The Tempted

by Donna Grant

It had been so long since she’d felt such yearning stir that she feared it as much as she craved it.

  Stefan tossed aside something that Morvan only belatedly realized was his ruined shirt. She walked to him, their gazes never breaking. When she reached him, she pushed him back to sit on a rock and knelt between his legs. She saw a droplet of water fall from the end of his hair to his collarbone. Without thinking, she covered the drop with her finger and spread it over his chest.

  His skin was warm, his chest hair crinkling beneath her palm. Morvan’s blood pounded through her as desire coiled tightly.

  She went from wound to wound washing them and packing them with herbs before taking more of her shift to use as bandages. Every time she touched Stefan, it became harder and harder to keep her hands from him. He was like a magnet drawing her to him.

  There were no words spoken. She felt his gaze on her face even as she kept her eyes on his magnificent body. If she looked up, she might give in to the desire that was slowly consuming her.

  When she finished dressing his wounds, she set aside the herbs. After a moment, she lifted her eyes. She didn’t flinch away when his hand cupped one side of her face. He pulled her to him the same time he lowered his head. Their lips brushed once, twice, seeking, searching.

  A moan rumbled in Stefan’s chest as his arms wound around Morvan and pulled her closer. He deepened the kiss, the passion flaring high, the desire erupting brightly.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Stefan knew he should soften the kiss, but he couldn’t. The longing, the desire was too great. Touching Morvan affected him in ways he couldn’t describe, but kissing her set his blood afire.

  Her hands roamed over his back, her touch both gentle and needy. His cock jumped when she shifted again, bringing their bodies tightly together. He ground his arousal against her and then moaned as her nails dug into his back. The woman was a temptress, a siren. And he was powerless against the yearning to have her.

  Stefan bent her over his arm and kissed down her throat. He watched the way her chest heaved, the way her head lolled to the side to give him access. He heard her soft moans, saw her swollen lips still wet from his kisses.

  He forgot everyone and everything except the woman in his arms. All that mattered was Morvan and the passion that raged between them.

  He wouldn’t be content until she was writhing beneath him, until she was so sated she couldn’t move. Until he looked into her nutmeg brown eyes and saw her climax reflected there.

  “Your wounds,” Morvan said when her hand skimmed over one of his bandages.

  Stefan took her mouth in another kiss. He didn’t care about his injuries. He felt nothing but pleasure right now, and that’s all he would feel.

  He moved off the rock to kneel in the thick grass in front of her. Morvan’s kisses were like a drug, and he never wanted it to end. A moan slipped from him. He had to feel her skin against his, to see her in all her glory. Stefan grabbed a handful of her skirts and pulled them upward.

  A heartbeat later, she was helping him remove her gown. She toppled over as he finally got it off. Her laughter was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, and it brought a smile to his lips.

  She looked up at him before she removed her boots. Stefan swallowed hard when he caught a glimpse of her bare thigh as she rolled down her stockings. Then all that remained was her thin shift.

  Stefan held his breath, waiting for her to remove the last bit of her clothing. He had seen her naked, but he hadn’t looked – much to his dismay. That’s what his anger did to him.

  But that rage was a world away at the moment. That’s how he wanted it to stay.

  He unpinned his kilt and let the material fall away. When he started to lean over her, she held up a hand.

  “Wait,” she said and sat up.

  The way she looked at him, as if she didn’t think he was real, perplexed him. There was no denying the awe in her gaze, and he didn’t know what to do with it.

  Out of his friends, he was the last of them that women saw or even paid attention to. He wasn’t sure how to react to the way Morvan reverently touched him, smoothing her hands over his chest while always being careful around his bandages.

  Everywhere she touched, his skin burned for more. From his shoulders to his chest and down his abdomen she left a trail of fire. Not once did she recoil at his many scars. Not once did the light in her gaze dim.

  “Magnificent.” She lifted her brown eyes to his. “That’s what you are.”

  “I’m a warrior, meant for battle and death. There’s nothing good about me.”

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she rose up on her knees and cupped her hands around his face. “You are magnificent and beautiful and glorious.”

  Her eyes held nothing but honesty. No one had ever looked at him the way Morvan did now. Stefan slid a hand around her waist. With just a few words, her touch, and her direct gaze, she changed something within him. It didn’t make sense, but nothing had since he’d encountered her.

  “Are you real?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Their lips were close, the desire burning hot. Stefan took her mouth in a frantic kiss of need and…hope. He held out a hand to break their fall as he pushed her backward.

  He covered her body with his, kissing her senseless while slowly working her shift up her thighs and over her hips. He’d never been so hard for a woman in his entire life.

  Stefan yanked off her shift and then looked down at Morvan. He was enthralled by her curves, taken by her alluring body. Her breasts were plump, her nipples a dusky brown. His gaze stopped for a moment on the large bruise on her side that looked as if it were already healing. Her waist narrowed before her hips flared out enticingly.

  Then his gaze settled on the black curls between her legs.

  “By all that’s holy you’re a bonny sight,” Stefan murmured as he cupped one of her breasts.

  Morvan sucked in a breath and her eyes slid closed. Stefan massaged the globe before tweaking her nipple. She gasped, her fingers clutching his arms. He then bent and closed his lips around the turgid peak and sucked. Her hips bucked beneath him, grinding against him. Stefan moved to her other breast and flicked his tongue over the nipple.

  Morvan was drowning in pleasure. Stefan was playing her body to perfection. She was lost, adrift in a sea of desire that besieged her. But she welcomed it, sought it.

  As long as she was in Stefan’s arms, she was safe. She couldn’t explain it, nor did she want to. It was a fact, a simple truth that she knew to the very marrow of her bones.

  She moaned as his continued assault on her body stirred long-buried hopes. His hands were everywhere, learning her, discovering her.

  He kissed down her stomach to her sex. She lifted her head and met his gaze. There was a confident grin pulling at his lips as he parted her thighs and leaned down to kiss her where she needed him most.

  Morvan dug her fingers in the grass and arched her back as the exquisite pleasure swarmed her. The intensity of it was too much, but she couldn’t pull away with the way he gripped her hips. She was powerless to do anything but endure the relentless, decadent pleasure of his tongue.

  She was mindless with need, her desire coiled tightly. Her body lay open for Stefan to do with as he saw fit. The carnality of his tongue as it teased her clit, the sensuality of his fingers holding her, took her to a place she had never been before. A place she hadn’t known existed.

  The orgasm came out of nowhere. She jerked, a scream locked in her throat as her body shook with the force of the climax. When the last tremor finally left her, she opened her eyes to see Stefan leaning over her.

  His long, dark hair hung around his face, and his hazel eyes blazed with hunger. Morvan was captivated, fascinated.

  Enchanted.

  He reached for her, and she eagerly went to him. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He held her with ease, his large hands sensuously rubbing her buttocks.

&nbs
p; There were no words between them. They didn’t need any. Everything they felt and experienced was through their eyes and touch.

  It was erotic, carnal. Wanton.

  Morvan felt the head of his arousal at the entrance to her sex. She held her breath as Stefan slowly lowered her until she had taken all of him. Looking into his hazel eyes, she felt as if it were just the two of them in the whole world.

  Then he began to move.

  Stefan didn’t know what heaven was, but with Morvan in his arms, he figured it was as close as he would ever get. He couldn’t stop touching or kissing her. And the way she looked at him made him want to pluck the moon from the sky for her.

  He groaned at the feel of her slick, tight sheath. She was all passion and curves, and she spurred his desire with just a touch.

  He wanted – needed – to hear her cry out from the pleasure again. He yearned to see the bliss light her from the inside out. Never had he seen anything so beautiful.

  His thrusts grew harder as he went deeper. Morvan’s lips were parted, her skin flushed. With sweat slicking their bodies, Stefan drove them toward the pinnacle of ecstasy.

  Stefan unwound Morvan’s legs from his waist and flipped her onto her hands and knees. He came up on his knees behind her and ran his hand from her neck down her spine to her butt.

  She looked over her shoulder at him, a gleam of excitement in her brown depths. He took his cock and guided it to her entrance. Then he entered her with one thrust. Morvan groaned and pushed back against him. Stefan grabbed her hips and began to drive into her. The louder she moaned, the harder he plunged.

  He leaned over her and skated his hand along her neck to turn her face to the side so he could give her a hard kiss. When he pulled back, she met his gaze and licked her lips. He very nearly spilled his seed right then.

  He sank deeper into her as she rocked back against him. He could feel his own climax building quickly, but he refused to give in.

  He continued to pump his hips, driving into Morvan until he felt her sheath clamp down on him. Only then did he give in to his body and allow himself to climax. As he poured his seed inside her, experiencing more pleasure in that one moment than he had in his entire life, he realized two things.

  He would do anything for Morvan, and she had taken a piece of his soul.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Morvan lay nestled back against Stefan’s chest. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy. If she tried, she bet she could walk upon the clouds.

  She took a deep breath, and it wasn’t until she released it that she realized there was no pain.

  “Why do you live alone?”

  Stefan’s question was spoken in a soft tone, but it startled her nonetheless. She shrugged. “It’s how it has always been.”

  “Always? I find it hard to believe you’ve been by yourself since you were an infant.”

  Morvan turned to face him, tucking her arm beneath her head as she did. “I was found in the forest by an old woman named Maria. She didn’t have any family of her own, so she kept me. My clan thinks I was left by the Fae.”

  “You never knew your parents?” he asked with a frown.

  “Nay.”

  “Perhaps it’s better that way.”

  Morvan guessed that he had no idea how telling his words were.

  Stefan touched her cheek. “So, Maria raised you?”

  “Until I was eight. We were out gathering wood after a heavy snowfall. Maria was old, and even though I could’ve gotten the wood myself, she insisted on coming. She slipped on the ice and fell. She never woke up.”

  His forehead furrowed deeply. “Surely one of your clansmen took you in after that?”

  “They’ve always been afraid of me,” she said with a smile. “It doesn’t bother me.”

  “You’ve lived on your own this entire time?”

  “I have.” She smoothed a lock of hair back from his face. “What about you? Tell me of your family.”

  His gaze slid away. “There’s no’ much to tell. My mother died when I was ten and six.”

  “And your father?”

  “Wouldna claim me.”

  Morvan covered his fist with her hand. “You obviously didn’t let that stop you from becoming a warrior?”

  “I was quickly becoming the monster you witnessed earlier after my mother died. The rage was steadily consuming me.” His eyes returned to her. “Then I met my friends, Ronan, Daman, and Morcant. We were all from different clans, but somehow we became like brothers. They alone helped me remember who I was.”

  She had the distinct feeling that something bad had happened to them. “You speak as if they’re dead.”

  “I doona know if they live or no’. I’m going to find out right after I find the old gypsy.”

  “You mentioned a gypsy before. What does she have to do with it?”

  He skimmed a finger down her side to her hip. “She cursed us. Ronan and Morcant disappeared first, and then she looked at me. I heard her voice in my head, and then I was in a place as dark as the deepest night where no light found its way. There was only silence and darkness.”

  Morvan knew about the gypsies. Maria used to tell her to stay far away from them because they only brought trouble. And death.

  “How did you get out of the darkness?”

  Stefan shook his head and glanced at the rocks above them. “I’m unsure. One moment I was there, and the next I was on top of the cliff.”

  An uneasy feeling assaulted her. “And how long were you in the darkness?”

  “I estimate a few years. I couldna judge the passing of time without any light. I concentrated on my hatred of Ilinca, and it fed the beast within me, growing my fury until it consumed me. Until you touched me.”

  Morvan tucked the stray hairs from her braid behind her ear to keep them from tickling her face. “What year was it when Ilinca cursed you?”

  “1427.”

  Morvan rolled onto her back so Stefan wouldn’t see her worry. Two hundred years. How could he have been locked away somewhere for two hundred years?

  Her gaze snagged on the boulders high above them and the narrow, steep path she had climbed to the top of the cliff. Something had driven her there a few days ago, and she was beginning to suspect it all had to do with Stefan.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I never come onto Sinclair land. It is forbidden with the threat of war,” she whispered. “Yet, I was drawn here yesterday. To the top of that cliff. I walked a maze of boulders that seemed to move on their own until I came to a wall of markings.” She turned her head to look at him. “They were of Celtic design, and there was one I couldn’t resist touching. The wolf.”

  Stefan blinked slowly. “My mother called me a wolf.”

  “It was after I touched the etching of the wolf that I saw you.”

  He inhaled deeply. “Everything I did brought me across your path. I found you last night unconscious outside your cottage and brought you inside.”

  No wonder she had a hole in her memories. She hadn’t been awake for them. “It was you who took off my clothes.”

  “You were shivering,” he said with a hint of a smile.

  “And this morning? Was that you I felt watching me at the loch?”

  He nodded.

  Morvan laced her fingers with his. “You said that the year was 1427 when the gypsy cursed you. Stefan, it’s been a lot longer than a few years since that happened.”

  “How long?”

  “The year is 1609.”

  His entire demeanor changed. He rolled onto his back and stared at the stars.

  Morvan wasn’t sure if he wanted her near or not, but she recognized that he was hurting and she wanted to offer comfort. She scooted closer and rested her face against his shoulder. The sounds of the night filled the silence as he wrapped an arm around her.

  ~ ~ ~

  Stefan was up and dressed by the time Morvan woke the next morning. He hadn’t slept at all after she told him what the year was.


  Before he’d had a mission – to kill Ilinca. Regardless that the gypsy had magic, there was no way she was still alive. Stefan wasn’t sure what he was going to do now. Without Ilinca, he couldn’t find his friends.

  They could be anywhere, in any time.

  He expected to feel only anger, but there was also sadness…and despair.

  “I should look at your wounds,” Morvan said.

  Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over to find that she had dressed. Stefan returned to the same rock as the night before and sat. He looked over her head, thinking of the future and what he was going to do while her gentle hands moved from wound to wound.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Stefan looked down. “You doona understand what, lass?”

  She sat back on her haunches and lifted her gaze to him. “Your injuries are all healed.”

  Confused, he looked down at his thigh and saw only a scar visible. He then inspected where one of the injuries had been on his arm, and another on his chest. Each one he looked at was the same – healed.

  “How?” he asked as he looked at her.

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure, but it explains why my ribs no longer hurt.”

  “Your bruise? Is it gone?”

  Morvan slowly nodded. “There is barely any discoloration.”

  Stefan looked up at the cliff. “You were drawn here, and I appeared here. What is this place?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, we can no’ stay. I know where the castle is. We should go there.”

  “Nay,” she said and scrambled to her feet. “I’m a child of the forest.”

  Stefan saw the fear on her face. He assumed it was the thought of going to a new clan. He stood and grasped her shoulders. “They doona know you, Morvan. You can no’ return to your clan, so you must choose whether to go to another clan, or take your chances here and tell them all you know of the MacKays.”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “I guarantee you know more than they do.”

  She looked down and nodded. “What will you do?”