God's blood, how could he resist? She needed pleasure as much as he needed to give it. He pressed experimentally, blood rushing through his skull as she bucked into his fingers. Morgann moved the pad of one finger carefully, praying for her to sleep on yet yearning for her to awaken. Around and around he circled with the lightest of touches. Sweat tingled on his brow, his body tight as he watched her respond to each movement. Such passion, such beauty. He should have known she’d be like this.
He pushed harder as she writhed. Did she dream of him as he brought her pleasure? Did she imagine him touching her inside and out? Or did she dream of someone else? The thought made his gut clench and made him more determined to help her reach the peak.
Alana curled her hands around the sheets, breasts thrusting upwards. Powerless to stop himself, he leaned over, put his mouth around one firm nipple and sucked at it through the fabric. She pulsed under his fingers and breathed his name, her legs juddering as a sharp release took hold of her.
He grinned. She had been dreaming of him. As she sagged back down, Morgann drew awaytentatively, hopeful she’d awaken and reward him with a look of satisfaction. A hand lay by her side, slightly open and he tucked his fingers in them briefly as her breathing steadied and she fell into a deeper sleep.
With a sigh, he rolled over and slipped a hand under the pillow. How was he meant to resist the lass now? The scent of her lingered in the air, the sound of her breaths teased him. There was a gap between them yet the heat from her skin traversed it. He only hoped Margot was found soon. This waiting was killing him. He longed to be out there, hunting her down, but who could he trust to protect Alana? No one. But he wasn’t so sure he could trust himself now. He just had to control himself for a short while. When this was all over…
He sighed again. When this was all over would he claim her as his or let her go? She’d fought him every step of the way, would she even wish to stay by his side? She’d barely uttered two words to him that eve, not even enough to protest sharing a bed with him. If he’d been inclined to play the chivalrous man, he’d have brought up a pallet from the kitchens and slept on the floor but the castle was cold and he was unable to resist lying next to her. After all, if she didn’t forgive him for his treachery, he might never see her again once he returned her to her father.
Morgann battled these thoughts all night, images of Alana naked and sensual in his arms mingling with thoughts of losing her. He woke with a thick head and gritty eyes. Alana, however, awoke with a smile on her face and he fought to keep the knowing grin from his face, in spite of his bad mood.
She quickly covered her smile, affecting a cool look and greeting him with an even cooler, “Good morrow.”
Still cross with him then.
“Good morrow, lass. Did ye sleep well?” He rolled out of bed and stretched. Her gaze darted up to his chest briefly, cheeks filling with colour as she tugged the sheets around her.
“Aye, well enough,” she replied quietly.
By some miracle, he kept his smug response to himself and dressed quickly. “I’ve to check the nets. Can ye wait to break yer fast until then?” he asked as he sat to tie his boots.
“Aye, I’ll slice some bread while ye do that.”
He paused as he glanced up at her. Golden hair tangled around her shoulders, having escaped her braid during the night. She kept the sheets tucked under her chin and her cheeks were rosy. She was so damned exquisite, it near stole his breath.
As he left the bedroom, the peculiar domestic routine they’d found themselves in struck him. And what was stranger, was, in spite of the fact she probably hated him for his lies, he enjoyed it. For the first time in a long time, he only had to worry about himself and Alana.
Stepping out of the hall, he paused at the top of the stairs and drew in a breath. The day was fresh but not too cold. As he gazed out over the loch, the water so still the mountains reflected almost perfectly in it, he realised now was the time. He needed to tell Alana the truth. She was stronger than he ever imagined and in his bid to protect her from the truth, he’d only pushed her away. But no more.He wanted to close the distance between them for once and for all. If she couldn’t forgive him or didn’t believe him, then so be it, but at least he’d know.
With easy strides, he came to the water’s edge and dipped to scoop some up, the freezing water clearing away his fatigue as he scrubbed his face and hair. Morgann ran his fingers through his hair and removed his boots before wading up to the nets. He lifted them. Not bad. They wouldn’t starve at least.
He went to pull the net to the bank and halted as a splash of cold water hit his back, trickling through his shirt. He turned to see Alana, skirts in hand, ankle deep in the water, an impish smile on her face.
One brow raised, he eyed her and dropped the net. “What are ye playing at, lass?”
“Naught.” She lifted her chin and swished her gown playfully.
He frowned. “Yer not angry with me anymore?”
“I was never angry, Morgann. Just annoyed. Ye made a fool of me, ye know? I protested yer innocence for so long.”
“So ‘tis not the fact that I’m a thief that bothers ye, just yer hurt pride?”
Alana tilted her head. “Ye may think of me as a daft lass, laird, but I am no fool. Whatever ye did, ye had good reason to. Yer no’ a heartless thief, any more than I’m a naïve lass.”
Taking a moment to study her, he shook his head. When was it she became so wise? And how did she see through him so easily?
“Will ye not tell me, Morgann? Tell me why ye took the ring, why ye took me.”
He grimaced. As much as he’d been prepared to tell all, he didn’t relish sharing her father’s sordid deeds with her. “Aye, but get out of the water first. I’ll no’ have ye catching a chill.”
With a roll of her eyes, she stepped out onto the shingled bank and he followed her, fighting the urge to scoop her up and protect her bare feet from the stones. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him as he rolled down his sleeves. “Well?”
Her gaze connected with his, green eyes imploring him for the truth. Lord knows he wanted to unburden himself. And Alana was so much stronger than he ever realised.
“That ring…” He coughed. “That ring was my mothers. A ring of promise given to her by my father.”
She blinked. “So why did my father have it?”
“My stepmother gave it to yer father as a promise too. A promise that she would become his bride as soon as my father was dead.”
Alana’s mouth parted but she remained silent.
“She intended for my father to die very soon after she made that promise. I found out about her plans by accident one night and I think I prevented her from killing him as she’d hoped. By poison.”
“So that’s why ye think I was…”
“Aye. Poison seems to be Margot’s weapon of choice.” He fisted his hands by his side, jaw tight as he considered how close he’d been to losing Alana. “I heard Margot speaking with her lady-in-waiting one night. Once my father was dead, she planned to rise up with yer father and take the MacRae lands. With my father dead and her holding the land she’d inherit as his wife, ‘twould have been an easy victory. I wasnae fit for leading a war at that age to be sure.”
“Sweet Mary,” she whispered. “But the ring… why take it?”
“My father wanted proof. Margot insisted the ring had been stolen. She even had a servant girl punished for it. I thought if I could bring it back, he would see she was lying and she’d be forced to confess all. I’ll admit my plans were no’ the best but I did what I thought I had to.”
“Oh, Morgann, ye should have said something. I could have got that ring for ye easily.
He gave her a tilted grin. “I didnae want ye knowing what yer father was up to. I thought ye’d be heartbroken.” He studied her as she took it in, shoulders straight, chin raised. As strong as ever. “I was wrong, was I not?”
She let slip a small smile. “I dinnae know. I’m no’ daft, I was a
lways aware of my father’s ways. He always wanted more. More land, more power. It never occurred to me he might have his eye on yer lands though. But he isnae the same now, Morgann. Even if Margot succeeded in her plans, he’s too old to be fighting wars.”
“She still wants my father dead. And ye.Yer the key here, Alana. With ye, I intended to force yer father to admit the truth and to ensure Margot’s true nature was revealed.”
Alana pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Ye know, if ye’d just asked…”
He let out a snort. “Aye… would ye believe that I thought I was protecting ye?”
Head tilted, she scrutinised him and his pulse thumped under her penetrating gaze. She didn’t seem angry. Or disappointed. Or anything he’d expected. Ach, he could hardly believe he’d spent all this time fearing telling her and here she was, taking the news with such calm control. He’d underestimated the lass severely.
But no longer. Nay, he knew what Alana was made of and, by God, did it serve to increase his desire for her. For a woman like Alana would surely be able to match any man, especially a Highlander. He loved her, he realised. Mayhap he always had.
“Morgann MacRae,” she declared suddenly. “Yer as stubborn a man as I’ve ever met. But, aye, I believe ye thought it best. But now we have the truth, I can help ye. Return me home and I’ll speak with my da. I’ll persuade him to tell all to yer father.”
He took in her stubborn chin, the determined glint in her eyes. “Aye. Aye, I believe ye will.”
Hell fire, the lass could persuade a whole army to give up their fight and return home, he suspected. Who in their right mind could resist a creamy skinned, flaxen-haired goddess with more fortitude than a dozen men?
“So ye’ll return me home?”
“Soon enough,” he replied cryptically. He wasn’t sure he could bear to part with her too soon and Margot was still on the loose. How could he protect her if she returned home?
“Ach, what am I to do with ye, MacRae?”
He grinned and let his gaze rove lazily over her. “I could think of a few things, Campbell.”
Cheeks brightening as she gave a startled gasp, she jumped forward and shoved him back. Taken by surprise, he stumbled back, landing hard on the bank, half submerged in the water.
“Mayhap that will cool ye off,” she declared.
Morgann swiped the water from his face and tried to affect a glower but he must have failed as Alana didn’t look at all intimidated. Nay, she looked vibrant and happy and disturbingly like everything he’d ever wanted. He rose up onto his elbows as she eyed him, daring him to retaliate. He leaped up and gave chase, determined she’d get a good soaking too. Her laughter rang out as she sprinted away, lifting his heart.
Ach, he doubted all the lochs in Scotland could cool his need for her.
***
The shutters crashed against the castle as she threw them open. A clear sky greeted her and the gentle breeze cooled her skin. But it could not cool her thoughts. These dreams were coming every night now and were becoming more and more heated. She glanced at the bed, eyeing the rumpled sheets and the indent where Morgann had lain.
Where was he? In spite of the heat the dream had caused it was still a cold night so she didn’t know why he'd left her bed. The tangled bedding sparked a memory of hard masculine flesh crawling across them. It wasn't real but, sweet Mary, her dream had been vivid. The way his body aligned with hers. The way he took her mouth so fiercely. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.
She couldn’t sleep. Not after everything Morgann had told her. It made sense. Her father had been power-hungry in his younger years and Margot was certainly an experienced seductress. Not many men would refuse her.
Except Morgann. After their day together, catching fish and cooking them by the loch, a fresh sense of hope pervaded her. That was the man she loved.
Foolish, stubborn man that he was. So many years wasted. If he’d only told her of his worries, she was sure she could right them. But a highlander didn’t rely on a mere lass. Nay, they were taught to protect the weak and deal with their problems on their own. In spite of his idiocy, she couldn’t help but admire him all the more for bearing his troubles alone.
She leaned further out the window, seeking the relief of the fresh night air. Stars dotted the skies, reflected in the loch. The flat inky black surface mirrored the sky so well that Alana was half tempted to run down and jump in and pretend she was bathing with the stars.
A movement in the water caught her attention, a ripple that caused the pinpricks of light to bob and weave. Alana squinted at the spot. A gasp wedged in her throat as a person surfaced. Nay, not a person.Morgann. His shoulders breached the water, the shadowy surface shrinking away to reveal his chest as if birthing him from the gloom. If she didn't know better she'd think him some dark and sinister being.
But no monster could look like that. Indeed he still looked dangerous but the danger was more likely to her heart than her body.
Nay, mayhap the danger was to both.
Her mouth grew dry and she realised she watched with an open mouth. Nails digging into the stone windowsill, she found herself unable to turn away as he continued to stalk toward the edge of the loch.
Lean hips came next and her cheeks flamed as she eyed the shadows at the juncture of his thighs. Alana scolded herself for wishing the light was better. Muscles flexed and rippled as he stepped completely from the water and reached for something. His plaid by the looks of it.
Disappointment struck her as he wrapped it about his hips and grasped it in one hand. Still, she took a moment to study his torso. Her dreams, as heated as they had been, had done him little justice. As he moved closer to the keep, she made out the dark hair that swirled over his chest, leading down his firm stomach in invitation.
Before she had a chance to think on it, Alana spun away and flung open the door to the chambers. She scurried along the hall to the front entrance and paused, heart thumping as she waited. What was she doing?
Legs frozen, she listened as wet feet slapped against the stone steps. What would she even say to him? Her chest grew tight as the door creaked open slowly. He was likelytrying to be quiet so as not to wake her. She dropped her gaze to the floor, unsure what on Earth she was going to say to him.
Water pattered gently onto the wooden floorboards as he stepped in. Before she could utter a word, he was upon her, one strong hand wrapped around her throat and he thrust her back against the wall. She tried to scream but his grip was too powerful and it came out as a muffled sound. He bore downon her and plunged a hand into her hair, yanked her head up.
The rage in his expression made her insides shrivel in fear and she went limp against his hold, the pressure from his hand making her neck ache.Morgann dropped both hands suddenly and she sagged against the wall.
"Alana? Hell fire!"
Alana blinked, a hand to her neck as she swallowed her fear.
"Did I hurt ye? Forgive me, 'twas dark. I didn’t think. I thought ye were Margot. God's teeth, forgive me."
He reached out and she shrank back. But it wasn't fear she felt anymore. As he'd grabbed her, he'd dropped his plaid and he now stood completely naked. While she remained in the shadows, the starlight streaming through the door highlighted him perfectly. She saw everything. From his large masculine feet, to his muscular thighs, to his manhood.
She tilted her head slightly. His manhood that appeared to be growing. Heat flourished in her chest and she put a hand to it. Oh dear Lord. And she couldn't seem to drag her gaze away.
"Alana, are ye well? Did I hurt ye? Talk to me, lass."
Snapping her eyes up, she shook her head frantically, unable to find enough her voice to even utter a simple 'nay'.
"What were ye doing, lass?"
Of its own accord, her gaze slipped down to the apex of his thighs and she gulped, the sound seeming loud in her ears.Mayhap he'd heard it too as he cursed and darted a look around. He spied his plaid, snatched it up and flung it lazil
y around his hips, fisting it in one hand.
"I-I couldnae sleep," she squeaked, suddenly finding what was left of her voice. "What were ye doing?" she added accusingly.
Aye, why was he swimming in the middle of the night and teasing her with his warrior's body?
"Cooling off," he replied easily, inching closer. Morgann reached out and brushed a thumb across her throat, soothing the spot where his fingers had pressed.
She scowled. "'Tis nae hot."
He grinned suddenly, teeth flashing in the dark andmischievous Morgann made himself known. "'Tis when I share a bed with ye."
"Oh."
They both fell silent as his thumb continued to play across her throat. The coarse fingertip against her skin made her shiver as she stared up at him. Hair hung over his face, still wet and spiked and dark eyes peeked out from underneath it, his lashes wet too. It made her want to reach out and brush his hair away, to smooth a palm across his cheek and savour the rough texture but she remained rigid, fearful of making the wrong move and ending the moment. It seemed fate had been leading up to this point and everything was suddenly very clear.
All this time life forced her into Morgann's arms. As if they were being given a second chance. They'd missed out on their time together all those years ago and now this was it. They'd both changed but this day had proved to her there was more to Morgann than surly moods and a gruff manner. Buried deep inside was her friend. She’d seen him briefly when they’d played around in the loch.
And on the outside was a beautiful, fierce man. Both combined made her weak at the knees.
A drop of water splashed on her cheek as it dripped from his hair and it made her jolt as she realised just how close he was. Somehow he now stood so near that she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. She had to crane her neck to look up at him.
"Did I hurt ye?" he asked again, his voice gruff.
"Nay." Her voice sounded just as gruff to her ears.
"I couldnae forgive myself if I did. I've never wanted to hurt ye, Alana. Everything I’ve done has been to protect ye, ye know."
She nodded dumbly as he closed the gap with agonising slowness. She gasped as his body squashed her breasts, her nipples instantly pebbling. He kept coming, pressing into her until not a whisper of air could fit between them. His hard thighs rasped against her chemise.
I Left My Heart in Scotland Page 11
