But the unsettling fears soon faded to the back of her mind. Picking up large and small twigs, fallen leaves and dried brush, she placed them into a pile. Next, she searched for medium-sized rocks, and formed them into a circle. Arranging the dry material in the center of her small fire pit, she then brushed her palms together to get rid of the dirt from her hands. Her next task was to use the flint to start the blaze. Slipping her hand in the sack, her fingers encountered the smooth, cool surface of the bottle. Gladness filled her heart. This was the anecdote that would free her people. Pulling it out, she examined the dark liquid within the container. She had gone so far to obtain this potion. Recalling the difficulty in brewing the tincture, she didn’t want to risk anything happening to it. Then with great care, she placed the vial back into the sack, and dug around until she found the flintstone.
In short time, Adrina had a cheery little fire burning in the pit. Stretching her arms out, she allowed the heat of the fire to warm her hands.
It was the leaves that were the first to burn. As the material curled in the fire, it released a fragrant vapor. Adrina sat back on her heels, and watch the tendrils of smoke rising higher and higher. Her eyes traced the delicate gray wisps that swirled and danced to a music that seemed indiscernible to human ears. She had never seen smoke behave in this manner before, and she watched it with fascination. But then the curling haze changed direction, as if a small gust of wind had pushed it aside, and the area above the fire pit began to shimmer. While she might have considered that the flames triggered the curious waves, however that assumption couldn’t begin to explain the multiple colors that rippled through it.
The smoke patterns in front of her continued to swirl and dance. It was impossible to look away. Holding her breath, she watched as the vapor spun more rapidly, forming into a large mass. Then the smoke unexpectedly stopped its motion and began to shift. Still part of the mist remained, and soon a faint image began to show itself. She leaned closer to get a clear view of the picture, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Duncan,” she whispered, recognizing his likeness. Somehow she was viewing him remotely, and without his knowledge.
As the seconds passed, the picture became more vivid, so vivid that it was as if he stood a few short paces away from her. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing, yet she knew she couldn’t turn away even if she tried.
Every warrior she knew wore a kilt, carried a claymore, and fought in wars. There was nothing special about any of these things. So why was she so fascinated, so curious by this particular Highlander?
Pivoting on his heels, and with his back to her, Duncan stood at the edge of the loch, and casually loosened his belt. Her hand went reflexively to her mouth when he pulled off his great kilt, and dropped the material to the ground. She glanced nervously behind her, and was relieved to find that no one was there to witness her guilty pleasure. Then as if the image above the fire held some magnetic force, her scrutiny was immediately drawn back to him. But what she saw next caused her to suck in a sharp breath. Duncan was now reaching behind him, pulling the leine over his head. At the sight of his naked masculine frame, she lost all coherent thought. Her eyes traced his broad shoulders down to the curve of his tight, well-formed backside. Every muscle on his body was defined, and established from long hours of labor and combat.
Taking long and powerful strides, Duncan made his way toward the bank. She didn’t think she had ever seen anyone so beautiful, or so wild. It seemed that he belonged in the forest, and was perhaps not a man but an immortal. But she was spying on him, she realized, and a guilty blush bloomed across her cheeks. Still, her eyes continued to lock onto the scene that unfolded in front of her. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to miss a single detail. At any moment, he could turn around, and she could view him from another perspective.
But Duncan continued to present his back to her. As he clamored down the bank, he waded into the loch until it came up to his waist, and rippled around his athletic form.
After scooping up a handful of water to wash his face, he dove into the clear water. He seemed to disappear for long minutes, and she waited almost impatiently for him to re-emerge. But then he burst through the surface, facing her way. Shaking the water from his hair, the droplets sprayed every which way. Duncan raised his hands, and ran his long fingers through his damp locks.
Adrina’s eyes traced the curve of his biceps, which bulged slightly from the movement. He was the epitome of male splendor. From this new angle, she could see that his massive chest was muscular and chiseled, as if he was cut from stone. Along his tanned, smooth flesh, she could discern the ridges of his sculpted abdomen. How would it feel to trace her palm over his solid contours? She plucked at the front of her kirtle, unexpectedly feeling as if she had stood too long in the mid-day sun.
Suddenly Duncan looked up, and stared into the direction of the trees, an alarmed expression on his face.
Adrina’s hand on the stick tightened as she leaned closer to see what it was that disturbed him. But then a large black mass descended, obscuring the picture.
She blinked, and the image of Duncan was gone. All that remained were a few faint wisps of smoke.
“What happened?” she asked out loud, the question sounding shrill to her ears. But there was no one in the woods to answer her.
“Show me Duncan,” she demanded, poking at the embers with her stick. “Reveal what has happened tae him.”
But there was nothing.
“’Tis because ye are thinking obsessively about him,” she muttered to herself, trying to push away her doubts. She thrust the stick into the embers, watching the sparks fly into the air. She didn’t need to concern herself with him. After all, he was a trained warrior, a man who was more than capable of taking care of himself.
Adrina directed her attention back to the fire pit, resolving to finish building a fire that would satisfy Duncan. If he returned to camp, and discovered that the fire wasn’t ready, he likely would think that she was incompetent.
She picked up another stick, absently jabbing at the burning wood in the fire pit. But even as she tried to occupy her mind with mundane things, doubt continued to grow and churn inside her belly. And then the whispers in her mind, became louder and more persistent with each passing second.
Evil was afoot.
Was there really something wicked looming about? Certainly she could recall the sinister feeling she had experienced earlier. What if something horrible happened to Duncan, and he needed her help? She was the only one nearby who could come to his aid. If the situation was reversed, she was certain that he would come to her rescue.
Throwing the stick into the middle of the fire, she stood up. That was it; she had to see if Duncan was all right.
CHAPTER 8
Why did she hesitate for so long? As the minutes passed, different scenarios entered Adrina’s head until her mind became seized with many fears. Still she crashed through the hazel bushes and hart’s tongue ferns, running as if a dark fae creature was chasing after her. But by now she was convinced that it wasn’t the sprite that she dreaded. It was Fingal. Instinctively, she knew that her father’s advisor was somehow behind the disturbance. He had learned to conjure black magic, and there was a very real chance that he would use his newfound powers to harm Duncan. She didn’t know exactly what she would do when she got to her highlander, but if she ran fast enough perhaps she could warn him of the danger. It didn’t matter that the branches whipped and scraped against her flesh as she raced through the underbrush. If something happened to Duncan, she would forever blame herself.
Adrina broke through the line of standing trees, and saw him at the side of the river bank, folding the pleats of his kilt. He seemed unaware that he was in jeopardy. With urgency driving her, she ran to him even though her lungs burned and were ready to explode. But before she could call out his name, he had already reached for his claymore, which rested beside him. He brought the blade over his right shoulder, and s
tarted to swing it down at her.
Adrina shrieked and raised her arms over her head, even knowing that her protective gesture did little to protect her from the blade.
But the fiery rage in his eyes dissipated instantly when he recognized her.
“Get behind me,” he barked.
“I —”
He shook his head, and grabbing her wrist, he yanked her behind him.
She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to catch her breath. Her body shook with the realization of how close she had come to dying.
“Who’s after ye?” he demanded, his head moving slowly back and forth, scanning the thicket as if searching for the assailant. All the while he stood with his legs in a fighting stance, his body rigid with predatory strength.
“Nay one is after me,” she said, still struggling to catch her breath.
“Nay one…?” He lowered his sword and pivoted to face her. His green eyes swept across her countenance. “Explain yourself.”
She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling foolish. “I was preparing the fire, and I — I had a belief that ye were in danger.”
“Ye had a belief that I was in danger?” he said, irritation entering into his voice. He lifted a finger as if to scold her, but he dropped his hand, and let out a sound of disgust. Throwing one more glance at the direction in which she emerged, he shook his head. He twisted his lips to the side. Appearing convinced that there was no threat, he thrust the tip of his sword into the ground.
With his hand on the pommel, he looked at her, his gaze narrowed. “I thought that ye were an English knight. If I lacked mastery over my claymore, I would’ve run ye through with the blade.”
“I wasnae thinking,” she said, swallowing.
“Nay, ye werenae.”
Duncan finished pleating his plaid, and went to lie down on the material when her soft voice stopped him.
“I should thank ye for saving me from those men earlier.” It appeared that she wanted to make amends for her foolishness. But when he glanced at her, he found her staring down at her feet. “And I suppose that I should also thank ye for nae killing me just now,” she continued.
He grunted. In the short time that he had known her, he was used to her outspoken ways, and it surprised him that she seemed so contrite.
“’Twas nae hardship,” he said, his temper starting to pass. He settled on the plaid, and extended his hand to fold the material over his body. But he hesitated when he felt heat grazing upon his crotch. When he looked up, he found her staring at him. Unable to control his response, his cock twitched. Her eyes flew to his, her expression becoming a mixture of fascination and horror, as if she realized that she ogled him.
“If ye wanted tae see me naked, ye need only ask,” he said, amused.
She let out a startled gasp, and immediately turned her back on him.
“Forgive me,” Duncan said, noticing her tense back as he finished belting his kilt. “It appears that my comment was inappropriate.”
Her embarrassment was evident, and he felt guilty for causing her discomfort. But he wasn’t certain about what confounded him more — the fact that he apologized for something that needed no apology, or the fact that he cared about how she felt. These sentiments were foreign to him, and he didn’t like them one bit. He preferred his logical, analytical view of the world, a world where emotions held little sway. What he needed was to return to his safe and comfortable state. And he needed to harden his heart toward Adrina, and stick to his assignment.
Still, his resolve did little to hinder the urge to shock her. He wanted to turn her around, and have her watch him stroke his shaft until it became even more engorged. The prudent course of action however was to stay quiet, and spare her from seeing his cockstand. But a part of him wanted her to observe him in all his glory. Obviously he hadn’t bedded a woman in a while, a voice inside him mocked. Adrina was not the kind of lass that he normally preferred. He liked tall, light-haired, curvy women who were definitely not virgins. Yet despite his preferences, and his resolve not to become entangled with her, he could easily imagine that anyone who married Adrina would be a fortunate man. Within a few years, she would likely have a brood of bairns hanging at her skirts…
But women were the pawns of political and strategic marriages, his mind insisted, jerking him out of his reverie. They also functioned as vessels for furthering the bloodlines. For the time being, he wasn’t prepared to be shackled to anyone. Despite what his sisters told him about love, and regardless of the fact that he felt attracted to Adrina, there was no rational reason for matrimony — unless the match proved politically advantageous. He shook his head. It was time to change the direction of his thoughts before they reached dangerous territory.
“Why did ye feel that I was in trouble?” he asked.
“As I said, I thought that something had happened tae ye. And I felt that I needed tae save ye,” she said, shrugging.
“Save me?” he said, finding the humor in her words. “I was only washing the hare’s blood from my body. There was nay point when I was in danger.”
“I ken that now,” she said, looking uncomfortable. However she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Still, ye intervened when that man accosted me at the tavern. I simply needed tae return the favor, and help ye.”
Her frank words hit him at the center of his heart, softening it. Suddenly his earlier resolve to steer away from dangerous grounds fell to the wayside. He was a virtual stranger to this lass, yet she would put herself at risk simply because she thought he was in need. Aside from his female relations, not many women would champion him. If anything, they expected him to care for them.
Duncan got up from the ground, and went to stand in front of her. Glancing down at the exotic beauty, he wasn’t able to discern exactly what he felt. He didn’t understand lassies to begin with, nor did he want to understand them. But this lass brought about odd feelings that he preferred buried. In the past, he had kept an emotional distance from women. Yet Adrina warmed his blood, and try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the tenderness, frustration and want that she stirred within his soul.
He took a step closer, suddenly desiring to be near her, to have her soft, luscious body wrapped around his rigid length.
His movements were quick, but it was the sheer heat of his closeness that made her take an involuntary step back. In the next moment, her back became flushed against a large boulder. He leaned both of his brawny arms on the rock, effectively trapping her in between them, and preventing her escape.
“What are ye doing tae me, lass?”
Before Adrina could question him in return, or even move, he seized her chin with one hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. And when she stared into his depths, she discovered passion simmering there. The corners of his eyes crinkled as if he knew what she was thinking. Dropping her regard, her eyes fell onto his chiseled lips, which stretched into a lazy, appreciative smile. Unable to help it, her breath came out fast and unsteady.
But in the next moment he was no longer smiling.
His countenance became taut with desire. Her heart began to pound as his intent became obvious. Before she knew what was happening, a coal fire sensation shot across her lips as his mouth sealed firmly over hers.
An intense surge of heat swirled in her belly and settled in her core, causing her knees to buckle. Her fingers gripped his forearms for support since her legs had somehow forgotten how to function. What was happening to her? Her breasts felt full and heavy while her nipples became stiff, aching nubs. Some innate yearning began to grow inside of her until it felt overwhelming, and she wanted him to touch her.
“Please, Duncan,” she said, her breathing coming out in quick, desperate spurts. But even if she couldn’t fully voice her desire, he understood what she wanted. With one callused hand, he moved to cup a swollen breast. She gasped at the unexpected contact. Even through the fabric of her gown, she could feel the exquisite heat of his hand. But just when she became used to the touch, his f
ingers began to roam over her straining nipple, rolling the hardened peak between his thumb and forefinger. Her head fell back and she groaned.
Adrina shifted her body, overcome with an urgency to do her own exploring. Her palm skimmed along his taut forearm, feeling the ropes of muscle that formed there. At her touch, his grip on her tightened even more.
She could feel something warm and wonderful moving between them, and she instinctively craved more of it. She wanted to press her body as close as possible, to feel his bare skin against her own. His large hand moved to curve around her nape, while his other hand pulled her away from the boulder, and skimmed up and down her back.
Curving one arm under her buttocks, he lifted her until she could feel his male hardness cradled against her hips. Her arms went around his strong neck, and she clung to him. But she needn’t have worried about falling, because his grip on her was sure and strong.
Bending over, he settled his searing lips along her shoulder. “Ah, lass,” he murmured, taking a deep breath through his nose, savoring her scent. He tilted his hips forward, making her more aware of the rigidity of his shaft.
Then as if he had enough of playing, and was beginning to lose his patience, his hand gripped her skirt and tugged it up. She vaguely felt the cool breeze against her buttocks, although she was all but lost in the abyss of pleasure and bliss. She couldn’t comprehend exactly what was happening to her until she felt something hard, hot and throbbing brushing over her sex. The electric contact caused her to gasp. But her surprise receded as a wave of pleasure cascaded over her, softening her body, and flooding her core with the startling sensation.
She arched her head back, reveling in the wonderful feeling. Soon a strange throbbing began to grow inside of her. And as if he sensed her growing need, he began to move until she felt the unmistakable length of his erection rubbing along the slickness between her thighs. Bending his head, he dragged his hot tongue along the side of her neck. A haze of passion folded over her, and she moaned.
The Highland Curse (Scottish Strife Series Book 2) Page 7