All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  Chapter 16

  Keep your face always toward the sunshine—

  and shadows will fall behind you.

  ~ Walt Whitman

  Vin couldn’t sleep that night and knew it was for reasons other than those that normally plagued him. Nightmares of torture and death would come no doubt if he were able to find slumber, but the waking visions that inundated him tormented in ways that were almost worse. He kept picturing Moira with that Aylesbury fellow. The man he had assumed was her husband. Saw them laughing together, saw Aylesbury with his arms wrapped around her and saw them as he had that morning, staring at each other as the man kissed her and whispered in her ear.

  During the entirety of his ride with Richard and Jack, he was able to think of little else. It was an enormous surprise that morning to learn they weren’t already wed and he had been certain they would marry soon. Until she told him of the other man. The one she never stopped loving. Did Aylesbury know of the man as well? Was that why they hadn’t wed? He could hardly imagine what the fellow was waiting for otherwise because if the marquis had any thoughts like those that were tormenting Vin, then life would not be complete until he bedded her.

  He groaned loudly into the silence of the room. Those were the other thoughts that plagued him. Now that he knew she was there, he couldn’t help but picture Moira lying in her bed in the room above him with her hair loose and spread out on the pillow. Her warms open and a welcoming smile on her sweet lips as she pulled him down to her fragrant, soft body.

  With another tortured groan, he flopped onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow and cursing himself. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts about her. He shouldn’t be imagining her naked body entwined with his.

  She was his friend, one of the closest confidantes he’d ever had. She was his best friend’s sister. He could just imagine Jason coming back from the dead and beating him senseless for having such thoughts of Moira. He needed to banish these images from his mind so he might be able to see her again as just another friend like his brothers or Jack or Jason.

  But, by God, he’d never wanted to treat a friend as he wanted to treat her.

  Throughout the entire afternoon from luncheon on he hadn’t been able to stop devouring her gorgeous body with his eyes. She played chess with Laurie that afternoon and then with Eve. The look of concentration on her face had been entrancing. When he came down for dinner—another with all his siblings present—Moira appeared in a ball gown of golden silk that set her hair ablaze and her skin a blush. The gown thrust her glorious breasts up so far that his hands had itched to cup them, mold them. Feel their heat in his palms.

  Then that Aylesbury reappeared to whisk her off for a night of dancing. He slipped her cloak over her shoulders, kissing the bared skin and caressing her until Vin thought he would be unable to restrain himself from thrashing the fellow. And he knew it would not be for his violation of propriety against his friend’s sister but because he wanted to be the one to do the same.

  God help him, but he was envious and he knew it. Knowing now that she wasn’t even married, that she was a single woman, he wanted to be the one caressing her bared flesh and kissing her long, slim neck. The lust he felt was nearly driving him mad!

  Ugh! He needed a woman!

  Another image of her naked in his arms flooded his mind again and Vin couldn’t hold back the audible groan of frustration. He flipped over to his back and reached down under the blankets to cover his rampant erection with his hand. As he did so he caught a shadow at the door. A moment later Moira herself appeared and he moaned again as she stood framed in the doorway. Her rich red locks were unbound and fell in waves and thick curls down to her waist. Even clad in a sensible bulk of dressing and nightgown against the chill of the winter’s night, her voluptuous curves shadowed in the light of the fire, overemphasizing the dip of her tiny waist and the curve of her breasts and hips.

  How was it possible for a woman of her delicate stature to be so curvaceous? Surely, those breasts would spill over his hands? Vin rubbed his hands over his face hoping that she was merely a vision, a figment of his imagination. That he was only dreaming. If not, at least hoping that she couldn’t see the tented covers in the dim lighting and garner the reason.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Moira jumped at his rough grating voice. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were having another nightmare and came to see if you were all right.”

  He lowered his hands a bit to look at her. “How did you know I have nightmares?”

  “I’ve heard you at night,” she admitted hesitantly. “I’m sorry, I’ll go now.”

  He frowned in chagrin. Just one more weakness she knew of. Soon he wouldn’t be a magnificent hero in her mind any longer but a spineless remnant. It embarrassed him that Moira knew of his restless nights. He thought only Sung Li was aware of the images that troubled him in his sleep. But better, he supposed, to have her know of the nightmares than the other thoughts troubling him. She’d never be comfortable in his presence again if she knew.

  “You’ve heard me before?”

  “It’s how I knew you were home that first night,” she admitted, lingering in the door and staring at his bared chest in fascination.

  Vin pushed himself up onto his elbows and, with the covers down at his waist; she could see the hard ridges of his abdomen as the muscles flexed with his movement. The firelight played in every dip and rise creating a landscape of hills and deep valleys Moira longed to explore. His chest and shoulders, too, were alluring. Perhaps it was only the flickering light but his chest seemed to flex and bulge, and it seemed as if she could see the movement of his heart beating, but surely, it would not be beating so rapidly.

  Hers was though.

  Damn, Harry had been right. She might not be able to picture the marquis in such a setting but she imagined Vin this way a hundred times in her mind. She longed to touch him. To rub her palms over that bared skin and to put her mouth on him as she had seen in the naughty books she had found. He made her want to discover if her body could do all the things and bend in all the ways they had shown. Swallowing deeply, she knew she should turn away, but she couldn’t stop herself from stepping into the room.

  What would he do if she untied her robe and let it fall to the ground, she wondered. What would he do if she went to the bed and crawled up over him?

  He ought to cover his chest lest he offend her, Vin thought, but Moira had seen him thus in years past when they would all swim together in Loch Carron near her family’s home. The sight of a man’s bared chest had never bothered her before, but as he watched as her eyes took him in, felt her gaze race like flames over his flesh, he thought perhaps it bothered him now. She looked like she wanted to eat him up.

  Damn, but it was all his imagination! He knew it. Just wishful thinking. Bloody hell, he needed to cool his blood. Perhaps his brother Jamie would know of a quality establishment where he might see the problem taken care of the next night before this inappropriate lust got out of hand.

  Still she lingered in the doorway and he pushed himself into a sitting position to hide the erection that continued to stir under the covers. She was a friend, he reminded himself. He had even thought her a married woman until that morning. His reaction was appallingly inappropriate.

  “You should go.”

  “I should go,” she whispered in return but instead her body propelled itself a step farther into his bedchamber.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” his voice a bit more desperate now. “If someone were to see you…”

  “No one has before.” Moira bit her lip as the words popped out.

  Vin’s attention was finally drawn away from her breasts as the word sunk in. “Before?”

  “It’s nothing. I’ll go.” She turned.

  “Moira.” Hid voice held a threatening note. “What did you mean before?”

  She turned back reluctantly, admitting, “I’ve come during the night before. Your cries…” she paused w
hen Vin scowled. “Well, the sounds woke me that first night you returned and I was curious what it was. I came here and saw that you were having a nightmare.” She walked slowly back into the room as if to demonstrate. “I intended only to wake you from your torment. I sat on the side of your bed.” She put her softly spoken words into action. “And I put my hand on your forehead. It seemed to calm you so I continued.”

  Vin felt Moira’s soft hand caress his cheek, closing his eyes in denial. “You stayed.”

  “Yes.”

  “And came again the next night? And the next?”

  There was a pause, but then, “Yes.”

  He nearly groaned in humiliation that Moira had nursed him through those tortured nights. That she had seen his weakness…but then, the truth dawned. She was the angel who brought him peace in the nights. He thought it was Scotland, his home! His own success with the meditation.

  But no! He ground his teeth in frustration that he could not even manage a night’s sleep on his own. After all that time with Sung Li and practicing the Qigong, he thought he was learning to control his life. That he was gaining the upper hand on his past.

  That he had found it in himself to conquer the night.

  “You’ve come here every night for a week? Every night since my return?”

  She shook her head. “Not every night.”

  “You didn’t come the night before last.” It was not a question.

  “No.”

  It hadn’t been him at all but the hand of a woman, the gentle touch of a female who turned away the darkness and brought a measure of peace. He slept soundly only when she was present. It was degrading to have thought so much of himself only to have those delusions destroyed, but Vin supposed he should be glad that it had been Moira and not another. She cared for him, he knew. Carried love for him in her heart. He knew she considered him as much a brother as Jason had been.

  He felt he could count on her to bear his burden in silence. He knew he could trust her to keep the truth of his restless nights to herself. She wouldn’t betray him or mock him to the others. Moira understood him better than any other in his life right now. He felt he should be thankful that he had her here to help him heal. She might truly be the closest friend he had right now.

  And he betrayed that friendship with lust and envy. Even now, her gentle touch was soothing him and boiling his blood at the same time. He wanted her, but accepted that he needed her as well, needed her to be his angel of the night. He’d do anything to keep her near. If he needed to conquer one to have the other, he would.

  Vin opened his eyes and nearly had that newly formed resolve dissolve into dust. Her face was close to his as she brushed her fingers down his cheek lightly raking her nails in the day’s growth of whiskers. Her eyes were soft with affection and caring but damn, her lips were tempting!

  “I will stay if it soothes you,” she whispered softly and he nearly choked on a self-disparaging laugh. Was it possible to be soothed and aroused simultaneously?

  “It does,” he couldn’t help but confess though his conscience fought him. “Still, you shouldn’t be in my room. It is hardly proper.”

  “No one knows.”

  “I could not deprive you of your own rest though.” He frowned. “I’m ashamed that I must have been the source of so many sleepless nights.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I do.”

  “I want to help you,” Moira insisted, glorying in the feel of his rough beard against her palm. “I have seen these past few days how your ordeal has made living life difficult.”

  Vin grimaced at the thought of being so transparent even to Moira.

  “I’m sick and tired of it, frankly,” he admitted. “I feel as if everyone walks on eggshells around me fearing to awaken the beast.”

  “I know,” she hummed quietly. “I would give anything to help you make those moments a thing of the past…including a few sleepless nights.”

  “Moira, I…”

  He could reason and argue with her all night but in the end, he knew he wanted her there with him. He hadn’t been honest with himself about much in his life. He had always been better at denying his failings than facing them. Anything to make life drift along more gently but he supposed that this was the moment that recognizing his inadequacy would grant him what he wanted most. The irony almost made him laugh aloud.

  “Oh, bugger it!” he relented. “Turn about then while I put a shirt on.”

  “You needn’t…”

  “Aye, I do,” he insisted as he backed out the opposite side of the bed to find his clothes. Normally a man wearing naught but his small clothes would pull on trousers first, but he gathered his shirt up first and pulled it on before turning and looking for his pants.

  “I’ve seen your back already.”

  Vin stiffened and again closed his eyes as if lack of vision could rebuff a simple truth. Never in one night had so many humiliating moments been heaped on him one after another. First the nightmares and now this? To his knowledge, no one knew of his scars beyond Temple and the doctors who examined him in London. He’d been content with the knowledge that what had happened to him was his own business. That Moira, a lady, had seen the results of his imprisonment…

  Vin swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat as he pulled on his trousers. “Perhaps you should leave.”

  “No.”

  He ground his teeth in frustration. Never had he known such an aggravating woman. “Damn it, Moira, just get the hell out of here. I can’t…Fook!”

  “It’s all right, Vin.”

  “Bloody hell! Nay…it…is…not!”

  Moira bit back her dismay seeing the effect her admission had on him. She could easily read his self-disgust as if the scars were a mark of shame. As if they somehow reflected the man he had become. She knew that he had changed in many ways. He’d lost his humor, his easygoing nature. What he seemed unable to grasp was that there was still much of him to love and those who did so might help him on the path to finding those missing pieces once more. It was those scars, unseen by the eye, which worried her the most.

  Coming around the bed, she touched his cheek until he finally turned to look down at her, his dark eyes awash with shame and a touch of anger. Slowly, deliberately, she ran her hands up under his shirt and around him back, brushing her palms up and down the rough texture the scars left in their wake.

  He shuddered, Moira thought with disgust, but she kept her gaze locked with hers. “You do not need to be ashamed of this,” she whispered softly. “No one who loves you cares what your body looks like. It will not disgust us. These scars are a mark of what you bore not who you are. Though I know you would not bare them to the world, you needn’t to hide any part of yourself from me.”

  Vin stared at her for a long moment before a reluctant smile lifted the corner of his lips. She certainly knew how to set him at ease though the touch of her hands on him had not eased at all but aroused him enormously. Before he could mentally process the action, he ducked his head and captured her lips with his. He came to his senses quickly enough to keep the kiss brief and fond though his body urged him to take her in his arms a ravish her thoroughly. He pulled back and pushed the arousal aside though his voice became rough with desire.

  “You have become an amazing woman, lovey.” She blinked as if dumbfounded then blushed in pleasure at his words. “I don’t know why you put up with me though.”

  “Well, it’s not because of your sweet and gentle nature,” she teased after a moment and pecked him lightly on the cheek. “Come and lay down now, I will tell you a story to put you to sleep just like my nanny used to.”

  “Nanny May?” He grinned when Moira nodded, curiosity plain in her eyes. “Aye, I remember Nanny May. She had the nicest set of…”

  “Vincent MacKintosh!” she scolded but could not contain her laughter. “My goodness! You and Jason both? Truly? Nanny May?”

  “But Moira,” he protested with a laugh, holding his hands up in
front of his chest.

  “Oh, just get in bed!”

  The laughter died as suddenly as it had come and Vin was again faced with the flaring lust that seemed to plague his every other thought. Slowly he crawled back into the bed, wishing he could prowl across it, capture this sparkling Highland lass in his arms, and make passionate love to her through the night before they both slept.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with you here after all.”

  “Just try it for a moment.”

  He shed his shirt and settled back against his pillow pulling the blankets more modestly up over his chest. “I feel foolish,” he grunted. “This whole thing is foolish. I’m a grown man…”

  “Oh hush!” she admonished, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his hand between hers. “Let’s just see what happens, shall we?”

  “You should just…”

  “Hush!” she commanded. “Now let’s see…Which story? All right then. Once upon a time…”

  Vin scoffed.

  “I said hush now and close your eyes.”

  He went silent but couldn’t close his eyes as he watched her begin to speak, loving the way her lips formed the words. “Once upon a time, long ago the terrific Viking hoard invaded our country’s shores. The frightful warriors ravaged our land and our women leaving behind blood enough to flow as strong as a river…”

  “This is a story Nanny May told you as a wee lass?” Vin interrupted skeptically.

  Moira shrugged. “Nanny May was always a little bloodthirsty. Shall I continue?”

  “By all means. Please.”

  “They swept across Scotland like a whirlwind, ransacking our monasteries for their wealth and our villages for slaves…”

  Chapter 17