His Captive
Page 15
“Why?”
“Because I want to be with you.” That was the truth. And as much as he dared admit to her.
Irritation sparked on her face. The anger he’d come to know and in a perverse fashion, enjoy. “As simple as that?”
He arched a brow. “Aye.”
“It may be easy for you to dismiss the circumstances that surround us, but I cannot.”
“Cannot or will not?”
“What do you want from me, Alexander? Since our arrival, you have kept me locked within the chamber for four days. With each rising sun, you have denied my every request to see you, to allow me any time away from my room. Now you grace me with your presence and expect me to accompany you without protest. As if you truly care?”
Heavy silence hung between them.
She tilted her chin at an angle of defiance. “The only reason you are with me now is that I am a challenge. Or that for whatever reason, you have decided now is a time to discover if I am a challenge you can overcome.”
He moved to touch her, but she stepped back.
“Do not. Not unless you truly want me.” Her face paled as if horrified by what she’d revealed. “Not then, either. Forgive me, I spoke in a senseless haste.”
But he’d already heard the words. And her confession of several nights before echoed too clearly in his mind. “And if I truly cared for you?” By God’s eyes! Why was he even continuing this foolery? But however ludicrous, a part of him needed to know.
Her gaze grew frantic. “It would be a lie.” She whirled and fled.
Alexander ran after her.
When she reached the cleared slope, she veered off between the thick limbs of a line of firs and disappeared into the forest.
Cursing himself, he pushed away blocking limbs. He’d meant a calming talk. Not an intimate discussion. He caught sight of her racing around the edge of a large rock. She was weak and might injure herself.
Alexander found her a short distance ahead on her knees, her hand pressed against the wall of stone, and her breaths coming out in sharp rasps. He hunkered down beside her, angry at himself for having pushed her to this reckless point.
“Keep away from me,” she gasped between breaths.
Instead he scooped her up in his arms and held her against his chest, wanting only to heal, to protect. Her resistance lasted but a few seconds.
Her body sagged against him. “Why can you not leave me alone?”
Her whispered plea almost broke his heart. He laid his chin atop her head as he scanned their surroundings. If he were wise, he’d return her to her chamber and depart. ’Twas unwise to be alone with the lass, especially hidden in this private cove of trees and rock, more so when his feeling toward her was far from saintly.
And if her voice held only anger, maybe he could have. Mixed within the regret, he’d heard the wanting. A need that kindled his own.
She looked at him, her eyes a reflection of the grief and desire she worked so hard to shield. “It does not matter. It cannot.”
“No, it cannot.” But it did. Alexander gave into the recklessness of the moment, lowered his head and claimed her mouth. As her taste filled him, he could no longer deny the truth. He wanted her, with his every breath, with every passing second of the day. And he’d fought to bank his desire until he ached.
Until now.
He skimmed kisses over her face, savoring the taste of her skin, the silken smoothness that beckoned him.
“Alexander,” she rasped, “we cannot continue. I—”
With confidence he deepened the kiss, her greedy acceptance betraying her words of denial. He combed his fingers through her auburn hair, then wrapped the strands around his hand to angle her head.
Her breathy moans had him laying her back against the soft bed of leaves and moss, but her passion-filled whimpers had him covering her body with his.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured against her mouth. “Everything a man could ever want.” He skimmed his hand along the curve of her neck, down the fluid angle of her supple body to slide over her breast.
Her eyes darkened. “Alexander, I . . .” She moaned as his fingers slipped beneath the soft linen to tease her nipple, arching against his hand as he stroked it to a hard peak.
“I want to taste you,” he whispered.
She rolled her head back and forth. “I do not want, ca—cannot let you . . .” Her hands began to roam his chest in a furious desperation. “It would not be proper.” She dragged his mouth back to hers.
The fervor of her response poured through him. Impatient to touch the cool silk of her skin, he caught the fabric near her neck and pulled it down. Her magnificent breasts spilled free. His body hardened to a tremendous ache. Alexander cupped his hand over one firm swell and leaned down to lave the tender flesh.
Nichola’s eyes glazed with passion.
The dream of sliding into her willing warmth overrode his cautions, his regrets. Here. Now. The passion he no longer could deny would consume them both. And he would let it.
Would die without it.
Alexander teased her sensitized flesh, slow circles until her body began to shake. He caught her nipple into his mouth and suckled, her mews of pleasure urging him on.
“How you want me leaves me humbled,” he murmured against her skin. Needing to touch her everywhere, to taste her, he laved a slow trail down the flat of her stomach, inhaling her woman’s scent.
He moved his hand to her thigh. Her tender flesh quivered beneath his touch. If possible, he grew harder. However much he wished to strip her and drive deep into her, Alexander kept his pace slow. This time, her first time, he would make love to her with exquisite passion.
Alexander stroked her intimate place again, and Nichola cried out from the pleasure of his touch as his finger caressed her over and again, leaving her shaking, wanting, helpless but to let him take. And if this was a sin, at this moment, she couldn’t sort out right from wrong.
With fractured movements, she caught the edge of her gown. She tugged it downward, needing to free herself from the cumbersome garment. Agile fingers helped her. In seconds, he tossed the garment to the side. Before she could draw in a breath, his mouth begun to feast on the other breast while his fingers slid across her dewy warmth.
Delicious waves of heat surged through her body. “Alexander.” Her gasp echoed with wanton release, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was touching her, her body burning with an unstoppable need that only he could fulfill.
The pads of his fingers slid downward, along her thigh.
“Alexander,” she whispered.
Cobalt eyes lifted to hers, hot, raw with sensual promise. “As my lady wishes.” His fingers slid into her warmth. At her gasp of pleasure, he covered her mouth. With exquisite torture, he slowly began to move his fingers within her. He claimed her every cry, her body’s trembles as a slow pressure began to build until it was if she’d burst.
He moved to her neck, his tongue doing magical things to her body, trampling the cautious part of her that is hesitant to allow such intimacy.
Alexander lifted his head, his gaze focused on her with a penetrating stare. “I am going to watch you as you are pleasured. Hear your scream as you fall over the edge.” He increased the pace of his intimate caresses.
She twisted, her body’s reactions beyond her control.
“And do you want me, lass? With how wet you are for me, I think you do.”
She couldn’t speak if her life depended on it. A predatory smile curved his mouth, like a wolf ready to devour its prey. And thankfully, she was his feast.
“That’s a lass,” he said as her mind tumbled in a frenzied state. Then his mouth, for the love of Mary, his mouth caught her nipple and began to suck, his tongue flicking over the sensitized bud mimicking his finger’s action.
Steeped in him, his scent, his taste on her lips, her body began to tremble uncontrollably. Reckless, helpless, she now arched to meet each stroke of his hand, the sweet joining
that beckoned with a promise of something grand.
Then the world began to slip away toward a wondrous ache. “Alexander!”
His fingers worked her with relentless fervor as his greedy mouth continued to take, to miraculously destroy.
Her body quaked. A mind-numbing, sensual haze engulfed her mind as if on the precipice to something grand. “I—I—”
“The roebuck ran this way,” a deep male voice yelled nearby.
Chapter Twelve
Sensitized beyond belief and shaking with unspent pressure pulsing through her body, Nichola pushed up on her elbows. The breeze scraped across her skin with a pleasurable ache. She turned toward the voice. “Someone is nearby!”
“Shhh,” he whispered.
“I know my arrow hit the roebuck in the chest. Look around. It should be nearby,” another man yelled, from farther away.
Embarrassed, she gazed to where Alexander’s finger had stilled within her, the pressure inside her making her want to scream. Awareness of what they’d done, what she’d allowed him to do swamped her. Worse, even now, with shame washing through her, she wanted him.
Nichola pulled free of his imitate touch and tugged her gown against her body with shaky hands. “What if we are caught?”
“We will not be.” Alexander cursed as he helped her don her gown. He surveyed the woods. “We will go to my chamber.”
“No—I—this.” She looked away. “It is wrong.” However much she wanted him, with her body aching for him to finish what he’d begun, she couldn’t allow further intimacy between them.
He caught her chin in his hand with a tenderness that made her ache. “No, Nichola,” he said, his eyes still storming with unspent passion. “We have but begun.”
Ashamed, she tried to break free.
Alexander’s hold remained gentle yet firm, his gaze relentless. “With you trembling from my touch, tell me you do not want me.”
His deep, sensual voice sent another wave of desire rolling through her body.
He drew her palm up and stroked his tongue across the soft center; she shuddered in response. “Tell me.”
“I cannot.” But Mary help her, she wanted to. And to beg him to lay her down upon the leaf-strewn ground and finish what he’d begun, bringing her much needed relief.
The pulse at the base of his neck throbbed in an erratic beat. He remained still. A testament to his control. “I am sorry to leave your body aching with the wanting. It would not be how I would be choosing.” A stick snapped nearby. He glared toward the sound, then he turned back to her. “For now we have no choice.”
Heat crept up her face as he spoke with accuracy of her body’s distress. Never had she experienced such turmoil, a sense of floating between some kind of a half heaven, half hell, with promises of something wondrous.
No, it wasn’t wondrous, it was reprehensible. She’d almost given Alexander her virginity.
In the forest, footsteps crunching on leaves echoed closer.
Alexander cursed, took her hand, and began to walk toward Lochshire Castle, saving her from the necessity of a response.
Unsure how to undo the intimacy she’d allowed, she remained silent. As much as she wanted him, her innocence would be given to the man she would one day marry. To the man she loved.
A shake of a thick-fir limb was her only warning before a man stepped out from behind the foliage in front of her. She almost screamed, then recognized Alexander’s sinfully handsome brother, Duncan, carrying a bow.
He spotted them and halted. His brow raised. Then, a knowing smile blazed across Duncan’s face.
Nichola’s face grew warmer, the waves of desire still pulsing through dredging her guilt deeper.
Duncan winked at Alexander. “I see you are out on a hunt of your own.”
“Leave us,” Alexander ordered. Ice coated his words.
“At least allow me a slice of dignity and release me,” she hissed.
His hold tightened.
“Duncan,” a deep male voice called out. “Where in blazes are you?”
Mischief danced in Duncan’s eyes. “Over here, Patrik. With Alexander.”
“Alexander?” Brush rattled. A muted curse. Patrik stepped into the clearing. “What is Alexander . . .” His gaze landed on Nichola. He halted. Lines of anger ripped through his face. Cold. Hard. Edged with hatred.
Fear cut through her. She tensed.
Alexander drew her closer to his side, his body partially shielding her from his brothers.
Why was Patrik angry at her? From their brief interaction since her arrival, he’d addressed her with polite deference. Now he glared at her as if she were a rabid animal to be destroyed.
Ignorant of the silent battle between Alexander and Patrik, Duncan crossed his arms over his chest with a satisfied grin. “He was edgier than a wounded boar this morning. But understandably, his duties to care for his prisoner would challenge the stoutest man.”
Patrik spread his legs in a warrior’s stance, hazel eyes blazing with defiance. “Aye, it is a demanding task to seduce the enemy,” he said, the quiet delivery in stark contrast to the cold attack.
“It would heed you and Duncan well to continue with the hunt,” Alexander warned.
Patrik didn’t budge. “It is a mistake to let this to go further. You are allowing your desire for the lass to cloud your judgment.”
The scar on Alexander’s jaw tightened. “My decisions are not yours to censure.”
“When it comes to decisions that affect the rebels, it is,” Patrik replied.
“Be gone,” Alexander ordered.
“Who are you angry at?” Patrik pressed. “Me for watching over the rebels’ concerns or yourself for losing your perspective of what is important?” He scanned the surrounding forest with contempt. “What? No personal maid to ensure propriety? Or . . . was propriety with the baron’s sister ever your intent?”
The blood drained from Nichola’s face. He all but called her a whore.
Alexander drew to his full height. “Apologize.”
Patrik glared at her, his look of pure venom. “My lady, accept my deepest apologies for any disparaging remarks toward your person.” Though given, fury resonated in his words. And insincerity.
Duncan strode between the two, his face taut. “Patrik, it is a hunt we are on. Leave the lass to Alexander.” He gave her an understanding wink.
Nichola silently thanked Duncan’s lighthearted intervention. Both Alexander and Patrik visibly relaxed.
“Aye,” Patrik finally said. “Let us be on our way.” Without a word, he spun on his heel and stalked into the cover of the forest.
Lifting his bow to his side, Duncan ran after him. Twigs snapped as they disappeared back into the forest.
The last of the tension in Alexander’s body fled, but Nichola couldn’t stop from shaking. Alexander and Patrik had almost come to blows. Mayhap he was used to Patrik’s temper, but it disturbed her. She sensed that whatever Patrik’s reason, she’d earned a dangerous enemy this day.
Alexander turned to face her, his expression grim. “I apologize for Patrik’s harsh words.” He took her hand. “As I told you before, Patrik came to live with us after his family was killed. What I did not explain was that they were butchered by English troops. Though anger guides him, it does not forgive his rude behavior.”
Shaken, she understood. Patrik would detest anyone English. Right or wrong, with his hate entrenched deep in his soul, he would see any affection shared between her and Alexander as tainted.
“It is past,” she said, her words surprisingly calm. If only she believed that was true. Until she departed, she would avoid Patrik. A disturbing thought came to mind. At least Patrik was honest in his feelings toward her. How many within Lochshire Castle nourished the same hatred?
Alexander drew her into his embrace and cradled her body against his. She leaned into his warmth. “I would never allow my brother, nor any other to harm you.”
“I know.” But Alexander couldn’t
always be there to protect her. Her heart ached as she thought of leaving him, but she wasn’t safe here. The sooner she left the better.
Slowly, embraced against his powerful frame, she relaxed. The soft chatter of the birds overhead threaded with the soft whisper of the wind.
Her body stirred with awareness, more so as his body was hardening against her softness. Nichola searched his face.
Desire flared in his eyes, a familiar look that singed her every nerve. She drowned beneath his blatant stare, overwhelmed with the need he made her feel.
With devastating slowness, he pressed a kiss upon her lips. The tenderness of his touch swept her into his heat. Her worries of moments before faded. She moaned as his tongue teased hers; dueled, tangled until she trembled. Heat stroked her body, flames of desire that burned her with its luxurious heat. It would be so easy to give herself to him now, but this wasn’t her life. And never would be.
Still trembling from wanting him, she pulled away. “What we did before—I—”
“Do not.”
“What, speak of what is proper?” she demanded, nerves backing her words. Nichola pressed forward, afraid if she didn’t push him away, he would claim her mouth again. Afraid if he tried to make love, this time she wouldn’t stop him.
“I cannot deny that I want you. I do, more than I would ever want to admit. But Patrik’s words are those of truth. I am your enemy. What we did is forbidden.”
His eyes narrowed.
Her heart pounded as he stared down at her. His sheer size alone guaranteed if he chose, he could take her.
As if a stranger, Alexander’s face grew shuttered. He released her and stepped away from her. “It is time to return to the castle.”
She watched Alexander struggle with his emotions, those in direct conflict to what duty demanded, but the coldness of his words after their passionate kiss still hurt. They’d almost made love. Yet, he seemed to be able to shut that out. If she could, she would do the same.
The soft pad of their footsteps echoed between them as they walked. But with every step they took, she sensed him pulling farther away.