The tenor to his voice sent a shiver through her. A shiver of fear or excitement? She wasn't entirely sure. Her feelings toward Morgann had become so muddled. She did not want to stay his prisoner yet she hungered to be around him. Aye, those hits to the head truly had confused her.
Still she kept her back straight and maintained eye contact, even as he bore down upon her. "Nay," she said hoarsely.
"On. The.Bed."
"Nay."
With a sigh, he latched his hands around her waist and threw her on the bed. She squealed as the bed ropes creaked and she bounced against the mattress. Before she could push herself up, Morgann was upon her once more, clasping both wrists in one hand as he bound them with the sheets, effectively tying her to the bed.
Eyes wide, she fought uselessly against him. "How am I to relieve myself now?" she asked feebly.
"I doubt ye even needed to but ye'll be able to use the chamber pot with some difficulty."
Alana glanced down. Aye, she'd not really needed it. But she would at some point during the night. Did he expect her to do so with her hands bound and him lying on a mattress at the foot of her bed?
She tugged on her bindings. "And how shall I stay warm now I've got no blankets?"
“Ye should have thought of that before ye decided to use them to escape.”
She gave the sheets binding her wrists one last tug, blew her hair from her face and slumped against the pillows.
Morgann smirked with satisfaction and Alana gritted her teeth at his display of male pride. "'Tis bad enough ye've kidnapped me but now ye've tied me up and plan to sleep in my chamber. I'll be ruined by the time yer done with me."
He crossed both arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels as he considered her. "Trust me, lass, if I wanted ye ruined, I had enough opportunity on the mountains."
A knot sat in her throat. What did he mean? Surely she hadn't really—
"Oh, aye." He nodded, making her wonder if she'd spoken aloud or perhaps he just read her that easily. "Ye all but offered yerself to me."
She swallowed the lump, hoping the dim candlelight hid the blush in her cheeks. "I didnae!"
"Said ye'd never been with a man and then threw yerself at me." His teeth flashed. "Yer lucky I'm an honourable man. Many lesser men would have taken everything ye offered and more."
"I took ye for many things, Morgann, but I didnae take ye for a liar."
"I'm no' lying about this and ye know it well. I can tell, Alana. Ye remember that moment just as well as I do." Morgann positioned himself at the end of the bed, arms still folded. He released a cynical laugh. "Many lesser men would take ye now too."
Skin prickling, Alana tried to ignore the thrill his words sent through her as her body remembered the sensation of being draped across that powerful form. In the candlelight, his skin gleamed, along with his eyes. It was no wonder she'd offered herself to him really. Who could resist such a man? She tracked every fragment of him, from the dusting of hair at his collar to the veins in his arms. Unfortunately the end of the bed blocked the rest of him.
"Especially when ye look at them like that."
She snapped her gaze to his face, cursing her obviousness. She never had been any good at hiding her thoughts. "Mayhap ye should take me. I am ruined anyway." She smiled. Oh aye, this could work. Seduce him into letting her go. Not that she'd ever seduced a man before. In truth, she'd never even kissed one.
Eyes hooded, Morgann's gaze followed the line of her skirts—where she knew her ankles were on display—up to her breasts, and lingered on her face. Each part of her singed, as if he had touched her rather than just looked. The faint buffet of the wind against the shutters drowned out the sound of her own heavy breaths but it failed to cover the pounding beat in herears. How long he studied her, she couldn't be sure, but if felt like forever.
And then he spoke and it was not long enough.
"Ye make a tempting offer but I'm in no habit of taking lasses against their will."
"Why would it be against my will?" Embarrassment flamed through her as she heard the desperation in her voice.
Sweet Mary, was it all part of the plan or did she truly long for him to make her his? What she had told him in the mountains had been true. Long ago she'd believed they would probably marry and he would be the one to take her maidenhood but never like this. And she never expected to yearn for it so badly.
He moved unexpectedly around the bed and dropped down beside her. Palms pressed into the pillow, his arms framed her, chest flat against hers. Her nipples peaked against him at the feel of hard male flesh and his hair tickled her cheek as it fell across her face. A hint of fruity wine lingered in his warm breaths and she blinked as his lips came to her ear. Her hands came up to press him away but somehow ended up fastened to his chest. A heavy pulse against her palm echoed the one in her chest. She shuddered as his breath fanned over her skin.
Firm lips danced over her chin and his tongue darted out to lick at the corner of her mouth. A tingle bolted through her and she forgot to breathe. She went rigid. This isnae how a first kiss should be!
"Ye dinnae know what ye want, Alana,” he whispered. Thrusting himself away, he stood and shook his head. “And I'll no’ fall prey to some wild plan ye've hatched to get under my skin."
"Do I?" she forced out of a tight throat.
"Do ye what?"
"Get under yer skin?"
His jaw twitched and he backed away from the bed. "I'll no' play these games anymore, lass. Ye'll stay here, unharmed, and be returned in exactly the same condition as ye arrived in. Once yer father has agreed to my terms."
"Which are?"
Morgann lowered himself into the carved oak chair by the fire and began unlacing his boots. Alana watched his nimble fingers with fascination. What would they feel like on her bare skin? She pressed her lips together. Lord, had she wanted him to kiss her after all?
He glanced up at her. "Ye need not know. If all goes to plan, ye'll be safely installed back in yer keep before long, none the wiser."
Alana blew out a frustrated breath. All these secrets. It was so unlike Morgann. Hadn't they once shared everything? With a four year age gap, they'd become good friends as soon as Alana was able to walk. Morgann's mother loved to tell of how Morgann doted on her even as a babe. How had things gone so wrong?
She observed him as he strolled around the bed, his walk confident and sure. If only she felt so assured. That deep intent gaze latched on to hers briefly as he leaned over and blew out the candle.
“Sleep now, lass,” she heard him say softly.
Had she imagined the longing tone to his voice?
Chapter Five
With a grimace, Morgann stretched his aching arms. Ach, sleeping on a straw pallet was nothing like sleeping on a feather bed. His bed.The bed that Alana occupied. Scraping a hand through his hair, he pushed to sitting and peered at the bed. Only bare feet peeked out over the edge, small and pink. A strange urge to wrap his hands around them and warm them struck. He glanced over at the fire, noting it died during the night. It was likely Alana was cold. Remorse assailed him.
He clambered to his feet and extended his arms, barely covering a groan as his muscles protested. It was her fault. He followed the line of sheets and sighed as he took in the sight of bound wrists. She slept on one side, hair splayed across the pillow, mouth slightly ajar. Her chest moved with each deep inhalation, the gentle curves teasing him with their smoothness. Hand rasping across his jaw, he took a step closer and let his gaze linger on her parted lips.
In sleep, she looked so innocent. He smiled to himself. But innocent she was not. A temptress in disguise that one. Though mayhap she did not realise quite how tempting she was. Her rash words last night had very nearly broken through his self-control. He could never do it and live with himself, but the primitive part of him ached to take her and make her his.
She moaned quietly and tossed, and he leaped back, only relaxing when she remained asleep. He studied her once m
ore. Was it just her beauty that enticed him? Alana had always been a pretty lass, though he'd not paid much attention to it. Only after he'd been banished did he begin to regret that they would never reach the point of marriage, something everyone, including them, assumed would happen.
Her spirit was to be respected to be sure. Though he could do without it right now. What was to be a simple kidnapping was becoming quite the trial. But he saw something of himself in her. That determination and admirable loyalty to her clan. He understood that. Mayhap that was why the pull to her was so strong.
Shaking his head at himself, he backed away, slipped on both boots and walked to the door, careful to open and close it quietly. If she had slept as badly as he, she needed rest. He paused outside to lace his boots and listened. Would she attempt another escape? He didn’t think she was foolish enough to try and scale the wall again. He straightened and bolted the door, running a hand through his hair again in an effort to tidy it. A wash and clean clothes had to wait until he found someone to mind Alana.
Morgann nodded a greeting to his men as he strode across the top floor and followed the spiral stairs to the hall. Most of the men were gathered for breakfast, occupying the two long tables that had been set up for the morning meal. Shouting and the clatter of knives filled the large hall and Morgann grinned at the sight. Many good men sat at his father's tables. He would surely do everything in his power to protect them.
His gaze settled on Margot, sat at the top table, her lady-in-waiting at her side. He narrowed his eyes as they conversed, heads together. Neither of them could be trusted. While he did all he could to watch her and keep her from his father's side, she was still the laird’s wife and there was a limit to his power. Somehow she ensured his father stayed bedridden.
His closest friend, Finn, told him he was foolish to blame his father's ill health on Margot but he knew it was her.
Knowing eyes connected with his and a sly smile skimmed across Margot's lips.
Without a doubt, the woman wanted his father dead. If he had succeeded all those years ago, he would have had solid proof. As it was, none believed him, not even his father. But his father was so blinded by her beauty and seductive ways.
Aware he was glowering, he stomped across the hall, briefly patting a hand to Finn's shoulder as he sat at the end of the table.
Finn dipped his head in greeting and grinned. "Good morrow, laird."
"Good morrow."
"Sleep well?"
Morgann rolled his eyes as he caught the lewd edge to Finn's grin. "Aye, well enough," he replied curtly.
“And how is our guest?" Margot leaned over, drink in hand as she pressed her breast into his arm.
"I know not."
"And how could that be? Ye slept in her chambers all night did ye not?” She smiled seductively. “Or mayhap ye did little sleeping?”
Morgann tried to shift away but she moved closer, thigh brushing his through her gown. "I was there to ensure she didnae attempt an escape, naught more."
"Are ye expecting me to believe ye spent the night with a pretty lass and did naught? Ormayhap she rejected ye?” Margot laughed lightly.
“Rejected ye?” Finn interrupted. “Surely not. Morgann has never been rejected by a lass!”
“Naught happened,” Morgann said firmly as he snatched a chunk of bread from the platter in front of him.
“Well,” Margot declared, eyeing him over the edge of her wine cup, “no one will believe it. Ye might as well have taken yer pleasure for she’s all but ruined now.”
“Naught happened,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “And anyone caught saying otherwise will have me to deal with.” He glared at Margot and she backed away, sniffing dismissively.
Morgann turned his attention to his meal though he had little appetite. He satisfied himself with a long drink of ale. Being sat next to Margot often stole his appetite but he suspected it was another woman who robbed him of it this day. Draining his cup, he swiped his mouth with the back of a hand and caught Finn studying him.
"Ye want something?"
Finn chuckled. "Nay, laird, naught."
"Then cease staring at me like some lovesick lassie."
The smile on his friend's face expanded at this. "I dinnae think I'm the one behaving like a lovesick lassie."
Morgann groaned inwardly. If Finn recognised his idiotic behaviour then mayhap everyone else had too. Though Finn knew him better than anyone.
Instead of confronting him, knowing full well that Finn took great delight in riling him, he came to his feet, bending to address him briefly. "I've to see to my duties. Will ye check in on our guest? I dinnae trust her and, in the light of day, she may try something else." He turned and paused, a hand to Finn’s shoulder. "And dinnae let Margot near her," he murmured.
Finn rolled his eyes and nodded. "Aye, of course. I'll no' let the little lass get the better of me, never ye fear."
Morgannignored the veiled insult, well used to Finn's antics. "Aye. Good day to ye then. I'll comecheck on our guest shortly."
Pushing past the servants clearing away the food, Morgann stepped out of the arched doorway and stood on the bridge that connected the courtyard to the castle. He sucked in a long breath and studied the clear skies with a frown.
An odd storm indeed, the one that caught them both unawares. Almost as if the fates intended for them to be stuck out in the hills.Shaking away the foolish notion, he marched across the bridge and took the stairs up to the ramparts, two at a time. A fresh breeze blew over the top of the wall bringing a sense of promise.
Something was to change. He could feel it. Hopefully his missive would be in Laird Dougall's hands before long and he now had no choice but to admit the truth to his father. FinallyGlencolum would be free of the witch’s conniving schemes and his clan truly safe.
***
Alana moaned as Morgann wrapped his thick hands around her wrists, pinning them down as he assaulted her mouth again.Mindlessly she rocked her body up into him, the warmth of his mouth drowning out everything. Only heat and hardness and heavy breathing existed.
She opened her eyes and a blanket of red greeted her. She scowled and tried to tug her hands free from Morgann’s grip but he refused to release her. As her tired eyes cleared, she realised Morgann had gone. And she wasn’t in her bed at home. Alana struggled to rub the sleep from her eyes but something yanked on her wrists.
Glancing down, she spied the sheets tied around her hands and groaned. A dream. It had all been a dream. And the unfamiliar red fabric was the canopy of Morgann’s bed. At least she assumed it was his bed. She’d never been in these chambers before but a masculine scent lingered on the sheets.
She remained a prisoner of Morgann MacRae.
Sweet Mary, but that dream had been vivid. She blew her tangled hair from her face, hoping to cool her skin a little. Ach, dreaming of her captor was no good thing. She needed to remain detached if she was to find a way out. And she had very little time. With only a day’s ride between the castles, her father could well be on his way now. Though she imagined he would want to gather his men first.
Footsteps sounded outside her door and came to a stop. She bolted upright and attempted to comb back her hair from her face with bound hands. Her heart sank as Finn stepped into the room, a huge smile on his face.
“Good morrow, my lady.”
Alana raised a brow and went to fold her arms over her chest, only for her bindings to prevent her from doing so. “Ye need not play the chivalrous nobleman with me, Finn. I know ye are as discourteous as they come.”
“Ach, Alana, ye wound me.” He gave her an injured look.
She studied the fair giant of a man, trying to resist the twitching of her lips. He’d changed little over the years, still tall and broad with long hair and a slightly bent nose. Not that it marred his strong features. Men like Finn took pride in their battle wounds and women seemed to admire them just as much. He was indeed handsome, so how was it Finn didn’t inspire imaginings li
ke Morgann did?
“Are ye going to behave yerself now, lass?” He stepped forward and drew a hand from behind his back, revealing a bundle of clothing. “I have a clean gown and plaid for ye. Thought ye might need them after yer adventures yester eve seeing as ye never had a chance to change.”
Taken aback by his thoughtfulness, Alana opened her mouth and clamped it shut. Finn always had been tender hearted, even when she’d known him as a boy. Why couldn’t she hunger after him instead of the inconsiderate, brutish laird?
"Aye, well, I thank ye," she muttered and, realising how petulant she sounded, she offered a reluctant smile. "'Tis thoughtful of ye."
Finn placed the garments into her hands and sat on the end of the bed. "If I release ye, ye'll no' try to escape will ye?"
Alana glanced at the slightly ajar door then at Finn and finally at her wrists. She couldn't see herself getting very far past the large warrior. Mayhap she could appeal to his soft side once she was dressed. And she longed to remove her grimy gown. It had been soaked and caked in mud and dragged against the stone of the castle. No wonder her bit to seduce Morgann had failed.
"Aye, I'll no' attempt anything."
Nodding with satisfaction, Finn placed her wrists in his lap and began tugging apart the sheets. "God's blood, Morgann really didnae want ye escaping, did he?" he exclaimed as he battled with the knot.
"I think I made it tighter when I tried to wriggle out of them."
Cursing, Finn brought the bonds to his mouth, using his teeth to pry the knots apart.
Alana jumped as the door swung back suddenly, thudding on its hinges, and Morgann stepped in, his expression dark. "What the devil is going on here?"
Finn dropped her wrists. "Just seeing to the lass, my laird."
Alana gulped but Finn showed no sign of nervousness at Morgann's ferocious expression. Instead, his smile widened.
"Get out!" Morgann barked. "I'll see to her."
"Ye willnae!" Alana exclaimed, a tremor of apprehension making her limbs weak.
She did not want to be left alone with Morgann, not when he looked ready to tear her, or mayhap Finn, apart. And certainly not after that all too real dream. Would she even be able to look at his mouth without picturing it on hers?
I Left My Heart in Scotland Page 6
