Declan’s hand replaced hers, rubbing the spot she acknowledged. Rosalie felt her heart skip, trying to catch up with the change in her blood flow. Their eyes met, and in the next moment, his lips were on hers. She could smell the sweat, the grass, and the clean, fresh air. His hand cradled the back of her neck tenderly, but his kisses were hungry and eager.
There was a brief second when Rosalie could have protested, but it passed, and soon, her world melted into where his skin touched hers. With each kiss, she could feel the heat spreading down between her thighs, yearning for his touch. His fingers wandered over her arms, raising the hair on end with his gentle touch. The way he cradled her neck made her feel safe and…loved.
She felt his hand wander down the front of her dress, feeling the curves of her body. A small moan escaped her lips. He stopped his kisses, parting just enough to feel her quiver as his hand pulled her skirts up.
They looked into each other’s eyes. Rosalie could tell he was waiting for her to stop him, but at that moment, it was the last thing she wanted to do. A nervous fear mingled with the intense desire to have him relieve the pent-up tension building between them. He kept staring into her eyes, entranced by what he saw there, as his hand struggled to find bare flesh beneath the many layers.
Rosalie inhaled sharply when his fingers hit their mark. She gripped his arm and neck for support as her muscles tensed. Declan’s pupils dilated with lust as his fingers slid in easily, feeling how wet he’d made the shy girl.
The sensations pulsing through Rosalie’s body were more than she’d experienced. Tiny jolts of pleasure coursed through her each time he moved, exploring her. His stares were too intense; her eyes rolled up.
Declan’s mouth pressed into her once more. Rosalie wanted him now more than ever. Of anyone to share such a precious gift, she wished it was him. He withdrew his hand, and Rosalie’s hips bucked forward instinctively, craving his touch. Declan pulled back and ran his hands down her body. He planted kisses in a trail as he moved down. His eyes were mischievous, and Rosalie could not look away, her breath caught in anticipation. He pushed her skirts up and lifted her hips towards him.
“No, no, no…” Rosalie understood all at once, and insecurity and uncertainty overcame her. She pinched her knees tight.
“Shhh, relax, my bonnie lass,” he smiled.
His strong hands applied gentle pressure to the insides of her thighs. Rosalie opened up for him, casting her eyes away in embarrassment. She let out a small cry of both surprise and pleasure as his tongue met her womanhood. She looked down and met his eyes, peeking up at her. Joy and lust and satisfaction sparked in his bright blue orbs. Rosalie relaxed.
Her fingers curled into his thick hair. Her hips met the thrust of his tongue, slowly rocking back and forth under the guidance of his hands. The sensations built until it felt like she wouldn’t be able to take any more. Rosalie cried out as she felt her first orgasm shudder through her.
The sun was lowering over the hillside. Her body relaxed, and her mind started to clear. Declan traced his fingers over the inside of her thigh. Her muscles quivered, hyper-sensitive. He kissed up to her neck, running his hand alongside her cheek. Rosalie could not speak. She nuzzled into him and let her hands explore the firm muscles of his body.
“I want ye bad,” he whispered.
The need in his voice sent a fresh rush of shivers over her body. Rosalie wondered what it would feel like, and felt her muscles tighten in memory of his fingers and tongue. She looked up at him and knew if he tried to take her then, she would be helpless against it. He kissed her, this time pressing into her and holding it. She could feel him struggling with himself, sense it. He let out a frustrated growl and pulled from her.
Rosalie propped herself up on her elbows. A smile burned into her face, and it hurt, and yet would not fade. His frustration was adorable. She pitied him, knowing what her body was doing, but the butterflies in her stomach and the rush of feelings coursing through her wouldn’t let her feel anything except bliss.
“Ye think this is funny?” His grin was crooked.
Rosalie shrugged, trying her best to contain the giggles.
“Yer a wee li’l temptress.” He paced in front of her, eying her as if longing to pounce, “An’ I don’ think I can keep control twice.”
Those words sent pangs of want and need through her. She wanted him more than anyone—but not now, not quite yet. She cocked her head to the side, still smiling, “Should we leave, then?” The giddiness she felt knocked her toes together in excitement.
Declan stood with both hands on hips. He hinged at the waist and groaned. “Aye, before I tear ye apart, ye wee devil.”
The walk up the hill was more strenuous than the flirtatious chase down. It served them well to have the physical efforts to calm their passions. Every few steps, Rosalie would steal a nervous glance over her shoulder. It frightened her to see the sun dipping lower. Her legs still felt like jelly from Declan’s tour down south, and no matter how she willed them, she thought she couldn’t move fast enough to get home in time.
“Slow down,” Declan huffed.
“I cannae,” she cursed as she approached the peak and realized the valley below would already have shadows stretching over it. “I’m goin’ tae be in so much trouble if Magda or Enoch or anyone gets tae Anna ‘fore I do.”
“Relax, Rosalie, everythin’ will be fine.”
Rosalie bit her lip. “’Tis easy fer you to say,” she spoke between pants as she climbed hand over foot to scale a large boulder. “Ye can marry whoever ye want, an’ do whatever ye want.”
Declan scoffed, “No’ true.”
Rosalie looked down at him from between the crook in her arm. “Oh, yeah?”
“I cannae marry you, can I?”
There was an emphasis on that question. Could he? Rosalie bit her lip and doubled her efforts. Without a doubt, she would rather marry Declan, but the cost of doing so was more than her guilt would allow her to live through. Even so, was this some ploy? Some trick to get her hose down? Rosalie looked down at him. Nothing about him seemed dishonest, but Magda’s ample warnings about men and their sly nature rattled through, darkening the edges of her perception with mistrust. No, she told herself. If that were true, he would have taken me.
“Hurry!” Rosalie summited and looked over the darkening hillside. She wrung her hands and watched Declan clamber up, the anxiety building in her each second he made her wait.
Declan smiled, sweat beading at his brow. He tried to kiss her, but she evaded him and smirked. “Don’t start tha’ again. Yer goin’ tae get me in trouble! We have to go.” She bit at a small bit of cuticle peeling away, trying to calm her nerves.
A heavy sigh racked through his body. He let his shoulders slump over in a dramatized over-exaggeration, “I dinnae want tae say goodbye, Rosie.” Rosalie snapped her head back at the sound of her nickname. “I’m sorry, it jus’ came out,” he apologized.
“No…” She smiled, feeling affection bubble up through her body. “I like the way you say it.” Rosalie mounted his horse on her own. “I don’t want to say goodbye either, but I shouldn’t even be here, an’ look at the trouble ye’ve go’ me in already, Declan.”
Declan mounted, and once more, Rosalie was surprised at just how right his presence was. The smell, the warmth of his body, his breaths tickling the small hairs on her neck, the strength in his gentle touch—it was intoxicating. The comfort of his body around her was not enough to calm her.
“Please, let’s go,” she begged.
“Meet me tonigh’.”
“I cannae.” She was overwhelmed, fighting between what was right for her family and true to her heart. “We’re askin’ fer trouble, Declan.”
“Jus’ one more nigh’.”
The look in his eyes was too much for her. She melted. “Fine, but no’ if ye don’ get me home ‘fore Magda fin’s out wha’ I've done.”
Rosalie jolted forward over the steed as Declan kicked it into a run. The ho
rse cut down the mountain at a speed that made Rosalie’s heart hide in her stomach. As she looked down the steep incline, she thought she might vomit from constant vertigo. If not for Declan holding her close to him, she would have died of fright. She wished they could go faster, and yet, like Declan, hated the thought of saying goodbye.
Anna’s face haunted her all through the trip back. She’d made her friend cry and abandoned her to work by herself. Whatever happiness she felt vanished like a dream upon waking. Even if she got away with running off with Declan, Anna was going to be furious. Magda’s face came into view. If she were caught… Rosalie held her breath. The thought chilled her blood.
The last rays of sunshine melted behind them, and the valley swept with a wet, bone-chilling cold. The horse ran as fast as it could, but Rosalie’s hopes sank.
Chapter Twelve
“Jus’ stay busy an’ don’ offer nothin’ to them, an’ there’ll be no reason tae lie.”
Anna nodded, the color slippin’ from her cheeks. “Please, fer my sake, jus’ don’t see him again.”
Rosalie kept her lips pressed tight together. The night was approaching, and Declan’s last words were fresh on her heart. Anna gave her friend a worried look but decided to drop the matter. She knew the more one pressed Rosalie, the more likely to push her in the opposite direction.
Rosalie kept her eye on Anna throughout the night, watching for any signs of her conscience besting her. To her surprise, Magda’s presence went unnoticed. The moment she did appear to help with the evening meal, Rosalie approached her, hoping to keep her from Anna.
Between the conversation with Declan and the odd encounter with Gale, Rosalie’s curiosity about her family and who she was kept trickling into any thoughts not consumed by Declan. Magda pretended not to see her daughter, and when Rosalie stepped into her path, she handed her the root vegetables she carried.
“Chop these.”
Rosalie obeyed, setting up right next to Magda. “Ye mad at me, or jus’ tryin’ tae avoid tellin’ me abou’ my mum?”
Magda looked at her for a moment. “Both.”
Rosalie sighed and continued to chop. “Ye promised.”
Magda snapped, “I know I promised, an’ I’ll keep ma promise when there’s less work to be done.”
Magda was flustered, and Rosalie decided this was a good thing. At best, it kept her from focusing on Anna; at worst, it would help her glean information about who she was—information that might better help her sort the impending and life-changing dilemma she faced.
“I talked tae Alexander this morn.”
“I know, chil’, I ain’t blind or daft.”
“An’ supposedly, the Lady Catherine knew me mum.”
Magda slammed her ladle down and looked at Rosalie, trying to figure her out. She shook her head and gave a definitive, “No.” She took the vegetables from Rosalie. “She dinnae know yer ma. Is tha’ wha’ this is all abou’?”
Rosalie gave a non-committal shrug. “I still wanna know.”
Magda did not say anything. She stared at the soup as if willing it to boil. Rosalie was content. She’d given Magda enough to keep her attention from Anna.
“Take yer time, but dinnae think I’ll forget.”
The rest of the evening couldn’t pass fast enough for Rosalie. She was grateful Enoch never came back. It wasn’t abnormal, and she wasted no energy, wondering what or who occupied his time. Anna remained glued to Rosalie’s side until it was late enough to excuse herself without arousing suspicion.
Rosalie stayed awake by the fire, paying close attention to the men and women winding down. The moment she waited for came when the moon was high in the sky. Only a few men and one of their wives chatted by the fire. They had drunk enough to interrupt each other, screaming their points across alongside gales of laughter.
No one noticed Rosalie slip away. She paused by her tent and scoured her surroundings for anyone watching. When she was confident the time was right, she moved around the tent’s backside and into the woods.
The moon cut through the branches, lighting her path instead of a torch. Even if the clouds swept over, her spirit felt bright enough at that moment to guide her through. Her steps grew quicker as she neared the clearing. Excited, she burst through the underbrush and bounded towards the two horses and rider. Rosalie slid in her tracks when she realized it was a woman standing where she expected to see Declan.
The woman turned around, and Rosalie flushed, “I’m sorry.” She turned to run back into the woods, unsure of what to make of the unexpected scenario.
“Wait!” The woman called out to her. “Are ye Rosalie?”
Rosalie turned. The lady before her was beautiful, with a kind face. She removed her dark blue hood to reveal long brown hair fingered with gray streaks.
“Aye, I am.”
The young woman feared something was wrong. The older woman’s smile put Rosalie at ease.
“Ye are beautiful. I hope ye dinnae mind—Declan thought it more appropriate if I waited fer ye.”
Rosalie gaped. “He sent ye here tae wait by yerself in the middle o’ the night?”
The woman laughed at the anger, firing up within the redheaded traveler. “Nay.” A rustling from the bushes diverted their attention. “I believe ye met me husband, Hugh, the other day.”
Hugh beamed at her as he crossed the small clearing. “Oi! I tol’ ye she’d come, woman.” He spoke to her with love and admiration. “Don’ ye worry ‘bout Evelyn; even if she were by herself, she’s fierce as a bear. A true Highland lass.”
The woman blushed as her husband planted a kiss on her head. “Declan’s invited ye tae our home if ye’ll come.”
Rosalie grinned, and without a second thought, said, “Aye.”
“If ye don’ mind, I figured ye could ride with me.”
Evelyn waited for Rosalie to nod before mounting her brown and white stallion. Hugh aided Rosalie, even though she didn’t need it, before getting on his horse.
As they rode, excitement surged through Rosalie once more. The night seemed enchanted. Moss and fog sparkled beneath the moonlight. The air was bright and stimulating, but not cold enough to cause discomfort. As they galloped through the Gregor holdings, they didn’t take any roads. It was as if the couple moved on an invisible trail, following the stream until they cut through the forest. This is how he got tae me so fast, Rosalie thought. They followed the curve of the mountainside away from the road and pastures. Tucked tight against the rock were small cottages. Rosalie gaped at the warmth of the little hidden holding. A small stream curled around its boundary, fed from the mountain. This is where they were working.
“Ye’ve sure caught our Declan’s attention,” Evelyn spoke over her shoulder.
Rosalie just smiled. Up ahead, she could hear music and laughter. The closer they came, the stronger grew the smell of roasting meat. Torches fought away the darkness and the beasts of the night, casting the clan in an orange wash of warm light.
They rode the horses right up to a massive central fire pit carved into the concentric hub of the cottages. Rosalie marveled as they passed a high, thick wall encircling the homes and a set of livestock stables, with the mountainside closing the protective ring.
Declan stood across from them, his face flushed and gleaming with a sheen of sweat as if he was catching his breath after a demanding run. The demure behavior he exhibited when they were alone was gone in this place. He smiled at her with open affection as they rode towards him. The twinkle in his eyes sent a flutter from her heart down to her thighs.
Rosalie’s smile broke, and a laugh escaped from her as his joy infected her. Rosalie hardly let the horse stop before she slipped from its back. Declan ran to her at a light jog, and maybe it was because he ran that she ran, too. A foot from each other, they both made an abrupt stop.
Awkwardness passed between them, but their smiles were contagious and seemed to affect the people around them. The excitement and affection between them was more tangible t
han any words. The tempo on the hand drums and tin whistles increased, and couples took each other up, starting to dance to the merry jig.
Declan stared at Rosalie a moment longer before extending his hand to her. She took it and felt a rush of electricity surge from the place his strong hands gripped hers. It was a dance Rosalie was unfamiliar with, but Declan guided her steps, sweeping her in a whirlwind of lively kicks and turns.
By the time the song peaked, they both laughed deep from their bellies. When they stopped, Rosalie’s heart felt as if it would burst, as much from the dance as the growing feelings she had for Declan. Evelyn was staring at them, her head nestled into Hugh’s shoulder. Rosalie blushed when she caught her eye.
“Come with me,” Declan whispered in her ear. It sent sensations rippling through her. He took her hand, and she followed as if gliding through a dream, her happiness all-consuming and surreal.
Highlander’s Gypsy Lass (Highlander's 0f Clan Macgregor Book 1) Page 11
