The Highlander Who Loved Me

by Adrienne Basso

  Though he had drunk more ale than usual, James’s steps were steady. He slapped his brother on the back, momentarily startling him. But when he moved to place himself in front of Davina, Malcolm balked.

  “Ye have to wait yer turn, little brother,” Malcolm said pointedly, steering Davina beyond James’s reach.

  James ground his teeth together, fighting to keep his temper. “The dance has ended and another begun. ’Tis my turn.”

  “Crusaders like to dance?” Malcolm’s face twisted into a comical grin. “I dinnae realize.”

  “There’s much that ye dinnae know,” James said through set teeth, bringing his hand down on Davina’s shoulder in a possessive gesture.

  Malcolm’s smile disappeared. Expression tightening, he pushed Davina behind him and moved to stand toe to toe with his brother. James was pleased to note that while Malcolm was slightly taller, his older brother no longer towered over him. The similar height made him feel as though they were on more equal footing.

  Both men stared at each other, neither prepared to give an inch. James could see Malcolm’s hands open and close at his sides. He leaned forward, daring his brother to take a swing.

  But Malcolm refused to take the bait. He refused, also, to relinquish Davina.

  As they started arguing again, James saw Davina flinch. He extended his arm in a gesture of contrition, but she backed away from his grasp, placing an obvious distance between them. Her eyes were wary, her discomfort clear.

  But even more upsetting was the fact that she hid behind Malcolm. His brother tucked her hand tenderly in his own, causing a fresh wave of irritation to wash over James.

  Why is she so damn comfortable in Malcolm’s presence and so skittish around me?

  “Find another lass to dance with, James,” Malcolm commanded. “I’m certain if ye ask politely, there are one or two lasses that would be willing.”

  Anger and annoyance flared inside him at his brother’s mocking words. “I dinnae want another lass. I want Davina.”

  “So do I.” Malcolm’s voice was low, but warning.

  James ignored Davina’s gasp of shock and kept his eyes trained on his brother. Och, the battle lines are drawn.

  “I see that I shall have to teach you another lesson in humility on the practice field tomorrow morning,” James taunted.

  Malcolm’s expression remained calm, but his body went rigid. “Why wait until tomorrow? Fists work as well as swords. And the victor will have the honor of dancing with the lovely Davina all night.”

  Davina cringed as a collective gasp went through the crowd standing near enough to hear Malcolm’s words. The indomitable will of both men seemed to gather strength and grow as they faced each other. ’Twas a sight to behold, and many eyes in the hall were fixed upon them all.

  Well, she would not stand here and subject herself to such a spectacle. Fighting over her? Why the very idea itself was dimwitted. Slowly, she backed away from both men, the heat of embarrassment rising high in her cheeks.

  Thankfully, the pair barely seemed to notice her. Nay, they were too intent on their foolish battle of manly pride.

  With her as the prize! Honestly. She nearly laughed out loud at the irony, for she was no man’s notion of a female conquest. Indeed, virile men like James and Malcolm would be exasperated by her lack of feminine skills.

  “There’ll be no brawling in my hall,” Aileen shouted, coming to stand between her sons.

  There were a few cheers—mostly from the women—and many groans of disappointment from the men. Lady Aileen motioned for old Ross to play another tune and the man obligingly picked up his instrument.

  Assured that the lady of the castle had her wayward sons well in hand, Davina decided now was the perfect time to make her escape. She wound her way through the dancing couples and quickly exited the hall. But in her haste to leave, she took a wrong turn and found herself in an unfamiliar corridor.

  Pausing, Davina placed her thumb and forefinger on the bridge of her nose and pressed hard. ’Twas no wonder that her temples were throbbing. She drew in a deep breath and waited. Luckily, after a few minutes the pounding in her head eased.

  She gazed down the empty hallway, debating which way to turn, then admitted the only option was to go back the way she came and pray that neither James nor Malcolm noticed her returning to the great hall.

  Her restless strides carried her swiftly through the empty corridor, but then Davina saw a familiar figure approaching from the opposite side. James! She paused a moment, looking wildly for a place to hide, yet just as she realized there was nowhere to go, she felt a strong hand close over her wrist.

  “Why do I get the feeling that ye’re avoiding me?” James asked.

  Davina made an exasperated noise and murmured beneath her breath. “Nay, ye are mistaken, James. I’m merely tired. And my head hurts,” she added, realizing she had no need to feign an illness, for the pounding had indeed started again.

  “Why did ye disappear so suddenly from the hall?” Davina’s mouth twisted. “Ye are an intelligent man, James. Do ye really not know?”

  He lowered his chin and for a mere instant looked sheepish. But as quickly as it came, the expression vanished. “I’ll not apologize fer my protective nature.”

  “I was hardly in any danger dancing with yer brother.”

  “I disagree.”

  She shook her head and turned to leave, but he took hold of her arm. “We’ve unfinished business.”

  She let the exasperation she felt show clearly on her face. “James, I am not returning to the hall to dance with ye.”

  “I was not referring to a dance.” She frowned in puzzlement and he circled her slowly. “Ye were going to kiss me this afternoon, but Lileas interrupted us.”

  The air in Davina’s lungs tightened. “’Tis true that kiss between us might have occurred. But that moment has passed.”

  “Then we shall share a friendly kiss in the spirit of the season.”

  “What?”

  “A friendly kiss,” he repeated.

  “There’s no mistletoe,” she whispered weakly.

  James regarded her with amusement. “We dinnae need it.”

  He carefully guided her until her back was pressed against the wall. He reached for her waist and drew her forward. Their faces were only a few inches apart. James’s eyes grew dark with hunger and Davina felt a wave of heat pass over her when she realized the vulnerability of her position.

  She was at his mercy. Powerless. She stilled against him, waiting for the fear the nearness of being this close, this intimate, with a man evoked.

  “I’ll not harm ye,” he whispered. “All I want is a wee kiss.”

  The sound of his deep, sensual voice blazed through her. She remembered the curious feelings that had swamped her when he held her close this afternoon. The notion of being kissed by James then had been more intriguing than fearful, but here, in this darkened, secluded hall, it felt different.

  Forbidding.

  Davina struggled to hold herself apart from the mindless panic that was sure to come, but it was impossible. She felt her chest flush, her breath shorten, her heart race. The heat of his warm breath brushed her cheek and she whimpered.

  Reacting instinctively, Davina turned her head away as his mouth descended, but that did not deter him. Nay, instead of capturing her lips, James nuzzled her neck, then nibbled behind her ear.

  She stilled. Shivering sensations invaded her. She involuntarily clasped his upper arm to keep herself steady.

  “James,” she pleaded, turning her face, meeting his eyes with a boldness she did not feel.

  He bent his head, pressing his cheek to her temple. “A kiss, Davina. One wee kiss.”

  His voice was a deep growl, yet Davina found herself moistening her lips. There was an air of command about him that should have frightened her witless, but instead she was fascinated.

  It had been an age since she had shared a kiss with a man—with James. She had changed so much—and
so had he. And yet . . .

  What harm could it do? A single kiss—no more, no less.

  She slowly lifted her chin. His arms tightened around her, pulling her close to his chest. Davina tensed in anticipation, as he leaned over her. His lips closed over hers, the touch sweet and feather-light. The tip of his tongue slowly explored the fullness of her lips languidly, almost as though he believed she would pull away.

  The gentle tenderness caught her off guard. She had expected fierceness from her hardened warrior, but instead his lips teased hers, showing her the gentle young man she had once loved still lived somewhere inside him.

  Davina’s eyes drifted closed. Warmth and wonder began to flow through her. It was miraculous. She was not senseless with fear at being this close to a man—physically and emotionally. Nay, instead she was awash in delight and freedom.

  Overcome with emotion, Davina pressed her hands against his chest, this time capturing his lips with her own. She could feel his startled reaction, but he quickly matched her fervor, groaning as their mouths slipped open, as their tongues met.

  The contact sent shafts of excitement shooting through her body, pooling in her nether regions. Davina whimpered, marveling at the unexpected feeling of coming alive again, of waking up after a long dormant sleep.

  She lifted her hands from his chest to his shoulders and wrapped her arms around his neck. The heat of him scorched through the thick velvet of her gown. She could feel herself clinging to him, the need to get closer growing inside her with every breath. She’d been numb for so long—distant and fearful and hiding. It felt like a rebirth to kiss him so intimately, to entwine her body with his.

  Somehow he sensed her emotions. One hand slid upward to cradle the back of her head, while the other lowered to her waist. Slowly, her body began to quiver with tantalizing sensations. It was so easy to get lost in the feelings he brought forth—the excitement, the anticipation, the passion.

  He broke the kiss, yet kept her tightly locked in his arms. Their short, heavy breaths filled the air as each tried to master their passion. Then James reached up and caressed her cheek with his fingertips.

  She stared at him, her mind reeling. His eyes seemed to capture her whole being, to hold her under some mysterious power. She swallowed the odd tickle in her throat, searching, and failing, to find the words to express her emotions.

  He lifted her hand, turned it over, and kissed the top of her wrist. It felt burning hot; possessive. Her pulse quickened and throbbed.

  Their bodies were too close. It was distracting. She struggled not to look into his eyes, and then suddenly Davina felt something snap inside her. Curling her fingers closed, she pulled her hand free.

  Too much, too soon. That she could have kissed him so openly and passionately was a wonder—yet it could be ruined in an instant if things went too far.

  “Good night, James.”

  Before he had a chance to fully comprehend her intentions, Davina escaped. Lifting her skirt so she could move faster, she scurried past him. She heard him shout her name, but she refused to look back.

  No matter how much she longed to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How are ye?”

  Davina stiffened when she saw James standing a few yards away at the edge of the kitchen winter garden. She had done her best to successfully avoid him all morning, but her luck had just run out.

  “I’m fine.” She studied him and felt a twinge of annoyance at his apparent ease. She had barely slept last night, her mind filled with the feel and taste of his kisses, her heart puzzled over what they could mean. “And how do ye fare on this cold morning?”

  “The same.” He stepped over a wide row of herbs to stand at her side. She moved back, her feet wobbling on the uneven ground. His hand shot out to keep her steady. She gasped at the sudden contact and pulled back.

  He frowned. “I regret that I frightened ye last night.”

  “Ye dinnae frighten me, James,” she admitted, averting her gaze. “I frightened myself.”

  “I dinnae understand.”

  She gazed up at him and immediately wished she had not. There was a trace of wistfulness on his face that tore right through her heart. “Last night was a momentary lapse in judgment,” she declared. “It willnae happen again.”

  James’s expression hardened. “Why not?”

  “’Tis unseemly.”

  His body turned rigid. Davina braced herself for his anger, but it never came. “Ye liked my kisses,” he insisted in a silky tone.

  “Aye.” Now it was her turn to sound wistful. “Fer a moment, a single, blissful moment, I was a young lass in love again.” She shook away the memory and stared at him with a hard-fought calm. “But the moment passed.”

  “Ye cannae forgive me,” he said bitterly, pushing his hand through his hair.

  “Fer the kisses?”

  “Fer the past.” He turned away, but not before she saw the wild emotions clouding his eyes. “I failed to protect ye, to keep ye safe.”

  “Against six attackers? ’Twas only because of yer bravery and skill either of us survived.”

  “I shamed and dishonored myself and my clan.”

  The sight of his suffering brought on a rush of emotions. “Is that why ye left the Highlands?”

  “I needed to atone fer my failings.” His voice darkened. “Joining the Crusades was the path I chose.”

  “Did it help?”

  “Fer a time.”

  She looked away, her gaze resting sightlessly on the horizon. “I wish that I could give ye ease from this unfounded guilt.”

  “Knowing that ye don’t blame me offers me some measure of comfort.”

  She turned back. She could see his chest rising and falling with each breath, a clear sign of his agitation. “Neither of us came away from that day unscathed.”

  His eyes gleamed with speculation. “I’ve noticed that ye often pull away whenever a man comes near. Though ye seem to overcome this skittish behavior admirably whenever ye are with Malcolm.”

  “Being away from my home has forced me to face my fears and slowly overcome them. Malcolm has been kind and patient. I’m comfortable around him.”

  He slanted her a glance as he helped her over a small mound of hard, packed dirt. “What about me?”

  “Ye unsettle me far more than he ever could.”

  James grinned suddenly, and she realized her answer pleased him.

  “Ye should be wearing gloves,” he admonished, touching her hand. “Yer fingers feel like ice.”

  “I dinnae plan to be out here very long. I was searching fer some rosemary to add to the sachets I’m making fer yer mother. She’s been very kind and I wanted to thank her.”

  James took her hand and placed it between both of his, warming it. ’Twas a pleasant, comforting sensation, until he began moving his hand. He stroked down her fingertips to her palm with a light, sensual touch. Shivers rippled through her. Gasping, Davina snapped her hand away.

  Surprise flashed in his eyes, but he took a deep breath and lowered his arms. “I’m glad to know that my memory dinnae play tricks on me,” he said cryptically.

  His words made her wonder. She studied him so intently in the tense silence that she took no notice of the small, furry creature than ran across her foot.

  She screamed, then jumped, falling into James’s arms. Startled, he caught her.

  “I believe a rat just ran over my boot,” she said breathlessly.

  “Och, in my mother’s garden?” James looked about the field. “I dinnae see it.”

  Davina shuddered, the reaction caused not entirely by the varmint or the cold. The intimacy of the situation was affecting her strangely, jumbling her thoughts. She had felt so strongly that avoiding further contact with James was the wisest course and yet she could not deny that she had enjoyed the kisses she shared with him.

  Aye, she had enjoyed them far more than she should.

  Davina gently pulled herself out of his embrace. “I need to ret
urn—”

  “Malcolm and I will be sparring on the practice field this morning,” he said, cutting her off. “The winner gets the first dance with ye tomorrow on Christmas Day. Will ye come and watch?”

  Davina wrinkled her brow, unable to believe she found herself in such a bizarre predicament. James and Malcolm both vying for her affections? The very idea left her breathless.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m in no mood to see the two of ye fighting. Can ye not give it a rest for a few days?”

  “’Tis only a brotherly rivalry.”

  “I feel responsible for it. Which is ridiculous, since I’ve no interest in either of ye.”

  James smiled ironically. “Yer kisses tell a different story.”

  She bristled, opening her mouth to deny it and instead letting out a soft chuckle. After a moment, he joined her. The sound warmed her heart and she considered it a good omen that they could laugh together.

  But she knew better than to read too much into it.

  Cupping her hand to protect the lit candle she carried from the wind, Davina followed Malcolm and Lileas into the bailey. Her breath caught when saw the number of people who had gathered there, each carrying a candle of their own. Night had fallen, and the shimmering glow of these single flames cast a golden light over everything.

  “It looks like a fairy land,” Lileas exclaimed.

  “Aye,” James answered as he pushed himself forward to stand beside them. “We all hold a candle to light the way and guide the Holy Family to safety on this Christmas Eve.”

  “Where’s my candle?” Lileas asked.

  “Here, take mine,” Davina offered.

  She blew out the flame and handed it to the little girl. Lileas’s brow furrowed as she gazed at the thin plume of smoke that rose from the extinguished wick, but instead of demanding that the candle be lit, she held it close to her heart.

  “When will the baby Jesus be here?” Lileas asked.

  “He comes at midnight,” Katherine explained. “Though we willnae actually see the babe.”

  Lileas thrust out her lower lip. “Why not?”

  “His coming is symbolic,” James replied.