Kept by the Highlander

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Kept by the Highlander Page 2

by Joanna Davis


  In short, she was devastatingly pretty. She was almost too beautiful. He was having trouble tearing his eyes away. It was far worse than he'd imagined when he'd only seen her eyes. The Princess looked like an angel, but judging from the mischievous look in her eyes, she was more akin to a devil.

  A barefoot devil.

  "Come, sit. You must be weary."

  She turned abruptly and walked back to a table with two chairs. There were cushions and a low bench along both walls. Several servants sat there, embroidering cloth. They looked well cared for and happy. That boded well.

  He watched as she sat in the chair and smiled at him. She looked rather pleased with herself. She gestured to the chair across from her and he sat. It felt incredible to be clean again and sitting in a chair instead of laying in his own filth.

  "I am sorry about the collar. I cannot free you at the moment unfortunately. There is no hope for it. Al Hakam would never allow it."

  He jerked his gaze to hers. She was staring at him earnestly, obviously waiting for a response. He nodded.

  "You must be circumspect in all things, but most especially in his presence. Then again he has spies everywhere so please, keep your profile low."

  He smiled at her slightly awkward English. It was charming.

  "I will."

  She sighed and stood, pacing again. He found it difficult to look away, as each step caused the silk to tighten around her delightful form. Hot lust pooled in his stomach.

  "Look at this, Scotsman! Someone even told him of my latest shipment of books! All destroyed!"

  She turned in a circle and eyeballed her servants.

  "If any of you have been spying- I will be very cross!"

  The servants smiled at her adoringly. They were not afraid of her, that much was apparent. Maybe he would be able to keep his manhood after all. She obviously meant him no harm. This Al Hakam character sounded ominous though. He would have to bide his time and see if escape was possible. His grandfather would have sent word to his family in Scotland already. He closed his eyes, knowing his mother the Lady Alice must be worrying herself sick.

  At the moment though, he had no desire to escape. He wanted to stay here with the Princess as long as possible. He could not have explained it if he tried.

  Jesu, but he wanted to kiss the perturbed look off her face!

  "Tell me Scotsman- what do you think was in these pages? International intrigue? Politics? Sex?"

  He would have laughed if the Princess had not been so earnest. So, she was curious about sex was she? He would be more than happy to be the one to teach her such things…

  A furtive knocking sounded at the door. Instantly the room sprang into action. Clearly it had been a warning.

  "Here- go with them Scotsman! Quickly. Keep your head down."

  He was pulled across the room to kneel with the other servants on the floor cushions. He realized they were crowding around him to conceal him, though considering his size it was a futile effort. He glanced up to see the Princess adjusting her veil and slipping her shoes back on.

  The door opened suddenly and a man stood there. He was dressed as a king might be, lacking only a crown. Dark robes of the finest embroidered silk, a long beard, and piercing dark eyes. Malcolm could feel the evil radiating off the man. This must be Al Hakam.

  He snuck a look and felt his stomach drop as he watched Al Hakam walk forward with a sickly sweet smile on his face. The King's advisor was smiling, but he looked as if he wanted to devour the Princess. Malcolm glanced at her, wondering if she realized the man's intentions. He oozed lust of a very specific kind. He didn't just want to take her, he wanted to destroy her.

  Princess Kalila was standing straight up with her shoulders back and chin raised. The stance made her voluptuous bosom even more pronounced.

  Sweet Jesu.

  He stared at the ground again, trying to distract himself from this damnable arousal.

  "Your Highness. It is an honor to be invited inside your chambers."

  "Al Hakam, you know very well you were not invited. You also did not bother to knock or wait for my permission to enter."

  "Oh? I was certain I heard you bade me enter. No matter. I have come because I received word of your new slave. You know I must interview anyone who comes into the palace."

  "You mean interrogate."

  Malcolm realized suddenly that he was on thin ice indeed. If the man wanted her, he would not allow a virile young man to be in her presence. He sunk down a little lower.

  "Call it what you will, but it must be done."

  "It is not necessary."

  "But your Highness-"

  "Thank you for your visit Al Hakam. It has been a long and trying day and I wish to rest."

  Malcolm slanted his eyes to the side, watching Al Hakam bow and back out of the room. Anger radiated off the man. This was clearly not over. But she had managed her adversary well. He was impressed.

  The moment the doors closed the Princess slumped. Servants rushed to her side, consoling her with gentled pats and kisses to her hands. She stood there, accepting the show of affection as her due. The servants then guided her to her chair.

  Blessed Saints the gel was spoiled rotten! Brave yes, startlingly intelligent, certainly, but spoiled beyond reckoning! If she was his woman, he'd have to attend to that. He shook his head, clearing it of such impractical, impossible thoughts.

  Just then the doors opened again. Servants entered bearing trays of food. The trays were placed on tables throughout the room. A final tray bearing a solid gold carafe and several cups was placed on the table in front of the Princess. She waved him over.

  "Come Mal-colm. You will tell me if our pomegranate water is comparable to the beverages in your fine Scottish Highlands."

  The way she mispronounced his name was adorable. Even the way she was staring at him imperiously was appealing. Malcolm had a sudden premonition that he was in worse trouble than he'd thought.

  He sat and watched as she poured him a cup.

  "But wait! We forgot the most important part! Come!"

  He followed her gracefully swaying hips to the back of the chamber. They passed an open doorway where he glimpsed a large bed. To the other side was another chamber with a large bathing pool. And straight ahead was a walled garden unlike anything he had ever seen.

  A tiled fountain sat in the center, surrounded by plants of every sort. There were fruit trees everywhere, mostly of varieties he had never seen before. Pillows and low chaise lounges were everywhere. It was sumptuous in the extreme. The Princess guided him unerringly to a lemon tree on the far side of the garden.

  She reached up to pluck a low hanging fruit and he could not resist staring at her lithe form. He lifted his eyes hastily when she turned, bright eyed and smiling. He inhaled sharply at the trusting look in her gaze. They were completely alone he realized with a start. He could easily overpower her, take her hostage, use her to manage his own escape.

  Somehow though, he could not bring himself to do it.

  It was because he was weak and hungry he told himself. There would be plenty of other opportunities. He would bide his time.

  She cocked her head at him, holding out the bright yellow fruit.

  "Now all we need is a knife ! Yes?"

  "Yes, your Highness."

  She grinned at him and flounced back through the garden to the chamber. Once again, he could not help but stare at her as her body moved in such a delightfully feminine way. And he could not help but notice her bed again as they passed the open doorway. The blankets were a deep purple with brightly colored pillows sprinkled everywhere.

  He could do a lot with a bed that size.

  Malcolm pinched his hand, trying to distract himself from the heavy feeling in his limbs. Blood was starting to course through his body, straight to his loins. He was trying to hold onto his manhood, not attract attention to it!

  The Princess held up her prize and called out for a knife. In seconds a knife was procured and the lemo
n was duly sliced. They sat again and she prepared the beverage.

  Then she lifted her cup and sipped daintily, indicating he should do the same. He sipped his drink and let the spicy sweetness float over his tongue.

  "And so?"

  "It is delicious. Thank you."

  "Oh, but I'm keeping you from eating! Please, eat your fill. Aluda, bring him a plate. Pile it high. No skimping!"

  The Princess watched him as he ate with gusto. He did his best to pace himself, but the food was so delicious and he was ravenous. He was taking another bite of spiced lamb when he caught her looking at him.

  She was looking at his mouth.

  His arousal was back instantly, making him almost groan in frustration. Apparently she was drawn to him as well. This was not a happy turn of events. Then again, he might be able to ease himself somewhat, depending on how curious she was.

  And how foolhardy he was.

  "It is good? You want to eat more?"

  "Not right now, thank you. Yes, very good. More than good."

  He grinned at her, letting his own gaze drop to her inviting berry colored lips.

  "Delicious."

  She was giving him an assessing look, as if she knew what he was thinking. Then she tossed her head in that arrogant way she had. The Princess reminded him of a proud mare, well aware of her beauty. He closed his eyes briefly, imaging himself covering her as a stallion took a mare.

  There was no use for it. He was doomed to spend his days here in constant arousal. He would simple have to learn to master it.

  "Tell me, how did a Scotsman end up here?"

  "My Grandfather was selected by King Richard to explore this region. He asked me to come along."

  She raised an eyebrow at that.

  "You are surely regretting that decision now."

  He stared at her. She was so intensely earnest. It was entrancing.

  "Not entirely."

  Now both of her graceful eyebrows shot up in a show of disbelief. She did not hide her emotions well. Then again, perhaps that was only here, in her chamber amongst her trusted servants. She'd barely batted an eyelash when Al Hakam was here.

  "Well Scotsman, I am afraid your fate is tied to mine. If my father seeks to wed me to one of your Prince's I will bring you with me, as a gift. But if they drag this marriage selection on forever, I can do nothing to free you. In the meantime, you can teach me much I think."

  He nodded. She was as trapped as he was in a way.

  "We will begin tomorrow Scotsman. I must rest."

  She sighed and leaned back. Instantly a servant was there, sliding a stool underneath her feet. Another approached with a harp and started playing. Aluda slipped behind her and started gently unravelling Kalila's ornate braids. A round faced serving girl shooed him away, gesturing toward the pillows along the wall. He sat, cross legged as he watched the servants massage and caress the Princess. Her eyes were closed and her mouth sweetly parted. One of the servants had stripped away her veils and was rubbing oil into her scalp and temples.

  Her hair was glorious as it was spread out behind her, hanging nearly to the floor in a sheet of dark silk. She was falling asleep under their tender ministrations. He stared as she twisted in the chair, her silk dress pulling tightly against her chest.

  He was breathing heavily as he watched the incredibly erotic scene unfold before him. Two girls were massaging the Princess's hands and arms while another knelt at her feet. He would gladly have swapped places with any of them. Malcolm groaned softly and pulled a pillow into his lap.

  After what felt like an eternity, the servants carefully lifted the sleeping Princess and carried her out of the room.

  Malcolm exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath. He leaned back and closed his eyes, ignoring the servants who bustled about, clearing the remnants of the meal from the room.

  Perhaps he had been executed after all. He must have sinned enough in his lifetime for Saint Peter to bar him entrance to the Kingdom of God. Because surely, this was hell. A gloriously tempting hell, but full of exquisite tortures all the same.

  Four

  Kalila woke with the sun and padded out into her garden. Today she would work with her new tutor, learning much. She would also go through her books and see if anything was salvageable.

  She sat at the edge of the fountain, letting her fingers glide through the clear cool water.

  "Highness, you know you should not be out here alone."

  Aluda stood there, with her tutor at her shoulder. A flash of jealousy shot through her. What were they doing together? Her servant was quite pretty and unlike Kalila, not banned from contact with men. If they fell in love, Kalila would be all alone.

  Where had that come from? She brought her wayward thoughts back into focus. Anyway, the Scotsman was staring at her, not her pretty handmaiden. In fact, he was not merely staring. He was- she stood up slowly transfixed by the strange look on his face. His eyes flared as they traveled down her body.

  Kalila gasped as she realized that her nightgown must be translucent. It was made of the finest cotton and was clearly giving the man quite a sight. His mouth was open and something strange was happening at the front of his tunic. It was lifting away from his body, as if by magic. Instead of being outraged, however, she was fascinated.

  "Leave us Aluda."

  The maid's eyes widened but she did as she was instructed.

  Kalila walked toward the Scotsman who was looking both alarmed and sleepy somehow- judging from the hooded look in his eyes. His face was flushed and his breathing rapid.

  "Are you ill?"

  He shook his head softly, not stopping his slow perusal of her body. She glanced down. There was a distinctive tent rising in the front of his white garment.

  "What is this then if not some malady?"

  He swallowed as she stared, his thick adams apple bobbing in his throat.

  "It is desire."

  He gasped as her hand skimmed the front of his body. She looked up at him curiously. He had a hard look on his face, as if he wanted to do something very badly.

  "It pains you?"

  "Yes, in a way."

  She brushed her hand across it again.

  "Does this have to do with mating?"

  He swallowed, his throat moving under her gaze.

  "Yes."

  "Ah… so you would mate with me."

  He stared at her, not answering. She let her hand brush him again.

  "I would see this organ of yours. It seems to be quite impressive. Is it large?"

  He was breathing quickly as she reached for the bottom of his hem.

  "Please your Highness- do not-"

  She stopped.

  "It shames you?"

  He said nothing again. Just stared at her, looking utterly miserable.

  "And yet you have no trouble looking at me. This does not seem fair."

  He laughed then, a strangled sound.

  "Princess… I beg you… do not."

  There was a warning in his voice. She bristled immediately at his tone. Her hand reached for him again, touching him gently but insistently through his garments.

  "I do not like to be told what to do, slave."

  His eyes narrowed at the reminder of his position.

  "You are here to serve me, are you not?"

  He nodded curtly.

  "Good. Then do not gainsay me again."

  She had been pressing her palm against him. Abruptly she stepped back, letting her hand fall away. He reacted instantly. It almost looked as if he hadn't truly wanted her to stop. That was interesting.

  Very interesting indeed.

  **********

  Malcolm was sitting on the floor in the Princess's chamber, staring at the chess board that sat between them. She was leaning back on her cushions, looking fetching as always. But there was something doleful in her glance. Her curiosity had not been satisfied by their encounter in the garden he knew.

  Hell, she wasn't the only one.

 
He'd been wondering a lot of things himself. How far she was going to take things, for one. What she would do if- no, when- he kissed her and tossed her skirts up so he could avail himself of her body.

  If he had the chance to escape, he was already planning on taking her with him.

  Whether or not she would go willingly was a moot point.

  Princess Kalila moved her knight, taking his bishop. She was one move from checkmate, unless he used evasive action. He wondered if she knew it. She leaned back and gazed at him expectantly. She was a skilled player, but he had not realized how skilled until that moment.

  "Tell me again about these High-Lands."

  "It's one word. Highlands."

  "Highlands."

  "Very good."

  He moved his queen out of the way. She pouted in disappointment. But he knew she would have been more disappointed if he let her win too easily. Her brow furrowed as she contemplated her next move.

  "The Highlands are wild and untamed. Completely free of the laws on England, despite what the King might believe."

  "They sound dangerous."

  "They are. They are also some of the most beautiful lands in all the world."

  "You have travelled extensively?"

  She was pulling on a long strand of hair, chewing on her bottom lip as she studied the board. He watched her, enjoying both the view and their battle of wits.

  "I have."

  He leaned back onto his pillows, crossing his long legs. She looked up, taking in his frame. He was smiling sensuously at her when she raised her eyes again. He realized that he was treating her as you might treat a bed partner, not a Royal Princess. Still, he could not seem to help himself.

  "You are lucky. I have only this room as my world."

  He frowned. It seemed criminal to lock such a bright and beautiful creature away. He felt almost sorry for her in that moment, spoiled and vain as she was.

 

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