She strolled down and away from the castle, alone and unaware of anything around her. As she did, her thoughts turned to the last time she’d seen Alan.
She’d been seventeen, and he’d been nearly a grown man. There was a celebration of the birth of the stable master Wallace’s first grandson taking place at the keep. The great hall of Kentillie had been bursting with people drinking and singing and shoving into each other. It had been too much for her, so she’d escaped to one of her favorite places, the stables. No one was there that night.
She was talking to one of the horses that had become jittery with the uncommon quiet of the night when a figure walked in through the door and strolled past the stalls. Alan.
Her heart raced with the excitement that coursed through her veins anytime she found herself in his presence. Earlier in the day, she’d had a conversation with her friend Donella about her feelings. Donella told her it was time to let Alan know how she felt, and she agreed.
“Good night,” she said to the horse, giving it a soft pet on the muzzle then turning to leave the stall. This was her chance because lately, Alan was always with either Lachlan or Malcolm.
When she emerged from the stall in front of him, he gave her a small smile, but his shoulders sagged and no joy reached his eyes. Actually, he didn’t really even look at her. He was off somewhere else as he skirted around her and kept going.
She’d never seen him look so sad, and her heart ached to reach out to him. His hands shook. It was hard to make out in the low light of the stables, but there appeared to be blood dripping down his knuckles.
Taking a few quick steps to catch him, she reached out for his arm. He flinched and drew back to strike as if he was expecting the devil, but he stilled when he realized it was her.
She pulled his hand up to inspect it. It was blood. She tenderly touched it. “What happened?”
“’Twas just a brawl. ’Twill be all right.” He tried to pull away and keep walking, but she held him.
“I-I have been wanting to tell ye something.” Her voice caught as she tripped on the words that would lay her soul naked before him.
“Can it wait, brat?” She should have kenned then, should have stopped, should have run, but she had been young and foolish.
“Nae, Alan, I’ve waited too long.” Her thundering heart wouldn’t let her back down now.
Reaching with her free hand, she rested it on his cheek. He shuddered and closed his eyes, seeming to lean in to her touch. Taking the caress of his soft flesh in her palm as encouragement, as a sign that he welcomed her affections, she pressed on.
Her eyes stung and threatened to run over, even at the memory now. She thought she had moved on, believed her heart safe, but even these last couple years with the Macnabs had not relieved the pressure. It had been hidden beneath the surface waiting to bubble up and seize her again.
The rest of that fateful night played through her head. There, in the middle of her sanctuary, her gaze had met his, and she thought they held desire. But now Kirstie knew she had been too inexperienced to comprehend what she had seen.
“I love ye, Alan.” Her confession was shaky, because it had come from the too-tall girl with no figure and no confidence. His breath seemed to hitch, but he said nothing. She moved closer and rose up on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his lips. They both stilled.
His arms wound around her and crushed her to his muscled chest. His lips were moving over hers, and she did her best to match the caress. His tongue jutted out and delved between her lips.
Gasping in surprise, she quickly recovered. He was honey and male and everything she had ever wanted. Letting her own tongue duel with his, she thought he groaned, and his grasp around her waist tightened.
The moment was gone just as quickly. Withdrawing, he grabbed both of her shoulders while holding her stiffly at arm’s length. His fingers dug sharply into her skin. “This cannae ever happen again.”
Her body closed in on itself as his words slapped her, causing a numb tingling to erupt somewhere deep inside, and if he’d not been holding her, she was certain she would have fallen. Her tongue was frozen, her breath lost or stolen.
“Kirstie, do ye understand?”
She didn’t, but she nodded anyway, not really knowing what she was agreeing to.
“I could never do this to Lachlan. He’s the closest thing I have to family, my brother. Ye are like a sister to me.”
Her body started to vibrate as chills extended from her chest to her fingertips. He had rejected her. Not only that, he thought of her as nothing more than family.
If a heart could crack, hers was bleeding and leaking out into every cavity of her body. She was like the cook’s cat the time an overzealous dog bounded toward it, unmoving and waiting for the impact, for the rest of her world to end.
And then it happened. Letting go, he turned and, without another sound, stalked away. Numbly, she watched as his long lean legs carried him and her dreams out through the back door of the stable. She stumbled back to the stall she’d been in with the lonely horse. Collapsing into the straw in the corner, she curled up into a ball and let the pain drown her in darkness.
The next day, she had been able to convince her mother and Lachlan that she should go to Blair’s for an extended visit. Receiving a request the week previously from her cousin begging for her to come for a visit and help tend some ill horses, she jumped at the chance to flee her humiliation.
Then, every time Lachlan and her mother would come to see her, she found a way to stay when they insisted she return. She was pretty certain at this point that her oldest brother had guessed why she was reluctant to return. Each time Alan’s name was mentioned, she either left the room or changed the subject.
She’d not been able to keep the truth from her mother because she had the uncanny ability to read anyone. She and Blair were the only two people who knew of her secret shame.
Her life had meaning again, and she didn’t need that infuriating Highlander. The Macnab stables had been in disarray when she’d made it to their lands, unhealthily dirty stalls and dingy, putrid water the previous caregivers didn’t refresh near enough, equipment not cleaned, and the beasts treated poorly. Only losing a couple of the ill horses that had been too far gone upon her arrival, she had saved the rest and convinced the Macnab laird to let her take over as their stable master.
Those horses were her life now, and she couldn’t see herself anywhere else, despite the knowledge she would have to find a husband once Blair married. She didn’t want to be near a man who didn’t want her, especially one with gray eyes the color of tumultuous Highland skies before the heavens unleashed a summer storm.
Kirstie continued to explore, coming to an old abbey whose outbuildings lay peacefully moldering in the late afternoon sun. They were deserted, but not eerie, just sad. It had been such a beautiful place, but the walls had crumbled and left a shell of what it had once been.
This temple had been built to hold the hearts of its Catholic worshipers, just like she had set herself up to be the keeper of Alan’s heart, the protector of his soul, and the person he would come home to at night. She was just like this forsaken place. Despite the distance she had put between Alan and her, there had been no way to outrun the desolation that had been left by his rejection.
She’d heard stones of the cloisters had been ripped down and were used to add onto the castle high on the hill. The roof of the nave was still intact and the beautiful arched windows and doors inspired awe, but it felt like a cold, empty tomb. Had Alan found someone else and given that lucky lass the pieces of his heart, the ones she had so desperately wanted?
Her feet felt heavy as she climbed the hill back to the castle. Dread filled every step as she planned out the evening ahead, determined to make progress on her quest.
…
Sending Blair ahead with a story that she would skip the meal tonight due to women’s problems, Kirstie bided her time until Malcolm’s guards outside her door disappear
ed. ’Twas for the best, because the main course might be a better time to sneak into the Earl of Argyll’s room.
Slinking toward the other side of the castle, she stuck to the shadows and did her best to avoid being seen. She had brought several different tools to try this time, determined that damn lock would open for her. Standing in the darkened hall yet again, her hands shook and her heart beat so fast she could feel it in her ears.
The hairpins proved to be too weak, bending as she fidgeted with them in the small hole. The wooden knitting needle she’d found in one of the antechambers rewarded her with a solid click on the first try. Finally breathing, she stood to check the hall before turning the knob and backing silently into the room.
This was one of the larger chambers, and despite the earlier warmth of the sunny day, peat blazed in the fireplace to keep the evening chill from the room. It supplied ample light but did nothing to sate the fear that kept her eyes darting around the deep shadows of the stone corners. Slinking over to the desk, her fingers trembled as she rifled through the papers scattered on the smooth wooden surface.
Maps detailing different areas of the Highlands and letters about commissioning men to fight for the Covenanters, names she didn’t recognize, blurred as she strained to focus in on any imminent threat, and it wasn’t long before she found her eyes watering at the lines of the letters and intricate details on the maps. Rifling through the drawers, she discovered the rest of the documents all had to do with crops and cattle.
Resisting the urge to throw all the documents into the fire just to thwart any undiscoverable evil plans they contained, she pushed back from the desk, deciding it was best not to alert the Covenanters to someone searching their rooms. Letting out a frustrated breath, she scanned the surroundings; it dawned on her that she should have guessed there would be nothing incriminating in his room. The earl was a cautious man. This had all been a huge waste of time.
The lock clicked in the door, and she inhaled sharply. Kirstie fell to her knees and rolled under the desk. She focused on controlling her breath. One little sound could get her discovered. What was the penalty for breaking into the Earl of Argyll’s room? Surely, she would be put in prison, and she couldn’t save her brothers from the dungeon.
She didn’t hear another sound, but the fire exposed a large shadow that could only be a man. It moved toward the desk, and a hand clasped onto her arm, dragging her out from under the wooden structure.
“What do ye think ye are doing?”
Fear almost turned to annoyance when she realized the voice was Alan’s.
He didn’t give her time to answer as he yanked her across the room and to the other side of the chamber in an instant. Opening the door, he peeked out into the hall. He must have liked their chances, because he dragged her from the room and shut the door. Thankful she was tall and didn’t have to strain to keep up, they’d taken three large strides in the direction of Malcolm’s room when the sound of boots marched down the hall.
Alan’s arm still latched onto her like an eagle that had captured its prey. He stopped and spun her around, backing her harshly to the wall. She inhaled sharply at the impact. He stood over her with his arms on the walls beside her head in a fierce protective stance. Trembling, her hands locked onto Alan’s sides. His warmth was reassuring, but the tempo of his steady heartbeat thrummed into her fingertips. The rhythm of her own faltered at his close proximity.
“Hell, they’re going to see ye.” His gaze darted from the sound and back to her.
As the clacking cadence of the approaching threat neared, she spared a glance down the hall to see how close the man was, but Alan’s position blocked her view. When she glanced back, something had shifted in his eyes, and her inhalation of air lodged in her throat, the bodice of her gown becoming tight and restrictive as her chest swelled.
In the scant light of the hall, she imagined his eyes had darkened and dilated. Was it fear or hunger she saw there? Maybe both. Shuddering, her lips parted to let in the air that refused to reach her lungs.
She froze as his hands came down to clasp both of her cheeks, again seeming to hide her face from the newcomer. One thumb traced her lips as his breathing became heavy. She, on the other hand, couldn’t breathe as his head dipped closer.
Damn, he was going to kiss her.
Her body heated and her chin tilted up, lips parted to give him easy access. No, he was going to destroy her. But right now she didn’t care. Exhilaration rushed through her as she realized she was going to let him do what he wanted. Awareness and desire claimed her as his head dipped, and it became too late to protest as his lips covered hers.
She had kissed other men since her first kiss with him, so this time she thought she would be prepared when his tongue swept into her mouth. Yes, she had had other kisses, but none of them had made her come undone the way his did. None made her forget the world around her like his caress.
Surrendering, she gave everything to him. All the years of pent-up longing and frustration manifested in such stark need that her body took control and left her logical side reeling at how easy she succumbed to his touch. Her hands slid higher to curl around thick arms and grabbed on, pulling him closer. His tongue tangled and played with hers, and she thought she would explode with the feelings that were ignited deep in her chest.
Everything disappeared except him and this embrace. He groaned into her mouth, and her fingers skimmed up to his neck to thread their way to thick tresses that slid through her hands like French silk. They tightened in the shoulder length tendrils at the base of his neck as she slanted her head to the side to give him better access.
Alan leaned into her, crushing her between the solid wall of his chest and the stone behind her. It didn’t hurt, it was real and warm, and it felt right. As they continued to kiss, her body became heated and needy, an ache growing in her, and she knew this kiss wouldn’t be enough.
“Take her to a room.” Some deep male voice jested from behind as she became aware of the boots as they continued past them and down the hall.
Alan froze, hands unmoving on her cheeks, pulled back and rested his head on hers as he continued to shield her from the view of the passing man.
No, screamed a voice deep inside her head, no, no, no, please don’t stop.
A click sounded and then a soft thud of a door closing.
Kirstie fought to control her breath as Alan stayed still, face near enough she could smell sage on his ragged breath. Pressed so close, she could feel his heart pounding. It was a rhythm that called to the deepest part of her and spoke to feeling long buried. The thumping beat played the notes she had yearned for but not found until now. His head nuzzled into hers, and he spoke softly into her ear, “Are ye trying to get yerself killed?”
Her body was still reeling from the passion he had awoken in her. All she could do was shake her head.
His voice became hoarse and raw. “Dinnae ever let me catch ye doing something so foolish again. Ye willnae be able to sit for a year.”
Anger had seeped into his words, and the pleasure she’d felt was replaced by a bone-numbing chill. He straightened and retreated. Now, her limbs were cold as well. More boots clambered down the hall, but she didn’t look. Her eyes were fixated on the flames she saw dancing in Alan’s eyes. For a moment, she dared to think they were filled with need for her, but then they flickered and all she saw was irritation.
Her wobbly limbs were difficult to peel from the wall, but she forced herself to move because she didn’t have to listen to him. Sticking her nose up in the air, she attempted to move gracefully toward the stairs.
“Kirstie.” He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward Malcolm’s door. Even that touch set sparks ablaze on her skin, and she wanted to cry from the sheer frustration of it. After inserting a key into the lock, he pushed in the door, drawing her in behind him and shutting it with a soft clunk. “Ye have no business playing games with Argyll. What did ye think ye were doing?” Fury was evident in the soft hiss of his whi
spered words, and her gaze drifted down to avoid his penetrating eyes.
“Kirstie, what are ye doing up here?” Malcolm asked from a corner of the room. She gulped, thankful he’d made his presence known before she’d been forced to make up some unbelievable lie and annoy Alan further.
“I need an escort to the hall. Blair is already there without me.” She avoided Alan’s eyes and tried to pull free from his grip, but his fingers didn’t budge.
“Aye, of course. I am on my way there right now,” her brother said.
Alan said, “I just caught Kirstie breaking into Argyll’s room. Dinnae let her out of yer sight tonight.” Something passed between them in some shared code she wasn’t privy to.
Releasing her, he stalked over and whispered something to Malcolm. Why would the two be keeping secrets?
Malcolm said something inaudible, then both gazes shot in her direction. “What were ye thinking, Kirstie?”
’Twas thinking I would save yer life, she thought, but she held her tongue.
“Ye shouldnae be seen here.” She was about to protest when she saw Malcolm’s brows rise as he gazed at Alan, not her.
Alan nodded and turned. Opening the door, he peered out as if checking to make sure the hall was abandoned then retreated without another word.
“Why can he no’ be seen here?” She turned her gaze to her younger brother and tried to forget the tingling sensation still humming on her swollen lips.
The kiss had meant nothing to him, and he had shredded her heart again, interrupting her quest for answers in the process. Well, maybe he had actually helped her, because she wasn’t sure if the man who had spoken to them in the hall went into the earl’s room or another. She had been so wrapped up in how Alan’s embrace had felt like home and mist on a hot day that she hadn’t cared.
“Dinnae worry with that,” Malcolm answered. “’Tis best if Alan doesnae appear to take sides during these negotiations.”
They were keeping secrets.
Her brother broke into her thoughts. “Ye have some explaining to do. Mayhap I should send ye back home to let Lachlan deal with ye.” Shaking his head, he started for the door, opening it and nodding for her to exit. She stopped as he turned to lock the door, then he proceeded down the hall without her.
Highland Temptation (Highland Pride) Page 5
