"Go back inside, Nora. Please."
To his relief, she nodded and obeyed.
Ewan stood back, trying to draw a deep breath to alleviate the pain in his chest.
He had to let her go, and yet all he wanted was to hold on to her.
Why couldn't he ever find a woman for himself? One who wasn't promised to someone else?
Pagan joined him. "Your friend has decided with a little help from yours truly to leave the village immediately. Are you all right?"
"Thank you. Aye, I'm fine."
Pagan glanced in the direction Nora had vanished. "She's a good woman. You're very lucky to have someone like that who's willing to appreciate you for what you are."
Ewan nodded in agreement. "That she is."
"Are you to marry her?"
He shook his head. "She's not meant for me."
Pagan scoffed at him. "Then who is she meant for, Ewan? I can't imagine any other man showing her the patience you do. I for one would go mad if I had to tolerate her tongue for any length of time."
Ewan snarled at him.
Pagan grinned at his reaction. "There's what I expected from you. You'll tolerate no one to insult her. Sounds like love to me."
Ewan grimaced at his words. "You know nothing of it."
"True enough. I know naught of Cupid's arrow and have no wish to be educated. But if I were ever to be stricken by his machinations, I don't think I could just let go of the one who held my interest and see her in another's arms. I only know how to fight for what I want."
"And have you ever had to?"
He turned darkly serious, his eyes glacial, and in that moment Ewan was glad he wasn't facing the man in battle. There was something very deadly and sinister about Pagan. "Every day of my life."
Ewan's mind flashed to the sight of Isobail rushing toward her lover. The two of them had embraced and kissed.
Dumbfounded, he had watched them until his anger spurred him to attack.
Night after night, he had lain awake wishing he had beaten the knight that day. That he had continued to fight until the man killed him.
But he'd been too heartbroken to breathe.
Thank you, Ewan, Isobail had said coldly, her eyes icy as she regarded his beaten and bloody form. Without you, I'd still be locked in the Highlands with no hope of ever seeing Gilbert again.
Her lover had thanked him then, never knowing what Isobail had promised Ewan if he would help her, and the two of them had laughed as Gilbert's men escorted him out.
In the end, he had consoled himself with the knowledge that a woman so faithless and cruel, who could use her body to lure both him and Kieran, would never be true to the knight. Gilbert would come to learn her as they had.
God have mercy on him then.
Ewan sighed.
Life was ever confusing to him. Nora wasn't faithless. He knew that. She'd never used her body to get her way.
But she had given herself to him.
How he wished he had one of his brothers there to talk to.
Nay, he wished he had Kieran there to talk to.
His gut twisted as he remembered the last time they had been together.
"She doesn't love you!"
"She loves me, Kieran. Accept it."
They had fought like lions, trying to shred each other until Braden had come between them and pried them apart.
"You are brothers!" Braden had snapped. "Would you let a woman come between you?"
Ewan had wiped the blood from his face and glared angrily at Kieran. "You've never loved any woman more than a few weeks. You can have any woman you want. But Isobail loves me. Can't you leave us in peace?"
"How could you ask that after what you've done? She was to be my bride, and you went behind my back to have her. You're not a man, Ewan, you're a sniveling coward."
They had fought more until Lochlan had removed Kieran from the room.
That night, Isobail had come to him and told him that she was leaving.
"If you love me, Ewan, come with me and we can be together forever. We can never stay here in Scotland with your family. They will never forgive us for what we've done. The only chance for happiness we have is in England. Come with me."
Like a fool, he had gone.
It was a mistake he would pay for for the rest of eternity.
Nora sat in the pub with a heavy heart. What would it take to lift Ewan's spirit?
She looked over to Catarina, who had returned from outside with a change of clothes for the night.
"Cat?"
Catarina paused and looked at her.
"Do you know much about men?"
Catarina smiled. "Aye, my lady. I know a great deal about them."
"How do you entice them?"
"All men or just Ewan?"
Nora blushed. "Just Ewan."
Catarina smiled, then crooked her finger for Nora to follow after her. "Let me share with you the secret my mother gave to me. 'Tis guaranteed to win over any man, be he beggar or king. Trust me, Nora. You do as I say and you'll be able to command any man who suits your fancy. Lord Ewan will be powerless against you."
* * *
Chapter 9
« ^ »
Nora spent hours with Catarina as she taught her numerous exotic tricks to entice Ewan with exotic dances. How to roll and undulate her hips in a duplication of Catarina's wild movements.
She felt strangely erotic and womanly as she learned the dance, and she found it hard to believe Cat's mother had taught her all this.
All Nora's mother had ever done was teach her to be circumspect and proper. Her graceful, decorous mother would be possessed of vapors to know Nora was practicing such heathen antics.
But if they would gain her Ewan's notice…
"Will this really work?"
"Trust me," Catarina assured her. "Men are easily led astray by their desires. All you have to do is cater to them, and voilà, they are yours."
"Aye," she said as she thought of Isobail and the grief she had caused him. "It's why Ewan is in so much pain now. Perhaps I shouldn't do this," she said as Catarina dressed her in one of Catarina's low-cut gowns. "My mother always told me that it is evil to tease a man."
"It's only evil if you have no intention of keeping him."
Nora bit her lip. "What if I am unsure yet whether I want him?"
"Are you?"
She hesitated as she thought about the matter. "Aye… nay… maybe?"
Catarina shook her head. "My lady, what more could you want from a man? He is handsome and concerned for you. He looks at you as if his very life hinges on your happiness. I would give aught to have a man dote on me as he does you."
Nora bit her lip in indecision. "Aye, you are right. If I must marry, and I must, I can think of no one I would rather have than Ewan."
"Then why are you fretting?"
"What if he doesn't want me? He likes his quiet solitude, and I am most certainly not quiet."
Catarina tied a thin, gauzy blue veil around Nora's waist. "I wonder if he likes it so much or if he is just used to it."
Nora frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I just wonder if he chose it because he liked it or if it was forced upon him by others."
Catarina stepped away and swept a critical gaze over her.
"Perhaps," Nora concurred. "I said as much to him myself, but he never commented on if it was true or not."
Nora paused as Catarina moved to style her hair. "Why are you helping me, Cat? You should be scandalized by what we're doing, not participating in it."
Catarina smiled at that. "Life is short, Nora. Like my mother before me, I believe in seizing what you want while you're young enough to enjoy it. All we have to console us in old age is happy memories, and I want my fair share of them. Ewan needs you. I can see it in his eyes. You make him laugh when nothing else does. How can that be wrong?"
Nora sighed at the thought of his deep, rumbling laugh. "He has beautiful laughter, doesn't he?"
"Aye,
and a smile to match it."
Nora's heart fluttered as she remembered Ewan's tentative smile. The way his face looked when it softened.
He was a gorgeous man.
"Oh Catarina, I hope you are right. I never anticipated liking him, especially not after the way I met him while he was drunk in his cave. I thought he was a great, nasty beast. But he's so much more than that."
Catarina laced ribbons in her hair. "What made you seek him out?"
"My maid suggested it. She said only a MacAllister would have the ability to get me to England. She said they would have the connections that would allow them to transport me to my aunt without my father's interference."
"You must have been scared."
"A little," she confessed. "It helped that my maid talked one of my father's men into going with us. He balked at first, then conceded. He said if I was bound to go, better he keep an eye on me than I be harmed. If anyone ever learned he'd known about my flight and I was hurt while escaping, they would hold him responsible."
"True, no doubt."
Nora stared at the floor as her mind replayed everything that had happened to her since she started her quest to flee Scotland.
The miracle she had found in Ewan. A man who listened to her.
A man who touched her heart and her soul.
Almost everyone else she'd ever known had merely humored her while ignoring her questions. She would start to speak, and a glazed look would quickly come over them.
Ewan never had that look.
He always appeared interested in her and what she had to say.
But would he ever allow her to stay with him? If what Sorcha said was true, he would spend the rest of his life alone, trying to make amends to his brother's ghost.
"Cat? Do you think it's possible to get Ewan to…" She trailed off, unable to say anything more.
The thought of losing him was just too painful.
"To what?"
"Nothing. 'Twas a bit of foolishness."
Catarina stood back and looked her over. "You're perfect. A complete vision."
She handed Nora a handheld looking glass.
Nora stared at herself. Her hair had been swept up and left to fall haphazardly around her face. Catarina had added kohl to her eyes and henna to her lips.
She looked strange and ethereal.
"Think you Ewan will like it?"
"There's only one way to find out."
Ewan lay in silence on the too small bed, missing the sound of Nora's voice. Strange that he should now find the quiet night oppressive when he had always taken solace in it.
The stillness rang in his ears and made his heart heavy as he imagined what Nora would be saying if she were there with him.
He held the lute in his hands and smiled at the memory of her practicing with it. She so loved this worthless piece of wood.
How he wished he could have bought her one worthy of her devotion.
A fine lute made of good rosewood and polished to a fine sheen with gold frets and beautiful carvings.
Listless with his want of her, Ewan idly strummed it. He'd tried earlier to give it to her, but Catarina had shooed him away from their room, telling him they couldn't be disturbed.
Somewhat stung, he'd left and had missed her ever since.
How could that be? He'd lived the whole of his life without her, so why now did he find an hour without her hard to bear?
He toyed with the strings, his thoughts drifting, his body aching.
A knock sounded on his door.
"Come in."
He expected to see one of the men, but it was Nora who opened his door.
His heart stopped. She wore a shimmery pale gown that clung to her soft curves. The material was so light that when she walked, it slid up to reveal her bare feet and ankles.
Her pale blond hair looked sublime caught up on her head. It looked as if it were ready to tumble down around her shoulders at any moment.
He couldn't breathe as he stared at her, his mouth gaping. She looked like some fey creature come to capture him, and at the moment, he could think of nothing better than being ensnared by her.
"Play for me?" she asked.
Ewan managed to close his mouth and did as she asked.
To his dismay and delight, she began to dance to the music. And it wasn't just any dance. She rolled her hips and moved her arms like some Saracen courtesan.
She was all fluid grace as she spun about the room. The skirt of her dress flared out, showing her legs off to perfection. His heartbeat hinged on every move she made, every gesture.
His body erupted into fire as he watched her He needed her in a way that made him burn from the inside out.
"Where did you learn to do that?" His voice sounded strange even to his own ears.
Her face falling, she paused. "Cat taught me Do you not like it?"
He nodded as he struggled for breath. "Aye, lass. I like it. A lot."
She smiled at him and started dancing again And as she danced, she started pulling off panels of the dress…
Ewan's throat went dry.
She lifted the hem of her skirt and crawled up on top of his bed to rest on her knees. Och, how she looked wild and wanton there. Like some manifestation of his dreams.
Not real, but a fey creation sent to torment him.
She pulled off another section of the dress and wrapped it around his neck, then used it to pull him close enough for her to kiss him.
Ewan moaned at the taste of her as every piece of him screamed out for the lady before him.
She was unlike anyone else on this earth.
He tossed the lute aside and gathered her forcefully into his arms.
Drunk with her sweet floral scent, he buried his head between the deep valley of her breasts so that he could taste the creamy skin.
She pulled at his shirt until he shrugged it off.
Nora hissed as she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, where she flexed her hand over his muscles. "I love the way you look."
He felt the same way.
She placed her hands on his biceps. "Now move your arms."
He did, and she bit her lip as if in the throes of pure sexual bliss.
"I'm not doing anything, Nora."
"I know, but the way your muscles feel…" She purred at him.
He shook his head in wonderment of her.
She laced her hands through his hair and nibbled his lips. How he loved the way this woman kissed him. The way she looked at him as if he were the only man in the world to her.
She pushed him back on the bed and straddled his waist. "Tell me how to please you."
"You do that just by being with me."
She smiled. "Do I?"
He nodded.
Her smile widened as she rubbed herself against his swollen groin. He groaned at the feel of her there and imagined how much better she would soon feel as he removed his trewes.
"Is there nothing else I can do?"
"That is a good start, my love." He reached up and unlaced her dress until her breasts were free to his starving gaze.
Ewan held her close, his heart pounding.
How strange, the only place he'd ever felt at home was in her arms. She made him feel warm and welcomed.
No one else had ever offered him so much.
Marry her.
How he wished he could. But he didn't know who she was. Who her family was.
Does it matter?
Aye, it could. Politics was a large part of his family's life, and any decision he made would affect all of them. Even the simple act of running off with Isobail had caused a feud that had killed countless members of their clan.
That feud had taken the lives of almost all his sister-in-law's brothers. It had caused years of deaths and property waste. Total devastation.
He wasn't free to just pick a lass and marry her.
Everything he did could have a major impact on his clan and his brothers' lives.
And yet e
ven though he knew that, he couldn't bring himself to get out of this bed and leave her. She was like some missing part of himself.
A vital part of himself.
Nora watched Ewan's face as he pulled back from their kiss to look down at her. His arms were braced on each side of her, and he stared at her as if trying to memorize her face.
There was a dark, deep sadness to him tonight. One that seemed more severe than the other times she had seen that look on his face.
"What is on your mind, my lord, that you look as if the Second Coming is upon you?"
"Tell me who you are, Nora. Who is your family?"
"Does it matter so much? Can I not be a peasant?"
"Are you?"
"If I said aye, would you toss me out?"
He ran his forefinger over the arch of her brow and studied her face as if he were trying to discern the truth.
"Nay," he breathed, "I would not."
"Then pretend I am peasant born. Let me be a gypsy like Catarina with no family ties to bind me."
"And when your father finds you?"
Her throat tightened at the thought of her father's fury over her absence.
I wish you to marry Ryan, Nora. He'll make you a fine husband…
Even now she flinched at the thought of what her future might hold.
Nay, she would run until she died.
She would never submit to Ryan. Not like this. She refused to share her body with him while it was Ewan she loved.
No one but Ewan would ever touch her like this. Only he could fill her…
She froze as she realized what she had just thought.
She loved Ewan MacAllister.
Nora loved everything about him. Even that harsh, furious frown that he wore so often.
She never wanted to leave him, and yet she dare not admit it to him.
He couldn't welcome the news. That much she was sure of.
"I have no wish to think on that, Ewan," she whispered. "Especially not while I'm with you. Let me love you, my lord. For tonight, stay with me and pretend that we have no families. Pretend there aren't any obligations or fear for either one of us. No past. No future. There is only now. Just me and you, and nothing else."
Ewan trembled at her words. He trembled at the warmth of her soft woman's body contoured to the hardness of his own. Her stomach was feather-soft against his erection. Her hands were tender on his shoulders.
Taming the Scotsman Page 16
