry overruns us?"

  "Let's make an example of him! Show the English what we do when they dare—"

  "Why don't you do that?"

  Silence descended instantly.

  Callie turned to see Sin walking slowly down the stairs. He moved like a dangerous black lion. His shoulders were thrown back, his gait one of deadly precision. His black gaze swept the men with a steely glint that made several of them gulp audibly.

  They stepped back, allowing Sin to approach the center of the group. An aura of power clung to him and sent a shiver over her.

  Again she was struck by how little this lethal knight reminded her of the playful man who had teased her in the courtyard in London. When Sin wore his warrior's cloak, he was truly something to behold, and yet she missed the more playful side of him. The side of him that could make her laugh and was full of tenderness.

  But both sides of him made her quiver with desire.

  He swept the men surrounding him with a cool, measuring glance. "You want me out of here? Pick twelve of your best and meet me outside in three minutes. If I win, all of you will do as I say… and if you win, I'll go home."

  David snorted. "What kind of fools do you take us for? We know better than to trust the word of an Englishman."

  A taunting, evil smile hovered at the edges of Sin's lips as he moved to stand before David. "What, are you afraid you can't beat me?"

  A roar went through the men.

  "Those who are willing to try, meet me outside." Sin strode casually from the hall, out the door.

  Callie ran after him, her heart pounding in fear.

  Twelve men against him? It was ludicrous! They would pound him into gravel.

  Outside the door, on the stoop, she took his arm and pulled him to a stop. "Are you insane? They will mangle you."

  An amused gleam came into his dark eyes as he reached one hand up to cup her cheek. "Nay, mon ange, they won't do anything more than hurt themselves by trying."

  Och, she could strangle him. "Must everything with you be a fight?"

  A haunted look filled his eyes and he dropped his hand away from her cheek, leaving it cold without his warmth. "It's all I know, Callie. Now stand aside."

  She saw the men coming outside. Her heart pounded even more furiously. She didn't want him to do this.

  "Aster!" she shouted to her uncle. "Stop them."

  "Nay, he issued the challenge and I will see it met."

  Before she could protest further, twelve men charged Sin. Callie crossed herself and cringed as they plowed into her husband and knocked him off his feet.

  He rolled and came up standing, and when the next man charged, Sin grabbed his arm and flipped him up and over, to land on his back.

  Gaping, she watched as he single-handedly brought all twelve men to the ground. Over and over. Every time one came at him, the man ended up at Sin's feet. Her husband never drew a weapon and none of her clansmen ever got a single blow on him.

  She'd never seen anything like it in her life.

  Still her clansmen fought, and with every move they made, Sin made a countermove that had them flat in the dirt.

  "He is a devil!" Aster snarled. "No man can fight like that."

  After several minutes, all twelve men lay on the ground, panting.

  "Do you yield?" Sin asked as he surveyed her fallen clansmen. He wasn't even breathing heavily. The only sign of their struggle was the dust on his clothes. "Or shall we continue this?"

  Her clansmen pushed themselves up slowly. They looked at each other shamefaced. She could tell none wanted to admit defeat, but no one wanted to go at Sin another time, either.

  The only one of the men to approach him again was Tavish MacTierney. Not too much shorter than Sin, he was twice as thick, with beefy, muscled arms. The man had never been defeated in a fight before. He walked up to Sin slowly, calmly, then held his hand out to him.

  "Tavish be my name, lad. It was a fair fight and I'll be holding no grudges. One day, I'd really like you to show me how you did that."

  Sin stared at the proffered hand. It was a gesture he hadn't expected.

  "I'd be glad to." He shook arms with the tall man, who reminded him quite a bit of his brother Ewan.

  Tavish nodded, dusted his clothes off, then headed away from them, toward the castle gates.

  The other men curled their lips while their eyes spoke loudly of the hatred they bore him.

  Sin walked straight toward Aster, who glared his open hostility at him while the rest of the men dispersed. Their Gaelic
insults were mumbled, but Sin heard and understood them all.

  Aster didn't even try to mask his feelings. So be it. He didn't need the old man's help to find the Raider.

  Sin feigned a warm, taunting smile at Aster. "Looks like I'll be staying, then."

  The old man looked as if Sin had just offered him a piece of excrement.

  Callie breathed a sigh of relief even though she knew things were far from fine. In time they would see the man her husband was, and she hoped then they would learn tolerance.

  She stepped forward, wanting to take Sin's hand.

  Faster than she could move, Sin grabbed her roughly, shoved her in front of him and held her at arm's length. His grip was so tight on her upper arms that she protested audibly. He refused to let go.

  Aster's glare turned murderous.

  A strange popping sound rent the air and Sin took a step forward, his gaze turning dull as his grip tightened even more. The familiar tic returned to his jaw.

  Then as quickly as he had grabbed her, he let go.

  "What was that about?" she asked as she rubbed her upper arms where his grip had bitten into her flesh.

  Without answering, Sin whirled about, and it was then she saw the arrow that was embedded into his left shoulder.

  Horror assailed her, and as she stared at the macabre sight of the arrow, she realized what Sin had done. He had known the arrow was coming and had held her still to make sure the arrow struck him and not her.

  Her husband had saved her life.

  "Find whoever did this," Aster roared to the others before they could leave. "I want the head of whatever idiot took such a chance with Callie's life!"

  As the men ran about the yard looking for the culprit, Aster moved toward them. "Are you all right?"

  "Nay, I am shot," Sin said, his tone wry. Other than grimacing, he seemed completely oblivious to the wound. "And in truth I am quite vexed. When I find the coward who did this, I shall gladly give you his ballocks."

  Callie ached for the pain he must be in. "We need to get you inside…" Her voice trailed off as Sin stepped away from her and headed toward the wall.

  She exchanged a puzzled frown with Aster. Whatever was Sin doing?

  Aster shrugged as if reading her thoughts.

  To her horror, Sin went to the wall and threw his back against it, driving the arrow completely through his body.

  Tears welled in her eyes as she fought down a scream and watched Sin snap the head of the arrow off with his good hand. His face pale, he walked stiffly toward them, then gave Aster his back. "Pull it out."

  By his expression, she could tell her uncle had never seen anything like it. "Good God, man, how can you stand to move?"

  "If this was the worst wound of my life, I would be very fortunate indeed. Now pull it out so the wound can be stitched."

  Aster shook his head in disbelief as he took the arrow in his hand and Callie bit her lip in sympathetic pain.

  Sin's jaw flexed.

  Instinctively, she took Sin's right hand in hers and braced her left hand against his uninjured shoulder. He leaned forward against her arm, tensing in expectation of Aster's actions.

  Callie held his right hand between her breasts and stroked his fingers, seeking to give him whatever comfort she could.

  With a frown, Sin looked at their hands joined, but said nothing. His gaze held hers and she saw the pain and anger that burned deep inside him.

  "Thank you," she whispered. "But I wish you had just told me to duck."

  Her words succeeded in lightening his face.

  At least until Aster braced one hand against Sin's injured shoulder, then tugged the wooden spindle free. Sin cursed loudly as he staggered forward a step.

  Callie pulled him into her arms, holding him tight, wishing she could take the pain from his body and make the wound heal instantly.

  Sin didn't know what to say as his shoulder throbbed. The fierce pain was overshadowed by the warm softness of her breasts against his chest, of the sweet feminine lavender scent of her hair. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the soothing smell and just let her comfort wash over him.

  She had her arm wrapped about his neck, her small hand buried in his hair as she held him to her. It was the most wondrous thing he'd ever felt, and for a moment he could almost pretend to be her husband in truth.

  His lips were so close to her delectable smell that all he had to do was turn his head ever so slightly and he could bury them in the curve of her neck. He hardened at the thought. Not even the pain of his wound could override the desire he held for her.

  "I will find and punish whoever did this," she whispered, pulling back to stare up at him. The sincerity of those light green eyes amazed him. He stared in wonderment and ached to show her just how much those words meant to him. "I will not see you harmed."

  He didn't know how to respond to that. "It's just a flesh wound," he said dismissively.

  "It could have killed you."

  "Pity it didn't." Aster's barely audible words cut through him, quelling his lust instantly.

  Nay, there would never be anything between him and Callie except wishful dreams. The thought stung him much more deeply than it should have.

  Ignoring her uncle's comment, Callie took his hand and led Sin into the castle.

  They were going up the stairs as Simon was headed down them.

  Simon nodded a greeting, walked past, then backed up the stairs to stop them. "Are you bleeding?" Simon indicated the tear in Sin's surcoat.

  "It would appear so," Sin answered sarcastically.

  "Good Lord, what happened?"

  Sin shrugged. "Apparently someone doesn't want me here. No doubt you, either, so guard your back, little brother. The last thing I want to do is tell Draven you're dead."

  "Have no fear. The last thing I want you to do is tell him I'm dead." Simon paused and looked back toward his room. "I'm thinking perhaps I should return to my room and don my armor before I go eat."

  "Not a bad plan."

  Callie interrupted them. "Gentlemen, please, I need to see to this wound lest he bleed to death from it."

  Sin dismissed her worry. "It missed the artery. I assure you, I won't bleed to death from this."

  Callie frowned at her husband and his calm acceptance of everything. It was as if he expected nothing more than to be insulted and wounded. "Then humor me, please."

  Without further voiced complaints, he followed her to their room, though the look in his eyes told her that many an unspoken complaint circled in his mind.

  Callie helped him pull his surcoat off. She frowned as she studied the hole where the arrow had pierced him. "Strange. You can barely see the blood on the cloth, and yet I feel it." There was a lot of blood on the cloth, actually.

  Sin looked up from his inspection of his wound.

  "The black is tinted with red dye to mask any injuries I might have. In battle, it confuses and scares my enemies who know they have injured me and yet can't see the blood."

  "Hence the invincible devil epitaph they have applied to you?"

  He nodded as he took a seat on the edge of her bed and held a clean cloth to his shoulder.

  Callie prepared her needle and thread and did her best not to notice just how delectable her husband's body was when bared. The dim light in the room caught against the rich, tawny flesh, making it even more mouthwatering. Och, but the man was handsome.

  " 'Tis an interesting trick. Where did you learn it?" she asked, trying to distract herself.

  She didn't really expect an answer, so when she got one, it surprised her.

  "While I lived with the Saracens. It was one of the lessons they taught me."

  Now she understood the strange tactics he'd used to defeat her clansmen. "The fighting you used below—they taught you that as well?"

  "Aye."

  How strange, for him to be so revealing. Callie took the cloth from his hand and inspected the ravaged skin. Her stomach clenched at the new wound that lanced across skin already sca
rred from previous injuries. She ran her fingers over him, aching at the thought of what he had already lived through. His hard skin was so warm and his hair brushed against her hand as she prepared his shoulder by cleansing it with a wine-drenched cloth.

  Her poor husband.

  "How long did you live there?" she asked, trying to distract herself from his lush, muscled skin and the desire she had to kiss it and him.

  "Almost five years."

  Callie paused. Five years. It was a long time to live among one's enemies. She tried to imagine what it would have been like for her to live in London for that long while yearning to be home. No wonder he had told her he understood her need to return to her family.

  Of all men, he knew it on a level she couldn't even begin to fathom.

  "Why did you live with them for so long?" she asked as she drew the first stitch.

  He tensed only the tiniest bit before he spoke. "I had no choice. I was their slave. Every time I tried to escape, they brought me back."

  Her heart lurched at his words. By the ragged note in his voice she could tell they had made him suffer greatly for those attempts at freedom. Her gaze dropped to the long, jagged scars across his back and she wondered how many beatings he must have suffered at their hands.

  And he had been just a lad. No older than Dermot. She swallowed as it dawned on her that he would have been even younger than Dermot.

  She carefully made another stitch. "How did you finally get away?"

  "Henry. They sent me to kill him, and as I was sneaking through his camp, I had a thought that if ever I was to have freedom again, Henry would be the only one who could help me. So instead of cutting his throat, I bargained with him."

  She tied off her thread and cut it. "I'm still surprised he helped you."

  "As was I. I honestly expected him to kill me once I let him up. But I figured either way I would be free."

  The horror of it. She couldn't imagine trying to make such a decision. "How old were you?"

  "Ten-and-eight."

  "You were just a child."

  "I was never a child."

  Nay, he wasn't. And that was the worst part about all of this. He'd spent the whole of his life as an outsider. Here, in England and in Outremer. She couldn't imagine living like that.