by Mary Wine
She could, and it pleased her in a way she had never thought of before. The urge to slide her hand along the ridges of hard muscles covering his chest was gaining strength, undermining her determination to remain unmoved. In another few moments, she’d be nothing but a servant of her cravings.
“Fine. I’ll ride with ye.”
His eyes narrowed, and the grip on her nape tightened just a bit.
“So release me, and I’ll accept yer invitation.”
He grunted, frustration clear in his expression. But he complied, opening his embrace to allow her free.
“I think ye are toying with me, Nareen.”
She grasped her mare’s bridle and began to lead her from the stable. “No more than ye are with me, Laird MacLeod.”
She was sure truer words had never been spoken.
He chuckled, sending a blush onto her cheeks. “Which only proves what a fine match we’d be.”
It only proved how well he could find her weaknesses. She should turn around. It would be the sensible thing to do, but she didn’t. The night was warm enough and the air so fresh. A smile curved her lips, and she simply didn’t have the strength to turn her back on the freedom she’d find in a night ride.
At least riding was a weakness she might indulge in.
But she would have to make certain it was the only weakness she allowed to be fed tonight.
***
Nareen didn’t wait for him.
She made her way through the yard as Saer readied his stallion to ride. He might have caught up to her easily, but he trailed behind her. Perhaps stalk was a better word, for it fit his feelings better.
She was going to use his name before the dawn.
It was a possessive thought, one he really had no business thinking. Nareen didn’t belong to him, and she was a virtuous woman. Although riding out in the dark of night didn’t fit the ideals of virtue. At least not for the more civilized—which he was not.
Yet neither was Nareen.
Saer made his way through the open gate and swung up onto his stallion’s back. Beyond the walls of the castle was the village, but Nareen didn’t ride toward the flickering lights. She headed into the dark, where the starlight reflected off the stones.
He enjoyed the surge of anticipation warming his blood and grinned.
Savage. Aye, he was that. But Nareen Grant was wild, which made her his match. He was looking forward to running her to ground, and the lass was going to enjoy it. That was his solemn vow.
Two
For a brief moment, Nareen was able to ignore everything. She was immersed in the feeling of the horse moving beneath her and the way the wind ripped at her hair, making her smile.
But she heard Saer closing the distance between them.
His stallion had heavier steps, and her mare let out a shrill cry before moving faster. Nareen leaned low, hugging the sides of the horse with her thighs and moving in unison with her.
The sounds of the stallion came closer. Anticipation tingled along her nape, raising the tiny hairs and rippling down her spine. She’d never realized she might feel so much sensation from just knowing a man was near.
With Saer, she felt his presence keenly. The darkness seemed to be intensifying the connection between them. The urge to look behind her was impossible to ignore. She turned her head and caught a glimpse of him.
He was magnificent. Like some legend from eras past.
His hair was held back with a thin braid along the left side of his face, telling one and all he’d been born outside the bonds of matrimony.
It suited him.
There was nothing about him that fit into the model of what civilization lived by.
She drank in the details of his rugged physique. Strength radiated from him, hitting her like a gust of wind. He surged past, taking the lead. In the night, stallion and master were like living shadows. He rode hard, out across Ross land, until the fortress was out of sight. Nareen never ventured so far, but she had no fear tonight. In fact, she felt freer than she could recall ever feeling. Saer slowed and shook his head, letting the stallion rear up and paw at the night sky.
She laughed, the sound silvery and refreshing. Her mare slowed, her strength spent as she covered the last few paces to where Saer’s stallion was prancing in a small circle. Saer kept the beast under control, his bare knees pressed into its sides to keep himself firmly in the saddle, but he didn’t force the animal to stand still.
He clearly understood the creature’s nature. In fact, she was sure he shared it. Both were powerful and unsatisfied by stillness.
“Come, lass, let’s rinse the ride off our skin.”
His words confused her until she realized the roaring she heard was the sound of water nearby. She suddenly became aware of how sweaty she was, and the idea of bathing was pleasing. At least it was until she looked up to see Saer leading the way.
Her mare was already in motion, following the stallion. Saer never looked back. She watched the moonlight turn him silver as he sat strong and proud in the saddle.
She tightened her hands on the reins, beginning to pull up. The mare let out a disgruntled nicker, making it clear she wanted to follow the stallion.
The reason was plain.
Nareen found herself envying the mare. The animal had far more freedom than she did. For the horses, the instinct to touch was not wicked, yet it was for her.
Or was it?
The question was a valid one. There was no one about to stop her from doing whatever she wished. Saer MacLeod might be a savage, but he was also one of the few men she didn’t have to worry about running home to her brother with tales of her behavior and how it didn’t fit what society expected of her. Besides, she did not even have to fear the loss of her reputation—no one thought her a maiden any longer, even though she was.
Freedom. Wasn’t that what she craved? Saer was offering it.
That much was also true. He wanted something as well. Still, she was as tempted by him as she was weary of pretenses. So weary. Saer offered her the one thing she craved above all others, the opportunity simply to be as she liked.
Now that was true freedom. It was an offer she’d never had from another human being, except for her brother, Kael, when they were young. The memory shimmered, gleaming with the allure of a time when she was the happiest she had ever been.
Saer tempted her in more ways than she’d ever imagined possible.
The water was spilling over a large outcropping of boulders. It cascaded down into a pool that was several dozen feet across, before flowing down the side of the valley. The moon was half hidden behind the clouds, but the faint silver light still turned the surface of the water into a mirror. Ripples disturbed its surface as the water continued to pound down.
Saer took a moment to survey the entire area, scanning the far shore of the small pond and the top of the waterfall. Once he was satisfied they were alone, he dismounted near the water’s edge, smoothing his hand along his stallion’s neck, then removing the bridle. The animal shook its head, making its mane bounce, then lowered its head to graze.
Saer pulled off his sword and leaned it against a rock. The trees had thinned out near the shoreline. He leaned against a boulder and began to unlace one of his knee-high boots. Nareen slid from the back of her mare and removed the bridle so the mare might graze as well. The horses moved off, slowly nibbling at the grass.
Saer’s second boot hit the ground, and he reached for the tail of his wide belt.
He opened the belt holding his kilt around his waist and caught the length of pleated fabric with a practiced hand. He draped it over the boulder.
“There is a tub in the kitchen.”
He shook his head and pulled his shirt off. Her mouth went dry as the starlight washed over every hard inch of him. All of the str
ength she’d felt through the layers of their clothing was there to behold.
“I’m not a babe to be washed in a tub like a dirty dish.”
He certainly wasn’t.
Every bit of him was molded and chiseled. Her gaze roamed along his shoulders and chest, and farther down, to his flat belly.
She jerked her attention away. “Ye have no shame,” she accused, but she was breathless.
“What I have is no use for nonsense, preached by those who have always been fortunate enough to have a bathing tub. It’s simple enough for them to tell ye it is a sin to make use of what nature provides. The way I see it, God created this world, so wouldn’t it be a sin to shun what he has crafted?” Saer pulled something from the surface of the rock and started walking toward the water. “I’ll clean me body here, nae sitting in me own filth. All I need is this bar of soap.”
He lifted his hand holding the soap, and continued on into the water.
“Ye had no right to have me follow ye here, when ye planned all the time to…to…”
He stepped into the water, wading until he dove straight into the pool. His body glided through the water smoothly, making her skin itch to enjoy the same thing.
He surfaced and began to rub the bar of soap along his body. “Ye can turn around if yer gentle sensibilities are too bruised, Nareen.”
“Do nae be ridiculous.” The words just slipped out, earning a chuckle from him.
“As I thought, ye are concerned only because ye are tempted to join me.”
He stood waist deep in the water, the dark liquid hiding the part of him she’d shied away from looking at. She regretted that now. It was easier to fear the unknown.
She’d learned that under her cousin’s rule.
“Are ye trying yer hand at gentling me?” Suspicion coated her words. “Bringing me along and allowing me to see ye in yer private moments so I’ll become more accustomed to ye?”
He shrugged, drawing her gaze to his powerful shoulders again.
“Ye’re a woman fully grown, lass… What I want to know is what sort of woman do ye plan to be? One who lives her life squeezing her eyes shut, or one who dances into the shadows simply because they are there. I suppose there is some truth in yer words, but consider this. What other man would care to put ye at ease when all he need do is gain yer brother’s approval to have ye?”
“Why did ye no’?”
He stared at her, and she felt the connection just as keenly as she would have his touch. “Me sire’s wife was a cringing coward. I remember her weeping in the hallways, unable to look her husband in the eye.”
“She was English.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “And she never adjusted to being wed to a Highlander. All she gave him was one fae-like daughter, but at least me sister, Daphne, has her father’s spirit. The MacLeod deserve better than another mistress who cannae stand with her chin held high.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she did not want to be his wife.
But she quelled the urge. To insult him for the sake of arguing was childish. He deserved more than that from her. Aye, he was arrogant, but he was not a brute. At least he hadn’t proved to be yet. But her brother could have contracted her to him without a single word from her on the matter. As a laird’s daughter, she’d been raised to expect to wed for her clan’s benefit. Saer claimed to have permission to court her, and she had been foolish enough not to question what else Kael had agreed to.
Leaving the Ross castle so far behind suddenly seemed a poor choice.
Suspicion flooded her, and she looked at him.
He was working the soap along his chest, and she found herself wanting to do the chore for him. The brief moments she’d felt his hard chest seemed too long ago. She craved another opportunity to discover what his skin was like when in contact with her own.
He looked up, holding her gaze, and grinned. She paused, a memory surfacing of leering faces peering down at her. Her fingers froze as her cousin’s voice invaded the moment.
Nareen shuddered, a horrified gasp escaping her lips. Even now, it felt like their gazes had left a dirty smear on her skin. She was caught in the memory, feeling the way she’d felt trapped in her tiny cell-like chamber. The moments feeling endless until her cousin guided her clients away to look at another girl because they declined to pay the price her cousin put on Nareen’s maidenhead.
A girl less fortunate than Nareen had been that night.
But she still heard the bar being shoved down on the other side of the chamber door to make sure she was there when another buyer arrived.
A wet hand cupped her chin, bringing her attention back to the moment.
“Stay here with me, lass. The past belongs where it is.”
The feeling of his skin was firm and exactly what she needed. The past was a ghost, one she refused to be chained to.
“Aye.” She yanked the lace that held her bodice closed free with more force than was necessary, pulling the knot up so that she might loosen it. She needed to prove she would not be ruled by Ruth or any of her bad memories.
But she still shied away from disrobing facing Saer. She turned her back on him and forced herself to continue disrobing.
He’d seen a woman’s form before.
She was the same as other women.
Her arguments didn’t really reinforce her confidence. Hearing him step back into the water did. The tiny splashing sound gave her enough courage to pull free the lace that held her bodice closed. The moment she did, the fronts sagged beneath the weight of her breasts. They felt swollen, her nipples tingling as they drew tight. She tossed her bodice aside and opened her skirts. Her dress was simpler than Abigail’s, with only one set of skirts secured to a single waistband. Once it was open, she untied the small, padded bolster that went around her hips to save her back from the weight of the wool, and it all dropped down to her ankles.
When she stepped free, her chemise fluttered in the breeze. She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the temperature. The heat rising inside her was wild and uncontrollable, but it also bolstered her courage.
“The water is refreshing, Nareen…” His voice was edged with temptation. She reached for her braid and delayed turning around as she worked the strands free. A few years ago, she’d dreamed of meeting her groom with her hair flowing as proof of her virginity. Of course, that was before her reputation was tarnished.
So it didn’t matter what she did tonight. At least not to anyone except herself and Saer.
Besides, if he ravished her, she could at last stop fearing it. That thought filled her with courage. Or maybe it was desperation. But the idea of being free of fear was enough to shed the last of her reservations.
She turned and found him submerged to his chin. The moonlight flashed off his eyes as he watched her. But instead of making her self-conscious, his gaze made her bold. He was the definition of strength, and she was not going to cringe in his sight.
The first touch of the water sent a chill up her leg. She stifled a giggle before plunging her foot all the way in. It was cold only for the first moment. She hurried deeper in and began to swim to accustom herself to the temperature. Within moments, she was comfortable, the cool water soothing. She ducked beneath the surface to wet her hair and smiled when she came up. Until she opened her eyes to find Saer right in front of her.
The smile faded from her lips as their gazes locked. She felt the challenge coming from him and stared straight back. She lifted her chin.
“Are ye satisfied, Laird MacLeod?”
Her tone had turned sultry, stunning her with how wanton she sounded.
“Aye…” He closed the distance between them. “And yet, nae.”
He offered her the bar of soap. Anticipation tingled in her belly as she eyed it. There wasn’t enough light to judge his exp
ression, but she felt he was testing her. She reached out for the soap, curling her fingers around its slippery surface, but he didn’t release immediately. For a moment, their fingers mingled, the soap coating their skin.
She shook her head, not trusting her voice. Being near him was unleashing something untamed inside her that was drawing her closer to him and his unabashed ways. With him, there were no rules to cage her. But that was dangerous.
She tugged on the soap, and he released it.
Dangerous because there was nothing to bind them to each other. Part of her reveled in that idea, but there was still a whisper of caution holding her back. Women who fell from grace did not meet good ends. She swam closer to the shore where she could touch the bottom, and began to wash herself.
“Admit it, Nareen, no tub of well water would please ye so much.”
He’d followed her, standing the same distance from her.
“Ye’re testing me.” She’d stopped short of exposing her breasts to him completely, but the water made it difficult to move quickly. It was both comforting and confining.
“Aye, I am,” he admitted freely.
She turned to eye him, her hand stilling on her arm as she became more focused on his words than her bath. “Why?”
“Strength begets strength.”
She was mesmerized by the way he moved closer and stopped just a foot away from her. She’d never been so completely bare in the presence of a man before, but it was more than their lack of clothing. Saer saw more than most. He stripped away her words and stared at the raw wounds still open across her soul.
“Ye are a survivor.” He plucked the forgotten soap bar from her hand and cupped her shoulder. “So am I.” He turned her away from him and swept her hair over her shoulder before applying the soap to her back. She shivered, the knowledge that she was nude becoming almost overwhelming. “Ye care not for the rules because ye did nae receive the security they promised when ye were compliant.”
“Some would say I am simply making excuses to do as I please. I think they may be partially right,” she warned him. “I am nae obedient.”
