And now, after a chance encounter and but a few moments, she was suddenly considering a strange man—a strange highlander!—to be hers?
What in the blazes is wrong with me?
Testing herself, she catalogued a few of the men around the village who she could admit were at least handsome. Nothing.
She considered Broden. The heat swelled in her belly like a furnace.
Gasping and stifling the effects, she considered how she might react if one of those men were to express any sort of interest. Almost immediately she found herself coming up with excuses to refuse their offers politely.
Then she considered how she’d react should Broden confess such feelings to her. Her heart thrummed like a hummingbird’s wings and she felt her thighs press together as a gentle tickle grew.
Abigail exhaled and convinced herself she hadn’t just heard herself moan, moving forward with the bizarre experiment; imagining an outing—a picnic, perhaps—with any of the other men. Calmness; stillness; boredom.
She considered the same outing with Broden, and suddenly the scene—a crisp blanket for them set out under the shade of a tree with all manner of food and drink—shifted, the contents of their basket cast aside and her on her back upon that blanket and staring up into the intense green gaze of…
The heat became a fire and crept from her belly to lower regions and she forced herself to sit up and stifle the fantasy before her body betrayed her any further.
Then, cupping a hand over her chest and panting, she thought it again:
What in the blazes is wrong with me?
She scolded herself and resigned to absolute control when she came face-to-face with Broden again. There was no denying what she felt, and she knew that it would be foolish (and futile) to try, but the way her body was reacting to these thoughts she’d be liable to attack him—immediate visions of her jumping into his arms and bringing her lips upon his with a ferocity that felt almost violent in her own mind—and, in doing so, risk driving him off. He’d already had to pull her from the brink of death, after all; she was just a daft flatlander with a silly obsession in his eyes. That he’d agreed to help her at all was likely an act of charity to make sure she didn’t march off a cliff again. Throwing herself like a wanton harlot at him upon their next meeting… well, there was only so much insanity a man would be willing to deal with, right? No, she couldn’t risk driving him off. Especially since, if the way his eyes shifted at the mention of the beasts was any indicator, he knew something about them.
And since these new feelings she was having for him would require more than just a little of her attention, she knew that she had to get the closure her mind craved regarding these beasts once and for all.
Find out the truth, she committed, and then deal with… she glanced down at her still-heaving chest and the chilling dampness that was making itself known between her legs and sighed, well… all of that!
Shifting against this, she issued a series of mixed curses and praises to Broden for what he was unknowingly doing to her in the wake of their encounter. The man who oozed sexuality and strength…
His massive frame.
His broad, strong torso and the intoxicating blend of runic tattoos and deep, mysterious scars that littered its surface.
And the faint trail of hair that trailed down his chest, across his toned stomach, and slipped beneath his dark red kilt, urging both her eyes and the rest of her to follow it to…
“Stop it!” she scolded herself aloud.
But there was more to him. Beneath all the layers of power and masculinity and strength and certainty was something… not so certain. A flicker of doubt? No, not doubt. Because there was hope there, too. It was more like… more like somebody who’d given up—resigned to something cold and awful—but been given a new reason.
Or at least, that’s what she thought.
It’s what she hoped, in fact.
Abigail wanted to believe that, somehow, she’d given Broden something like that. After the impact he’d clearly had on her, she could only hope that she’d instilled something in him. And if that something was a newer, more positive outlook, then she’d be content. However, glad as she’d be to know that Broden had found some new reason to drive him through that possible cold and awful something, she secretly wished that she could be that reason.
Foolish as it sounded in her mind, Abigail wanted to believe that she was what Broden wanted; what he needed.
Finally, finding some peace in her thoughts, she allowed her body to relax, the heat beginning to fade over her as she finally fell into a deep sleep filled with dirty dreams.
* * *
Abigail jolted out of bed, covered in sweat and on the verge of orgasm. Catching her breath, she looked around her room and realized she felt disappointed that her—that the—highlander wasn’t there beside her. Sitting there, she worked to catch her breath and calm her body down. Every bit of her was tingling, and visions of the man’s touch—his hands and his mouth and… she blushed and shivered again—on the most sinful parts of her body continued to flash in her mind.
She really had lost it, hadn’t she?
Haven’t even touched him yet, she let her head fall back, defeated, and he’s already making me come…
Letting out a long, slow exhale, she was relieved to feel some of the tension leaving her body. It was still dark out, which meant that she still had a little time before she’d have to get ready to help Ross with the morning’s preparations, but all of it felt like small bursts of eternity—one separating her from her job and then that many more before she’d be able to leave—that existed between the now and the moment she was aching for. The moment she could meet…
The highlander.
She sighed again, catching herself nearly thinking “my” again and decided that, no, she wasn’t about to get any more sleep that night. Dragging herself out of bed and assessing the “damage” between her legs, she hurried to peel off her nightgown and went about getting ready. Though she was never one for overly planned or intricate displays, she found herself, without even meaning to, picking out her clothes in a “noticeable enough to be noticed but not enough to appear obviously noticeable”-mindset. While this fact embarrassed her, it was when she caught herself in the midst of spritzing herself with the perfume that her father had given her two birthdays ago—perfume that she had otherwise never worn except to prove to him that she did—without even meaning to. Did she really have it that bad for the highlander that she cared that much what he thought of her? The thought jolted her and she froze, looking down at the clothes she’d picked out. All of it unpractical and most of it outright dangerous for a hike in the mountains. Groaning, she put the selection away and started again, this time trying to keep her wits about her.
She was on her third pass for a decent outfit before she realized (again) that she was still worried about whether or not Broden would like it. Growling, she threw the blouse to the floor and cupped her face in her hands; she was never this unfocused! She was losing it over a man she hardly knew. Still, a part of her felt a connection it hadn’t felt… well, ever. As strange as it all was, she couldn’t bring herself to fully discredit all the things she was feeling. To this, however, there was a clear and obvious sign of hope: she’d be seeing him again soon enough, and, upon that meeting, she’d be able to more clearly think on all of it.
She hoped.
Thought hadn’t been exactly an easy process the night before, and while she attributed this to the near-death experience she knew that it wasn’t the only factor. Hopefully, between not being in such a precarious situation—again, she hoped—and being better prepared for his arrival, she’d be able to keep her wits about her.
Again, hopefully…
* * *
Work went by in a bizarre haze. Neither fast nor slow, the day was a blur of misheard orders, clumsiness, and, more than anything else, daydreaming. Ross’ patience for all of it was no more forgiving than any other day, but the frequency of
the problems made it seem like she was encountering his temper for the first time all over again. By the end of her shift, Abigail was certain that she’d been docked enough of the day’s pay that she’d wind up owing him for her time there. In either case, however, the work day did—FINALLY!—come to an end, and Ross was barely three slurred words into his demand for her to go home before she was practically running out the door. Eager as she was to head out and begin what she’d been impatiently awaiting since turning away from Broden the night before, she still had one more thing to do.
As she made her way to the clinic, she stepped through and frowned as she saw that Tarah, as usual, was the only one in the office.
Moving her hands on her hips, she let out a sigh. “He did it to ye again?” she demanded.
Tarah shrugged absentmindedly as she adjusted her lenses, “Aye, but I doona mind. Honest. Him not being here is helpful, actually.”
“For who?” Abigail glared. “Tarah, it’s no’ right what he does! How do ye not see it?”
Tarah’s dark gaze moved to hers and she almost wished she kept her mouth shut at the icy gaze that was casted her way. But she was too far in at that point. Before she might have stood down, let her friend’s decision to allow her ongoing mistreatment go unchallenged, but, like with her parents the previous night, Abigail was feeling empowered.
“Maybe ye should take all yer research and send it to—”
“Leave it, Abby,” Tarah shook her head. “If ye persist in discussing this matter, I will ask ye to leave.”
Abigail paused at Tarah’s persistence and held up her hands, forfeiting the argument. “Fine,” she offered before giving a grin. “What if I offer to leave if ye do me a favor?”
“What kind of favor?” her friend eyed her warily.
“I have a… well, let’s just say I’m meeting somebody tonight, and, as ye know, my parents…” Abigail shook her head. “I’d jus’ they rather not know. They would forbid it, and I doona want to miss this chance.”
“Meeting somebody?” Tarah’s look turned from wary to downright suspicious. “What kind of somebody are ye meeting?”
Abigail shrugged and felt a grin betray her. “A man,” she admitted.
Tarah’s expression shifted.
“What? Is it that impossible?” Abby glared down at her.
Tarah didn't say a word, instead she just continued to look suspiciously at her. She couldn't blame Tarah, not really. It wasn't as if she ever showed much interest in men. However, now she really did have a real interest in someone and she wasn't going to lose out on an opportunity to see him again. She knew her parents trusted Tarah, and if she could provide her with an alibi to get away then she wouldn’t have to worry about carriages (or worse) taking to the streets to track her down.
“Please, Tarah!” Abigail pleaded. “I need to get going, and I need to know that I won’t have to worry about Ma and Pa getting crazy that I’m out late. Please! Just tell my parents I’m spending the night with ye, an’ I won’t complain about ye working all the time or about the doc using ye ever again.”
Tarah’s eyes widened at that. “Spending the night with… ye mean ye plan to be with this man all night?” Tarah shook her head. “Abby, that is NO’ a good idea!”
“Och! No! It’s no’ like that! I will’na stay the night with him! He’s jus’ taking me sightseeing, an’ I doona want my parents worrying if we’re late in getting back! Then I will come back and spend the night at yer place. See? Ye’re no’ even lying that way.”
Tarah took a deep breath, shaking her head. “An’ ye promise me ye willna be in any danger?”
Abigail nodded.
Tarah sighed, rolling her eyes, and nodded. “Alright, I’ll send the message to yer parents,” she finally agreed before aiming an accusatory finger at her, “but if shite goes wrong and ye get yerself into trouble, I willna feel an ounce of remorse in telling them that ye snuck out of my home in the wee hours of the night and got yerself into…” she shrugged, “… whatever it is ye could get yerself into.”
Abigail grinned brightly and hugged Tarah tightly, “Thank ye, Tarah! Thank ye so much!”
Tarah laughed and pulled away, “Alright, alright! Just this once though, okay?”
“That’s fine,” she grinned, though she wasn't sure if that was true or not.
If she needed another alibi, Tarah would be the only person she could go to for help. Pausing at that, Abigail quickly pushed away that thought. Who knew if she’d even be seeing the highlander after today? The thought sent a chill through her gut and she frowned, realizing she was actually upset about that idea. Tarah, always the attentive one, was quick to catch onto her friend’s mood change.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I just…” she started before thinking better of it and shaking her head. “It’s nothing.”
Smiling, she gave Tarah another tight hug before turning away and heading out the door. As she made her way to the outskirts of the village, she took a deep breath.
“Alright, Abby, ye can do this,” she whispered to herself as she took the first step away from the village.
Hopefully, he would be there…
Chapter Four
The part of Broden that was still, well, Broden—the Broden he’d come to know himself to be; not the creature that he’d “met” upon his encounter with Abby—knew that he shouldn’t have come. That part knew that he should have let it go and gone back to the life he knew. And were it not for the fact that that life was a miserable and lonely one, he might have entertained the idea. Unfortunately, between the feelings that Abby had stirred up in just a few short minutes, his own burning curiosities, and Grant’s incessant urging on what should have been a hunt, that part of Broden and all the thoughts therefrom were overruled.
In his defense, though, this was the only sort of subject that Broden would ever take Grant’s advice.
Still, he was nervous. Absently, he began to run his thumb over the scar near his lip and shook his head, unsure of what to expect. Abby, everything about her, hadn’t left his mind since their encounter. She hadn’t seemed afraid of him or deterred by the parts of him that he’d been certain would chase away any respectable lass. In fact, as if to defy everything he thought he knew, the girl actually seemed to have the opposite reactions than what he’d have predicted.
Where he’d expect a flinch, he’d seen awe.
Where he’d expect a scowl, he’d seen intrigue.
And where he’d expect silence and loneliness, he’d seen her—Abby.
His Abby!
Alright, he scolded himself again for the exact same blunder, enough of those thoughts, Broden! No more!
Though he still felt a fool for believing it, when she’d looked at him, she’d actually seemed to be looking at him with the same eyes he’d been looking at her. She’d actually seemed attracted to him. And the moment he’d dared to let that sliver of hope slip to Grant the previous night, his brother had all but made the decision for him.
“Ye canna let this moment pass ye by!” he’d said. “The lass didn’t run screaming, aye? No vulgar calls or cries of terror? Och! What more do ye need, ya daft bastard? At the very least ye owe it to her to keep yer promise, but if ye ask me—an’ ye did, mind ye!—ye owe it to yerself just as much. Even if just to try. Yer manhood can only hold on fer so long; the bugger’s likely to sprout legs and run fer greener pastures if ye doona at least try!”
The thought sent a strange sensation through Broden. He wanted her to feel what he was for Abby, he needed to feel anything at all. So long he had been in a daze, throwing all his emotions and attention into protecting and caring for his brothers and now, finally, he had a chance to feel something more.
Perhaps this could be the start of the end of their family’s curse…
Shaking his head, Broden worked to clear the thoughts. Though it was certainly something he’d been pondering, there were too many variables that existed between that moment and the hypothe
tical end that they all craved; too many things that could go wrong. And, as far as Broden was concerned, if it could go wrong, it would go wrong.
No point in getting his hopes up just yet.
Resigning to this thought, he started to pace once more around the clearing near the cliff’s edge. While the pacing helped, he could still feel the mixture of anxiousness and excitement thrumming through him.
The sound of a twig snapping behind redirected his thoughts and he swung around, snarling and prepared for an ambush, only to meet the surprised gaze of Abby.
“S-sorry,” he said. “Doona sneak up on me.”
“Perhaps ye should be paying more attention,” she grinned teasingly, and Broden frowned, unsure what to make of it. “I had called to ye four times.”
“Four times? Och,” he ran a hand across his face. “I was… distracted.”
“It’s okay,” she smiled warmly—reawakening all the thoughts he’d been trying to stifle—and Broden instantly began to calm down. “My friend, Tarah, is the same way. She’s always lost in her—”
“Abby, I think ye should go home,” he shook his head. “It is dangerous out here.”
Seeming startled by the interruption, Abby took a moment to process his words before glaring at him. “No!” there was no pause or waver to the word; she was laying down the law at that moment, and Broden could only stand there and stare as his word was rebutted, something that not even his brothers had ever dared to do. “I’m no’ leaving. No’ yet. Ye… ye promised that, if I left last night and went straight home—and I did!—that ye’d meet me here and help me, and—dammit, Broden!—that’s what’s going to happen now! I did no’ go through this entire day looking forward to this moment just to have ye send me away, highlander!” She planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her already fierce glare into something carnal; something bestial.
Moonlit Seduction (A Hunter's Moon Curse Book 1) Page 5
