And then, he kissed her.
Chapter Thirteen
Leana had expected a kiss, a fleeting touch of Jamie’s lips against hers. Nothing more. But she had not anticipated the tempting taste of his mouth, a caress so delectably intimate, it seemed a seduction.
His arms curved around her. He might easily have overpowered her, but he was gentle, his hands skimming over her back, holding her with a knee-weakening tenderness.
His lips claimed hers. Softly, at first. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing her to open for him, taking and giving, stirring her senses to a blazing awareness of his maleness. Of his passion. Of him.
As he pulled her to his tall, lean body, her fingers curled around his biceps, delighting in his strength, in the sleek muscles tensing beneath the soft linen of his shirt, the restrained masculine power in his every movement.
Deepening the caress, his hands glided over her hips, cupping her bottom to draw her closer. The subtle spice of his shaving soap and his natural, clean essence filled her senses. Canting her hips, she cradled his arousal to her body.
“Sweet Leana. Mo cridhe,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’ve no right to want ye.”
His hands fell away, and he put an arm’s length of distance between them. Heat burned in his eyes, and he looked as if he’d take her in his arms again.
But he took another step back, putting more distance between them.
She swallowed hard against a sudden rush of emotion. He’d kindled a deep-seated hunger, and now she didn’t quite know what to say. The truth came to her, and it tumbled from her lips.
“You didn’t have to…let me go,” she whispered.
“Aye, my sweet lass. I did.” He reached out, his touch a soft caress against her cheek. “Ye’re not quite an innocent, but ye dinna know all the ways desire can lead ye down a path from which there is no return.”
“And if I say I do not want this moment to end…will you still leave?”
He gave a solemn nod. “I will treat ye like a lady, as ye deserve.”
His words warmed her heart. A little smile tugged at her mouth. “And here I thought you were a pirate—a scoundrel.”
“A pirate has his code. If ye were mine, I’d carry ye off to my bed and teach ye how a man like me loves his woman. But ye’re not mine to take, lass. And ye will never be.”
He claimed her mouth in a velvet caress, soft and quick and delicious. Releasing her, he opened the door, throwing a look over his shoulder as he left her.
“Ah, Leana, ye are a temptation. Sleep well, my beautiful lass.”
Leana awoke with the dawn. Alone in her room, she stared up at the ceiling. Truly, she should be thankful for Jamie’s restraint. She’d been mad for him the night before. She’d wanted to be in his arms. And in his bed.
The taste of his kiss lingered in her memory, and she savored it. What had come over her? The very touch of his lips to hers had stirred yearning unlike any she’d ever felt. She’d experienced desire before. Though she’d never lain with a man, she was not completely unschooled in the ways of love, in the pleasure of a man’s touch and his kiss. But she’d never known such a depth of need until Jamie took her in his arms and branded her with his kiss, stirring a hunger far more powerful than mere physical longing. In those moments, she’d wanted to know what was in his heart. She wanted to learn what pleased him, and what had led him to this remote place, far from the life he’d once led.
She’d longed to know what was in his heart.
She’d wanted to know him.
Her heart stuttered at the thought. Oh, this was beyond foolish. She couldn’t possibly be falling for him. Surely she’d been overcome with physical desire—that, she could understand. Who wouldn’t long for a pirate, lean and long and so very dashing, whose forest green eyes seemed to see through to her very soul?
A sigh escaped her. Much as she wanted to deny the truth, she couldn’t.
She willed herself to be strong. Kissing Jamie had been a mistake. She’d grown far too bold, challenging him when he would have walked away and left her untouched. Unmoved. Didn’t she know better than to risk her heart?
Tossing aside the covers, she left the bed and went to the window. The morning sun over the cliffs was a glorious sight. This was a new day, and with it, a new chance to set her course back on track. From this moment forward, she’d act the part of a proper governess in all respects, keeping a proper distance from the man, speaking to him with the expected deference, and proving her worth as a guiding hand to his daughters.
The knot in the pit of her belly eased a bit, and she drank in the beauty of the Highland dawn. After all, she and the captain had done no lasting harm the night before. Their flirtation had blazed hotter than either had intended. But nothing more had come of it. To a man like him, the interlude was likely a mere amusement, a diversion to be put aside without a thought the next morning.
If only she could do the same. Somehow, she doubted she’d ever forget that night.
Hours later, after Mrs. Taylor had served both the morning and noonday meals, Rory marched up to Leana as she sat in the library with the girls during their literature study. After waiting patiently for Isla to finish reading aloud a passage from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, he flashed a smile, brushed a wayward lock of sable hair off his forehead, and greeted the three of them with a question.
“What do ye think?” he asked expectantly.
Isla responded before Leana had a chance. “I think ye came in here interrupting me at the best part of the story. I’m ready to hear what happens to Alice with the Red Queen, and here ye come.”
“Bah, no one gives a rat’s—” Rory caught Leana’s shake of the head and cut himself off in mid-sentence. “What I meant was, ye can get back to yer story in a few minutes. But I need Miss Fraser’s advice.”
Leana’s forehead furrowed. “How may I be of assistance?”
“I’m goin’ courtin’ tonight. The young lady who’s caught my eye.” Rory shot his niece a preemptive glare. “And dinna go sayin’ I’m a fool, Isla. In a few years, ye’ll want a handsome man comin’ to woo ye.”
Isla’s glare rivaled anything Leana had seen her father muster. “The young lady ye’re goin’ to court also wants a handsome man to woo her. Pity all she’s got is you.”
“Isla, that is most impolite,” Leana said while holding back a chuckle. With her quick wit, the girl would certainly give some fellow a challenge in the future.
Her shoulders lifting in a little shrug, Isla fashioned a bland-as-porridge look. “I thought I was supposed to tell the truth.”
Well aware she was losing this skirmish, Leana shifted the subject back to Rory’s request. “How may I help?”
“What do you think—am I presentable for a lass who’s lookin’ to be treated like a lady?”
Leana’s gaze skimmed over him. Dressed in dark trousers, a pressed white shirt woven with tiny gray stripes, and a deep blue waistcoat cut to emphasize his broad shoulders, Rory might well set a young woman’s heart to pounding a bit faster.
“Any lass would be fortunate to have a fine young man such as yourself come to court,” Leana said. “I presume you will wear a jacket over your waistcoat.”
He nodded. “It’s too blasted hot now in this house.”
“Ye willna make the lass’s stomach curdle,” Isla observed dryly. “I guess that is something to be happy about.”
“Ye are yer father’s daughter,” Rory said as the girl shot him another scowl, proving his point.
“Da says I look like my mother. We have the same eyes and the same smile.”
“Aye, I can see that,” Rory said, leaning back against the desk. “Yer mum’s eyes were blue as the sea, like yers. But the frown on yer face all the time came straight from yer da. He canna even attempt to deny it.”
Isla folded her hand in mock primness. “If I were not a lady, I would say something rather inappropriate right now.”
“Is that so?” Rory
slanted Leana a glance. “Well, Miss Fraser, it would appear ye’re a miracle worker. It wasn’t long ago this brat would’ve told me straight where to go. She had a mouth like one of her da’s crew.”
“Aye, she did,” Jamie said as he strolled into the room, his attention on his eldest daughter. “Just my luck, siring a child so much like me.”
Isla laughed and ran to him. “Mrs. Taylor played the piano again while I practiced my dancing. Soon, Miss Fraser is going to start my music lessons.”
As if on cue, Bridget pounded a few notes on the piano, utterly random, and yet her joy at the sound was infectious. Rory scooped the girl into his arms, chuckling to himself.
“Good God, what do we have here—a house filled with fine ladies and virtuosos?” he said.
Jamie turned to Leana. As their eyes locked, her heart sped. Oh, dear. This wasn’t going as she’d intended. She’d steeled herself against him. Hadn’t she? She’d set her mind to being a proper governess, dedicated to providing an upstanding example to the girls. Her heart should not stutter at the mere sight of him. Her mouth should not go dry with longing.
You’re made of stronger stuff than this. After a blasted earl dared to touch you, you left him lying on his fine Aubusson carpet like a puppet unmoored from his strings. Resisting this one man—of all the men on the planet—should not prove a challenge.
If only she could convince her traitorous body and heart to listen to reason.
“Well done, Miss Fraser.” Jamie’s gaze lingered on her face a heartbeat longer than necessary. Her cheeks heated as he regarded her without the faintest hint of a smile.
Turning on his heel, he left her.
Just as he had the night before.
Chapter Fourteen
Over the next few days, Leana saw very little of the captain. Was his near absence since their heady interlude in the library a coincidence? Or was he taking pains to avoid any repeat of the incident so that when the time came to dismiss her, he might possess a clear conscience?
Sitting at the girls’ side as Isla read aloud from a collection of bedtime stories, Leana watched the young lasses with affection she didn’t have to feign. In the last week, Isla had cast aside some—but not all—of the defiance she’d worn like invisible armor. She’d let down her guard, welcoming Leana’s warmth and forging a deeper bond with her impressionable young sister. For the first time in a very long while, it felt as if Leana was a part of a family, and not merely an employee expected to remember her proper place.
“And they lived happily ever after.” Isla imbued the last line of the tale with a verbal flourish.
“Nicely done. You infused emotion into your reading. I am impressed.” Leana closed the book. “Now, the both of you must be tired. Let’s prepare for bed.”
“One more,” Bridget implored, and Leana relented. As Isla began reciting the tale of Rapunzel, Leana smiled to herself. Far from the ill-behaved banshees the cook had described, the girls were tender-hearted and bright, with high spirits not easily reined in. A bit of love and understanding had helped the children to blossom.
If only she could stay with them until they no longer required a loving hand to guide them.
Deep in her heart, Leana feared her time at Castle MacArron would soon be coming to an end. The timing of Captain MacArron’s near absence was more than a coincidence, she feared. The man was in residence, but he kept to the grounds or his study, dining each night with his children and offering perfunctory inquiries as to their daily progress, but taking pains to avoid encountering Leana when she was unaccompanied by his daughters or one of the staff.
Was he protecting her?
Or himself?
“…happily ever after.” Once again, Isla recited the predictable last line of the fairy tale, much to her sister’s delight.
Bridget pressed her small hand to Leana’s and gave a squeeze. With her fingertip, the child traced over the gold band Leana had worn each day for nearly nine years. How Leana treasured the ring. The sight and feel of the heirloom against her skin were an ever-present comfort.
“So pretty,” the girl murmured, seeming to be fascinated by the interplay of light between the rose-gold metal and the center ruby.
“Thank you. I think so too.”
“Did a prince give it to you?”
“No, dear, but he was as noble as a prince. My father gave this to me on the day I turned sixteen. It had belonged to my mother.”
Bridget’s eyes were wide and curious. “Where is your da?”
An old, familiar pain dug into her heart. “He became very ill not long after he gave me this ring. Now he’s gone to heaven to be with my mother.”
Bridget’s little face took on a solemn expression. “I dinna remember my mum. I know she was pretty. Like Isla.”
At that, Isla bestowed a rare smile on her sister. “Would ye like to hear another story?”
Bridget nodded, nestling against Leana as Isla brought another tale to life with her animated reading. When she’d finished, Bridget gazed up at her.
“One more,” Bridget implored again as her sister stifled a yawn.
“I think not,” Leana said. “It’s already past your bedtimes.”
“Verra well,” Isla said, feigning reluctance even as she covered another yawn with her hand.
An hour later, the girls were tucked into bed, and Leana had retired to her chamber. After a day of academics, music, and dancing, as well as a lengthy nature walk on the grounds, she was weary to the bone. Slipping into her nightdress, she crawled under the covers and eased into a pleasant, dreamless sleep.
This time, the screaming started two hours after midnight.
Leana sprang from the bed, pulled on her wrapper, and darted to Isla’s room. From the first terror-filled notes to reach her brain, she’d known which of the girls it would be. She’d suspected it was nothing more than a bad dream, but her heart thundered in her ears at the thought of the child’s distress.
Jamie had already thrown open the door and enfolded his daughter in an embrace.
“’Tis a bad dream. Nothing more,” he murmured as he stroked her back.
Awake, yet still dazed, Isla clung to her father like a drowning child who feared being swept away by a strong current.
“I know, Da,” she said between sniffles. “I wish I could make them stop. I wish the shadows would go away and stop tormenting me.”
“They’re not real, Isla,” he said, low and comforting.
“They are, Da. Ye’ve got to believe me. I’ll never forget the night—the night when the ghost killed Mama.”
Leana fell back into a troubled sleep, but by the first streaks of dawn in the sky, she was awake. Isla had calmed quickly, the nightmare seeming to fade from her thoughts as she drifted off to sleep, but Leana could not banish the sound of the girl’s cries from her mind.
Rising, she donned her wrapper and padded noiselessly down the hall. Outside the girl’s room, she listened at the portal before easing the door open. To her relief, the child slept peacefully in her bed, curled up beneath her blankets. Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood up in silent warning.
Someone was watching her.
She turned, meeting the eyes of James MacArron.
With a nod, he motioned to her to come to him. As she joined him in the hall, he quietly closed the door.
“You came to check on her,” she whispered.
“Aye,” he said, leading her along the corridor. “I’ve slept very little this night.”
She followed him into his study. He lit a sconce on the wall and walked to his desk. Documents had been stacked in a neat pile beside a large map spread open over the surface.
“When did the girls begin to suffer these horrid nightmares?”
“Bridget’s bad dreams have only recently begun. Her sister is filling her head with the notion of phantoms and spirits. But Isla’s nightmares started soon after her mother’s death.” His words were matter-of-fact, but she detected the current
of emotion edging each syllable.
“She is convinced there is a ghost in this house. You also made reference to a haunting. What haven’t you told me?”
He met her gaze, scrubbing his palm over the dark stubble on his chin. Charcoal circles of exhaustion beneath his eyes lent a stark grimness to his features.
“What does it matter? Ye’ll soon be gone from here.”
His words were a slap she hadn’t seen coming. Stripping the hurt from her voice, she pinned him with her gaze. “Is that so?”
“We had an agreement, did we not? It is nearly at an end.”
God above, she could scarcely believe the man who’d comforted his crying daughter so gently would be capable of such coldness. By thunder, she would not allow him to see how he’d affected her. Pulling her shoulders back, she braced herself against a fresh torrent of emotion. For Isla’s sake, she had to discover what had left such a scar on the child’s psyche.
“I am here now, and I am deeply concerned about your daughter. Did something happen to her the night her mother died?”
“Please,” he said, motioning her to sit in a wingchair as he settled into a leather chair. He steepled his fingers, peering at them as he appeared to gather his thoughts. “Are ye aware that Isla’s mother was murdered?”
The truth slammed into her, another blow she had not prepared to face. “No. I did not know.”
He pressed his fingers to his temples and looked away, appearing to focus on the intricate pattern on the carpet beneath their feet. “The girls’ mother died at the hand of an old enemy. He came seeking vengeance against the Highland Raiders—against me. Their mother hid the children in a chest. It was after midnight, and she’d extinguished the lamps to conceal their presence, but Isla was able to make out some of what happened through the slats in the door. To a child’s eyes, the intruder must’ve looked like a shadow in the darkness. Siobhan tumbled from the window. We believe she fell while trying to lead him away from the girls.”
The Pirate's Temptation (Pirates of Britannia World Book 12) Page 12