“Thanks,” Alexander said. He looked down into her eyes, again feeling as if his soul was drowning there. He forced himself to look away as Brogan tugged his arm.
“Sir?” he whispered. “We have to go.”
“Run,” Alexander agreed. “Go where she said.”
“Sir? Are you coming?”
“Yes, yes,” he said, impatient. “Now, go.”
Brogan ran. Alexander turned to Addie. He rested his hands on her shoulders.
“Adelberta McMurrie,” he said softly. “I cannae thank ye enough. You saved me twice.”
“Nae, Alexander,” she said.
His heart flipped as she used his name. Then he stared at her. He was Alec Brune! He’d said it.
“How do ye ken who I am?” he whispered stiffly.
He heard her grin, her lips moving over white teeth. “You told me,” she said.
“I did?”
At that moment, a cry rang out. “There they are! There! Two of them. By the wall!”
Alexander whipped round. “Come on,” he said. “We must hurry!”
“I don’t think I can keep up…” she began.
“Fine.”
He lifted her up and, with her in his arms, cradled against his chest, he started to run.
* * *
Addie almost screamed as she was lifted off her feet. Strong arms held her. She could feel the stiff muscles of Alexander’s chest pressed to her ear. He was running across the courtyard, his steps following the contour of the wall. The fire was hissing and roaring, sparks flying, flames yellow as they licked up towards the sky.
“There! Look!”
Addie stifled a cry of horror as she saw silhouettes run towards them, the light glinting on armor and mail shirts. She closed her eyes and tensed up, trying to make herself weigh as little as possible. She could hear Alexander’s heavy breathing and was frightened for him.
If he falls, we’ll both be killed. Or taken prisoner. I don’t want either of us to die.
She clung to his shoulder, listened to the strain of his lungs as he ran, and tried to remember to breathe.
They ran around the wall towards the gate. It was open, she noticed, Brogan having slipped out before them.
“Head them off!” somebody screamed. Addie yelled in fear and anger.
“No!”
Alexander, hearing her, put on a burst of speed. She clung to his shoulder and prayed and tried not to look as they ran, headlong, for the gap.
They passed through.
Out in the forest, the night was wild and alive. The wind sighed in pine and oak trees, the earth smelled of rain, and loam.
Alexander kept on running. She clung to him.
“Sir!”
She heard Brogan run beside them, and risked opening her eyes to look at him. He was white in the face, those blue eyes huge and troubled. She shut her eyes again.
“Shut up and run,” Alexander gasped.
“Put me down,” she said, as she jolted and jostled on his shoulder. “Leave me here.”
He didn’t answer, but she felt his grip tighten around her. Jostled and bruised by the grasp of his strong forearms and the blistering, jolting unevenness of the run, she closed her eyes and did her best simply to hang on.
They ran through the woods.
“Can’t…run…anymore,” Brogan puffed.
Alexander, Addie noticed, had slowed, too. He was running with swift, even steps. All the same, though, she could feel he was getting tired. He stopped.
The silence of the forest was broken by the sound of panting. Addie slid out of his arms and stood. Then, exhausted, she collapsed onto the loam. She heard the slow rise and fall of Alexander’s breathing, and Brogan’s panting gasps.
They all stayed where they were. The wind sighed in the trees, the only sound close to them. Further away, Addie could just hear the cries and commands at the castle.
“Why aren’t they following?” Brogan gasped.
“They will,” Alexander said quietly. “They’re just getting horses and weapons.”
Addie closed her eyes. Here they were, hiding just off the path in a midnight forest. They had just set a lord’s property on fire, given themselves away as outlaws, and fled. If the men saw them, no matter whether they knew her or not, they were dead.
And me possibly even worse, for treachery.
She didn’t mention it, but a swift coldness descended over her. What were they going to do? She had never felt so desperate, ever before.
“Whitley cave,” Brogan said.
“What?” Alexander and Addie looked at him.
“There’s a cave in these hills, somewhere,” Brogan elaborated. “It’s chalk cliffs, and the stream has worn a hole near itself. If we wade along it, we’ll find the place. We’ll hide there.”
“The dogs – if they have any to track – will lose our scent,” Addie observed, feeling a sudden hope.
She and Brogan looked at Alexander.
Slowly, he nodded. “It’s our strongest chance,” he agreed. “Where is this cave?”
“We need to follow the stream,” Brogan said. “Which is…there, or somewhere.” He pointed vaguely left and forward.
Alexander snorted, but Addie held up a hand. “Listen,” she said.
They all went still. Faintly – so much fainter than the madness drifting up from the castle, through the woods, there was a silvery music – just audible above the sighing wind.
“The stream,” Alexander nodded.
They reached the cave after an hour of walking.
Addie, exhausted, cried out with joy as Brogan pointed it out.
“There, sir?” he was joyous. “See? The white cliffs?”
“Yes, Brogan,” Alexander said. He sounded exhausted beyond endurance. Addie felt her heart tighten with care. “Well done, lad.”
“Thanks, sir!”
Addie could hear the wonder in the lad’s voice at the praise, and understood why. Grim and silent, Alexander was not the sort to praise without good merit. She followed as the two men walked up the slope, her legs numb with cold from the stream.
“I’ll start a fire,” Alexander said raggedly. He had collapsed at the rear of the cave, his eyes already closing.
“No,” Addie held out a hand, resting it on his arm. “Let me. You’re wearied.”
“I am not,” he started, one eye opening fractionally to give her a meaningful glare.
“Let me,” Brogan interrupted.
When neither of them protested, they heard him stand and head out into the woods.
Addie leaned back on the wall, too weary even for thought. She could feel a warm presence beside her and, as her nerves settled, she became very aware of how close Alexander was. She could hear the steady rise and fall of his breathing. She could smell the damp scent of his cloak, the musky scent of him just below it.
She shifted against his strong arm, and felt his fingers reach out and grip hers. She didn’t make a sound. Her heart started to thud in her chest, slow and steady.
“Well, you’re here now, lass.”
Addie closed her eyes as his voice, resonant and warm, tugged at her heart. She felt strangely calmed by it, even as it twisted in her vitals with a fevered tingle.
“I’m here,” she said.
“Stuck out in the woods with an outlaw.” His voice was inscrutable.
Addie twisted sideways, to gauge his meaning. His face was still. The thin lips were set firm, his long, straight nose cast in dark silhouette. His eyes were shut, lashes – unusually long – touching the wide lids.
“I’m not scared,” she said.
She heard him grunt. It was a chuckle, she realized, as he turned to face her. His eye opened, then shut.
“You sure?” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Huh.”
She wasn’t sure what that exclamation was supposed to mean but, a moment later, he turned to her. His arm whispered around her shoulders, drawing her against him with
a firmness she couldn’t resist.
Wordless, his lips fastened to hers.
Gasping, wordless, she let herself be drawn into his kiss. His lips pressed and probed hers, and she parted hers below his questing tongue, feeling her body tense up as he tasted her. She closed her eyes and felt his tongue touch hers, twisting round it in a tickling, wonderful way.
“Addie,” he murmured, as, gasping, they leaned back from each other. Her eyes were closed, and she clawed blindly at his shoulder, even as his hand explored her back.
“Yes?” she whispered.
“Addie,” he whispered back. “Will you stay?”
Wordlessly, knowing with every part of her being what he was asking, what he meant, she nodded.
“Aye,” she whispered. “I will stay.”
She heard him shift, giving a low chuckle of surprise, and satisfaction. It kindled her body.
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”
Somewhere just beyond the cave mouth, someone had lit a fire, but neither of them was interested in going out to it. They were, right now, interested only in each other.
BY THE FIRELIGHT
Addie gasped as Alexander’s hand moved over her body in the darkness. Firm and warm, his touch made her entire body shudder.
“Lass,” he murmured, a throaty growl. “Lass. You’re lovely.”
She closed her eyes, feeling his praise kindle warmth inside her. She lay still, not sure what was going to come next.
I know nothing of this.
She lay on her side, while Alexander’s touch drifted gently over her, exploring her waist, her belly, her breasts. She felt him gently squeeze her and the touch was so wonderful she almost cried aloud.
“Easy, lass,” he whispered, throaty. “I didnae mean tae hurt ye?”
“Ye didn’t,” she whispered back.
“Good.”
Again, his voice made her tingle everywhere. She heard him shift on the stone floor of the cave and then her breath almost stopped. He was lying beside her.
He propped himself on an elbow, and looked down into her eyes. He was smiling, that brown gaze filled with an uncertain wonder that touched her deeply.
“Lass, you are bonny.”
His voice was tight with emotion. Addie smiled. Gently, hesitantly, she reached up and touched his face. He jumped, then his grin deepened as she stroked his temple.
“You are handsome.”
He reached for her hand and kissed her palm. She felt the touch everywhere at once, a sweet tingle that sparked everywhere in her body. He smiled.
“You are kind,” he said.
“I’m not.”
That made them both laugh. He edged closer. His body pressed to hers. He drew her against him, and she became aware of just how strong and warm his body was, even as she realized that she wanted to hold him tighter, and closer…
Her arms drew him to her and his lips descended on hers. It felt like a kind of madness, this slow desire. She pushed her body against his, feeling a throbbing ache start to grow inside her, and a need to feel something she didn’t understand.
He was stroking her back, murmuring nonsense into her hair. His arms were tight around her and his tongue lapped her mouth.
Abruptly, gasping, he drew back. He met her gaze, his own eyes slightly wild.
“Lass,” he whispered. “Ye are sure, are ye..?”
She closed her eyes and nodded, breathlessly. She knew it was crazy, but she also knew that if she didn’t follow where this wild, insistent fire was leading, she would regret it forever. She was here, with him, in a cave, surrounded by their enemy. They could be dead tomorrow, or worse.
“Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes.”
“Good.”
He murmured it and covered her lip with his.
She felt his hands stroke down her back, searching, insistent. She realized dimly what he was doing as he unclasped the topmost button of her dress. She gasped.
His hands were busy now, wild, clawing at the buttons, dragging at the dress, moving it down to her waist.
She sighed and shifted, lifting her body so that he dragged it cleanly down, stopping at her knees. Then, with a little cry, he stared at her.
“You’re bonny,” he said.
She felt herself flush, but had little time to contemplate it before his hands were busy, tugging at the laces of her under dress. She felt him clutch her breasts with tight fingers and gasped, loving the way his touch felt. Wriggling, she escaped the confines of the dress as he pulled it down to her waist.
Gasping, he bent lower, covering her breasts with his lips. She closed her eyes, as the tugging sensation of his mouth on that most secret skin ignited her.
She was shaking, then, as he stroked her waist and, lower still, reaching for the parting of her thighs. As his hand drifted between, she cried aloud.
“Easy, lass,” he whispered, his hand feeling her there. The sensation was so powerful she had to bite her lip to stop groaning.
He was stroking her, feeling her, and she could hear him gasping, as if he, too, were aroused. She opened her eyes and saw his face twisted with pleasure.
“You are dressed,” she said.
Grinning, he opened one eye.
“Yes,” he observed, “I reckon, aye.”
He reached for his own buttons and, while she lay on the floor of the cave, watching with staring eyes, he unbuttoned his tunic and drew it over his head, then untied his trews. Naked, his body was a landscape of tendons. She stared at it. She thought she had never seen anything so fine.
A sculpted chest and broad shoulders were offset with a narrow waist, legs long and corded with muscle. His skin glowed in the dark, tight and firm. He was smiling, that handsome face warm.
“Alexander,” she breathed.
He grinned and knelt before her. She found her gaze drawn to that place below his waist where something stood proud that she had never seen. She found she wasn’t afraid, so much as fascinated. He caught her stare, and frowned.
“You’re no’ afeared?”
“No,” she murmured. She felt her heart start to pound. She had heard some descriptions of what men and women got up to, but had always dismissed them as fantastical. Now, dim memories mixed with the strange feelings in her body, and she knew she was desperate to try.
“Alexander,” she murmured.
He lay down beside her and drew her into his arms. His mouth descended on hers and she felt sweetly as if her body was melting into his. His hands stroked her, dragging at her waist, holding her as if he wished to never let go.
She felt that protrusion push against her thighs and, tenderly, he pushed her onto her back, resting on his cloak which he’d laid there earlier. She saw him kneel up and look down at her. His eyes were deeply tender, resting on her face.
“You’ve no’ done this…?”
“No,” she managed.
What if he laughs at me? Thinks I’m strange, for being my age and having never done this?
“Och, lass,” he murmured. “Och, lass.”
He sounded moved, and touched, and gentle. She felt his hands grip her shoulders, shifting her on the cloak. Then they moved to her thighs again, and, shakily, slipped between.
He was gasping as he gently fingered her and then, to her utter surprise, lowered his body between her legs. She felt a slow insistent pressure, then all her senses disappeared as he entered her.
It felt amazing. She had thought it would feel wrong, or there would be some great pain involved – so she had heard, at least – but, as he entered her, it felt as if her body was melting, like she was floating in a sea of warmed syrup.
She felt his maleness withdraw, then slam in again, harder this time. It rubbed inside her in a way that made her gasp.
She could barely contain her noises of amazement, of excitement, as he repeated the motion, faster and faster.
She closed her eyes and held him tight and, free, unfettered, began to move with him in the wild exciting dance that was le
ading to unknown places.
He was pushing and grunting and she felt a strange tingle inside her start to grow, and gnaw, and spread…she tried to contain it, but the more he pushed and grunted, the more insistent it became, until, crying out, something happened inside.
She gasped as it felt as if her body melted, as if she was floating, as if she was falling. She closed her eyes and lay back, instantly relaxed.
He was still moving inside her, and she could hear his breath catching, his sighs becoming groans and gasps. Then he, too, cried out.
Collapsing, he lay in her arms.
She wrapped her arms about him and held him close.
She closed her eyes and felt a bruised sweetness inside her and knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
A NEW CHOICE
Addie rolled over onto her side. She felt bruised and a little cold. She opened her eyes, and remembered where she was. Light seeped through the entrance of the cave, bright and golden. She could hear water rushing past, and the sound of birdsong.
She smiled, pressing back against the body that lay behind her. She could feel warm flesh against her buttock and she tingled all over, remembering the enormity of what had happened the previous night. Her body felt bruised in odd places, but filled with a drowsy peace. She was happy.
“Alexander,” she whispered, shifting so she could see his face.
He was lying on his side, his brown eyes closed. The long, dark lashes were locked shut, resting on his cheeks. He sighed in his sleep, and she tensed, not wanting to wake him. He looked so lovely, lying here asleep.
Her heart ached as if it, too, was bruised, as she lay and studied him. She wished she could lie here forever, savor every sweet moment, feel his touch again.
If I do, what will become of me?
She couldn’t stay here. She knew that, even though it broke her heart. He was a man with a deadly mission, and she was a woman with no weapon skills, who could by now be carrying his child.
Her cheeks flushed with the thought, a mix of happiness and sorrow tightening like a fist inside her. If she was pregnant, what could she do? She’d have to bear the child alone and pray somebody in the castle would help her.
The Highlander On The Run (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 1) Page 8
