The Highlander's Excellent Adventure (Survivors, #8)

by Galen, Shana

  She shook her head, but he needed to hear the words and see her face. He pulled back and looked down at her. “Tell me the truth. Did they hurt ye? Did they touch ye?”

  “Não,” she said, gaze direct. “They tied me to a tree near their camp and ignored me. I heard them discussing me, but they did not come near me.”

  Duncan touched the small red mark on the side of her throat, and her eyes widened. “What happened here?”

  She touched the mark. “I tried to get away at first.” She closed her eyes. “I should have fought harder.”

  “Nae, lass.” Duncan rubbed her upper arms, trying to warm her. “Ye were right to go with them and nae tae cause trouble. Men like that have nae honor. They steal what’s nae theirs and terrorize small farms and villages rather than eke oot a living like the rest of us. They dinnae care about the pain they cause or the destruction they leave in their wake. I dinnae think they plan tae hurt ye, but they would if ye became inconvenient. Life doesnae matter to them in the least,” he said bitterly. He knew that too well.

  She wrapped her arms about him again. “You have met men like this before?”

  He took a long, deep breath. “They’re called reivers, and aye. I have met men like them before.”

  She clutched him tighter. “They hurt you?”

  He did not want to speak of that. Even if now had been the right time. But she was cold and wet, and he needed to take care of her. “I am nae hurt. It’s ye I’m worried aboot.”

  She buried her head in his shoulder. “I am so sorry, senhor. Our travel was going so well, and I have ruined everything.”

  Duncan let out a surprised laugh, and she pulled back to look at him. “Ye think this is going well?” he asked. “We’ve little coin, we’ve nae horses or coach, we’ve angered two of the most powerful men in the country, and we’re still days away from my home, where my mother will nae doubt scold me for arriving withoot the one thing she sent me tae London for.”

  Ines stepped back. “That is one way to look at it, but we are also in the company of friends, we are safe now, and we have met many lovely people who offered to let us ride in the back of carts or wagons. And I have seen the beauty of this country. I will never forget this adventure.”

  Duncan did not know where she found her optimism, but he couldn’t find the will to oppose it. “If I dinnae get ye warm and dry, ye’ll never forget the ague that develops. Come closer tae the fire, lass.” He settled her before it, and she sighed in contentment. He had a bit of bread in his satchel, and he gave it to her. “Eat this.”

  She took it, broke it, and offered him half. But of course, she did. “I do not want to eat alone. Sit with me, por favor.”

  Duncan did not think that was a good idea, but he couldn’t seem to refuse her anything. He sat beside her, took half the bread, and ate it in one bite. She looked at the piece she had only nibbled and offered it to him. “I think you need this more than I.”

  “Eat it,” he said. “I willnae have ye starve. Draven will have my heid for that too then.”

  “Is that the last of our food?” she asked.

  “Aye. Stratford and I will have tae hunt if we want tae eat after this.”

  She seemed to consider his words, tilting her head to the side so that her long, damp hair fell over her shoulder and brushed his arm. The feel of it alerted every one of his nerves. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from lowering his head to sniff at her hair, which held the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon. He had to be imagining that. They both must smell like damp wool and smoke.

  “You said it is still days until we reach your home?”

  “Aye.” Duncan could imagine wrapping his hand in her hair and bringing it to his nose to inhale her fragrance more deeply. He’d like to press his face into her neck, taste her skin, touch her until she was not only warm but hot under his fingertips.

  “What would make the trip faster?”

  “Four horses,” he said without thinking.

  Ines shook her head. “Three. I do not know how to ride.”

  “Three then,” he agreed, playing along. “Ye could ride with me.” He’d like to have her seated before him, wrap his arms about her, feel her thighs against his... His body reacted to that thought predictably, and he tamped down the image. She was speaking again, and he tried to listen. “And what would ye sell, lass? Ye’ve no jewelry, and even if ye did, I wouldnae let ye sell it.”

  “I have this,” she said, pulling a collar of lace from a pocket under her dress. He remembered she had been wearing it when he’d first met her, with the yellow dress that he’d ruined with his blood.

  “A scrap of lace?” he said.

  She stiffened, indignant. “This scrap is worth five pounds, at least.”

  “Nae Scotswoman in her right mind will pay ye five pounds for lace.” He looked closer. It was remarkably fine work. “This is Catarina lace?”

  She nodded.

  The ladies in London had certainly driven up the price of the lace, but it would not sell for enough to provide them with three horses. But it could serve as a gesture of goodwill. “I have an idea,” he said. “We might be able tae find a farmer or stableman tae loan us three horses. I can use my uncle’s name, promise payment after we arrive. These lowlanders willnae want tae travel all that way to retrieve their horses, not even for a decent price, but if we had this pretty lace tae offer him tae give tae his wife or sweetheart, he might agree.”

  Ines nodded. “Good. Where is this man? We should speak to him as soon as possible.”

  Duncan pressed her back down as she’d half risen with excitement. “We’ll nae find anyone willing tae do business tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

  Ines sighed then leaned against him, bringing her hair and that scent he so enjoyed even closer. Duncan was well aware he should move away from her. He should keep several feet between them. But he did not move.

  “Where are Mr. Fortescue and Miss Wellesley?” she asked.

  “We left her at the camp. Stratford went tae fetch her. I imagine he’ll bring her back here, since it’s drier than sleeping under the trees. But it will take him some time tae find his way to her and return.”

  She looked up at him. He didn’t like the glint in her eyes. “Then we will be alone for a while longer?”

  “A short while,” he said, though he thought it could be an hour or even two, considering how hard it was raining now. Water ran through the holes in the roof like a faucet had opened. In Stratford’s place, Duncan would have waited for the rain to ease before trying to find his way back to the cottage.

  “Then you have time to kiss me again,” she said.

  He shook his head. “That’s nae a good idea. Remember what happened the last time I kissed ye?”

  She nodded. “I remember. Do you think I am very wicked if I want you to do that again?”

  Christ and all the saints.

  “I think ye are a woman who enjoys pleasure and is nae afraid tae admit it.”

  “I enjoy you, Duncan,” she said. “I want you to kiss me.”

  He was sorely tempted. He knew he should be content to have her beside him, to know she was safe and unhurt. Since the moment the dog had appeared in the clearing without her, his chest had felt tight, and he hadn’t been able to take a deep breath. Not until he had her safe at his side again. She was safe and beside him, but he needed more of her.

  She touched his face, running her fingers lightly over his cheek, then leaning forward slowly. Duncan did not move, merely closed his eyes when her lips brushed over his. She was so sweet, so soft, and her lips were so tempting. He couldn’t stop himself from responding to the kiss. Her hands settled on his shoulders then roamed over his back, gathering fistfuls of his shirt as she deepened the kiss. Duncan felt the sweet press of her soft body against him. He lifted her and settled her on his lap, wanting her even closer. She drew back to settle herself, and he tried not to think about how her legs straddled him and her skirts were hiked up to her knees. Inste
ad, he ran his mouth over her jaw then down her throat, eliciting shivers of pleasure from her as he explored the smooth column of her neck.

  She leaned back, and his mouth slid easily to the hollow at the base of her throat and then lower. Her neckline was modest, but he knew where the pins holding the bodice had been placed, and it seemed a natural thing to pluck them out and lower the material. She wore a thin shift under the dress, thin enough that he could see the dark nipples of her small breasts, erect against the linen. With a shaking hand, he loosed the tie of the shift, so it fell open, exposing that lovely swath of skin.

  She murmured and then her hand was at the tie. He thought she might close it again. He half-hoped she would. Instead, she drew the material down over the swell of her flesh, revealing pale brown areolas tipped with hard buds that tilted upward, begging for his tongue.

  Duncan put his mouth on her, on the top of her breast, then slid his lips down until he circled the center of her. She moaned, that moan that always made his blood race. He had to hear her make that sound again, and so he drew one nipple into his mouth as his hand palmed the other, the tight little peak growing even harder against his skin. She moved against him as he took her into his mouth, whispering words that made no sense in any language—words of encouragement and pleading and pleasure.

  Those words were like whisky to him. He savored each one and enjoyed them as he might a fine, aged single malt. He savored the feel of her in his mouth and against his hand. It was difficult not to notice the heat of her sex near his cock as she wriggled to move closer to him. She had all but given herself up to sensation. He loved that she could do that, loved that he could make her forget everything but his hands and his mouth and his body. She arched her small breasts higher, giving him better access to those pretty nipples. He circled them with his tongue and felt her shiver as her fingers dug into his shoulders. His hands ached to reach between her legs and feel the heat and wetness of her. As though she knew what he was thinking, she drew his face up to hers and kissed him. When they parted, she said, “Por favor. Touch me.”

  His hands drifted down to her slim hips and then he drew up her skirts and slipped under the material where he found the softness of her thighs. She was warm, so warm, and he needed to feel the heat of her sex. Sliding closer to her core, he watched her face tense in anticipation. He slowed, drawing the moment out longer until she began to tremble with want.

  Finally, his fingers brushed her curls and the wetness there. He slid between her slick folds, making her cry out with pleasure. Christ but he wanted to give her that pleasure. He wanted to feel her climax around his fingers. He pushed her gently back, his hand behind her to cushion her. Arms braced on either side of her, he looked down at her. She was beautiful, with her flushed cheeks, her rosy mouth, and her turgid nipples all but aching for him to kiss them.

  “Do not stop.” She looked up at him, her brown eyes hazy with need. “I want you.”

  He gave her a warning look. It would be too easy to be guided by her desire and his cock. Instead, he dug for his meager reserves of restraint. They were limited in the best of times, but now the well was all but empty. “I’ll nae take yer virginity on the floor in a dirty cottage. Ye deserve better than that.”

  “I deserve for my first time to be with a man I love.”

  Duncan’s heart all but stopped. “Lass, ye dinnae love me. Ye dinnae even ken me.”

  She shook her head. “I know you. I knew you even before you knew who I was. My brother-in-law told me all about your bravery in battle.”

  Duncan raised a brow. “He said bravery?”

  She smiled and reached up to caress his cheek. “That is what he meant, não? And I confess”—she let her fingers brush over his cheeks then his lips—“I spied on you when you came to call. I enjoyed looking at you.”

  He grinned. “Did ye now?”

  She nodded. “You are tall and strong with this wild hair.” Her hand slid over the few pieces of hair that had escaped his queue. “And those eyes that make me shiver when you look at me.”

  Duncan lowered his forehead to hers. “Lass, that’s lust, nae love.”

  She kissed him quickly. “That was lust, but now I do know you. And do you know what I love about you?”

  He should not allow her to continue. She shouldn’t love him. He couldn’t marry her. He could never be the man she wanted or needed. “I’m nae the man ye think I am, lass.” He began to pull away, but she cupped the back of his neck and forced him to meet her gaze.

  “The man I think you are never complains, even when he is injured. The man I think you are goes out of his way to help a woman he does not know and cannot talk to just because she is in his carriage.”

  “Nae, I—”

  “The man I think you are hardly sleeps to watch over the rest of us.”

  “I gave Stratford a turn—”

  “I found you sleeping on the floor outside my room at the inn! And that was before you risked your life to rescue me tonight.”

  “Dinnae make it sound like I am some sort of hero. I should never have let ye be taken in the first place.”

  She cupped his face. “I know you, Senhor Murray. I love you, Duncan.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? What could he say? He didn’t have the words, so he showed her with his actions. He kissed her, and when she kissed him back, there was the proof of her feelings. How had he not known she loved him before? She had told him in so many ways. But he’d wanted to pretend those looks were just the product of an infatuation.

  It was more than infatuation. And he should end this now before he let it go too far and broke her heart.

  “Kiss me,” she murmured against his lips, and his heart lurched. He didn’t love her back. He didn’t love anyone—he couldn’t. But he felt something, something more than what he’d wanted to feel. He’d known it the past few days, and it was the reason he tried to keep his distance from her.

  But now here they were, and she was asking him to kiss her, touch her. And Christ but he wanted her. She did deserve to have someone she loved show her what passion could be and should be. He wanted to be the one to give her these first pleasures.

  She pressed her hips up, sliding against his erection, and he realized he’d lowered himself over her. As much as his body wanted to join with hers, her virginity was for her husband. That didn’t mean Duncan was prepared to be wholly honorable. He was no saint. He lowered his mouth to kiss her throat, and the soft skin there seemed to lead to the soft skin of her bare shoulder and her collarbone and then the gentle swell of her breasts.

  Her skin was so soft and sweet. She smelled of rain and starched linen and under all of it the faint scent of vanilla that was her own. He teased her nipple with his tongue while his hand moved under her skirts to mold his hand over her knee then her thigh. She opened for him without him even having to prompt her, and he slid his hand between her thighs. The silk of her inner thighs made his head spin. The heat of her sex was like a beacon calling to him. He slid higher, stroking her soft curls.

  Slowly, drawing his tongue over her nipple, he looked up at her. Her eyes were closed, and her chin tilted upward in what looked like sheer pleasure. “I want tae taste ye, lass,” he murmured.

  Her eyes opened. “Show me.”

  Duncan tried to stop the world from spinning. This woman seemed to have no fear. She was open to his every suggestion, ready for any adventure. He slid down her body, trailing kisses over the material of her dress until he reached the heap of her skirts. He pushed them out of the way, revealing her shapely legs and the triangle of dark hair at their apex. Duncan parted her legs until the pink flesh of her sex was visible. He expected she would resist, but when he looked up at her, she was propped on her elbows looking down at him with curiosity. “Now what will you do?” she asked.

  “What do ye want me tae do, lass?”

  “Touch me,” she said without any embarrassment.

  “Here?” He slid two fingers over her outer lip
s.

  “Sim. More.”

  “What if I touch ye with my mouth. Would that shock ye?”

  Her eyes widened. “I like when you shock me.”

  He chuckled. “I ken ye do. Open wider for me, lass.”

  She obeyed, and he parted her lips until he saw the small nub that would bring her to climax. Turning his head, he kissed her inner thighs, moving slowly upward until his mouth brushed her downy hair. She moaned and arched her breasts upward, already seeming to be half in ecstasy.

  He touched her outer lips with his tongue then slid over them, deliberately avoiding her clitoris, for fear she would come too fast. She writhed and opened wider, welcoming his touch.

  “Duncan,” she said on a breath. Her legs started to tremble as he opened her and slid his tongue against her inner flesh. She was wet and tasted so sweet. He dipped his tongue inside her channel and felt her muscles clench slightly. He could imagine how wet and tight she would feel against his cock.

  “Ye like this, lass?” he asked.

  She answered with a moan and some unintelligible words. He didn’t think they even made sense in Portuguese. She was lost to sensation, lost to the feel of his mouth against her. Her hips arched as her body sought pleasure. He knew how to give it and slid his tongue slowly upward until he barely touched her plump pearl. She moaned and her head thrashed from side to side. Duncan drew back, then touched the tip of his tongue to her again, this time swirling it over her. Her hands fisted in her skirts as she cried out. Her whole body seemed to vibrate, and he took her hips in his hands to steady her. Her body was tight as a violin string, reaching for the pleasure he could give her.

  He flicked at that sensitive bud again, drew back, licked, drew back, and repeated the torment until she was all but begging him por favor.