Highland Lover (21 page)

the intimate caress. It was not until his kisses reached the juncture of her thighs, his mouth replacing his fingers there, that he suffered a check in her bold new demeanor.

“Gregor,” she whispered in shock, yet her body was already greedily welcoming this new intimacy.

“Hush, love,” he whispered back and lightly nipped the tender inside of her thighs. “I think ye will

like this. Wheesht, I think I am going to like it verra much indeed. Let me, loving. Let me please

you.”

She did. With but a few strokes of his tongue, he banished all of her hesitation. Alana not only let

him, she soon encouraged him. Then the tight burning she recognized as the start of her release

gripped her and she tried to tug him up into her arms. He ignored her, sending her tumbling fast and

hard into desire’s abyss. Alana was still caught firmly in the grip of her release when he thrust

inside her, and she wrapped her body tightly around his as he fiercely pushed her right over the

edge a second time before he joined her there.

It took Gregor a long time to recover enough strength to flop onto his back and tug a limp Alana

into his arms. He grinned as she muttered and curled her sleek body around his. His grand plans to

make love to her all night were probably ruined, but he was not too disappointed since it was his

lovemaking that had put her into such an exhausted stupor.

In his mind he patted himself on the back, pleased that he had heeded Liam’s advice years ago.

There certainly was satisfaction in knowing he had given Alana something he had never given

another woman. It was small payment in return for the gift of her innocence, but it still pleased him.

He had thought his cousin a bit of a fool for not taking his fill of every sensual experience he could, but something had caused him to heed the man’s advice. Not quite understanding why, he had

found himself holding back a little and he was now very glad of that. There were things he could do

with Alana that he had never done with another woman, and he was eager to try every one.

He was not sure he could ever share that knowledge with her, however, for it could remind her a

little too clearly that he had vast experience, but it was still satisfying. The fact that she had gone wild with desire as he had kissed her so intimately had certainly pleased him. He had every

intention of doing it again.

And, he thought as he felt Charlemagne curl up by his side, he had every intention of keeping Alana.

Now that the decision had been made, he wondered why he had hesitated to face the truth for so

long. She was his mate. There was no doubt in his mind that Alana felt right; she fit.

Gregor inwardly shook his head. There was no comparison between the cold, somewhat mercenary

plans he had been making concerning Mavis and the ones he now made concerning Alana. Letting

his heart lead him in deciding what to do in this matter was not what made him a fool. Trying to use

calm, cold reason and nothing else when it concerned something so sweet and hot as what they

shared together did, however. It did not even matter if he felt he could use the word love when

describing what flared between them and what made him feel bound to her in so many ways. He

could sort out those feelings later. As soon as he released Mavis, he intended to tie Alana to his side in every possible way known to man. She did not know it yet, but she was caught and he would

never let her go. He had been her first lover, and he intended to be her last.

Chapter 13

“We have a horse,” Gregor announced as he stepped into the cottage, his hair still damp from his

morning wash. “Your cousin has been verra kind to us and given us a horse to ride to Scarglas.” He

handed Alana a short letter that had been tied to the horse’s saddle along with a pack full to bursting with food.

Alana smiled as she read her cousin’s farewell, one surrounded by apologies for not being able to

say it in person. A part of her relaxed, the small part that had feared his disapproval and scorn.

Matthew also asked that she be sure to send him word of everything that happened once she got to

Scarglas and was eventually reunited with Keira. Alana was not sure what Matthew expected to

happen to her, for Scarglas surely marked the end of her journey, but she silently vowed to write

him a very long letter as soon as possible. As she tucked the small letter into her pouch, she had to smile over the way he had said he felt sure they could borrow Brother Peter’s horse. There was still

a lot of mischief in her cousin.

When she followed Gregor outside, she nearly gasped aloud. Brother Peter had a very fine horse, so

fine that Alana was a little wary about taking it. It seemed strange, however, that a monk would

keep such an elegant animal. Big, mottled gray, and strong, this was a knight’s horse, the mount of

a warrior, not a monk.

“Cease your frowning, love,” Gregor advised as he mounted the big stallion and pulled Alana up

behind him. “I truly do mean to return this horse.” He patted the animal’s strong neck. “Or pay weel

for him if he proves a weel-behaved lad. The poor beast must be weary of standing about and doing

nay more than pulling a cart or taking a monk on a slow amble down the road.”

“I was thinking much the same.” Alana looked up at the sky and grimaced. “I believe our spell of

verra fine weather is soon to come to an unpleasant end.”

After a quick glance up at the sky, Gregor nudged the horse into a slow trot. “It certainly doesnae

look promising, but at least we can ride through it now instead of walking.”

Alana was not sure that would make travel in the rain all that much better. Twisting the sling that

held Charlemagne off to her side, Alana put her arms around Gregor’s waist and rested her cheek

against his back. She yawned widely and then grinned even as she felt herself blush. Gregor had

wakened her once during the night to make love to her, and she had greeted the morning with him

making love to her again. She had become utterly shameless and, despite the shyness and

embarrassment she had not yet fully conquered, she fully intended to be shameless again.

She had discovered more than a blinding passion in Gregor’s arms last night. Alana knew she had

discovered something about herself. When she set that wanton part of her free, she felt beautiful and more womanly than she had ever felt before. The way her boldness so clearly enflamed Gregor

gave her a sense of power. Although she knew she would never abuse it, she had liked the taste of it.

She also recognized the threat to herself in such feelings, for they could make her feel too confident, even make her think she had already won the battle for Gregor’s heart. That could be very

dangerous indeed, she thought as she closed her eyes. If she lost her battle to win Gregor as her own, that confidence would ensure that the fall she suffered when he walked away would be very hard

indeed.

The feel of chilly water falling on her face woke Alana from a very pleasant dream of Gregor

holding their child and smiling at her with love in his fine eyes. She scowled up at the sky, knowing by the ominous roiling of the dark clouds that the gentle rain falling now would soon become a

deluge. A sharp meow drew her attention and she quickly adjusted the sling so that a very cross-

looking Charlemagne was sheltered from the rain. It would serve only for a little while, however, as

the blanket was no real protection against a cold, hard rain. Neither was her cloak.

“Awake now, are ye?” asked Gregor.

“Aye. Sorry I was such poor company,” she replied. “We are soon to be thoroughly soaked, I am

thinking.”

“Mayhap, but there is a wee shepherd’s hut but a short ride from here. Your cousin left me a verra

detailed map. I think he suspected that the weather could easily turn against us.”

“Matthew has always had a keen skill at judging such things.”

“He also seems to ken the importance of marking each and every possible place to shelter from the

rain when he draws a map.”

“Ah, weel, Matthew has also always hated to get wet.”

“That explains the map, then. I thought it odd that he would leave me a map to show me the way to

my own home. ’Struth, I was a wee bit insulted. But now I see that he was but showing me where

shelters were along the way that I might nay ken about. Mostly for your sake, I am sure.”

“Mayhap it was for Charlemagne’s sake,” she drawled and smiled when he chuckled.

The rain was falling harder and the wind had gained strength by the time they reached the tiny

shepherd’s hut. Alana stood huddled in her cloak, Charlemagne tucked beneath it, as Gregor

carefully checked the inside to be sure that it was empty, of men and of wild animals. And adders,

she thought, touched by how her experience with the adder seemed to have truly frightened him.

The moment that he signaled that it was all right for her to enter, she hurried inside, grateful to be out of the cold rain no matter how mean their shelter.

She set her pack down on the floor of hard-packed earth and then released Charlemagne. The cross

look the cat wore as it glanced around the hut nearly made her laugh. Charlemagne was becoming

one very spoiled cat.

“Aye, ’tis a sad, wee place,” she said as she took off her cloak, shook it out, and hung it on a nail near the door. “But at least it has a door,” she murmured, quickly stepping out of the way when it

started to open.

Gregor stepped inside and closed the door. He dropped the two packs he had carried in down next

to Alana’s things, hung his cloak on a nail next to hers, and looked around. It was a poor little place, with a firepit in the center of the room and a hole in the roof for a chimney. It was also very dark, the only light in the room coming through two very narrow slits in the front and back walls. The

pile of wood and peat against one wall suggested that the place had become a regular stopping place

for cattle drovers or travelers. He had seen no sheep as they had ridden here, so he doubted it was

still a shepherd’s hut. At least it had a solid slate roof and thick stone walls. And, he thought as he glanced up at the smoke-darkened roof beams, was high enough within that he did not have to

crouch. Seeing a bucket tipped on its side in a far corner of the room, he picked it up and set it

outside the door to catch some rain.

“At least this time ye willnae have to catch our food,” he said to Alana as he started to build a fire.

“Your cousin packed us a feast.”

“Matthew felt embarrassed by the way the monks treated us, I think,” she said as she sat down near

the fire he was building, eager for the warmth it would provide.

“Och, weel, as he said, his brethren arenae the bravest of men, and such men oftimes are as afraid of the lasses as they are of big, armed men.”

“It probably helps them to hold to their vows to think all women are sin on two legs.”

He chuckled and sat down next to her. “It was nonsense such as that which made Liam decide that

he didnae want to be a monk. The mon has a verra strong faith, but he had no tolerance for some of

the foolish ideas the cloistered men cling to.” He winked at Alana as he warmed his hands by the

fire. “He also missed the lasses.”

“Ah, I see.” She lightly bit her bottom lip and then asked tenuously, “He will be good to Keira, will he not?”

“Aye, lass.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close, smiling faintly when

Charlemagne squeezed himself between them and faced the fire. “Liam truly is a good mon. He just

didnae have a true calling, as your cousin calls it. Yet when Liam left the monastery, he didnae

walk away from all he had learned or all that had taken him there to begin with. He gave your sister

vows and he will hold fast to them. E’en before he wed her, he held fast to vows he had made only

to himself. Aye, he liked the lasses and they adored him, but he bedded no virgins, no wives, and no

women who were betrothed, even ones who claimed they didnae want the mon they would have to

marry. And e’en though Liam and Keira were forced to marry, trust me in this, Liam could ne’er

have said his vows unless he wanted to and meant to hold fast to them.”

She nodded, wanting to believe all these assurances she was getting concerning her sister’s new

husband. Yet she still felt that Keira was troubled, even sad. If it was not Liam Cameron causing

Keira to feel so, then what was it? She knew she would have to see Liam and Keira together before

she could make any true judgments. Alana knew that men did not always see what a woman did,

that sometimes the men they thought to be so good and honorable made very poor husbands. All the

goodness the man revealed to his male companions was not extended to his wife.

Although she desperately wanted to believe that Keira would not allow herself to be married to a

man she could not trust or love, Alana was no longer so naïve. She also knew that her sister had not

really loved her first husband but had hoped the fact that she had liked and respected him would

lead to love. It had not, of that Alana had no doubt at all. Yet she now knew the power desire could

have over a woman. It was possible that Keira had fallen into a powerful lusting for Liam Cameron

and was now discovering that such a thing did not always lead to love, either. Or, worse, Keira

loved, but it was not and might never be returned. That would certainly explain the sadness she felt

her sister was suffering from.

“Cease fretting o’er it, lass,” Gregor said as he unpacked some of the food her cousin had given