Looking disgruntled, Neacal gave a brief bow, then extended his elbow to her. Though sad she had to disappoint him, she took his arm and again relished the solid feel of his muscles.
They descended the hillside, Dunn trotting in front. When they reached the horse, Neacal lifted her onto the pillion cushion behind the saddle, then mounted himself. She could not believe how strong he was. He'd effortlessly lifted her as if she weighed no more than a child.
"Hold on well, lass," he murmured, glancing back at her.
She did not even mind him calling her lass. In fact, she enjoyed it, for it made her feel several years younger, as she did before she'd married. Like a girl instead of a woman in her twenties. She slid both hands around his lean waist, trying not to let her fingers linger on his firm, rippled muscles.
With the gait of the horse, his hard body moved against hers, doing insane things to her. It had been so long, she'd forgotten how wonderful a man's body could feel against her. It was something that defied explanation. Why should she care what he felt like?
Maybe because he had kissed her twice.
Why would he do that? She knew he must find her attractive, but how could he think her more appealing than the bonny young girls who had come to potentially marry him? She had seen them, and some of them were stunning. Mayhap because he wasn't interested in marriage, but instead a mere physical liaison. She could not become someone's lover, even a most gorgeous chief. Heat consumed her whole body at the thought.
***
Neacal could hardly believe how the light touch of Anna's hands at his waist, holding on while they rode, aroused him until he was near insane with it. If she but moved her hand a wee bit south, she might encounter more than she bargained for.
Muttering a curse beneath his breath, he thought back about the young ladies who had come as bride candidates. Not one of them sparked his interest as Anna did. In fact, he could hardly remember any of their faces. They were just girls… most likely girls who were terrified of him. And he didn't care. He didn't want to calm any of their fears. He didn't plan to go near them.
But with Anna, 'twas a different story. She did not fear him, and 'haps she halfway trusted him. At least, physically she did, but she still would not reveal her secrets. He would get the whole story out of her, one way or another. It might take a lot of time, which he didn't mind at all. He wanted to spend more time alone with her. That was why he hadn't forced her back to the castle.
The tavern in Acharacle popped into his mind. The Red Stag had a couple of small rooms over it, for rental. Damnation. He could think of naught but carrying her up the stairs to a private chamber. But he couldn't do that. She was a respectable woman.
Still, the kiss against the standing stone would not leave his thoughts. He had been entranced… transported to a realm where only sensation and Anna reigned. He could've happily stayed there forever, exploring every inch of her. But that was impossible—he muttered another curse—or was it? The elders wanted him to get married. Why couldn't he marry Anna? If she would have him.
He knew why he shouldn't marry her. His bride was supposed to bring an abundance of soldiers or wealth to the MacDonald clan. Anna could not do that. At least, he didn't think she could. She obviously had no money or clan or she wouldn't be a traveling minstrel. If she was a wealthy widow, she would be tucked away somewhere in a manor house with many servants waiting on her. She would not need to sing for a living. The elders would never approve of Anna as a wife for him, but what did he care? He'd been a rebel for most of his life. Why stop now?
Anna could bring something to his life he'd never expected… happiness. Though he should not even think of happiness, for he didn't deserve it, he couldn't help himself. Once he'd experienced the joy of her presence, he found he was addicted to it.
Anna's fingers pressed lightly against his stomach, completely distracting him, bringing sensations of what her soft, gentle hands would feel like running all over him. Stroking. Caressing.
Saints!
He breathed deeply and tried to dispel the excitement and lust rampaging through his veins. He had not been so keenly interested in a woman in years, if ever. And now he would marry her… if she was willing. Because of her eager kisses, he thought she would be.
Maili had married the man she chose. Neacal could've said nay and forced her to marry some old and powerful chief who wanted to be an ally, but why should he force his beloved sister to live a miserable life? He wouldn't do it to her, so why would he do it to himself? If he had to sacrifice all for the clan, 'haps being chief wasn't his destiny.
When they reached the outskirts of the village, full dark had fallen but the moon shone brightly. The torches and glow from the windows seemed welcoming. Neacal would rent two rooms for the night at the tavern. He would talk to the proprietor about allowing her to stay here for a few days, until Neacal figured out why she should wish to leave Bearach. Surely, it had something to do with the clans who were visiting. Once he'd sent them on their way, he would come back here and retrieve Anna.
In front of the tavern, he dismounted, then helped her down.
"Wait here with Dunn while I speak with the proprietor," Neacal said.
"Very well," she said, blushing and looking highly uncomfortable.
"Is aught amiss?"
"Nay." She shook her head but would not meet his gaze. Instead, she glanced around at the village.
She needed someone to protect her, someone she could rely on. Something deep within him clawed upward toward the light, grasping, yearning to be that man. His stomach knotting, he shoved the greedy sensation away and tried to appear normal.
"I'll be right back," he told her, then strode into the Red Stag Tavern and glanced around the near empty room. 'Twas late and most people had gone home. The owner, Korbin MacDonald, stood behind the bar.
"Chief MacDonald," the stocky man greeted with a friendly smile, then came forward. His brownish-gray hair and beard were a bit longer than the last time Neacal had seen him. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"
Neacal shook his hand. "I'm helping a young woman. Could we rent both of your rooms for the night?"
"So happens I only have one room left, but you're welcome to it free of charge." The man winked.
Damnation, he thought Neacal wanted to entertain Anna… which, he was ashamed to realize, wasn't far from the truth. But he couldn't take advantage of her. "I'll be happy to pay for it."
"Nay, I insist. 'Tis a gift for our new chief."
"I appreciate it, but the young woman, Anna Douglas, will need to stay here for several days, perhaps a sennight or two. I'll be glad to pay."
"Well, then, the first two nights are on me." Korbin glanced toward the entrance, his eyes widening.
Neacal turned to find Anna approaching, her cowl lowered, revealing her lustrous blond hair. He muttered a curse beneath his breath. He'd wanted her to stay outside until he had things arranged.
"I'll sing in exchange for room and board," Anna said.
"Sing?" Korbin asked. "You're a minstrel, then?"
"Indeed, I am."
"She and her friends have been entertaining us at Bearach Castle for a while," Neacal said.
"Ah." Korbin raised his brows, giving Neacal a devilish look.
Damn the man. Could he not get his mind out of the drainage ditch?
"There is no need for you to sing," Neacal told Anna. "I'll cover your room and board."
She shook her head, her stubborn gaze meeting his. "I insist on supporting myself."
Refusing to argue with her here, he turned to Korbin. "Anyway, I need for you to watch out for her and protect her while she's here. As you can see, she's a bonny lass and men tend to want to take advantage of her. See that doesn't happen and I'll pay you well."
"As you wish, chief." Korbin bowed.
Anna's face was the blush-pink color of rose petals while her lips reminded him of ripe strawberries. He had a keen craving for her mouth.
"Have you
a horse you need to stable?" Korbin asked.
"Indeed. I'll go get my belongings first."
"Nonsense. I'll send my son. Please, have a seat at the bar." Korbin stuck his head into the back room. "William."
A lad in his late teens or early twenties appeared—a younger version of Korbin—with dark hair and thin, short whiskers. "Aye." His gaze slid past Neacal and focused on Anna with great interest.
Damnation, she was too beautiful by far. Such a woman could not travel alone. She was sure to be accosted at every turn by young lads, graybeards and every male in between.
"This is the new Chief MacDonald from Bearach. Chief, my second son, William."
Finally focusing on Neacal, the young man bowed. "I'm glad to meet you, m'laird."
"A pleasure." Neacal shook his hand.
"Retrieve his things from his horse, then feed and stable it for him," Korbin instructed.
"I also have my wolfhound, Dunn, outside," Neacal said. "Can you feed him as well, and give him a place to sleep in the stables near my horse?"
"Indeed." William hastened away.
When Korbin asked Neacal and Anna if they wanted supper, both declined for they'd eaten earlier.
"Well then, I'll show you to your room, Mistress Douglas. I would send my wife but she's injured. Tripped and sprained her ankle. Hasn't been able to walk since."
"Oh, I hope she recovers quickly," Anna said.
While Korbin carried the key and led the way up the stairs, Neacal took a seat at the bar, watching Anna. He wanted to follow but he couldn't. 'Twould not be acceptable at all.
William brought his bedroll, bow and arrows inside and placed them nearby.
"I thank you." Neacal gave him a silver coin.
The lad, looking pleased, rushed outside.
A few minutes later, Korbin returned and poured a pint of ale for Neacal. "I started a fire in the hearth for her. I'm sorry I don't have a second room for you, chief. A family traveling through took the other room. But there is a pallet on the floor of Mistress Douglas' room, or you can sleep here in the common room. I would give you my own chamber in the back but my wife has been in bed for two days. My oldest son, his wife and five wee bairns occupy the cottage out back."
"'Tis all right," Neacal said. "I have my bed roll. I'll sleep here in the common room. I'm no stranger to sleeping on a floor." Neacal took a deep drink of the ale, thinking of Anna. "The lass might want some refreshment."
"Indeed. I'll take her some spiced wine. 'Twill help her sleep, I vow."
"I thank you."
The man prepared a jug of wine and a goblet.
"Korbin!" A woman screeched from the back room.
He sighed loudly. "'Tis my wife."
"Go. See to her. I'll take the wine to Mistress Douglas."
"Much obliged, chief." Korbin disappeared into the back room. "What is it now, Ellie?" he grumbled.
Neacal picked up the small wine tray and headed up the steps. He feared Anna might already be undressed and in bed. Or was it hope that he felt? Whatever it was, his heart rate sped up.
You must be a gentleman, he told himself just before he knocked.
A few seconds later, the door opened and Anna peered out with wide green eyes. She was still fully dressed and had only removed her cloak. He was not certain whether he was relieved or disappointed.
Damnation. Stop being such a rogue!
"Would you care for some refreshment?" he asked. "'Tis spiced wine."
"Oh. I thank you." She opened the door and stepped back, surprising him.
Hell. Should he enter and face the most intense temptation of his life? Or stand here like a green lad?
A red flush covered her face. "I'm sorry, m'laird. I'm not thinking." She reached for the tray.
He bypassed her and entered the room. "Don't be sorry." He set the tray on the small table, uncorked the wine and poured a generous helping into the goblet. "Are you certain you wouldn't like a small meal? Korbin must have something left from supper."
"Nay, I'm not hungry, but I thank you." She closed the door and stepped forward. "You must have some wine, too."
After a quick perusal of the chamber, he saw no other drinking vessels. "Nay. I've already had ale." He handed her the goblet.
She slowly lifted it and took a sip. "Mmm." She licked her lips. "'Tis delicious and heavily spiced."
He glanced away toward the low-burning fire in the tiny hearth but the image of her licking her lips would not leave his mind. Damnation, he should exit with all haste, but he sensed she didn't wish him to. Of a certainty, he didn't want to go. Instead, he thirsted for a taste of the wine on her lips.
"I don't mind if you try a sip," she said, offering the goblet. Although the look in her eyes was innocent, a spark of boldness lurked there, perhaps even a coy flirtation.
He stared at her luscious rosy lips, which lured and tormented him, then he forced himself to drop his gaze to the wine. Deciding 'twould be more sensible to taste the wine from the goblet rather than from her lips, he took the drinking vessel from her and swallowed a generous sip. The spicy-sweet flavor was seductive and he longed even more to taste it upon her lips. Arousal surged through him at the thought.
"Aye, 'tis a fine vintage." He handed the wine back to her, then paced to the window and looked out into the torch-lit dimness. All appeared quiet and peaceful, but what if someone decided to break into her room? He had nowhere else to sleep this night, except the common room, and he needed to protect her.
He turned, forcing his gaze to the pallet near the fireplace, rather than the bed. "Do you mind if I sleep here on the floor, in front of the door to guard you?"
Her face blanched. "Why? Is it not safe?"
"I have no inkling. Korbin said a family occupied the other room. Hopefully they are good, honest folk."
"Do you not have a room?"
"Nay, this is the only one available."
She gasped. "I didn't know that. You must take this room. I insist."
"Nay. Don't be ridiculous. I have my bedroll. I could stay downstairs in the common room, but I would sleep better knowing you're protected."
"Well then…" She glanced around. "You should take the bed and I'll sleep on that pallet by the fireplace."
He shook his head, refusing to argue the point further. If she didn't hush, they would both be getting no sleep in the bed after he silenced her with a kiss.
A kiss. Hell. He should not have imagined such an indulgence. The memory of when he'd kissed her at the stones… the warm wetness of her mouth intoxicated him. But he didn't wish to merely seduce her. His soul had somehow become tangled up with hers, enmeshed. Without her, he would be as stark as an oak stub without its limbs, leaves or acorns.
He wanted to marry her. The sharp truth of it sliced through his awareness, cutting away the needless clutter. Never in his life had he even considered marrying anyone, but to imagine not having this amazing woman as his wife was inconceivable. Somehow she had become as vital to him as the air he breathed. Her beautiful light pulled his soul out of the dark abyss.
"Anna." On impulse, he turned.
"Aye?" She observed him with questioning eyes.
He tried to steady his hands as he took the goblet from her and placed it on the table, then led her to the chair. "Please, have a seat."
"Very well. I hope you'll sit, too."
He didn't. He knelt before her. God help him. He hoped he could do this right.
Alarm reflected in her wide eyes. "What are you doing?"
He took her hand, so small and delicate. He stroked her soft palm with his thumb. "Anna." He stared into her lovely green eyes… so startled and confused. He felt the same way. A moment of hesitation struck him and he dropped his gaze. He was too damaged, mind and body, for someone as perfect as her. Why on earth would she want him? He was a chief, he reasoned. He could provide for her and protect her. He would cherish her all the days of his life; that should count for something.
"What is it?" she wh
ispered, closing her fingers around his.
He lifted his gaze and saw his whole world in her eyes. His future… and suddenly he knew without her he would have no future. "Will you be my wife?"
Chapter Eight
Anna's breath rushed out. She swayed, then shook her head. "What? Surely, I misunderstood."
Neacal grasped hold of both her forearms, lest she topple from the chair. An abrupt ache struck his gut. What if she refused? "You didn't misunderstand," he assured her. "I'm asking you to marry me."
"I cannot." Tears sparkled in her eyes, then she closed them tight, making the tears spill down her cheeks.
The ache within his vitals grew, expanding to take over his chest, tightening, making it hard to breathe. "Why not?"
She shook her head. "Oh, dear Neacal. I…" Covering her face with her hands, she broke into sobs.
Saints! 'Twas not the response he'd hoped for at all. Had he bungled this just as he'd bungled everything else in his life?
"What is it, Anna?" He rubbed her slender shoulders, wishing he could read her mind. He sensed that she held a world of pain inside her, that she was trying to escape the past just as he was, but it clung to them like spider webs.
Saints, how he wanted to hold her in his arms, to comfort her, but he couldn't now. A divide as solid as a thick stone wall stood between them. What the devil was it? Once he knew, mayhap he could destroy it.
After she got her crying under control, she lowered her hands and tried to awkwardly dry her tears on her sleeve. "You're a chief," she whispered.
He took out his clean handkerchief and handed it to her. "I'm well aware, but what difference does it make?"
Drying her tears, she shook her head. The pain gleaming in her reddened eyes carved a hole in his chest. How could he convince her?
"I would protect you and provide for you," he said.
"I know. You're a good man, Neacal. The most honorable I have ever met." The sweet affection in her eyes only made this more difficult. "But your clan would never approve of me."
Annoyance clawed at him. "Do you think I care? I'll marry the person I choose. Not who the elders advise me to marry. Of a certainty, not any of the young lasses who are visiting Bearach now."
Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8) Page 12
