A prickling sensation raked over her body. Her voyeur was still near. She bent down, scooped up her dress, vest, and slippers, then trotted toward camp. She shoved aside the urge to slip on dry clothes over her still-damp skin.
Not with someone watching me.
With her bundle held in front like a shield, she entered the clearing then stopped in her tracks. Dozens of people swung their attention her way. Kirk, propped lazily against a tree, pushed off and headed straight for her.
Haven froze in place, clad only in a small bit of linen. With her chin raised, she watched him march closer. Dismay etched his face. Even if it hadn’t been Kirk peeking at her, she’d let him know exactly how she felt about his merry band of perverts.
“My lady? Why are ye not dressed?” Lowering his voice he said, “Ye take chances among my men.”
“And I asked for privacy. Since you did not give me that, I’ll wait until you remedy the situation. I believe a tent would suffice.”
“We do not stop here today. To pitch a tent is a delay we cannot afford. What did ye find wrong with the river? Ye had privacy. Even now, the other ladies wait patiently to be allowed their bath.” His arm swung to his side, pointing out the various women holding similar bundles.
“I’m sorry if they were inconvenienced. This wasn’t my intention.” She offered the group of women a smile. “Someone spied on me from the trees.”
His eyes widened and a growl made her step back two paces.
“Don’t get mad at me.”
“Search out the scoundrel!” His bellow had several armed men hustling down the trail, toward the river.
“Please come this way, my lady,” said the older woman, Anice. “We shall hold up our clean dresses to curtain ye, and ye may change within.”
Haven smiled then followed them to some trees. She walked behind the quickly built fortress of fabric and pulled on dry clothes.
Gavina hadn’t joined them.
Instead, she stood off to the side staring from Kirk to her. Haven’s first thought? To inform her that nothing was going on between her and Kirk.
But, I’d rather not lie.
* * * * *
Hours later, when night had descended on their group and the men had set up camp beneath the protective canopy of an unfamiliar forest, Haven’s anger turned formidable. Even when a man began to play a tune on a lute-like instrument, her stomach twisted and her shoulders shook at the audacity of whoever had watched her bathe.
When another man joined in with a small drum, she willed her body to relax. The melody eventually soothed her with its carefree notes. Several men obviously felt the same, since three jumped up and danced. Their joyful hops, up-stretched arms, and gay music pacified her anger.
Tension eased from her knotted neck muscles. After an excruciating day, weariness drove her toward her tent. She lit a small, fat candle with a flaming twig, then walked inside. The tent stood far from the light and warmth of the campfire, but she welcomed the illusion of privacy.
Grumbling men had left the impromptu party to stand guard while they cursed whoever followed them. The women fixed and then offered a simple meal, but she had no appetite. Their play acting was too out-of-this world. She kept waiting for someone to jump from the trees and yell cut.
After removing most of her clothes, Haven sank into wool blankets and silky furs without bothering to wash. “The pleasure of bathing has lost its appeal.”
“I am sorry to hear this.” Kirk said as he slipped inside the tent. “Imagining ye splashing naked in a stream makes my life more pleasurable.”
“What do you want?”
He placed a platter of something brown and steamy beside the bed.
Since she wore only her thin chemise, Haven pulled the furs up to her neck. Her unease intensified when he began to strip.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Outrage had her gripping the furs while she rose to a sitting position. She’d raised her voice, and he stopped unfurling his plaid from around his waist.
“I am tired, Haven. This day has been long. I need sleep. Move to the side or move beneath me. Either choice shall find me unconscious and unaware of yer charms til morning.”
He turned away and finished undressing. When he bent over to lay his folded great plaid on the ground, she swallowed. Candle light flickered over his tawny skin and muscular buttocks. Thigh muscles bunched and stretched as he straightened then sat on the edge of the bed.
His sigh echoed in the semidarkness of their tent. A tent she had wrongly assumed was all hers. His boots hit the ground with a dull thud. His spicy scent surrounded her until she smelled stew.
“Is the food for me?”
“I brought enough for both.” He turned toward her and offered her a slice of bread. She scooped a mouthful of stew then chewed. She stared haphazardly at his profile as he ate. His lips pulled at his scar as he ate. His pain-filled grimaces made her yearn to reach out and lay her fingers against his wound to offer comfort.
A better thought sprang to mind, and she jumped from bed. Haven discarded her blanket, ignored her near-nakedness, and grabbed a small bowl. She poured water from the water skin, dug a few packets of powders from her saddlebag, and returned to his side.
“What are ye up to, lass?”
“Sit still.” Haven pulled her attention from his nakedness, sat beside him, and spread a thin poultice over the scar on his face.
He grimaced, then shivered.
“Does it hurt?” She stilled her hand, worried she’d made his agony worse.
“No. ‘Tis cool. And it smells. What is this?”
“A simple medication, like the stuff I put on Balfour’s burn and Reid’s shoulder.” She wiped off her fingers and placed the bowl beside the empty platter. When she turned back, she accidently rubbed against his naked thigh.
Heat flashed through her. Haven’s skin bristled with desire. Could he smell her arousal? Here she sat beside a handsome Highlander wannabe.
Who am I to argue with my good fortune?
“Are you too tired to play?” she whispered, then bit her lower lip.
Why am I taunting him?
He wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, careful to miss her poultice. Then he lowered his tankard of ale to the floor and blew out the candle. He climbed beneath the coverings before she had a chance to see anything.
Every finger trembled as she reached for him in the dark. When she connected with his chest, she curled her fingertips in the soft curls that lay between his nipples. His breathing grew raspy, yet he did not move to touch her. Gaining a sense of empowerment over such a domineering example of Scottish brute force, Haven slid her fingernails beneath the furs, down his chest, then his abdomen.
His fist grabbed her hand before she slid much farther, so Haven draped her entire body over his chest. A groan broke the silence inside the darkened tent. Had the noise come from him?
Might have been me.
Romance wasn’t on the menu, tonight. She and Kirk would never form a lasting relationship, but this didn’t keep her from wondering how he’d taste. She giggled.
“What are ye laughing at?”
“I wonder how you taste.”
“My lady has forgotten? We kissed along the banks of—”
“I want to taste more than lips.”
“Ye either speak in riddles, or tease a man no end. Which be it?”
Haven smiled. The air had grown thick and sexually charged, especially when he threaded his fingers through her hair to keep her in place. She licked one nipple until he squirmed then turned her attention to the other. He tasted deliciously salty.
“‘Tis wondrous what yer doing, lass.”
“You taste like heaven.” His musky scent made her ache between her legs. His fingers loosened as he gave in to pleasure. Desire welled up inside her, but she wanted him to come, this time.
Inside the dark of the tent, Haven purred and licked her way lower until the huge head of his cock connected with her hungry mou
th. She wondered at his cries of distress, as if he’d never had a woman pleasure him in such a manner.
Her tongue and lips made fast work of his pulsing erection. Too soon, Kirk exploded in her mouth, and she swallowed before releasing him.
Sweet.
She pressed delicate kisses to his quivering flesh and listened.
Kirk lay immobile and quiet.
Too quiet.
Haven crawled up his thighs and rested her head on the lightly furred blanket of his powerful chest, and reveled in the erratic beat of his heart.
I caused that, she thought, smiling.
Before she could think of a polite way to ask for her own release, he flipped her on her back. With his face soon planted between her legs, she squirmed in protest. She hadn’t expected him to satisfy her in return, but she felt her muscles weaken as her resolve fled. Orgasmic bliss peaked too quickly. She bit down on her own palm to keep from waking the whole camp with her screams.
* * * * *
Morning came early. Haven rose with a grumbled curse on her lips. She was still sleepy. The others were breaking camp, so she dressed in haste. She noticed she’d woken alone. Haven swallowed hard, then stepped outside. Reid brought her pony to her then assisted her by strapping her saddlebag onto the borrowed pony. He helped her mount then passed her a water skin.
“Thank you, Reid.”
He offered up a shy smile, nodded, then trotted toward his place with the wagons. Other men casually walked around clad only in their boots before slipping into their plaids. As the group started their trek once more, she thought about these men and their simple ways. They flaunted their nakedness without a second thought.
Yet, when she had wrapped her lips around Kirk’s erection last night, he’d arched off the bed as if bitten. When she refused to give up her prize, he eventually lay back and gave in to her seduction. She warned him numerous times to keep quiet, since the tent walls were paper-thin.
Pleasant memories tempered the aches in her shoulders and thighs as the hours passed. Traveling through desolate stretches of open fields and rocky mountain valleys, a yearning to taste him again made her lick her lips.
The group rode past miles of ever changing landscape. Tall pines gave way to boggy fields bordered by scrub trees. High peaks melted into rocky-topped hillocks and convinced Haven the day would never end. She also feared they traveled in the wrong direction.
She clenched her teeth and tried to keep her cool, but anxious energy made her jittery. Enough was enough. She pressed her knees against the sides of her pony, forced her way to the head of the column, and rode beside Kirk.
“Yes, Lady Haven?”
“Tell me who spied on me. Then, tell me where we are. I need to get home.”
“Ye sound in a hurry to leave us. I thought ye enjoyed our protection, our food, and our company.”
“I don’t recall having much to eat last night.” Suddenly, her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She fought to recover her composure while memories of last night shot through her like a bolt of lightning.
Kirk had made love to her with his fingers and mouth. She’d fallen asleep cuddled within his embrace. Until he slipped away before morning.
“I recall you had quite the appetite.”
“Yes, last night was lovely, but I want to go home,” she lied. Haven twirled a loose strand of hair. The promise of more than kissing filled his gaze. They had shared a magical night, but it never ventured past oral stimulation. He hadn’t forced her into outright sex, and she’d been more than satisfied.
Until she returned to familiar surroundings, Haven didn’t have time to consider a new relationship. She stayed with him to keep safe.
“I have not forgotten yer concern about being watched. My warriors found no one except Cameron.” He pointed toward the handsome Viking giant who rode ahead. “He claimed he was inspecting our mounts. He stood far down stream and assured me he neither heard nor spied anyone trespass near yer bathing area.”
Cameron rubbed her the wrong way, so she wasn’t surprised when he spun his mount, pushed her horse to the far side of the trail, and joined Kirk.
Nope, I won’t be bullied. Not today.
Haven kicked her pony and drove in between the two men. Cameron glared at her, then rode away.
“Kirk, could the person who spied on me be one of the mercenaries following us?”
Kirk’s pursed lips and sudden silent mood caused a shiver of apprehension. He seemed to ponder her theory, so she concentrated on the clop of hooves and the chatter of birds to soothe her uneasiness.
“If the person ye felt watching is one of those who sought to harm ye, have no fear. We shall reach our destination soon. Ye shall be safe inside the castle.”
“Castle Ruadh? Is that your home?” His statement hadn’t relieved her mind. When he did not answer, she kicked her pony forward and blocked his larger horse’s path. “Talk to me.”
“Haven—”
“Please?” she whispered, leaning toward him.
Her plea seemed to surprise him. She sensed he held something back. Whatever the truth, it bothered him more than a spy sneaking around the trees.
“Our destination is the keep of Clan Keith. They have been our mortal enemies since time began.”
Haven gazed at his face, but his eyes would not meet hers.
He’s hiding something.
His frown deepened and pulled his scar into a ragged line, more pink than red. The poultice had worked its magic. Had he noticed?
“We have welcomed ye and allowed ye to join us on this journey. Ye claim to be lost. Those mercenaries may not give up. Yer safety lies with me and mine.”
“I appreciate what you’ve done, but—”
“If ye choose to leave, I can give ye a pony, some food, and two warriors. ‘Tis all I can do. At journey’s end, my destiny awaits and there be no place in it for ye.”
Haven’s heart grew cold at the thought of leaving him. Almost as suddenly, curiosity about their destination bubbled up. But, she couldn’t think of a witty comeback. Supposedly, he had it all figured out.
His destiny awaits and I’m not part of it.
“First they get you into bed then feed you lies.” Cal had used her then tossed her aside, too. Men were all alike.
“Did ye say something, my lady?”
“I said I don’t appreciate being taken hostage like this. Someone must know the way back to Lincoln.”
“A small town lies ahead. Perhaps they might be able to tell ye the direction to this Lincoln.”
“A town? We’re coming to a town?” Thoughts of a phone, a soft bed, and a hot bath forced a smile to tug at her lips.
“Aye.”
“Great.” Haven nudged her pony to head back to the wagons, brushing off the feeling that Kirk was less than happy. She found Reid and rode alongside as he repeated camp gossip.
Staring far ahead at the tall, strong back of Kirkwall Gunn, she wished she had another reason to stay. Her body wanted Kirk, but the man was irritatingly proper, as if he tried to block their relationship before he broke her heart.
Too late.
* * * * *
Haven gazed at the town that sprouted as if from the pages of a history book. The forest trail had brought their group to the edge of a wide square. Piles of steamy horse manure littering the street made her nose crinkle.
She followed Kirkwall as he led the group toward unpainted buildings made of what looked like bricks of dried earth and grass Others looked liked piled stones.
How odd.
And what’s with the thatched roofs? The buildings resembled cottages in Scotland travel posters she’d drooled over at the travel booth at the Highland games. Tendrils of smoke rose into the sky from crude chimneys. Overhead clouds thickened above her head, and a chill raced across her neck.
Haven shifted under the shawl she’d draped about her shoulders. Kirk had offered it to her several miles back, the same time he’d pulled his own plaid up into a hood.
The wool immediately warmed her while the weave of rich colors brought forth a moan of delight. He explained how they created colorful wool by boiling the yarn with berries and other plants. With her body satisfied and warm, her mind raced as she focused on the primitive setting.
“No cell towers, not even a building taller than two stories,” she whispered. Fear trickled down her spine. A well stood in the middle of the square surrounded by women of various ages. Other women balanced coarsely woven baskets on their hips and disappeared down a trail Haven’s group had exited.
Heading for the river we passed, I guess.
From the corner of her eye, she watched Kirk. Haven yearned for him to be real, but all roads led to a scary thought.
Is this all a dream?
Perspiration dripped between her breasts. From fear, not heat. Had the bolt of lightning that preceded her journey thrown her into a coma?
Am I dead?
Kirkwall dismounted, muscles flexing.
If I am, Heaven might not be all bad.
Their party halted in front of a building whose smell reminded her of her favorite diner back home. The aroma of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread filled the air, and made Haven’s empty stomach growl.
Dusty barrels were stacked nearby. A butter churn sat by an open door, where a dull roar issued forth. Everything looked surreal, and certainly not of her world.
Kirk tied his mount to a post in the ground near a crude horse trough. While his horse gulped water, Haven slid off before anyone assisted her, then led her horse to the water.
Please don’t let Kirk be just a dream.
He turned and gave her a look as if he’d overheard her prayer. Concern etched his tanned brow. He strode toward her, tossed his hood off his head, then reached for Haven. Fighting the sensations that peppered her skin, she lost. She succumbed to the delicious heat and darkness as he gathered her close.
She relished his touch even as she knew it wouldn’t last. His hands and arms were real. Large fingers caressed her back through her dress. His ministrations soothed her muscles and created new warmth between her legs.
All thoughts of intimacy fled when Reid ran toward them from the pub entrance. Kirk took the offered tankard and drank.
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