It was taking all of Gabriel's concentration to keep his anger under control. He turned his gaze to the ground and once again counted the number of dead wolves, just to make certain his eyes hadn't deceived him. Then he looked back up at her.

She hadn't moved to do his bidding. God's truth, she couldn't. The threat of the wolves wasn't over yet. There was still one down below, waiting to pounce on her.

"Johanna, get down here."

She didn't appreciate his surly tone of voice. She would have told him so, too, but she didn't believe her opinion would matter much to him. She guessed she'd better try to accommodate him.

Unfortunately, her legs refused to accommodate her.

She'd been gripping the branch with her thighs for so long, they seemed to turn to jelly when she tried to scoot down the trunk.

In the end, Gabriel had to come up and fetch her. He had to peel her hands away from the branch. She couldn't seem to let go.

He placed her arms around his neck, then pulled her up against him. His one arm was spanning her waist, his other was draped over the branch to keep the two of them from slipping.

He didn't move for a long minute. Johanna hadn't realized how cold she was until the heat from his body began to warm her. She was shaking now.

So was he, she noticed. Was he so furious with her, he was shaking with rage?

"Gabriel?"

The fear he heard in her voice was his undoing. "You will cease being afraid of me, damn it," he told her in a low, furious whisper. "God's truth, I would like to throttle some sense into you, woman, but I won't ever harm you."

His rebuke stung. She hadn't done anything to cause his displeasure… except perhaps ignoring his ridiculous order to rest. Aye, she thought to herself, she did disregard his suggestion.

"I have already ceased being afraid of you, damn it," she muttered against the side of his neck. She let out a sigh then. Gabriel was partial to honesty, and she supposed she'd only prick his anger further if she didn't give him the full truth now.

The man looked ready to throttle something all right. "I'm not afraid of you most of the time," she added in a rush. "Why are you so angry with me?"

He didn't answer her question. He couldn't. He was still in jeopardy of bellowing at her. He would wait until he had his temper under control before explaining she'd taken a good twenty years off his life by giving him such a scare.

Her husband tightened his hold on her. Her question had obviously upset him. She couldn't imagine why. She wasn't a mind reader, after all. She thought about mentioning that fact, then changed her mind. It wouldn't do her any good at all to incite his fury. She was his wife and therefore should try to soothe him.

She decided to change the topic. She'd start with praise, thinking to please him. "You were right, husband. The woods are infested with wolves."

It was the wrong thing to say to him. She came to that conclusion when his grip tightened and he let out a loud, shuddering breath.

"I'm getting you all wet, m'lord," she blurted out, trying to turn his attention away from her unfortunate mention of wolves.

"You're soaked through," he snapped. "You're going to catch a fever and be dead in a week."

"I will not," she announced. "I'll change into dry clothing and be as fit as ever. You're squeezing the breath out of me, husband. Do let up on your hold."

Gabriel ignored her request. He let out an expletive, then suddenly moved. She tightened her hold on his neck and closed her eyes. She'd let him worry about keeping the branches out of her face on the way down.

He wouldn't let her walk. He carried her over to his mount, lifted her up higher, and then dropped her onto the saddle. He wasn't overly gentle about the task.

She immediately tried to straighten her underskirts. The material was stuck to her skin. She knew she didn't look like a decent lady now, glanced down, and let out a gasp of dismay when she saw how her clothing was clinging to her breasts. She quickly threaded her fingers through her hair and pulled it forward to cover her chest.

Thankfully the soldiers weren't paying her any attention. Gabriel stood with his back to her and ordered the removal of the wolves. Calum and Keith jumped down from their mounts to tie ropes around the wolves' necks.

"Drag them back to the ridge and burn them," Gabriel commanded. He tossed the reins to Johanna's mare in Lindsay's direction and ordered him and the other soldiers to return to the keep.

He wanted a moment alone with his wife.

Calum gave her a sympathetic look before taking his leave. He obviously believed she was going to catch hell. So did Keith, if his dour expression was an indicator.

She held her head high, folded her hands together, and pretended to be composed.

Gabriel waited until his soldiers had left before turning back to her. He put his hand on her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Have you nothing to say to me, wife?"

She nodded. He waited. "Well?" he finally demanded.

"I wish you would get over your anger."

"That isn't what I want to hear."

She put her hand on top of his. "You expect an apology, don't you? Very well, then. I'm sorry I ignored your suggestion to rest."

"Suggestion?"

"You needn't bellow at me, husband. It's rude."

"Rude?"

She didn't understand why he needed to repeat what she'd just said. He didn't understand why she wasn't hysterical over her encounter with the wolves. Didn't she understand what could have happened? Dear God, he couldn't quit thinking about it. She could have been torn apart by the wild beasts.

"Johanna, I want you to promise me you'll never again leave the keep without a proper escort."

His voice sounded hoarse. She thought it might be due to the fact that he was trying to keep himself from shouting at her. If that deduction was true, then her husband was actually being considerate of her feelings.

"M'lord, I don't want to become a prisoner in your home," she explained. "I've already had to resort to trickery just so I could do a spot of hunting. I should be able to come and go as I please."

"You should not."

"With an escort then?"

"Damn it, woman, that's just what I…"

"Suggested?"

"I didn't suggest. I demanded a promise from you."

She patted his hand. He wasn't in the mood to be soothed, however. He motioned to the ground beneath the tree where her shredded plaid lay. "Don't you realize you could have been torn apart as quickly and as easily as your plaid?"

The truth had been slow to dawn on her. Her eyes widened in surprise. He thought she was finally beginning to understand her jeopardy. He nodded. "Aye, you could have been killed, wife."

She smiled. It wasn't the reaction he'd hoped to gain. How could he ever teach her caution if she didn't understand the dangers all around her?

He scowled with frustration. "I have been trying to get used to having a wife, Johanna. You make the adjustment difficult. Why in God's name are you smiling?"

"I have only just realized, m'lord, that your anger is due to my near miss. I believed you were upset because I disregarded your suggestion to rest. Now I understand," she added with a nod. " 'Tis the truth you're beginning to care for me. Your heart has softened, hasn't it, husband?"

He wasn't about to let her jump to such foolish conclusions. He shook his head. "You're my wife and I will always protect you. That is my duty, Johanna. But I'm a warrior, first and always. You seem to have forgotten that important fact."

She didn't know what in heaven's name he was talking about. "What does being a warrior have to do with your attitude toward me?"

"Matters of the heart do not concern me," he explained.

She straightened her shoulders. "They don't concern me either," she replied, lest he believe she'd been hurt by his opinion. "And I, too, thought only to get used to having you around."