“Dugan, please . . .”
He unbuckled his belt and tossed his plaid aside, and Maura reveled in the sight of his brawny chest and arms, of his flat nipples and tight abdomen. Her eyes grazed the dusting of hair that trailed down his belly to the long, thick heat of him.
He lowered his mouth to her breasts, teasing them with his tongue as he slid his hand down again to the sensitive nub between her legs. Her breath came in soft pants as he pleasured her, creating that maelstrom she craved. Her heart seemed to stop as her muscles tightened, and then he kissed her so deeply, she felt her desire peaking yet again. He spread her legs with his thigh and positioned himself right where Maura needed him most.
She felt him move against her, and her body was ready.
He raised himself over her, his arms at her sides. Poised. Ready. And yet he stopped moving. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
“Dugan?”
“Ach, Maura. What am I—”
He moved off her and reached for a square of linen lying on the washstand beside the bed.
A moment later, he collapsed on the bed beside her.
Dugan felt shaken. His pulse still hammered in his ears and he felt as raw as an open wound. He might have spent himself into a convenient cloth, but he felt nowhere near satisfied. Even now he had to fight the urge to begin all over again, to revel in Maura’s innocent sensuality, to plunge into her and make her his own.
But she belonged to Kildary. Thank God he’d regained his senses before breaching her forbidden territory.
Her body was warm and soft, and he pulled the blanket over them and drew her into his arms, forcing some semblance of control. That control was a tenuous thing, especially when she trailed her fingers up his chest and—
He took hold of her hand and held it fast against his overheated skin.
“Maura, we cannot.”
She pressed her lips to his neck, then his chin, and his cock roared to life again. He ignored his better judgment and rolled her onto her back. He kissed her, his desire warring with his good sense. He craved her with every breath, every beat of his heart. She tasted like unrestrained need when he mated his tongue with hers. Tasted like folly. And he could not stop. Not this time.
“Dugan,” she murmured between kisses.
“Hmm.”
“I know where the treasure is hidden.”
It didn’t surprise him. “Aye, lass. And so does the Duke of Argyll. I’ll have to make it to Loch Monar before him if I’m going to have it, and it might not be there, anyway.”
He skimmed his hand down to her breast. And a bonny morsel of womanly flesh it was. He slid down and touched his tongue to her nipple. She took a sharp breath and melted against him. She was a singular female, and he feared he would never get his fill of her.
“Is that where you think it is? Loch Monar?” She tipped her head back and looked at him with what could only be astonishment in her eyes. “The gold isn’t at Loch Monar, Dugan,” she whispered.
He stopped. “No? Then where might it be, and why haven’t you mentioned it before?”
“I only just discovered the key. Argyll might believe it’s Loch Monar, but he’s wrong.”
Dugan’s hand stopped moving, and the incredible sensations that had begun to grow once again dissipated. Maura closed her eyes and swallowed, fighting to compose herself.
Oh Lord, what had she done? Become intimate with the very man who’d taken her captive and intended to turn her over to Kildary. What kind of dolt was she? Becoming entangled with Dugan MacMillan was the worst possible thing she could have done.
But dear Lord, she wanted more. The desire to feel him inside her had not abated in the least.
It was sinfully wanton, and his lovemaking did not serve her purpose in any way. His kisses and caresses would not help her to get to Loch Camerochlan. Nor would they convince him to forgo his efforts to ransom her to Kildary.
But perhaps she could try and get him to change his mind. “If I tell you what I know, will you take me with you when you go for it?”
“Maura . . .” His tone made his thoughts clear.
Her eyes began to sting, but she would not succumb to tears. There could be no future between them, no matter how fiercely the attraction raged between them.
No matter how she might wish things could be different.
She’d known what mattered to him when she’d lain with him. It was not she. But Maura did not have to yield to his wishes. She had the upper hand.
“What is the key?” he growled.
He’d pointed out Loch Aveboyne on the map, so Maura knew where they had to go to find the gold. And so much the better if Argyll thought it was hidden at Loch Monar. It would give them more time.
“You must realize ’tis not in my best interest to tell you.”
He pushed himself up onto his hands and hovered over her. “Your best interests?”
“Exactly. But I will . . . show you where it is.”
Dugan rolled out of the bed and went for the map. Maura’s jaw dropped at the sight of his powerful body. All of it, naked before her. His muscles seemed carved of granite, and Maura knew he could have crushed her at any time. He might want to crush her after he heard her demand.
He brought the map to the bed and placed it on the blanket in front of her. “Where?”
Maura sat up in the bed, holding the blanket over her bare breasts. She felt absurdly naked, considering what had just transpired between them. “What I mean is . . . I will take you there.”
He seemed entirely unconscious of his nakedness as he stood before her, frowning fiercely. “No.”
She bit her lip and gathered the courage she needed to stand up to him. “Yes.”
Naught had changed between them. Her heart sank into an empty hole in her chest at the realization that his lovemaking had only seemed to link them deeply. He had not changed his plan to give her to Kildary in spite of the passion that arced between them.
“I will take you there b-because if I divulge what I know,” she said, “you’ll give me to Baron Kildary and go to—go to the site without me.”
Maura blinked back her unwelcome tears while Dugan stood unmoving, smoldering with anger.
“I’m not going to let you lock me up at Braemore Keep, Dugan MacMillan,” she said, moving onto her knees, “and then turn me over to Baron Kildary if he or his lackeys turn up with the ransom.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I don’t believe you.”
She shrugged, attempting to appear indifferent, but she knew she would never feel indifferent to him. She blinked away the tears that were welling in her eyes. “Be that as it may—the gold is not at Loch Monar, and the first chance I get, I’m going to go to Lo—” She stopped herself just in time. “I am going to go after the gold myself while you and Argyll waste your time at Loch Monar.”
Maura knew ’twas an empty threat, for Dugan would not let her out of his sight. Not after this.
She lay down and turned over in the bed, facing away from him, pulling the blanket tightly over her shoulder. She felt cold all over, and her body trembled, for naught that she’d ever experienced could compare with the intimacy they’d shared—only to have him betray her.
He was implacable.
And she was expendable.
Maura knew ’twould be a long time before she would be able to fall asleep, but it hurt too much to talk to him any more. Besides, she needed to give him some time to decide what he was going to do.
She heard him grumble as he pulled on his clothes. He blew out the candles, then pushed the chair to the door. To guard it, presumably. As though she could leave wearing naught but her shift.
Clearly, ’twould be a cold day in hell before he cared enough about her to keep her from Kildary.
Chapter 19
Morning dawned. Maura was still asleep and every bit as alluring as Dugan had found her last night, but at least his reason had returned. So had his anger.
He got up from his chair an
d stretched, and made a point of avoiding looking at her. When he thought of her sweet kisses, ’twas far too easy to contemplate abandoning his ransom demand.
He picked up his maps and left her sleeping while he went into the room where his men had slept. He wanted—needed—to consult with them.
Needed to put some space between himself and Maura before his anger could dissipate.
The men were all awake, and Dugan went directly to a table that stood by the window. He cleared everything from its surface and spread out the section of the map that showed Loch Monar. “Come here, all of you.”
“What is it, Dugan?” Lachann asked.
“What does this look like to you?” He pointed to Loch Monar.
“ ’Tis Loch Aveboyne,” Conall replied.
“No,” Lachann said. “ ’Tis more the shape of Loch Monar.” He pointed to another blue shape. “This is Aveboyne, north of Monar. See how much longer and narrower it is.”
“Aye,” Dugan replied. “Look closely at Loch Monar. Do you see any sign on this map that the gold might be hidden there?” Dugan stepped back and let the others study the document, hoping one of them would take note of the green mark.
The men shook their heads, all but Bryce. “Dugan, you do’na mean this green splotch of ink at the wee neck of land on the north shore?”
“ ’Tis naught but a blur of ink,” Lachann said, and Dugan heard a fair degree of incredulity in his tone. “Dugan, this is just the blue of the loch, blurred away from the main part.”
Conall frowned, lowering his head even closer to the map. “Mayhap not, Lachann. This is definitely a mark made in green paint, Laird.”
“Well, I am fairly sure this is Loch Monar, and the Duke of Argyll asked a few pointed questions about it last night,” Dugan said. “I think he’s heard of the gold and he intends to look there for it.”
The men were silent as they considered Dugan’s words.
“Just because Argyll believes it’s there doesn’t mean it is, Dugan,” said Lachann. “This mark . . . Well, it looks like naught to me.”
Dugan rubbed the back of his neck. The green spot was hardly the beacon that should draw him to Loch Monar.
“Well then, let’s find Loch Nan Eun. ’Tis another spot Argyll mentioned.” Though Dugan believed ’twas just a distraction from the site Argyll really believed in.
“I see naught,” Conall said.
Bryce shook his head.
“Dugan, I don’t think we can put all our hopes in this spot,” Lachann said, pointing to the green mark at Loch Monar.
“Nor I,” said Bryce.
Dugan let out a long breath. According to Maura, the gold was located elsewhere. Could he believe her?
Could he risk following Maura into the highlands merely because she claimed she’d figured out the key to the map and knew where the gold had been hidden? Or was she leading him on in the hope that his ransom plan would fall apart if she was not at Braemore when the baron arrived?
He should have known from the moment he’d seen Lady Maura facing down that ram by the waterfall that she was a force to be reckoned with.
Dugan could not help but hope he wasn’t about to make an even more serious error in judgment, worse than the enormous mistake he’d made the night before. As much as he did not like it, the lass belonged to Kildary. He’d been a fool to touch her.
A fool to want her.
But even now, he could not regret one moment that he’d spent in her bed. He wanted her still, wanted to wipe away the sheen of tears and kiss away the hurt expression in her eyes.
But he could not.
“Lachann, go to Caillich’s stable and try to get a look at Argyll’s baggage. See if you can determine how many men he brought with him and whether they have carts with shovels and picks.”
Lachann nodded and went to follow his brother’s orders. The other lads left to find Archie and hunt down some breakfast while Dugan shaved and washed and made himself ready to face Maura.
He admitted she had a very good reason to lie about discovering the key to the map. They both knew a delay in their arrival at Braemore could negate Dugan’s ransom demand. If Dugan did not produce his captive when Kildary or his men arrived at his keep, he might well forfeit the ransom.
On the other hand, if she helped him find the gold, she would be free to make her way up to Loch Camerochlan and take her sister wherever she decided to go.
Dugan didn’t want to give her to Kildary, but he surely did not care to think of her traveling all the way to Camerochlan alone, and then leaving Scotland for good.
Kieran and Calum would make haste in their journey to Cromarty to deliver the ransom demand, and Kildary or his men would leave immediately for Braemore. ’Twas what Dugan would do if his own bride were threatened.
But perhaps Dugan could delay Kildary at Braemore. It would take some days for the baron to travel all the way from Cromarty to the western highlands . . . By the time he arrived, Dugan might already have the French gold in his possession.
Dugan decided on a plan as he folded his plaid about his waist and fastened his belt. He would send Bryce to placate Kildary while he and the other men accompanied Maura to the location where she believed the gold was hidden. If they did not find it—well, then they would hurry back to Braemore and turn her over to Kildary.
Not that it would be easy, for Maura was certain not to cooperate.
There was no room in Maura’s heart for any fondness toward Laird MacMillan, in spite of what had transpired between them in her room the night before. Perhaps because of what had happened. She was so embarrassed to have bared not only her body, but her soul to him.
And he’d handed it right back to her when he declared there was no change in his plan to ransom her.
She’d been right to keep her knowledge about Loch Aveboyne from him. She prayed she would be able to find the loch, for ’twas the only chance she had for getting away from Lord Kildary and on to Loch Camerochlan.
Dugan must have significant doubts about Loch Monar actually being the location of the gold, because now he’d decided to trust her. Well, not actually trust her. ’Twas clear by his cold manner this morn that he had no particular liking for his predicament. She knew his preference to send her to Braemore had not changed. Their intimate interlude meant naught.
And so it would mean naught to Maura.
She had to get her hands on the other sections of the map, though, and try to make out the rest of the words that were etched on them. Perhaps Loch Aveboyne was not actually the location. Perhaps the rest of the message indicated that the gold was miles away from Aveboyne. Or sunk in the middle of the loch.
But at least she was not doomed to become Kildary’s bride. At least, not yet.
“Which way, Maura?” Dugan asked. His voice slid through her like warm honey. But she resisted any softening toward him.
“Where is Bryce?”
“I asked you a question, woman.”
She straightened her shoulders and bolstered her resolve. He would not intimidate her. “We travel northwest, as before.”
It was early, and no one but servants were about the castle bailey. The sun had not even crested the mountain peaks to the east, but Calum, Archie, and Lachann had already saddled their horses. They took their leave and rode down to the gates rather than waiting for Dugan and Maura.
Dugan set his jaw as he took her traveling bag from her, but something caught his attention as he tossed it onto the back of his saddle. “Wait here,” he commanded. “I mean it, Maura. Do not step away from this spot.”
Dugan hurried away toward the chandler’s shop across from the stable where a young maid—hardly more than a child—was hauling two heavy buckets, one in each hand. Maura’s heart clenched when she noticed the lass’s limping gait, and when she stumbled, Dugan lurched ahead to catch her before she fell.
He righted her and took the buckets from her hands. He carried them into the shop, and Maura could not help but defy his command a
nd approach the building when she heard low voices coming from inside.
“Are you such a neep, chandler, not to see how your lass struggles?”
“And who are ye to tell me m’ business?”
“I am laird of the MacMillans”—Dugan tipped slightly forward at the waist and pointed at the chandler—“and I’ll tell you what you clearly need to hear, man.”
“Get out of my shop.”
“Get the lass a cart so she can pull the buckets from the well rather than spilling half the water over the ground and herself.” By his tone, ’twas clear Dugan would not brook any argument.
“I do’na need ye t’ tell me—”
“Aye, you do. You’ll have a more efficient shop if you provide her with the tools to perform her tasks.”
An intense wave of emotion came over her as she watched the interchange between Dugan and the chandler, but Maura had no time to think about Dugan’s actions when he turned to leave the shop. She gathered her wits and hurried back to where he’d left her, standing beside his horse.
Their departure was delayed yet again by Bryce’s arrival. Dugan took the man aside and spoke quietly with him, then returned to Maura.
“Come on, then,” he said, lifting her up to his saddle.
He mounted behind her and they followed the path his men had just taken, with Bryce alongside them.
Maura had to remind herself to breathe. The man who would hand her over to Baron Kildary without a second thought had dashed to assist a lame child-servant who was no one to him. Until now, Deirdre Elliott’s husband was the only man Maura had ever seen come to Rosie’s aid. And Dugan had done even more for this child he did not even know. He’d admonished the lass’s master to accommodate her shortcoming.
She wanted to turn right around and kiss him.
But that would not do, not at all.
They began their day’s ride as Maura considered what Dugan intended to do. It seemed he was going to follow her directions and hasten to the site where she believed the gold was hidden. In the meantime, he would send someone—Bryce—to Braemore to await Kildary. He needed someone to placate the baron if he arrived at Braemore before Dugan returned with Maura.
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