* * *
After talking with William and hearing Charles’ name cursed like the cad he was, Amelia felt lighter. She returned to Fiona with a smile, and despite the dark clouds and an impending storm, they completed their walk about the grounds, into the woods, laughing and talking together as before, with their plaids wrapped tightly around them to fight the harsh winds.
After, Fiona left to rest in her chamber, and instead of drinking her tea by the fire or in the library, Amelia decided to explore the castle a bit. She hadn’t really had the time or the energy to do so before, and today, she had the sudden urge to see what secrets an old Scottish castle might hold. And a storm had begun to roll and flash outside, and her imagination soared.
“What poetry could be hidden between its walls!” She took her book with her and a plaid and decided to start with the hallway off the main hall where Donald had tried to take her. This led up to the library, which she knew well, but along that upper floor were several rooms she hadn’t had the chance to peek into.
Slowly and quietly, she crept down the hall as if she was a rogue adventurer, seeking out mysterious treasures in unknown lands.
She smiled to herself like a child with her secret adventure afoot. Just like the land had a language all its own, so did an old castle, who has stood stalwart for centuries. It spoke words of which she did not understand, but if she was to listen closely, she might catch something.
She wandered down the corridor, finding old storage rooms and unused chambers sometimes with beds and sometimes empty. But, one room at the end of the hall emitted a strange glow, and so she excitedly crept her way there, unsure of what she’d find. The door was slightly ajar, and she noticed a movement inside. She peered in through the slim opening of the door, and her heart stopped, and she took a quick inhale of breath.
A fire was burning in the hearth, and a soaking tub sat in front, unused but filled, ready for an occupant. And in front of the tub stood Jamie, naked down to his waist. Amelia knew it was wrong to watch someone at their most intimate moment, but she couldn’t will her body to move or her eyes to look away. Her tongue had turned to sandpaper, and her eyes moved from his head and slid all the way down to his feet.
He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She’d been thinking men were just weak and useless, and maybe their minds and passion are, but not their bodies. This, this specimen of Scottish blood was a man, a real man. Amelia had never seen a naked man before. He’d just removed his shirt, she could tell, since it was pooled at his feet. He stood staring at the fire, seemingly deep in thought. His hands were on his hips, and his breeches were untied at the front. They hung low on his hips, accenting the deep lines that curved toward his manhood. Every part of his body was muscled from his calves to his shoulders. His skin glistened with sweat and glowed in the firelight. A light sprinkling of hair covered his chest and drew her eyes as she followed its path down…there, to where she saw a bulge that made her swallow slowly. She watched as a rivulet of sweat traveled from under his ear winding down to the front of his neck to land in the dip at the top of his chest. A wicked desire to follow that path with her tongue pricked her mind.
The storm thrashed outside, but she didn’t hear its sound. Her conscience kept telling her to look away, but her body was suffused with heat, and she didn’t understand it. It was that same heat she kept feeling every time he came near, but this was different. It was deep, coming from her core, something she’d never felt before and couldn’t quite explain.
Suddenly he shifted, turning towards the inside of the room, his back to her, and Amelia saw it. Thick lines of scars ran across his back from side to side, splaying out like a fan. She even noticed a circular wound that stared at her from his left side, presumably done by a musket.
Amelia gasped. She saw Jamie start, and then she quickly backed herself up against the outside wall, closing her eyes tightly, praying that he didn’t hear it, praying that she wouldn’t be caught in such an embarrassing situation and have to endure that devilishly handsome and satisfied grin of his.
“Bloody hell!” she whispered and hurried down the hallway as quietly as she could, desperate to be away from her sin and shame. She had gawked at a naked man for what felt like hours. Her face burned with shame as she hurried down the dark passage, her castle adventure forgotten.
She decided to return to the library to cool the heat that covered her skin. And it would not be suspicious to find her in the library, not as suspicious to find her outside of a naked man’s room staring unabashedly at his beauty.
The friendly warmth of the library did nothing to help assuage the heat within her, but it did make her feel safe within its stone walls and wooden shelves. The smell of leather and oil made her relax enough to take a deep breath and begin to walk from shelf to shelf, looking aimlessly at various titles. She couldn’t sit just yet. She had to pace, pace and digest what she had just seen.
Out of your mind, put it out of your mind, Amelia! So, the man is good-looking. So, he’s beautifully, incredibly, soul-touchingly, makes-me-ache handsome.
Her sensibility returned. What should that matter? He’s still an unbelievable cad. And she scoffed aloud.
But, then she paused, licking her lips, leaning her back against the wall of books, the leather spines supporting her as she let herself dip into the freshness of the memory. “I didn’t know a man could have so many muscles,” she whispered. She sighed, and crossed her arms, her eyes staring off somewhere in the distance, remembering the bead of sweat and the wicked thought that had come to her.
A peal of thunder crashed outside, and lightning lit the room up briefly. She stood up, shaken out of her daydream. “Amelia Parker, this is not like you at all! You may have been swayed before by a beautiful man with sharp eyes but no longer! Now, start reading and put this wretched thing out of your mind! ‘Tis sinful!!” She forced herself down harshly into one of the armchairs by the fire and picked up a book that she’d been reading yesterday. All of her movements were strong and quick in order to keep the dangerous image from her mind.
She sighed and cleared her throat and stared at the open book, hoping the words would call to her and bring her to rights.
She lasted for about a half of an hour like this, every muscle in her body tense, fighting against remembering and forcing her brain to read and comprehend the words, the sounds of the crackling fire and the bellowing storm her company.
“So, yer quite the lover of reading, is it?” Just like the rumble of thunder outside the castle, a low voice broke into the calm and safe space of the library.
Chapter Ten
Amelia’s heart jumped and sent fire to her every vessel, causing the redness to start to rise up her neck again. Damn him!
Amelia lowered the book from in front of her eyes, and cast her gaze upon Jamie, leaning against the other end of the mantle, dressed and clean now in a fresh shirt and waistcoat, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world, a genuine smile upon his lips…perfect lips.
Realization hit her: He had asked a question. “Uh, yes. I am, quite a lover actually.” Her eyes widened, and she coughed. “Lover of reading, that is. You are lucky to have such a library.” She held up the book, a nervous giggle escaped her lips, and she coughed again.
Jamie didn’t take the bait. He sat down in the armchair on the other side of the fire and put his feet up on the ottoman. With his movements, Amelia was sent a whiff of fresh rosemary, peppermint, and clean man, making her core begin to simmer once again. Jamie said, “I confess tae enjoy a bit o’ reading, meself, even books by English authors.” He smiled.
So, he hadn’t seen her, and he wasn’t going to taunt her. A rush of relief cooled her veins, and each of her muscles let go in response. It almost made her feel dizzy, she was so happy that he hadn’t noticed. Her voice in reaction to this relief came out overly excited.
“And you like poetry too!”
He turned to her, his eyebrow lifted in question. “How do ye k
now?”
She smiled, the relief continuing to buoy her spirits. “I heard you at the clan dinner. You quoted James Thomson. I admit he’s not my favorite, but I do enjoy his work.”
“Aye? Well who is yer favorite then? Some Englishman I suppose.” He smiled, hoping she would take it as a light tease.
“Yes. Thomas Gray is my favorite. He’s not written many poems, but I have the book he’s published. It was a gift from my father.”
“I see. I’ve read a bit a Thomas Gray, but I can’t consider meself an afficionado.” The French word sounded wonderfully exotic on his Scottish tongue.
Jamie then stood to open a small cabinet next to the fire. He pulled out a bottle of wine and two cups.
“Wine, lass?” He turned to her, his eyebrow up in question again, his sudden change in disposition confusing and offputting to Amelia.
“‘Tis only half past 4 in the afternoon,” she replied.
He shut the cabinet door with his booted foot, still holding two glasses in his left hand. “Aye, but we here in the Highlands donnae like tae keep tae the restrictive ways of London England, lass. Me da used tae keep wine and whiskey in each gathering room in the winter, so each guest could partake, and stave off the bone-chilling cold.”
He sat down, pouring himself a cupful. “‘Tis yer choice if ye’d like a drink or not, of course.” He sat back in his chair, staring at the fire, sipping the wine. Amelia got a view of his profile and wondered curiously at the new face she saw. Where was the man who’d taunted and teased? She almost missed it.
Amelia felt the image of him standing before the fireplace, shirtless, with beautifully shining skin creep back into her mind, and she blurted out, “Yes! Yes, I will have some wine.”
Jamie laughed and poured her a cup and passed it to her. Amelia leaned up slightly to grab it from him, and their fingers touched for a brief moment. She closed her eyes, praying he didn’t feel the heat building up in her body.
She hoped the wine would calm her nerves and stop that annoying ache that threatened to throb endlessly. What was it?
“I’ve seen ye about the castle and the grounds, writing in a notebook. May I ask what it is ye write?” He turned those green eyes on her, looking genuinely interested.
She took a sip of wine and swallowed slowly, afraid to move under his gaze. She turned to the fire, so that she could answer intelligently.
“Well, I like to write poems. And Scotland’s landscape is so inspiring, I’ve been trying my hand at writing a few poems about it. But, they’re not quite turning out as I’d like. Even though I speak French, Latin, and German, I can’t seem to pick up the language of the land. It eludes me.”
“Ach, du sprichst Deutsch? Sehr impressiv. Wieso hast du Deutsch gelernt?” (You speak German? Very impressive. Why did you learn German?) Jamie said with a wry smile.
Amelia eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but let a smile peek out from the corners of her mouth. “None in my circle can speak it except my father. He always wanted me to learn as much as I could, he was quite modern in that respect.” Amelia took another sip of wine, feeling the tingly warmth crawl up her legs into her stomach. The nerves from earlier slowly released their throbbing tension, but the throb in her middle remained.
“Aye, ‘tis a pity that women don’t get the chances we do. I hope to see it changed in the future. Your father sounds like he was a good man.” Jamie drank his wine and looked at Amelia.
Not wanting to give away the truth of her situation, Amelia simply agreed. “Uh, yes. He was.”
She took another big gulp of the wine, loving the relaxation and confidence it gave her.
“Who was that woman? At the party? She nearly attacked you after we returned from your workroom.”
Jamie stared at her for a while, a bit of that devilish grin returning.
“She is a widow from the village. We’ve known each other a long time. Her name is Alana.”
Amelia’s brazen confidence continued. “And did you have a nightly tryst in your work room? You did say that’s what it was used for on party nights.”
Jamie laughed, a hearty, happy sound.
“Nay. We might have, but I don’t make it a habit of having trysts with guests during events where my mother is hosting.”
Amelia was confused and angered that this knowledge of him not having bedded Alana gave her a little spark of pleasure. But the wine smoothed out the pointed ends of her discomfort and she rode the wave of warmth as it made her stand and wander to the bookshelves surrounding them. Jamie stood up as well, leaning against the mantle again, watching her as she made her journey.
“And what do you like to read?” She turned to face him and let her gaze linger over the muscled arm on the mantle, threatening to burst through the shirt. He hadn’t worn a cravat, and so his shirt was open at the top, light chest hair visible.
Amelia licked her lips waiting for an answer.
* * *
God, but she was driving him wild. She didn’t realize how her brief release of anger at him during this time in the library had given her a beautiful, almost angelic glow. She was smiling, she was happy. She was incredibly intelligent. And, now she walked around the room, her ample curves creating shadows on her body from the firelight.
Was she doing it on purpose? Licking her lips in the way that made his cock start to stiffen? He kept his gaze on her as he finished his cup of wine. She did watch me, after all. Maybe she’s not still angry about the other night. Was she jealous of his former mistress? He had rejected her advances but why? Because a blond, red-lipped beauty was filling his mind.
“Jamie? I asked what you like to read.”
“Ach, yes.I..uh, well, my father always wanted me tae read as many different books as possible. So, I read science, philosophy, theology, and Latin of course. But, my favorite are adventure stories me da used to tell me: The Odyssey, Beowulf, and the like.”
The smile that his answer created on her face nearly bowled him over. He had to move. The heat of his body and the heat of his fire was creating something dangerous in him. Move, must move. He walked around the other side of the room, so that they were across from each other, and he gazed fondly at the old volumes his father so loved.
He didn’t notice Amelia walking around the room to meet him on his side.
He looked up sharply at her approach. She stood with her back against the wall, hands behind her, looking at him with her blue eyes of ice, but now they seemed molten. “My father would tell me stories as well. I love Beowulf, but I wish authors would tell stories about strong women characters. Bold women, going on adventures, pillaging and plundering, and taking what it is they desire.” She kept her gaze on him, and he watched her breasts move up and down following a steady rhythm. Was that a slight quickening of breath?
Jamie copied her movements and leaned back against the shelf, his head turned toward her, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he smiled.
“Aye, they should. ‘Tis one story I’d particularly like tae read. ‘Tis about a blond bonny lass who roams and swears in the dark hallways of an ancient castle and finds her way to the bedchamber of the devilishly handsome prince.” He smiled at her, waiting to see what she’d do next.
For a brief moment, Amelia’s eyes widened and redness spread from her chest and neck to her face. But then she smiled and pushed back off from the wall to stand before him. With surprise, Jamie stood up and uncrossed his arms, his smile gone.
Amelia said, her voice low, almost like a purr. “And what did this young lass do after she found the devilishly handsome prince?” She was so close, her chest was almost touching his.
Jamie still hadn’t recovered his composure. “I...uh...I believe she ran off down the hallway in fear for the handsome prince is dangerous, and she doesn’t want him tae come within an arm’s length. ”
“Hmm....” Amelia put her finger to her mouth. “That doesn’t quite sound like the female character I would want to read about.”
Good G
od had he ever been more surprised in his life? This woman who’d avoided him at any chance she got had turned into a bold fox pressing him up against the library wall teasing him with her eyes and her lips and her curves.
He groaned inwardly and felt his cock rise to attention, and he feared he might impale her in the stomach if she came any closer.
Amelia reached up and put her hands on his chest. She could feel the warmth through his shirt, and with the wine giving her the strength and courage, she went on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. She felt Jamie freeze, and she started to pull away, feeling the embarrassment at being thus rejected.
But as she moved to take a step back and break the kiss, she felt Jamie’s arms slide around her waist and pull her towards him. He turned his head and began to respond urgently, his mouth opening, his lips begging hers to part for him.
At the urging of his tongue, Amelia opened her mouth to his, letting a small groan escape into his mouth as his lips moved, tasting, drinking her in, as if she was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Her hands slid up his shoulders and onto his neck, holding him in place, so that she could taste more of him. He tasted like raw man, with a hint of sweet red wine.
Capturing The Highlander's Heart (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 1) Page 8
