by Tarah Scott
She was that responsive.
And she addled his wits.
Making him a self-serving blackguard - a knave with naught but drink, women, and pillaging on his mind. Alex scowled, smoothed a hand over his beard. Soon he’d be no better than Bran of Barra, the overlord of lust, and all his rutting friends.
“Are you sure you can get this horse to move?” She was watching him, doubt clouding her eyes. “I mean, can you even touch real things?”
“You wonder?” A muscle jerked in his jaw, but when he spoke, his words were smooth and measured. “Did my sword hand no’ claim a lock of your hair? Did you no’ kick your foot into my shin after I carried you from the sea cave?”
***
“I’d forgotten,” Mara admitted, heat stealing onto her cheeks.
It was hard to think when just looking at him made her breath hitch and his buttery-rich burr set off a whirl of flutters in her stomach. He was simply too gorgeous, his medieval Scottishness only making him the more irresistible.
She smoothed back her hair, hoped mind reading wasn’t one of his supernatural powers. “Then you’ll help me get back to the stables?”
He held up a hand as if swearing to his honesty. “Where’er you wish to go.”
Mara considered.
Not that she had much choice.
Already, her mare had lost interest in their exchange and was once more chomping grass. Poky as the beast was, it could well be midnight before she managed to get off the cliffs if she declined his assistance.
Still, it wouldn’t do to give in too easily. “How do I know you can ride?”
He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “I can.”
Mara patted the mare’s neck. “She doesn’t want to do anything but stop and eat,” she said, his smile making her all hot and achy. “Why should she cooperate for you?”
“For a lass who makes moon eyes at painted knights, I’d think you’d know the answer.”
Mara flushed. “Of course, I know about medieval knights. I’ve studied them.” You just have the annoying knack of robbing coherent thought from my mind.
“So you are a well read woman.” He stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers. “What did you learn about knights?”
Her heart beat a little faster. What she didn’t know, she fantasized about. “I know that chivalric heroes handled their mounts with legendary expertise.”
“So we do. What else?”
“I read about tournaments and the cost of good armor.” She wasn’t about to tell him that she knew knights were said to have been masterful lovers.
“There is more to a knight than mail and a sword,” he said, his tone hinting that he knew exactly where her thoughts were going.
That she suspected he’d be a demon in bed, his lovemaking raw and primal, deliciously earthy.
He had that look about him.
She was sure he loved oral sex. On women.
Heat snaked through her at the thought. Deep, pulsing sexual heat that pooled low in her belly, then spread through her entire body until her most female places tingled in anticipation.
She bit her lip, so aroused she didn’t dare breathe lest he guess how much he excited her. She actually hurt inside, feared she’d soon cry out if he didn’t kiss her. Or, better yet, slip his hand between her legs again, as he’d done in the sea cave. Only this time not accidentally, but rubbing her properly, until she climaxed.
She shifted on the saddle, need trembling through her. Never had she known such persistent desire. Sensations so hot and exquisite she could hardly stand it.
And just from the way he was looking at her.
How could an apparition make her feel this way? Why couldn’t he be the garden-variety ghost? Wispy and all whitish gray? At the very least a bit transparent?
Why did he have to look so real?
So melt-her-bones sexy?
And why was she allowing herself to fall for him?
“As a certain ill-fated friend often tells me, your silence speaks tomes,” he purred, his voice dangerously smooth. “So you are aware of a knight’s various skills?”
Mara gulped, knew he meant more than mastering horses and jousting. The intense look in his eyes said he might even feel the same stirring heat that she did; the powerful attraction that stretched so hotly between them. So she sat tall, every square inch of Cairn Avenue daring her to be bold.
“I suppose this is your chance to prove yourself,” she challenged him. “Show me what you can do.”
His smile turned wicked. “As you wish.”
Mara narrowed her eyes. “No funny business with the horse.”
“I’ll no’ jest with you, lass,” he agreed, closing the last few steps between them. “No’ this time.”
She hoped not. High-strung, the mare was already tossing her head and prancing at his approach.
But when he fixed the horse with his steady gaze, she stopped sidling and stood perfectly still. Sir Alexander threw Mara a quick, told-you-so look, and then began crooning words that sounded like Gaelic into the horse’s ear.
He rubbed her muzzle, smoothing gentle hands along her neck and shoulders. Large well-formed hands that looked all too real and that he moved with confident self-assurance, each soothing stroke proving his skill.
He glanced at Mara again. “Will you trust me to see you back to the stables now, Mara MacDougall?”
“No,” she blurted before caution changed her mind. “Not quite yet. I wanted to see the seal colony.”
“Then I shall take you there,” he agreed, vaulting up behind her. “I’ll make certain you enjoy the ride.”
He seized the reins, spurring the mare into a smooth canter. “Just relax,” he urged Mara, pulling her back against him.
He laughed then, tightening his arm around her as he brought down his free hand on their mount’s rump.
And then they were flying. First thundering across the boulder-strewn grass and splashing through sparkling burnlets, then sailing over ever-rising slopes and past steep, rocky-sided gorges.
Ever onward they pounded, the wind in their faces, until Mara laughed, too. Giddy with exhilaration, she held fast to his encircling arm, certain her heart would burst at any moment.
From the wild joy of the ride, and the rousing warmth of his thighs pressing so intimately against hers.
The triumph that filled her when he held her even tighter and cried out, “See what you have done to me! Made me forget you’re a bluidy MacDougall!”
***
And she had.
He was wholly under her spell.
Now that they’d reached the highest point of the promontory, he knew it for sure. It’d come to him in the brief moments he’d needed to lift her from the saddle and then watch her dash to the cliff edge to peer down at the seals.
Her delight in Scotland did something funny to a place deep inside him.
Something far more dangerous than the itch she put in his loins.
And that could only mean one thing.
She’d cursed him as thoroughly as had her villainous ancestors with their dastardly brooch. For no other reason could he imagine why he’d send a horse barreling along such precarious cliffs just so a MacDougall could peer down at a welter of stinking, barking seals and their offspring.
But he’d done that and more.
And he’d enjoyed every glorious moment.
Now they were here, at her destination, and Alex frowned at his plight. Then he frowned some more because she couldn’t see his dark mien.
How could she, sprawled on her belly on the cliff grass?
Worse, she’d positioned herself between his obligingly spread legs, to keep from slipping over the edge. At least, that’s the reason she’d given when she’d stretched out beneath him.
A siren’s trick, Alex was sure.
Not that he’d minded.
Far from it, he’d gladly opened his legs for her, even enjoyed watching as she’d wriggled her luscious body into the best position to view the seal colony at the
bottom of the steep drop-off.
Besotted fool that he was, he’d especially liked how she’d gripped his ankles as she’d inched forward to better look over the edge. A dangerous edge that reminded him of his curse, his bounden duty to guard his bed and keep it free of such as her.
His brows snapped together and he glared up at the heavens. By all the gods and their minions, had he lost his mind? Gone soft as a doddering graybeard?
Apparently he had.
Why else would he stand there like three kinds of a fool while her glorious self stretched so invitingly beneath him? Why didn’t he take advantage and have done with her when he had the chance? One flick of his foot would send her tumbling into the sea. He could be instantly rid of her.
If the fates were kind, he might not be plagued by another MacDougall for a century or two.
Peace would be his.
So why didn’t he do it?
Before he could decide, she gave a little gasp of wonder. He looked down, just in time to see her raise her hips and scoot closer to the edge. Another ploy designed to make her deliciously-rounded bottom wriggle and sway.
She was deliberately tantalizing him.
Alex choked back a groan. His manhood sprang rock-hard.
Worse, she was so close to the drop-off. Literally hanging over it, craning her neck and so absorbed in watching the cavorting seals she’d never know what happened were he to send her plunging down to meet them.
But he couldn’t.
Not when her oohs and ahhs were giving him such pleasure. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen someone so filled with awe and delight.
Well, maybe the day she’d stepped into Dimbleby’s and fallen in love with his bed.
Alex harrumphed. Every muscle in his body tensed, and frustration welled inside him. His head pounded.
Truth was, rather than having done with her, he was much more concerned with what it would be like if she fell in love with him.
Even more damning, he suspected he already knew how it would feel to love her.
Blessedly, her grip on his ankles brought more acceptable thoughts to his mind. Each time her fingers clutched tighter or even just moved, another rush of hot blood went racing straight to his loins.
What would he do if she held his cock in such a grip?
Already his breathing had turned ragged and his heart hammered so fiercely, he wondered she didn’t hear it. He’d hardened to fullest stretch, every inch of him throbbing so painfully he feared he’d soon shame himself.
A very real possibility if she dared wriggle her delectable arse even one more time.
Instead, she glanced up over her shoulder. “O-o-oh, do you see the little ones?” she cried, her joy spearing his heart.
***
Mara felt her eyes widen, spikes of awareness shooting all through her.
“Aren’t they cute?” she managed, amazed her tongue had formed anything even halfway coherent.
She should’ve known better than to look up.
Especially when she was lying between her hot Scot’s wide-spread legs!
She gulped, unable to tear her gaze from the indecently-endowed piece of manhood displayed so blatantly above her.
Thank God he wasn’t wearing a kilt.
She’d have climaxed on the spot. As it was, his tight-fitting medieval hose showed everything. And left no doubt as to what was on his mind.
And he wasn’t just hard. He was long, thick, and well-balled. Most shocking of all, his shaft was twitching.
“You’re-” she snapped her mouth shut, unable to blurt the obvious.
He already knew anyway.
Her cheeks flaming, she ducked through his legs and scrambled to her feet. Dusting the dirt off her knees, she tried not to look at the bold ridge of his arousal.
“We’ll ride back now,” he said, the strain in his voice answering her unasked question.
“Yes, I guess we should.” Mara shook back her hair, knew she must be crimson. “Thanks for bringing me up here.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the view.”
He said nothing else. Just looked at her for a long moment, and then strode for the mare, leaving her to stare after him.
And she did. Mercy, she was sure her heart had stopped beating. He knew. She’d near swooned at the sight of his gorgeous sex, and he was taunting her.
Scalding embarrassment squeezed her chest. Maybe he really could read her mind?
Well, she’d turn the tables on him.
“Oh, yes, I did enjoy the view,” she called, hurrying after him. “But I’ve seen larger.”
He stopped in his tracks. “Indeed?”
She smiled. “Yes, of course.”
He gave her one swift, scorching glance, then resumed walking.
“Larger seal colonies,” she huffed as soon as he was out of earshot.
She glared after him, finding the ease with which he swung up on the mare’s back exceedingly annoying. He looked more at home on a horse than any rodeo cowboy she’d ever seen on television. Wasn’t there anything he couldn’t do?
Sir Alexander Douglas had the devil’s own good looks, spoke with a Scottish accent, had more sex appeal in his little finger than most Hollywood stars in their entire bodies, and he had a way with horses that was nothing less than magical.
He played a mean “Highland Laddie” on the pipes and even walked through walls.
What more could a girl want?
Mara sighed. Angry or not, her heart leapt as she watched him guide the mare through several steps that looked like they’d been choreographed by London’s Royal Ballet.
He really was perfect.
But there was one thing he wasn’t: a flesh and blood man.
He was a spook. A shade.
The ghost of a medieval Scottish knight.
Mara took a deep breath and tried to fix an unimpressed look on her face. She failed miserably. Like it or not, if she’d still harbored any doubts about him, she couldn’t anymore. Not after seeing him with the mare.
He was indeed what he claimed to be.
And she was falling for him.
***
It was writ all over her.
Alex was torn between shouting in triumph and roaring in outrage. He was also a bit ashamed that he’d put on such a performance, but she’d pushed him too far. Especially with her fool comment about his man-parts.
He scowled and let the horse splash across a stream, then reined in on the other side. For sure, she hadn’t seen anyone better made. He knew how he measured against other men.
More than favorably!
“That was incredible,” she said, hurrying up to him.
Alex started and twisted round to look down at her. How had she come so close without him noticing? The answer came as quickly as the thundering of his heart.
He’d been too busy mooning over her to notice.
It wouldn’t happen again.
He’d also stop paying heed to such things as the way just her smile drove him to such distraction. Or how the sea wind played with her hair, sending its fresh, flowery scent to tease his senses.
He especially wouldn’t acknowledge the way her black breeches clung to her shapely legs. He squared his shoulders, ground his teeth against the lust surging through him. Garbed as she was, even a simpleton needed but one look to visualize the triangle of bronze curls between her thighs.
A beckoning treasure hidden only by a thin stretch of black cloth, and a temptation powerful enough to bring the strongest man to his knees.
Alex drew a tight breath, sure he’d been ensorcelled.
She had to be the devil’s own to entice a man so boldly. In his day, her witchy ways would have landed her upside down in a pot of boiling tar.
After every man within rutting distance had had his way with her.
Quickly, before the ache in his loins drove him to join their ranks, he leaned sideways and scooped her into the air, plunking her down in front of him.
“Oh!�
�� she gasped, squirming like a basket of freshly-caught eels.
“Be still,” he warned. “Lest you wish to learn of a knight’s other talents? Dinnae test me, for I’m already burning to enlighten you.”
The wiggling ceased.
Unfortunately, the throbbing at his groin didn’t.
So he dug in his spurs and sent the mare into a fast canter. Then, a swift, racing gallop. A folly he recognized at once. A grave error that slammed her luscious body hard against his own and caused her hair to fly about his face.
And that wasn’t the worst of it.
Nae, the greatest torment was the scent of dusky rose and jasmine clinging to those tresses. Where her scent had only teased him before, now her hair whipped against his cheeks and slid across his lips, each silken glide deluging him with her perfume.
Intoxicating him.
Leaving him no choice but to jerk hard on the reins. The mare reared in protest, her forelegs pawing the air. And the instant her hooves plunged back to earth, Alex swung down, sweeping his siren with him in one swift, furious motion.
“Another knightly feat,” he flashed, pulling her into his arms. “But no’ near so satisfying as this!”
He seized her face with both hands and slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her long, hard, and deep. A devouring kiss meant to scorch her to her toes. His own blood flaming, he slid his hands down over her breasts and closed his fingers on her nipples, toying and teasing until she moaned a response. She fantasized about knights and he aimed to please her.
But she stole his thunder by pressing hotly against him, clutching fast and rubbing against his groin. She opened her mouth beneath his and their kisses turned savage. Wanton joinings of tongues, sighs and breath, and so heady, so potent, his knees nearly buckled.
Never had a woman kissed him with such abandon, clinging so tight and trembling with sweet, reckless need. He pulled her even closer as the cliffs began to spin and the clouds and mist became a whirling gray blur against the blue of sea and sky.
“Mara…” He couldn’t believe he’d used her name, her MacDougall name. But she gave him such stunning bliss. Awed by his need, he splayed his fingers over the fullness of her breasts, plumping and weighing them, then flicking his thumbs back and forth over the thrusting peaks, circling the tightly ruched rounds of her nipples. He gloried in the feel of her, half feared he might die from the pleasure – if only he could!
