Knight of the Highlander

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Knight of the Highlander Page 3

by Kristin Vayden


  After a few minutes, he paused beside a large oak and set Arywnn down gently and pulled her tightly against him. Immediately her scent overwhelmed his senses once more. Pulling his focus away from her and onto the silent forest, he waited, listened and searched for their pursuers as his gaze scanned the trees. The forest was quiet and after a few long moments to assure their safety, he took a deep breath and released Arywnn.

  "Are we safe?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

  "Yes, for now," he spoke again with his crisp English tones, hoping they disguised his voice enough for her to be unable to associate it with her clan's blacksmith.

  "Why did ye do that?" she asked.

  He watched her shadow shift in the moonlight as she tilted her head to glance up at him. He moved to the side so that the moon would be behind him, keeping his face in total darkness. The movement had the opposite effect on Arywnn's features, for the moonlight illuminated her expressions with surprising clarity.

  "Save a damsel in distress? I'm a Knight, tis' what we do." He bowed slightly, proud of his playful ruse.

  "Yer a Knight?" Her voice was full of doubt as were the moonlit features of her face.

  "Tonight I am," Colin whispered.

  "Then I thank ye, sir Knight." She offered a slight curtsey that was awkward as she forgot about her injured foot and lost her balance. Reaching to catch her, he grasped her arm and lifted her slightly so that she once again stood.

  "My, ye are the savin' type aren't ye?" Her voice was teasing. Colin was thankful she hadn't pressed him for information, yet.

  "We must get you back to your home miss…?" he trailed off, not wanting her to suspect that he knew her; knew her well.

  "Arywnn," she completed.

  "What a beautiful name for a lovely lass," he complimented as he bowed crisply and reached out for her hand. With a smile at the irony of the situation, he placed a warm kiss to her chilled palm. Feeling a bit devilish, he caressed her fingers with his own before releasing them.

  "And, and, what be yer name Sir Knight?" Arywnn spoke with a hitch to her voice, the universal sound of a woman pleasantly surprised.

  "Ah, I have many names, but you may call me Knight. After all, that is how I'm sure you will remember me in your dreams tonight." He couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. Thankfully she couldn't see it. It was liberating to boldly flirt, kiss her hand, and hold her close. If only he could steal a kiss…

  "So, Sir Knight—" she began before he interrupted.

  "Knight, only Knight my lovely Arywnn," he murmured as he took a step closer to her, raising a gloved finger to trace a line from her brow down her cheek and over her dainty jaw line. His blood roared as she shivered in response; a shiver that he hoped was in delight rather than fear.

  "And how would ye know if I'm lovely? Tis dark. You could be trying to romance an ugly old woman fer all ye ken," she retorted.

  "Ah, but my dear, you see the moonlight is perfectly illuminating your beautiful features. I know that it is no old crone that I attempt to seduce."

  "Seduce? I am not a serving wench from the tavern. Ye mistake my gratitude," Her tone was sharp as she spoke. With wary eyes she began to back away from him, limping.

  Angry at his own poor choice of words, Colin took a step back as well to alleviate her unnecessary fears.

  "Nay, I will not seduce you like that sweet Arywnn," he spoke gently.

  "What type of seduction then, I warn ye, ye will find the end of my father's claymore should you harm me, " she threatened.

  "Only the seduction of your heart fair Arywnn," he spoke softly, taking a small step toward her, gauging her reaction.

  "My heart? Whatever fer?" She watched his movements with a wary eye, but made no move to back further away.

  "Why not? Are you not worthy? Why shouldn't a man pursue you relentlessly? Win your affections?" He took another step forward.

  "Of course I'm worthy," she responded quickly but he saw the uncertainty in her eyes.

  "Then you have my reason. Your heart is a worthy challenge, is it not?" he spoke in a low tone, only a few inches away from her face. Her eyes searched the darkness for any insight into his features, but he knew he was clothed completely in night's shadow.

  "Am I a prize to be won then?" Her eyes had taken on a flinty glare as she stiffened her posture.

  "All worthy endeavors must be won," he challenged.

  "Never given, hmm?" she retorted back.

  "Then you're offering me your heart, without any effort on my part?" he whispered back.

  Arywnn gasped, clearly realizing her folly.

  "I mean nothing of the sort! For all I ken, yer a lecherous old coot that wanders the night for young lasses tae seduce!" she spoke with an angry tone.

  "Ah, but my lady, I am not a lecherous old coot as you put it." Debating for a moment, he decided that since he was in the dark she wouldn't be able to see the color of his hair or beard so he took another small risk hoping it wouldn't return to plague him.

  Reaching down he grasped her hand with firm fingers and pulled it up to caress his unkempt hair that he usually pulled back when working at the forge. Her hands moved without his help as she caressed the smooth texture of it down to his broad shoulders. Her fingers lingered as she traced the outline of his bunched muscles over his shoulder and down his arm. He shuddered with restrained pleasure.

  "Do I feel old and feeble milady?" His voice was a thick and gravely whisper; fighting the desire within him her touch had ignited.

  "No, but ye might be ugly," she whispered, and he grasped her other hand and used it to caress his lips, chin and nose through the fabric of the scarf shrouding his face.

  "Why the scarf?" she asked as her hands lovingly caressed his features, tracing the length of his nose.

  "That is my secret — a secret I will not share even with the prettiest of ladies," he responded with a calm he didn't feel as he removed her hand from his face so that she wouldn't be able to memorize his features. He only wanted her to feel him, to want him in any way.

  "Must I kiss you to prove my youth and virility?" Colin teased, reaching up to caress her cheek.

  "No," she responded quickly, taking another step back leaving Colin amazed to hear the reluctance in her voice. Had his attentions perhaps captured her interest? Feeling bold he decided to press his luck, if only for the night. Tomorrow's sunshine would eliminate any magic born this night, but any chance at tasting her kiss was worth the risk.

  "But a small kiss, in exchange for saving your life," he whispered as he took a step closer.

  "For saving my life? Ye did nothing of the sort." She gave a huff. "Saved me from a mess, tae be sure, but not my life." She took another step back and came up short as her small frame bumped into a large oak tree. With a hesitant expression she watched as he took another step closer and braced his hands on either side of her.

  "Ah, but a small kiss? Please? It wouldn't be a proper rescue if the Knight doesn't receive a kiss from the damsel," he asked as he leaned slightly in, lowering his head to rub his nose along her jaw line. Moving slowly he waited for either a slap or sigh of surrender. A hitch of her breathing sounded as he caressed her arm with his hand, and moved his nose along her jaw.

  "A wee one, tis only fair I suppose," she spoke with a husky tone that made Colin's body tighten with desire. With careful control, he leaned back to look into her eyes. With deft movements he shifted the scarf, freeing his mouth to taste her.

  "Close your eyes?" he asked in a husky whisper that betrayed his arousal.

  "Why?" she asked, a moment before she obeyed.

  "This is your first kiss then?" he teased as his eyes roamed over her features.

  "What does that have tae do with closin' my eyes?" she asked.

  "If you're to be kissed properly, you must then close your eyes. It is your first kiss, is it not?" Colin gently teased as he smiled to himself, thrilled to be her first.

  "Maybe 'tis, maybe not," she responded lowly, slightly
trembling as he leaned forward and exhaled as his lips pressed a warm kiss to the nape of her neck below her ear.

  "Well I will just pretend I am the first, the one given the honor to christen your soft lips," he spoke in a whisper as he closed his eyes, and lost himself as he placed the softest of kisses to her warm mouth. She didn't make any move to kiss him in return, telling him she was indeed as innocent as he had hoped. When he leaned back he waited, wondering if he should pursue her kiss further. Although his desire demanded he take her sweet lips within his own and ravage them, his heart didn't want to take something she wouldn't willingly give.

  "Was—" She started then paused. "Was that it then?" She asked.

  "We're you wanting more?" Colin whispered against her lips.

  "I suppose I was expectin'…" She paused again and Colin waited, hoping she wanted another taste of him as desperately as he wanted her.

  "Expecting?" he encouraged.

  "A bit more of a kiss," she whispered.

  With a sigh she opened her eyes.

  "Milady, you mustn't open your eyes," Colin reminded her as he reached up and covered them with his hand. After a moment, he reached up with his other hand and removed his scarf. His heartbeat roared in his ears with desire. Quickly he used the scarf to blindfold her, tying the ends securely behind her head.

  "Why are you—?" she began to question, but was silenced with an ardent kiss placed on her lips.

  Colin hadn't wanted to explain, had only wanted to taste her, feel her body pressed against his as their lips met in his heart's passion. Oh, she didn't know it was him, the one who had watched her from the beginning and who had given his heart away unwillingly long ago to the red-haired beauty. So, without further delay he had leaned down and captivated her willing lips.

  Gently at first, he pressed against her softness until he felt her begin to press against his body with her own. Not needing further encouragement, he opened his mouth slightly and pulled her lower lip into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue.

  She shivered in response.

  With tentative movements, he felt her hands reach up and encircle his neck, fisting his hair and drawing him closer. With a suppressed growl he teased her upper and lower lip with his tongue, and flicked it against her teeth when she opened her mouth slightly to gasp in surprise. Taking full advantage he dipped in further, teasing her, branding her. His blood boiled as he felt her hesitate. Releasing his strong hold on the tree as he had struggled to control his passion, he encircled her waist and lost himself in the feeling of her body flush against his. He felt her stiffen under his grasp, and he eased himself away from her gently, against all his body was demanding. Breaking the seal of their kiss, he leaned back to gaze at her swollen lips.

  "Was that more of what you expected?" he asked as he breathed heavily.

  "Aye, I believe 'twas," she responded with equally labored breath.

  "That was by far the sweetest reward I've had, lovely Arywnn. Though there is much regret, I must return you to your keep before the magic wears out this night. I fear that having tasted heaven nothing could make the night sweeter, and I'll not risk ruining such a perfect moment. Come."

  Chapter Four

  Arywnn berated herself yet again for her weakness. So close! She had been the Englishman's captive, if only for a moment. Yet she did not glean one bit of helpful information that would allow her to attain her freedom; at least whatever small measure she could afford.

  Sighing, she laid her head back against the feather mattress and closed her eyes. What had possessed her to allow him the liberty of kissing her? Let alone cause her to kiss him back! Oh, she would never admit it, but was indeed her first kiss, and it went far beyond what she had anticipated. His warm lips had seared themselves into her memory and even now, after he had led her safely and secretly home, she couldn't sleep. Each time she closed her eyes she saw his broad shadow and heard his sharp English accent, both stirring her blood and reminding her that she was playing a dangerous game.

  What she continued to wonder was why he had even taken the time to rescue her, for indeed he did rescue her. Rian was not known for his gentle nature, and the exploits of his more carnal nature were well known. She shuddered to think of what he would have done had he discovered her spying. Even her position as daughter of the Clan Laird wouldn't have rescued her from his wrath. Forcing herself to move on from the sobering thought, she again tried to understand why the Englishman would take pity on her.

  It wasn't as if he could see her and want to save her for himself. No, he saved her before he knew if she were young or old, ugly or beautiful to gaze upon. What other reason could he have? Perhaps he was truly a Knight? Maybe he was in the right place at the right time, and was not the traitor she assumed him to be. After all, if there were a traitor in their midst, wouldn't he be familiar with her? Or he could have been feigning ignorance.

  Arywnn's head hurt with all the possibilities. And in the end, none of it mattered. What did matter was that she was no closer to uncovering the mystery behind the English traitor. Even as she thought again about her mission, she felt the warm sensation of desire swirl in her belly.

  The Englishman could kiss.

  With a grin tugging at the corner of her lips, she began dreaming of a faceless man with a crisp foreign accent.

  ****

  Colin lay awake as he rolled over on his pallet. Each time he closed his eyes, the vision of Arywnn's swollen lips haunted him. He had justified his actions, hoping that if he tasted her kiss, caressed her soft skin, that it would be enough to hold the fires of his overwhelming desire for her at bay, at least for a while. The opposite was true. Heaven help him should he see her tomorrow and have to disregard the way her lips turned up into a slight grin when she spoke. With a growl he rose and wrapped the Chattan tartan around his waist. Forcing himself to focus on pleating the plaid as he tucked it under his leather belt, he achieved a full minute without thinking of her.

  But no longer.

  Immediately he was assaulted with the full memory of her warm body and soft lips melting with his. He closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together, but even on the breeze was the subtle scent of rosemary, the very scent clinging to Arywnn last night. Half mad with desire and hopelessness, he headed to the forge.

  He needed to beat the desire from him, burn it from his flesh. Then perhaps he would finish early before Arywnn came the stables for her afternoon ride, saving himself from the acute torture of watching her, knowing what he sampled last night would never be his to keep.

  ****

  The day had passed with an exaggerated slow pace that made Arywnn feel as if she were walking through cold mud. Nothing seemed to go smoothly, from cook being surly and unwilling to remake her mother's porridge, to her father yelling orders to each person who had the misfortune of being in the range of his voice. With a longsuffering sigh, Arywnn headed out to the stables to find escape on the back of Garten.

  As she walked, she heard the incessant pounding of Colin in the smithy. Her heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of his face in the firelight of the forge. For a moment she allowed herself to listen to the powerful pounding of the hammer as it molded the hot metal into submission.

  When it stopped, she glanced from his straining shoulders to his face, gasping when she discovered his intense gaze. Unable to glance away, she watched as his gaze burned, causing a great heat to swirl in her belly. With hesitant steps, she walked forward.

  She glanced to his full lips and wondered if he kissed as well as the Englishman. Immediately her face heated with a blush as she mentally scolded herself for being so wanton. His expression was unreadable, yet as he seemed to notice her flaming blush his eyes turned suspicious. Before she could react, the expression was gone.

  ****

  "Good day tae ye Miss Arywnn," he spoke in his gravely brogue. More than anything, he wished for the freedom to speak true, letting her know that it was he who had kissed her so passionately the night b
efore. Reminding himself of the need to remain unknown, he rather spoke in the brogue she was accustomed to hearing from her village blacksmith.

  So lost was he in his own tormented world, he almost missed the longing gaze she cast him. When his flesh prickled with awareness, he glanced up expecting and preparing for anyone but Arywnn. When her green eyes darted down to his lips, she parted hers.

  It was almost his undoing.

  With resolute force, he flexed his leg muscles to anchor himself to the spot. It was the only action that would prevent him from racing across the distance and kissing her once again. But as her face blushed crimson and she cast him a sultry glance, he became concerned that perhaps he wasn't as careful as he had thought and maybe, maybe she suspected him. As quickly as he thought it, he dismissed it as he saw her eyes take on a gentle edge that assured him that she was blissfully unaware of his duplicity. When she took a step closer, he unlocked his ridged posture and stepped forward as well.

  She entered the darkened forge with tentative steps, and he took the opportunity to study her features with detailed care. She carried a slightly reddish hue at the base of her chin and neck, no doubt from his beard and passionate assault from the previous night. Though he was thankful it was hardly noticeable, a satisfied pride filled his chest. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his bearded chin.

  "G'day tae ye, Miss Arywnn," Colin spoke politely, careful to keep his tone light.

  "G'day tae you as well Colin," she offered with a slight blush. Colin watched her expression. Could it be that she was attracted to him, or was she remembering the rogue from the night before? A smug grin tugged at his lips, and she cast him a confused expression.

  "Out fer yer noontime ride then?" he asked, forcing his features into his usual inscrutable expression.

 

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