The Black Wolf's Captive (The Highland Wolf Series Book 1)

by Tessa Murran

  ‘Hamish it’s good to see you and grown so tall since last we met,’ she said, sweeping up to him.

  ‘That’s because I eat a prodigious amount Ailsa. My poor father cannot keep up with my appetites,’ he declared laughing.

  Ailsa could not resist teasing him. ‘If gossip is to be believed it would seem that your appetites are not confined to food,’ she said saucily sweeping her eyes over several young ladies who were looking longingly in his direction.

  ‘Come now Ailsa, you must give me leave to enjoy myself. The ladies take delight in my company and it would be selfish of me to deny them their pleasures.’

  ‘As humble as ever I see.’

  ‘Are you jealous Ailsa?’ he retorted, a satisfied grin lighting up his face.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I have no interest in your indiscretions but you’d best hope your father remains ignorant of them.’

  ‘My father is ignorant of most things these days and has ever felt me beneath his notice.’ Ailsa was taken aback by the note of bitterness in his voice and it must have shown in her face for Hamish recovered himself quickly.

  ‘Why are you not married off to some scoundrel already Ailsa? You are far and away the most striking girl in the room. I should make it my mission to seduce you,’ he said, bumping his shoulder playfully against hers.

  ‘Hamish!’

  ‘As you would have me guilty of seducing every other woman here, then I must give you the same honour, else you may feel slighted by my overlooking you.’ He smirked at her and she knew he was teasing.

  ‘You talk such nonsense, Hamish. You should cease your prattle and continue your conquests hereabouts.’

  ‘Why should I, when I have the most alluring woman in the room all to myself? You can serve to make the others jealous and ignite their ardour for me.’

  ‘You are a terrible wastrel.’

  ‘Aye, and you are becoming more dangerously beautiful than ever.’

  Ailsa ignored his compliment as the whine of the musicians tuning their instruments filled the room. The dancing was about to start and that awful man would be looking for her. Well, she had absolutely no intention of submitting to Duncan Campbell’s wishes and turned coquettishly to Hamish. ‘I do love to dance don’t you Hamish?’

  ‘You never have before, in fact, you’ve often professed your hatred of dancing.’

  She could see her tormentor making his way through the crowd towards her as the musicians commenced a lively jig.

  ‘People can change can’t they?’

  ‘Well I for one am not about to miss the opportunity to dance with the bonniest girl in the room,’ said Hamish taking her by the hand and sweeping her out past Duncan and into the middle of the throng. Ailsa looked back with satisfaction at her opponent’s stony face, a smug smile playing on her lips. There, she had got the best of him.

  Ailsa spent the rest of the evening studiously ignoring Duncan Campbell, dancing with an array of eager suitors. It cost her dear as her ankle was sore but it was worth the pain just to confound him. He did not approach her again but she could not stop him staring at her which he did relentlessly as the evening wore on. His dark eyes seemed to bore into her and turn her cheeks to fire.

  She flirted outrageously with all her suitors, to the delight of her mother whose hopes of soon marrying her off soared as the evening progressed. Ailsa was only vaguely aware of the effect she had on them, of the way the blaze of candles and firelight lit up her flushed face and turned her hair to dark fire, of her ready smile which brought her lively intelligent face to life, of her lithe, nimble body as it whirled over the dance floor. They were as smitten as she was indifferent.

  Hamish sought her out entreating her to drink some more whisky. ‘Have it. It’ll keep your strength up.’

  ‘No Hamish, it’s making my head spin.’

  “Then you are no Highlander Ailsa.’

  He lifted the whisky out of her reach and laughing, she grabbed it from his outstretched hand and swallowed it in one go. Hamish clapped loudly in appreciation, smiling down at her. He had often encouraged her in her recklessness. The other men cheered noisily and Ailsa called for another.

  As the evening wore on the whisky only served to make her muddle-headed and did nothing to salve the pain of her sore ankle and beaten hindquarters. The exhilaration of victory over Duncan Campbell had worn off and she found herself in a circle of young men eager to get her attention.

  Hamish took her hand and whispered in her ear. ‘Let us get away from all these fawning idiots Ailsa. We can slip outside and hide as we did when we were brats.’

  Ailsa smiled warmly up into his blue eyes. His face was very close to hers and she noticed for the first time that his ginger lashes had blonde tips. Giddy and flushed she suddenly needed a way out of this clamour and attention.

  She happened to glance across the room and locked eyes with the smouldering gaze of Duncan Campbell. That handsome face had hardened into anger and she felt a shudder of dread go through her. It was as if the whole hall had grown dark and chill in spite of the fire and the merriment. Helpless in the pull of his scrutiny, all Ailsa could do was just stare back at him. There was something invasive about his look as if he could see right into her soul. Suddenly the spell was broken as her friends came rushing up to her, squealing with delight about the dances they had had with the many handsome young men in the hall.

  When Ailsa looked back she could not see him and she excused herself from Hamish and the others. Her head ached and she had to get some air and calm the tumult inside her. If she was honest the vain part of her enjoyed Duncan’s admiration whilst the saner side resented his intrusion into her thoughts and feelings. The man excited and terrified her in equal measure. There had been judgement in that black stare and she had the awful feeling she had fallen in his estimation.

  She pushed through the throng and out of the hall. It was a short walk along gloomy corridors and up a winding stone staircase to the battlements. This was her favourite part of the castle, a quiet corner soaring high over the village, isolated and secretive. Several torches gave off a flickering light. The storm had blown through leaving behind a clear night sky ablaze with stars and soft moonlight. She tore loose her hair from its tight coils and let it flow like a silken river down her back. The spring wind brushed its loose curls caressingly across her face and neck and she relaxed a little. She could breathe again, think again and be free again. There was no need to go back to the hall now, instead, she would slink quietly off to bed and burrow down under the blankets to be alone with her thoughts.

  Footsteps on the walkway behind her had her swirling round in alarm.

  ‘Enjoying the moonlight lass?’ he said quietly. ‘Or were you just bored with all the admiration?’ There was an edge to Duncan Campbell’s voice.

  “I needed some air, I was hot,’ she blurted out, alarmed by his sudden proximity.

  “Yes, you do look a little hot from your exertions. Shall I keep you company?’

  ‘I don’t want company. I came up here to be alone.’

  ‘And waste all your beauty on the moon and stars? I can appreciate it much more and besides, there’s a hall full of drunken young Scots below and I wouldn’t want any of your most ardent suitors to stagger up here in search of you.’

  ‘They are not my suitors.’

  “Do they know that?’ he replied with a hint of sarcasm. When she remained silent he continued. ‘I’d venture one or two of them have been emboldened enough by your charms to try to seduce you. God knows they have had enough encouragement and you have had enough whisky to fell a horse’.

  ‘How would you know that?’

  ‘I have been making a study of you all night.’

  Ailsa glowered at him and said nothing.

  “Come, you need not worry. I’ll not mention our little encounter to your father. I’ll bet my best horse he’s ignorant of it. ‘Twas reckless to venture out alone in these times but I admire your spirit.’

  ‘M
y family is already aware of my riding out alone so you cannot hold that over my head.’

  ‘Are they aware of my men and I escorting you back home?’

  ‘Yes of course,’ retorted Ailsa, lying through her teeth.

  ‘It’s strange then that your father did not extend his thanks to me this evening. We have conversed long enough for him to bring it up and courtesy would compel him to do so surely? Strange, also, that you would feel compelled to dress in a servant’s clothes to get beyond the castle unseen. That was the plan, wasn’t it, running away?

  ‘It is not your concern, not your business.’ Ailsa bit her lip in agitation. If her father ever did find out both she and Duncan Campbell would be in a deal of trouble. For her to be alone in the company of rough young men would scandalise and enrage him, not to mention give grist to the gossip mill around the castle. It would shame her family and it would seem that Duncan Campbell was fully aware of this fact.

  ‘Don’t worry yourself Ailsa, my men didn’t recognise you as the same muddy girl we encountered earlier. They didn’t get quite as close to you as I did.’ He winked at her and Ailsa felt embarrassed by his implication. ‘And whatever you were running from rest assured I can keep your secret. So now we can be friends.’

  ‘I have no need of friends like you.’

  ‘If not friends, then what?’ he teased, grinning.

  How confidently he stood before her, so arrogant and full of himself. ‘I have made it clear that I have no wish to know you in any way so why are you bothering me? The other men would not have dared to follow me up here.’

  ‘Then they have neither the courage nor the wits to deserve your company’.

  ‘Oh, and you do I suppose.’

  ‘Yes, I flatter myself that I do. I rescued you in the woods and provided safe escort home.’

  ‘Rescued me!’ Ailsa sputtered, ‘I was quite capable of looking after myself.’

  ‘As you were arse deep in mud when I encountered you, appearances would seem to suggest otherwise.’

  ‘I was fine until you startled my horse and I didn’t need your so-called gallantry…or your vulgar propositions.’

  ‘I apologise for that. I was not aware that I was addressing Laird MacLeod’s daughter.’

  ‘No but as I appeared to you a mere servant girl you thought it your right to force yourself on me.’

  He leaned toward her, his handsome face inches from hers and the look in his black eyes made her knees soften and her breath come tight in her throat. ‘Not unless you wanted me to,’ he whispered. ‘Now I’ve promised to keep your little secret from your family as I am sure they would not approve of you running about the area unprotected.’ He moved closer to her trapping her in the corner of the battlements which had been her sanctuary. ‘You made me a promise and instead, you reject me. A man less sure of himself might take offence at that but I am prepared to forgive you. Come back to the hall. All I ask for my silence is that you let me have that dance.’

  ‘Let you have your own way. Let you take what you want.’

  ‘Aye, and when I set my mind to something I get it. I have resolved on having you dance with me so you may as well give in and do as I say.’

  Ailsa, gathering her courage, decided attack was the best form of defence. ‘Look here, I don’t like you and the insolent way you look at me. You are coarse and vulgar and you have no right to tell me what to do. I don’t like your arrogance and conceit and the way you obviously expect every woman you meet to fall at your feet and faint with longing every time you honour her with your attention. I have absolutely no wish to dance with you and I never shall.’

  ‘Then why were your eyes seeking me out all night? Don’t lie and tell me I am wrong for we both know it’s true.’

  He was right. She had been staring at him all night and not just because she was trying to avoid him. Mortified by the truth of this, Ailsa rushed past him to go but he grabbed her arm firmly and pulled her back. His grip was like iron and though she twisted and turned she could not free herself.

  ‘Calm down lass.’

  ‘How dare you. Let go of me. You may have spent the morning pawing me but you are not permitted to do it here,’ she said breathlessly.

  Ailsa stared up at his face, inches from hers, realising she was in danger though whether it was from him or her own feelings she knew not which. He was devastatingly handsome and in the moonlight, his eyes looked black as pitch. The shadows cast by the flickering torches hardened the planes of his face and gave him a predatory look as if the devil himself had hold of her. Ailsa could just make out a thick scar on his top lip which somehow enhanced the beauty of his full sensuous mouth. She couldn’t take her gaze from it as she ceased her struggles and softened in his arms.

  Duncan knew he should let her go but he couldn’t. There was some kind of a connection between them and he was sure she felt it too. He had felt the dark stirrings of jealousy as he had watched her flirt in the hall and he hadn’t liked it one bit.

  And by God was she something to behold with the sheen of her lovely hair falling against creamy breasts as they swelled against the bodice of her dress, a full mouth begging to be kissed and stunning eyes alight with indignation. He ached, he burned, desire for her ate away at his sense of honour. Duncan tried to control himself as he hardened under his kilt and then, mistaking her fixation on his mouth for an invitation, he pulled her quickly towards him and brought his lips to hers. Kissing her was like burying his face in flowers and for a moment he was lost in the velvet smoothness of her warm lips, the delicacy of the gentle curve of her waist almost completely enclosed in his hands, and the utter sweetness of her.

  Trapped in his unwelcome embrace Ailsa was overwhelmed by his hands and mouth on her. She had never been kissed and shocked by the alarming sensations it was arousing in her and because she was unsure of what to do she let him hold her in his embrace for a moment. He felt hard and unyielding as if his body were made of stone.

  Despite his size and strength, his kiss was surprisingly gentle, his mouth warm, moist and insistent as it slid over hers. She tasted whisky and smelled wood smoke in his hair and something else, an earthy, warm maleness. Feeling a rising need and a sort of reckless curiosity she found herself clinging to him and almost without thinking pressed her mouth softly back against his. He responded by deepening his kiss, his tongue gently invading her mouth. Ailsa felt a quickening feeling between her legs and clutched at his shoulders greedily. He moaned with pleasure and buried one hand in her hair, drawing her closer to him with the other. He was kissing her hungrily now and she responded by clinging to him, all caution lost.

  Ailsa was jolted out of her surrender by a hardness pressing up against her and suddenly she realised what she was doing was wrong and wanton and sinful. She was horrified by such obvious proof of his male arousal and by the betrayal of her own body.

  Duncan had lost himself in the moment so much so that he didn’t realise she was rejecting him until he was pushed away and treated to another ringing slap across the face with far more force than he could have imagined from such a small thing. His frustrated desire got the better of him as he took a step towards her.

  ‘You need to stop doing that or next time I’ll slap you back,’ he threatened in a voice of quiet fury.

  ‘Get off me you brute. How dare you touch me.’

  ‘You seemed to enjoy it lass and you certainly invited it with your behaviour in the hall tonight. Better me than some other young buck who wouldn’t have stopped for a slap. You kissed me back and a damned good job of it you did too.’ Though he had to admit she had a point. He hadn’t exactly behaved like a gentleman and he should not have forced himself on her. Need had overcome discretion and Ailsa was, after all, the daughter of his host.

  She was looking down at her shoes now, turning her face away. Thick dark eyelashes and downcast eyes gave a show of modesty but Duncan was good at reading people and was pretty sure she used them to get what she wanted. There had been fire in that
kiss and she had wanted it as much as he, of that he was sure.

  She found her voice. ‘You are an ignorant barbarian and no gentleman,’ she said bitterly.

  “I’ll own I’m a barbarian but not ignorant, not about women at any rate and I know a shameless flirt when I see one. You think you can dangle your beauty in front of a man and then reject him when he takes the bait. Lead a man on and he will follow lass … and he will expect a prize at the end of the chase.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You know full well what I mean. You have spent all evening throwing your charms at the feet of every man in that hall. It’s common knowledge that you are angling for a husband.’

  ‘I am not.’

  ‘When I found you today you were riding out unchaperoned and half dressed! You play a dangerous game Ailsa, taunting men as you do. It is not fair and it is not ladylike.’

  She looked shocked by his rebuke, it had been too harsh. She was after all quite young and perhaps had no idea as yet of her effect on men, though her behaviour in the hall had certainly given him reason to think she did as she had played the consummate, well-practised flirt. He thought he saw tears well up in her eyes but the cynic in him made him think they could be conjured at will.

  ‘Let me go back to the hall…please,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Of course, I’ll not trouble you again,’ he said stiffly. ‘Ailsa I meant you no harm. It was a kiss that is all and it would not have gone further.’

  She rushed away from him.

  ‘Lass, I’m sorry,’ he called out. ‘Forgive me.’ But she did not look back.

  Ailsa spent a sleepless night and then woke late, nursing a whisky headache and wounded pride. Recalling her behaviour from the night before, she found it wanting. She had somehow managed to live up to Duncan Campbell’s impression of her as some ale house slut who gave herself away to anyone. She had let a man kiss her and worse still, enjoyed it. Oh, the shame was too much to bear. For all her boldness Ailsa was innocent of such things and growing up, she had never let the castle boys come anywhere near here. But then the castle boys didn’t look and act like Duncan Campbell.