A whoosh of flames blazed past her head, and she thought they had landed on her as the heat washed over her skin. Leaping to get away from them, she bolted for the other side of the room. Fresh air filled her lungs, but the intake of breath still burned, and she coughed but continued to make her way into the hall.
Running for the steps, she didn’t bother to turn around to see the progress of the flames. She slipped on a lump at the bottom and braced for the impact on the hard wooden floor.
Strong, reassuring arms wrapped around her before she collided with the ground.
Alan.
Tears stung her eyes as she realized he was safe. The fear that had engulfed her as she’d seen his body fly through the window gave way to choking sobs of relief.
“Yer alive,” she managed to croak as her burned throat fought to release the words and her hand rose to cup his cheek.
“Aye.” His head leaned into her touch. “Are ye all right, kitten?”
“Aye, I just need some air.” Och, it hurt to speak.
He rushed her out into the night. Cool rain dotted her skin and made her shiver, but she welcomed the liquid as it washed the smoke and heat of the flames and the blood from her flesh. Guiding her toward the stable, he didn’t slow until they were a safe distance from the crackling old wood of the building.
As they came to a halt, his hand slid down her arm, and his body stiffened. Holding her out at arm’s length, he twisted her from side to side in a frantic appraisal then said, “I have to go back in.”
“Nae. Are ye mad?” Her fire-fevered skin froze, and dread clenched at her heart.
“The innkeeper and his wife are still in there.” He clasped onto the sides of her head as he dipped to kiss her soundly before continuing. “Stay here.”
She nodded and fought back the urge to latch onto him and not allow him to return to the inferno.
She yelled to his back, “I love ye. Be careful.”
His retreating form shrank as he ran back toward the burning inn, leaving her, cold, wet, alone, and afraid he wouldn’t make it back out.
Moments later, the front of the building collapsed.
…
Alan bounded back into the burning building much lighter, knowing Kirstie was safe. He was determined the couple wouldn’t meet the same fate as his mother.
As he reached the steps, the smell of burning wood and smoke invaded his nostrils and made him shudder, but he paused only long enough to drag the body from the bottom. He couldn’t risk it being in the way when he escorted the innkeepers down the stairs.
Ominous clouds of smoke filled the open spaces and the flickering reds and oranges on the ceiling. Alan’s heart hammered, but he beat back the fear and continued for the second floor to the room labeled private, knowing time wasn’t on his side. He was shocked at how fast the flames had engulfed the wall at the top of the landing where Kirstie had apparently left the door ajar in her escape.
Reaching the top, he scrunched against the other side and ran the length of the short hall. Luckily, the door was still shut to the room where the flames had started, but the heat pouring off was hellish and expelled eerie screeching and popping noises.
At the door, he pounded and yelled, “Get up.” Pounding again, “Ye must get up!”
An answer did not come quick enough, so he backed a couple steps and ran for the door to ram it. His whole body seemed to shake with the impact, and his shoulder screamed at the brutal use of it, but the door remained shut. The hall was filling with flames and would become impassable in seconds.
He retreated to try the assault again. This time as he braced for impact and expected to hit the hard wood, the door swung in, and he flew through the air to land on the floor. The innkeeper stood over him, gazing into the hall.
Jumping up, Alan slammed the door shut just as the terrible sound of boards collapsing and shuddering in the wake of the inferno’s path shook the whole building. Darkness immersed the room in its shroud as the floor tilted forward and he almost lost his footing again; the man standing only in his shirt slammed against the wall.
“We have to get ye and yer wife out. The whole inn is about to collapse.”
The man ran for another room, just as his wife came around the corner wrapped in a large plaid and holding a small candle that lit her frightened face.
“Is there another way out?”
“Aye, this way.” The innkeeper grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her toward the back of their apartment. Alan followed the couple as they ran, but it was hard to see anything else in the dim light.
They rushed down a set of steps that led to the back of the inn. Relief washed over him when he realized they wouldn’t have to climb out a window. He’d seen enough of those tonight.
He vaguely recognized a kitchen as they rushed to a door that let out to the back of the inn. He took a moment to let the cleansing rain wash over him as his eyes continued to adjust to the absence of light. Sparing a glance for the innkeepers, he saw the man had his arm around his wife as they watched their livelihood burning to the ground.
“I have to get to Kirstie,” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran around the burning structure.
The flames lit the night on this side of the building, and he had no trouble seeing her form crumpled to her knees with her head in her hands, not looking at the building in front of her. She must have thought he was still inside.
He knelt in front of her and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. Startled, she pulled back, but then her arms flew around him, nearly tackling him to the ground.
“I-I thought…”
He knew what she couldn’t voice, the fear that he was gone, the same torturous grip and anguish that had been wrapped around his own heart and stolen his breath from the moment he’d learned Hamish had taken her away.
“Shh,” he soothed as she cried into his chest, and he let his hand run down her slick hair as his other hand kept her pinned to him with the need to keep her near. “Dinnae cry. I’m all right.”
He tilted her head up so that her gaze met his, and he finally felt whole again, like God had not forsaken him and that his efforts and prayers to save her and all the Camerons had been fruitful.
His mouth covered her lips as he savored the velvety smoothness of the soft flesh and let himself go. He didn’t hold back; all the years he’d denied himself her touch had been torture, but no more, they belonged together. Tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers, he lost himself in her warmth and the love, trust, and need he could feel in her response. He was barely aware of the wreckage burning so close. She’d always been able to make him forget the world around him.
This… This, her touch, her adoration was what he wanted to experience every day for the rest of his life. Knowing now he wasn’t the monster his father had been, he would prove to Lachlan that he was the best match for Kirstie and he would happily spend eternity keeping her happy. She deserved that.
He let the waves of desire drag him under, let all the insecurities wash away with the receding tide of doubts and fears. Almost losing her today had nearly killed him, and he drank her in now because he’d thought he might never get the chance again.
A thunderous bang exploded, pulling him from the sweet caress, but he kept his arms locked around her. Sparing a quick glance over his shoulder toward the ruins, he became aware of the heat radiating out to where they stood at a safe distance away. Burning beams of the second floor had collapsed in on the first and lay heaped in a fiery mass that lit the yard. His eyes were drawn to Hamish’s body still on the ground near where they’d landed. A sudden urge to protect Kirstie and keep the view from her eyes had him averting his gaze quickly so he didn’t draw hers to the sight.
When he turned back to her, he sighed with relief that he’d gotten to her in time. She was safe.
Still wrapped in his e
mbrace, a tremble wracked her and his gaze skimmed down to take in her soaked appearance. A dripping dress that left the top of her chest and shoulders exposed clung to her curves. She had no plaid to protect her from the chill of the night or the rain. He cursed himself for not getting her out of the rain immediately.
Unwinding his arms from around her, he took her hand and guided her to the stables a safe distance away from the inferno behind them.
Once inside, the musty smell of wet hay mixed with leather and manure, but he ignored the assault on his senses as he twirled her to face him.
“Look at me, kitten. I’m sorry I couldnae get here sooner. Are ye sure ye arenae hurt?”
“I’ll be bruised, but I’ll be all right.”
He placed a finger to her lips and traced them tenderly. Her rigid frame relaxed, and as her gaze softened, he wrapped his free arm back around her waist to draw her near. She smelled of smoke and rain, and despite or maybe because of the reminder of the events of the day, he’d never wanted to hold her more than he did right now.
Not knowing how to explain the relief and joy he felt inside, he lowered his lips to hers and closed his mouth in a kiss meant to persuade her that she was all that mattered to him. His tongue darted into her mouth and swirled around hers, seeking and giving the reassurance that this was to be theirs, that the unspoken dreams he’d kept locked away in a secret part of his heart he’d never acknowledged to anyone, even attempted to keep hidden from himself. They would always be together, and he would never deny that need again.
His father might have guided every decision he’d made in the past, but now Alan would follow his own heart, not the illusions of a man he’d never really known. He was his own person, and Kirstie was the one who had unlocked the man who had hidden from his past.
His hand slid up her side and shoulder to thread into her hair as his fingers twined and tangled into the soft wet strands and held on as if his life depended on it. Trying to impart all the passion and longing and love that coursed through his veins with just the mention of her name, he poured himself into that embrace. She was his world, and now that he’d given into his desire for her, he could never go back to Kentillie without her by his side, so he let her feel his devotion in his kiss, that she was everything to him.
He only knew he had succeeded when she deepened the embrace as her hands closed around his sides and her fingers dug into his ribs to draw him closer. The slight feminine moan that escaped beckoned for him to release the primal fierce desire he felt to claim every inch of her body and assure himself she was unharmed.
Trailing a hand down to her ass, he nuzzled her to his swollen cock and relished the feel of the way they fit. Shifting his hips to rub against the intimate part of her that he wanted to claim, he groaned with the need that had come on fast and fierce.
He’d forgotten the world around them until he heard a throat clear and felt a hand on his shoulder.
Chapter Seventeen
Kirstie silently studied the roaring flames when a prone figure on the ground caught her gaze. As Alan explained the day’s events to the innkeepers, she realized she’d not even had a chance to ask him what had happened and check him for any injuries.
A small woman with vacant, sad eyes, the innkeeper’s wife came up beside her and wrapped a blanket around her trembling shoulders. The cold from the rain, cooling her heated skin, had reached all the way to her bones. The young woman’s belly was swollen, and her hand absently rubbed it as they watched the men talk.
The lass returned to take her husband’s hand and lean into him as his protective gaze washed over her, and Alan continued, “Do ye have anywhere to stay until we can get some men down here to help ye rebuild?”
He’d committed Cameron men to help the couple. She liked that his heart was so large and that he knew her brother well enough that he’d want the same thing and not fear his wrath at the promise of support.
“Aye, my wife’s father lives a short distance away. Ye should come with us to get some rest.”
“Nae, we will wait here for The Cameron. He willnae be long. He’ll want to ken his sister is safe. I will send someone to let ye ken when we can rebuild for ye.”
“For now, I need to get my wife somewhere warm and dry. I dinnae wish to make the babe come early.”
As the couple rode off, Kirstie shrugged out of the blanket and ran for the cold cleansing drops still careening from the heavens, but he caught her hand before she made it to the door. “What are ye doing?” He followed her.
“I have to wash the smell of the smoke off.” She tugged at his hand, but he didn’t let go. Smiling, he shuffled his feet and followed her from the stable.
She angled her head up to the liquid and let it run down her face, washing away all the smells that had clung to her today. The sack she’d been wrapped in, Hamish’s horrid breath, and the smoke. Breathing in the night air, she twirled in circles.
As the cool drops did their work, they also melted away the hurt that had kept her heart in a vise, the fear that had left her blood cold, and the anger that had almost boiled over. Coming to a stop facing Alan, who eyed the still burning flames, she put both hands on his cheeks and was surprised to see in the dim light that his gaze was filled with a happiness she hadn’t seen glow in their depths since before she’d left Kentillie.
“My brothers are safe?”
“Aye. I left before the battle was done, but they had it in hand.” His eyes clouded over and his mouth opened, but he shut it just as quickly.
“What? Something’s wrong.” She shivered and moved in to wrap her arms around him.
“Henry didnae make it.”
“Blair. Has anyone told her?”
“No’ before I left. When I kenned ye were with Hamish and he was the one who planned it all, I got away as soon as I was certain Lachlan and Malcolm were safe.”
“Someone has to tell her.”
“Finlay saw it.” There seemed to be an edge to his words sounding almost like anger instead of sorrow, but he kept going. “I’m certain he’ll tell her.”
He scooped her up in his arms, and she squeaked in surprise. Laughing, he carried her back to the stable. Being cradled in his arms heated her cold skin and made her think of the afternoon they had spent in the inn at Edinburgh and all the things he had made her feel.
Walking down the short aisle, he peered into each space they passed. It was dark in the confines of the building, but she was able to make out several horses in the stable. The animals looked up as they passed, and she recognized Alan’s and one she thought to be Hamish’s; the others must have belonged to the men who had traveled with the tyrant whose body moldered outside in the rain. Only two stalls were empty—the one vacated by the couple’s horse and one that was apparently used for only storing equipment.
Alan set her on her feet, and she watched his back as he fumbled around in the near dark. Turning around, he had a mass of something in his arms, but she couldn’t tell what it was. “Hold these,” he said, and she held out her hands, surprised when soft dry and clean smelling plaids tickled her skin.
Alan took the top one and shook it before spreading it out on what could have been a heap of hay or rushes on the ground. Taking one more, he laid it on top of the other then turned to face her.
Without taking his gaze from her, he took the last blanket and tossed it carelessly on the others and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in as if he’d thought he’d never see her again. Resting her chin on his shoulder and leaning into the embrace, she whispered into his neck. “Do ye still think of me as a sister?”
“I never did. That was a lie I told myself to keep me from doing this.” He drew her flush to his hard chest as his mouth covered hers, gentle and seeking, but at the same time burning with an urgency that screamed out to the primitive part of her and awoke the desire hidden within.
“I want to be th
e one ye see walking through yer door at night, the one ye go to bed with at night, the one who fathers yer babes. Ye dinnae ken how hard it’s been all these years for me no’ to come after ye.”
Chills spread down her spine and her cool skin heated as he whispered into her ear, all the while his fingers working at the laces on the back of her gown.
“Ye should have.”
His lips trailed down, and his mouth brushed her neck. Fire exploded in her core, and her body unconsciously arched into his as the sensations assailed her, and her dress was loosened and fell from her shoulders to gather at the elbows.
Surprising her, he drew back and met her gaze. She couldn’t see well but could hear the need and conviction behind the words as his deep, husky voice sent emotions spiraling straight to the soul of the girl who had always loved this man. “I’m here now. Marry me, kitten. I dinnae want to go another day without ye by my side.”
Her heart fluttered and flipped as her breath caught, and at the same time, her eyes stung and watered. It was what she had always desired, but how come she couldn’t speak?
“I dinnae ken if it’s possible.”
He stretched back farther and tensed as he studied her with a panicked glaze.
“I could no’ bare it if Lachlan sent ye away. I’m happy anywhere I can be with my animals, but Kentillie is your home.”
His shoulders relaxing, a grin spread across his face. “Leave yer brother to me. I think we will work things out.”
His warm hand stroked her rain soaked cheek. “When we have Lachlan’s blessing, will ye be my wife?”
“Aye, Alan. ’Tis all I’ve ever wanted.”
His mouth crashed down on hers, and another word wasn’t said until after they were spent and sated, tangled in each other’s arms beneath the blankets that smelled of lavender and reminded her of home and dreams that could come true.
…
Highland Temptation Page 22
