She moved a pawn forward two spaces. “I’m certain of it now. They’re no longer fighting.”
Conall pushed one of his pawns forward. “I heard them arguing last night at dinner, even though they’ve been apart for most of the week.”
“They’re making a good show of it, but that’s all.” Innes took her turn. “They’re only doing that for your sake and mine. It’s a ruse.”
Some loose strands of hair brushed her lips. He struggled not to reach over and tuck them behind her ear. “And their bedroom difficulties?”
“It’s difficult to say for sure. I believe they’ve mended their differences, but they’ve decided to continue to play their game.”
He stared at the column of her neck and the small buttons stretching down to her waistline. What would it be like to open them one by one? “How do you know this?”
“I know my sister too well.” She shrugged, moving her bishop back to remove the danger from his pawn. “I let her think what she wants. She believes their plot is working.”
He leaned on an elbow, hiding the growing evidence of her temptation beneath the folds of his kilt. “What is their plot?”
“To keep me at Girnigoe a while longer.”
“I’d like to help them with their plot.”
She bit her lip and took his pawn with a bishop.
He studied the board, then looked up at her lips. She had the power to drive him crazy. He held out his hand to take the piece, and her gloved fingers placed it gently in his palm.
“Why do you always wear the gloves? Is it habit? Fashion?”
A soft blush immediately crept into her cheeks. He watched her face. Her enticing lips. Her gaze refused to lift from the board.
“Habit more than fashion, but that’s not entirely accurate,” she said. “It’s just my way.”
“Like wearing black.”
“Like never trimming your beard or cutting your hair.”
He smiled, looking down at the board and the moves she’d been making. “Like being an expert in this game and lying about your skills.”
“I didn’t lie.” She smiled.
“‘I have an elementary knowledge of the game.’” Conall tried to do an imitation of her tone. He put her king in check with his queen.
“You’re mocking me,” she said, sounding insulted. Her knight blocked the check.
“This will not be the only game we play.”
She sent him a challenging look. “Are you forfeiting already?”
Her bishop put his king in check. He moved his king and glared across the board. She glared back, but Conall saw the trace of a smile on her lips.
Her second bishop put him in check.
“You are a bloodthirsty wasp,” he said, moving the king.
“Then beware of my sting.”
In the next few moves, her queen began carving a bloody path while his king went on the run.
He couldn’t believe it. He’d been distracted by her looks, by the allure of her lips, by his body’s response to her. He hadn’t seen it coming. The last time he had lost a game had to be when he was a student at the university.
“Checkmate.”
“Bloody hell.” He sat back in the chair. “How many moves was that?”
“What makes you think I was counting moves?”
He shook a threatening finger in her direction. “I know you were.”
She laughed and her face transformed before his eyes. Whatever he’d thought of her beauty before, it was nothing compared to how he saw her now. When she laughed, her somberness disappeared, age melted away, her wariness evaporated. Suddenly, she was young and carefree and happy, and her smile shone with a brilliance that knocked the breath from his chest.
“Twenty-two,” she finally admitted.
Setting up the board again, he scowled at her. “We are having a rematch right now. And this time, m’lady, be prepared to learn how this game is played.”
Innes lost the next game, and she rose to her feet. Thunder stood and stretched beside her.
Conall motioned to the seat. “Sit. We play again.”
She watched him set up the board. “Can’t we leave it at a draw? We each won a game.”
“We can if you agree to postpone your journey to Folais Castle.”
A delicious knot formed again in her belly. Years ago, one of her tutors had taught her the game. From the very beginning, she found she was excellent at it. Now she only played occasionally, when a guest arrived at Folais who was fond of the game. To her, chess was just a diversion, something with which to pass the time. She never saw it as a battle of wits. She never imagined the joy that would fill her heart when she watched him as he studied the board and made a move.
His gaze met hers. She thought she might melt from the intensity of it.
“Nay, I’m leaving tomorrow.” She sat down and stared at the board. “But we can play one more game, and that is the end of it. The winner is the champion. You go first.”
He started to play and then sat back, watching her.
A charged silence hung in the air for a few moments. Thunder sat on his haunches, looking from one human to the other and then at the board.
“Let’s make a wager,” said Conall.
Innes was forced to look up at him. “What should we play for? Coins? A book? A tutor to teach you to play chess properly?”
“We play for you.”
Her face went warm. Her heart began beating so hard that she feared it might burst from her chest.
“If you win, you leave tomorrow. If I win, you extend your stay here by a month.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to stay longer because of a silly game.”
“Then do it for your sister.”
Innes thought about Ailein’s request. Staying here would make her sister happy. And the men they ran into yesterday? There were rumors everywhere. She could deny them. But what about the complication sitting across the table? After today, she would lose whatever shield she had to resist her deepening attraction to him.
“I can’t. Ailein doesn’t really need me.”
“I say she does. And I know what it’s like to be alone.”
Innes looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Why did he have to pull at her heartstrings like this? She knew what he’d gone through. But she also knew what it was like to be alone. That was her life. Her future.
“Your sister still needs you,” he said softly.
He was tempting her. Manipulating her. He was playing her heart like an instrument. She was torn by which road to take. Reason or . . . was it passion?
And why did he press her? What did he want?
“What do you say, Innes?” he prodded. “Why not let our talent in this game decide?”
She took a deep breath. “Very well.” She focused her attention on the board. “And so a month of my life is about to be decided by a foolish game.”
“I don’t believe this game we’re playing is foolish, at all,” he said quietly, picking up his knight.
Chapter 11
Thunder leaped out of the water and raced across the strand before the door began to creak open.
As the gate swung wide, the wolf went in and Innes stepped out. Thunder immediately reappeared, bouncing happily in circles around her.
Conall climbed the rocky beach toward her. Thunder was hopelessly in love—jumping up, licking her face, kissing her lips. She petted him and tried to push the animal away.
Conall never thought there would come a day when he’d be jealous of a wolf, but that day had arrived.
“Get down, you beast,” he commanded.
The excited animal ran from Innes to him, and then back. This time he knocked her down.
“Thunder!”
At Conall’s harsh tone, the wolf crouched down at Innes’s side, kissing her face as she lay flat on her back laughing.
Conall went to her and leaned down, his hand on his knee, looking down at her smiling face and sparkling eyes. He thou
ght of her looking up at him in his bed, naked, her limbs tangled with his. His gaze drifted to her lips.
“Did he hurt you?”
She pushed up onto her elbows. “I believe my backside is severely bruised.” She reached under herself and produced a large shell. “You’re not to blame after all, Thunder. It’s what I landed on.”
The wolf’s tail wagged.
“You stayed,” Conall said. “I’m glad.”
“I lost,” she said. “I always make good on my wagers.”
He wanted to be able to take the same liberties with her the wolf did. He imagined having the freedom of sweeping her into his arms and kissing those lips.
How long had it been since he’d felt this way? He’d dreamt of her last night. She came to him in his bedroom. Naked, her skin glowing, reflecting a full moon. She pushed him back on the bedding and climbed on top of him. He looked into her eyes, the blanket of her silky hair caressing his chest, his arms. And then Innes lowered herself, inch by inch, until he was fully embedded in her tight sheath. He’d awakened fully aroused, wanting her.
He offered her his hand, and her gloved fingers grasped it. He pulled her up and inhaled her scent; his hand lingered on the small of her back before letting go.
“I hope you realize that just because I stayed, that doesn’t mean we’ll be playing chess three or four times a day,” she said.
“Once a day will be fine.” He picked up the drawing supplies that Thunder had knocked down and walked beside her as she headed toward the rock slabs near the water’s edge. “But I’ll need to think of other things to keep you occupied for the rest of the day.”
“You don’t need to entertain me. My understanding was that I was staying to be a help to my sister.”
He waved a hand dismissively in the direction of the castle, looming high behind them. “You were right. I paid closer attention last night at dinner. The attraction between them is obvious and mutual, and they’re doing a poor job of hiding it.”
She sent him a knowing look. He liked this feeling of being a coconspirator with her.
The sea had grown rougher since he’d come out at dawn. He and Thunder had come down early, not wanting to miss her. Now, as they drew close to her favorite spot, a wave crashed on the rocks, spraying them with mist. As always, the blaze of white hair danced free in the wind, and it blew across her eyes.
He acted without thinking. He touched the hair, felt its texture, and curled it around a finger before pushing it back behind her ear.
Her lips parted and her eyes grew wide. A blush covered her cheeks, and he wasn’t able to stop himself. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. It was a chaste kiss. A peck of the lips that gave him a sampling of her. Her lips were so soft.
It was a good thing that she turned and quickly climbed the rocks, or he would have done it again, this time taking it further.
“I doubt you’ll find a dry place to sketch this morning. Not this close to the surf.”
She kept her face away from him and continued to climb. Thunder followed her, making it known to his master that his allegiance at the moment was with her.
“It’s no use,” Conall continued. “The sea has a mind of its own when a storm is brewing.”
“So we’re in for a storm, you think?” she asked as she reached the top.
“All the signs point to it.” Conall looked up at her standing on the rocks and lost track of whatever else he was going to say. Her face lifted to the sky, and she squinted into the wind. The wind whipped her dress, molding it against her breasts and hips and legs. Her braided hair was coming loose and long locks flared out behind her.
He wanted her.
She drew in her cape around her.
“Do you ride?” he asked.
“Of course,” she responded, looking down at him. “But most animals—my four-legged friend here being an exception—are not comfortable around me. I ride when I need to, but I prefer to walk.”
“Where I’m taking you is too far to walk.”
“This doesn’t sound enticing.”
“Do you know that we have some of the rarest birds of the Highlands near us here?”
Her gaze fixed on him and she smiled. “How would you know that?”
“I’m very knowledgeable about subjects of importance.” The truth was that his late uncle used to drag him and Bryce all around Caithness showing them the nesting places of birds that had been far more abundant in his own youth.
“Name some of these rare birds.”
“Are you doubting me?”
“To be sure, we have birds one rarely sees,” she said. “But I am doubting your ability to name them.”
“How could I have fallen so low in your estimation in so short a time?” he said as pitifully as he could muster.
With a frown at the ominous skies, she began to climb down.
He slipped an arm around her waist and lowered her next to him—allowing his fingers to linger on her waist. He eyed her lips again, wanting another taste, but sensed her hesitation.
“Very well,” he continued. “Have you ever seen a purple heron?”
“I . . . well, I haven’t.”
“Or a red-throated diver?”
He affected her when he came close. He saw the difference in her every time. Her breathing changed, and she would not let herself look directly into his eyes. She moved away from him now.
“I know of those birds. But I’ve never seen them.”
“Then this week you will,” he told her. “I’ve told Bryce I’d train with him and the men some of the mornings. But I’ll be free any day you’re available. What do you say to that? Give me a day.”
“I don’t know. I have to check with Ailein. She might need me with her every day.” She started back toward the castle.
He fell in beside her. “By going with me, you might actually be helping her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell Bryce that you and I won’t be around for a day. Imagine what those two will be able to do with the hours that we’re gone.”
The blush colored her cheek again. She sent him a quick glance. “There are certain things I’d prefer not to imagine.”
Conall chided himself inwardly. The words came out coarser than he intended. He had little practice in the art of wooing. He’d never needed to learn.
“I promise you we don’t even have to think about them when it’s just the two of us.”
“I’ll have to consider that excursion. It might not be . . . well, it might not be the best thing to go out on our own for any distance from Girnigoe.”
“You are concerned because of propriety.”
“I care nothing about propriety. I care nothing about what people think. My reputation is my own to keep.”
“Then what is it?”
They reached the door into the castle. She pulled it open. His attraction to her grew every time they met. Suddenly, he had to know. He took her elbow, stopping her from going in.
“Is there someone else? Another man?”
Innes’s face lifted. Her gray eyes looked directly into his. There was no fear in them, no shyness, no reserve. “There is no one else. And there has never been.”
He was relieved. “Then why do you wear black?”
She paused for the length of a breath and looked away before speaking. “Why I wear black . . . who I am . . . cannot be explained in a few casual words between friends.”
“Then we are friends.”
She hesitated and then nodded.
He took her chin and lifted her face until she was again looking into his eyes. “Friends trust each other, don’t they?”
“Aye,” she whispered. “I am sorry. Perhaps someday I’ll tell you the real story of Innes Munro.”
Conall watched her disappear through the door.
From the window of Ailein’s bedchamber, Innes watched the men training in the courtyard of the Outer Ward. Her attention was focused on only one of them.
> Sweat glistened on Conall’s bare chest as he hammered the straw-covered post with the sword in his left hand. Spinning and slashing, backing and charging, parrying and thrusting, he pushed his body through the fierce training.
“Even with one hand, he’s still a fearsome opponent.”
Innes jumped. She hadn’t realized her sister had left Jinny and the seamstress at the far end of the room.
“Your husband is a great fighter, too,” Innes said.
She hoped Ailein wouldn’t press her for details, for her gaze barely strayed for a moment from Conall’s muscular frame. Even from this distance, Innes could clearly see the marks on his back. She hugged her middle, recalling the day that she felt his pain, felt the lashes cutting open his skin. She blinked to stop the tears suddenly burning her eyes.
“Why do you continue to avoid Conall?” Ailein asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Innes fixed her gaze on the yard again. The training regimen he followed was brutal. Ten had started with him. As she watched, two more put up their swords and left the area. Now only Conall and Bryce remained.
“You’ve been avoiding him this week. He asked me at supper last night if I could ease the chores I assign to you so he could take you on a day of riding.”
Innes bit her lip. She’d repeatedly used her sister as an excuse to delay their excursion. She was afraid, afraid of what could develop between them if they were left alone. She remembered what it was like when his fingers brushed the hair behind her ear. And then the kiss. However chaste, she remembered the pressure of his lips, the excitement rushing through her. And before she left the strand, she couldn’t forget the intensity of his eyes when he asked if they were friends. She thought of him night and day.
She had no armor left to keep Conall at bay. Spending more time with him simply meant that she would have to lie. About her gift. And she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t lie to him, and that meant she had to reveal the power of the stone. Would he understand and accept a woman who saw and felt the pain of his past? Innes was confused, plagued by her own wants, her own fears.
“Chores?” Ailein repeated incredulously. “Shall I tell him that your only chore has been coming here and watching him train down there every day?”
Taming the Highlander Page 10