To Steal a Highlander's Heart (6 page)

She
chewed on her lip, gaze burning into his as she forced herself to speak softly.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I wish… I wish I could have stopped him. Or come
after ye.” To her dismay her lip wobbled as she dropped her gaze to the floor.
“I wish I’d had more courage.”

There.
She’d said it. For too long, she had longed to see him and apologise. She couldn’t
help but wonder if she’d begged harder or defended Morgann more vehemently
mayhap her father would have let him be.

Morgann
stepped forward and tapped a finger to her chin, coaxing her to look at him.
“Ye couldnae done a thing, lass. I’d no’ have wanted ye to come to harm and my
father would surely have used ye as some form of revenge for me.”

“Like
yer using me now then?” Her lips tilted.

“I
dinnae use ye for revenge,
m'eudail.
‘Tis justice I seek.” Finger still
resting under her chin, he stroked it leisurely down the arch of her neck,
sweeping briefly over the pulse point there. “I couldnae use ye. Ye have such
courage as I have ever seen.”

Her
mouth grew dry as his fingertip grazed her skin. The sound of her breaths
amplified in her ears as she attempted to keep her voice light. “Ach, ye
flatter me, Morgann. But I do regret all that befell ye that day and everything
since.”

“Everything?”

“Aye,
everything. I cannae be glad I am with ye again under such circumstances. Not
when ye invite war with yer actions. I’ve no wish to see ye or my da killed.”

“So
ye do care for my welfare?” He moved up to trace the line of her jaw.

“Of
course I care for ye. Yer my friend. I always cared for ye. I didnae speak to
Da for four sennights after what he did to ye!” She grinned at the memory.

Morgann’s
lips turned reluctantly upwards. “See? Ye have great courage, lass. Yer da is a
fearsome man.”

Her
smile flickered as her heart twinged. “Was. Was a fearsome man,” she corrected.
“He is aged. Morgann, if ye go up against him, he will surely die.”

Morgann
dropped his hand from her face and she immediately felt the loss. The desire to
snatch and bury her cheek against it was almost overwhelming. How was it a man
who used to be no more than a close friend and was now her imprisoner had her
so captivated?

“I
dinnae want to hurt ye,” he told her sincerely. “I feel no affection for yer da
but if I can spare ye pain, I will.”

“Ye
promise?”

 “Aye,
I’ll no’ hurt him. But I cannae say the same for the rest of my clan.”

Alana
nodded slowly. “Ye have my thanks, Morgann. Though I dinnae see why ye have to
go to such measures.”

“‘Tis
something I have to do. I cannae explain my motives but ‘tis no’ for something
as petty as revenge, I promise ye.”

Shaking
her head, she inched closer. “Why cannae ye explain? Ye used to tell me everything,
remember?”

 “Not
everything.”

A
hand thrust out, he pressed it to her shoulder in an attempt to hold her back.
She could hardly think when she got nearer but the heat of his body seemed to
suck her in. They were speaking in riddles. Dancing around one another. Both
trying to understand what the other wanted. She’d intended to manipulate him,
to bargain her freedom. Yet somewhere along the line the past had caught up
with her and the burning desire know what had happened those years ago snared
her.

And
then another kind of desire swept her up.

Alana
curled her fingers around his wrist and drew his hand away. She glanced at his
arm and paused. Bringing her other hand up, she gently rolled up his sleeve,
skimming her fingertips over his skin.

“What
did ye not tell me then?”

His
throat worked as he swallowed. “I’d hardly tell ye now.”

“Ye
are a stubborn man, Morgann MacRae.” She settled her hand on the scar on his
arm, tracing the shape of it—a brand in the shape of a dagger tip. She winced
as she considered the pain he must have felt.

Aware
her gaze was full of sympathy as she looked back up at him, his flinch didn’t
surprise her. His jaw clenched again and she saw the anger consume his once
more. Would that she could erase it and bring back her friend.

“I
am sorry for what happened. The men told me afterwards what they did to ye. My
father had no right to punish ye as he did.”

Before
he could protest, she brought her lips to the scar, dancing them over his skin.
He coughed uncomfortably and she savoured the feel of the dark hair on his
forearm as it tickled her mouth.

“‘Twas
no less than a thief and a traitor should expect,” he said gruffly.

“Yer
no thief and no traitor. I know ye didnae take that ring.”

Straightening,
he stepped sharply back. She wavered and he tugged her hand from around his
arm. Her stomach dropped as his reserve slipped back into place. What had she done
wrong? Alana shrank toward the bed. Ach, but she could not understand the man.
Here she was apologising and defending him and he behaved as if she had
offended him.

He
glanced out of the window and sighed. “‘Tis late and I am weary after yer
escapades. Get into bed. I’ll be sleeping on the floor.”

Alana
eyed the pallet intended for a maid, imagining Morgann’s large form sprawled
out on it. And then she pictured him elsewhere.

In
the bed.

Heat
rose in her face. Lord, she couldn’t let him stay here. She wouldn’t get a
moment’s rest. For some reason Morgann MacRae made her think all kinds of
wanton thoughts. She certainly didn’t recall feeling like this during their
years growing up together.

Oh
aye, she’d wanted to kiss him. Even imagined marrying him. But an ache never
developed between her legs whenever she thought of him like now.

As
if knowing where her thoughts were leading, he watched her carefully, gaze
roaming her body as she curled a hand around the bed post for support.

“Well,
are ye getting into bed then, lass?” he asked impatiently.

“I
cannae. ‘Tis nae proper. I refuse.” She forced strength into her voice,
determined to find her courage once more. The soft approach was not going to
work so she needed to figure out another escape plan.

“Ye’ll
do as I say. Just because we were once friends, Alana, doesnae mean I willnae
force ye to do my bidding. I’ve been too soft on ye already and look where that
lead me. Climbing up the side of my damned keep!”

She
huffed. “Well I must relieve myself first and I’ll not do that in front of ye.
At least take me to the garderobes.”

Morgann
faltered at this and thrust a hand into his black hair. “Aye, as ye will.” Yanking
open the door, he motioned for her to step through.

She
glanced along the hallway. Should she try and make a run for it? Strong hands snatched
her arms and she struggled against his hold, crying out in frustration as he
shoved her back into the room and slammed the door firmly shut behind him.

“What
are ye doing?” She rubbed her arms where he had grabbed her and saw the flicker
of remorse in his gaze.

"Dinnae
even think about it,” he growled.

"I
didnae do anything!"

"Aye,
but ye were considering it. Ye'll not escape, Alana. Ye'll leave this castle
when I say, no sooner, and ye'd be better off getting used to the idea."
He bent and reached for the tied sheets, still curled in a bundle on the floor.
"Get on the bed," he commanded.

The
tenor to his voice sent a shiver through her. A shiver of fear or excitement?
She wasn't entirely sure. Her feelings toward Morgann had become so muddled.
She did not want to stay his prisoner yet she hungered to be around him. Aye,
those hits to the head truly had confused her.

Still
she kept her back straight and maintained eye contact, even as he bore down
upon her. "Nay," she said hoarsely.

"On.
The. Bed."

"Nay."

With
a sigh, he latched his hands around her waist and threw her on the bed. She squealed
as the bed ropes creaked and she bounced against the mattress. Before she could
push herself up, Morgann was upon her once more, clasping both wrists in one
hand as he bound them with the sheets, effectively tying her to the bed.

Eyes
wide, she fought uselessly against him. "How am I to relieve myself
now?" she asked feebly.

"I
doubt ye even needed to but ye'll be able to use the chamber pot with some difficulty."

Alana
glanced down. Aye, she'd not really needed it. But she would at some point
during the night. Did he expect her to do so with her hands bound and him lying
on a mattress at the foot of her bed?

She
tugged on her bindings. "And how shall I stay warm now I've got no
blankets?"

“Ye
should have thought of that before ye decided to use them to escape.”

She
gave the sheets binding her wrists one last tug, blew her hair from her face
and slumped against the pillows.

Morgann
smirked with satisfaction and Alana gritted her teeth at his display of male
pride. "'Tis bad enough ye've kidnapped me but now ye've tied me up and
plan to sleep in my chamber. I'll be ruined by the time yer done with me."

He
crossed both arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels as he
considered her. "Trust me, lass, if I wanted ye ruined, I had enough opportunity
on the mountains."

A
knot sat in her throat. What did he mean? Surely she hadn't really—

"Oh,
aye." He nodded, making her wonder if she'd spoken aloud or perhaps he
just read her that easily. "Ye all but offered yerself to me."

She
swallowed the lump, hoping the dim candlelight hid the blush in her cheeks.
"I didnae!"

"Said
ye'd never been with a man and then threw yerself at me." His teeth
flashed. "Yer lucky I'm an honourable man. Many lesser men would have
taken everything ye offered and more."

"I
took ye for many things, Morgann, but I didnae take ye for a liar."

"I'm
no' lying about this and ye know it well. I can tell, Alana. Ye remember that
moment just as well as I do." Morgann positioned himself at the end of the
bed, arms still folded. He released a cynical laugh. "Many lesser men would
take ye now too."

Skin
prickling, Alana tried to ignore the thrill his words sent through her as her
body remembered the sensation of being draped across that powerful form. In the
candlelight, his skin gleamed, along with his eyes. It was no wonder she'd
offered herself to him really. Who could resist such a man? She tracked every
fragment of him, from the dusting of hair at his collar to the veins in his
arms. Unfortunately the end of the bed blocked the rest of him.

"Especially
when ye look at them like that."

She
snapped her gaze to his face, cursing her obviousness. She never had been any
good at hiding her thoughts. "Mayhap ye should take me. I am ruined anyway."
She smiled. Oh aye, this could work. Seduce him into letting her go. Not that
she'd ever seduced a man before. In truth, she'd never even kissed one.

Eyes
hooded, Morgann's gaze followed the line of her skirts—where she knew her
ankles were on display—up to her breasts, and lingered on her face. Each part
of her singed, as if he had touched her rather than just looked. The faint
buffet of the wind against the shutters drowned out the sound of her own heavy
breaths but it failed to cover the pounding beat in her ears. How long he
studied her, she couldn't be sure, but if felt like forever.

And
then he spoke and it was not long enough.

"Ye
make a tempting offer but I'm in no habit of taking lasses against their
will."

"Why
would it be against my will?" Embarrassment flamed through her as she
heard the desperation in her voice.

Sweet
Mary, was it all part of the plan or did she truly long for him to make her
his? What she had told him in the mountains had been true. Long ago she'd
believed they would probably marry and he would be the one to take her
maidenhood but never like this. And she never expected to yearn for it so
badly.

He
moved unexpectedly around the bed and dropped down beside her. Palms pressed
into the pillow, his arms framed her, chest flat against hers. Her nipples
peaked against him at the feel of hard male flesh and his hair tickled her
cheek as it fell across her face. A hint of fruity wine lingered in his warm
breaths and she blinked as his lips came to her ear. Her hands came up to press
him away but somehow ended up fastened to his chest. A heavy pulse against her
palm echoed the one in her chest. She shuddered as his breath fanned over her
skin.

Firm
lips danced over her chin and his tongue darted out to lick at the corner of
her mouth. A tingle bolted through her and she forgot to breathe. She went
rigid.
This isnae how a first kiss should be!

 "Ye
dinnae know what ye want, Alana,” he whispered. Thrusting himself away, he
stood and shook his head. “And I'll no’ fall prey to some wild plan ye've
hatched to get under my skin."