Gregor watched the tip of Alana’s tongue move over her full lips and felt his insides clench with desire. He suspected she was too innocent to realize the invitation she had just offered him, but he intended to accept it. There was little chance he would gain all he hungered for, but need and curiosity made him eager to take whatever he could right now and hope there were no heavy consequences for doing so.
He brushed his lips over hers again and felt her shiver faintly. Slipping his fingers into her thick, soft hair, he began to kiss her. Very quickly he needed more than the sweet, restrained closed-mouth kiss he was giving her, and he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Alana gasped softly and he took quick advantage of her slightly parted lips. The way she tensed for a moment told Gregor she had probably never had a man’s tongue in her mouth, and the thought that he was the first to give her such a kiss was a heady one, intensifying his desire for her. He prayed he could keep his desire tethered enough not to frighten her.
Alana nearly shoved Gregor away when he stuck his tongue in her mouth, but the urge proved a very fleeting one. The way he stroked the inside of her mouth soon had her clinging to him, silently demanding more of the same. Desire swept through her body. She was not so innocent that she did not know where such intoxicating kisses could lead her, but she decided she could wait a little longer before putting a stop to things.
Then Gregor moved his hand away from lightly stroking her side, up her ribcage, and onto her breast. The intimate touch sent fire streaking straight to her loins. What shocked her, however, was that she could feel his desire almost as strongly as if it were her own. She could almost smell it as well. Although she had heard about such a thing from her grandmother and Aunt Elspeth, she had never fully believed it. She certainly had never expected to feel such a thing herself. Alarmed by the strangeness of it all, she placed her hands on his broad chest, ignored the tantalizing feel of all that smooth, taut skin beneath her hands, and pushed.
He tensed and then slowly eased himself up on his forearms. Alana did not really need to see the light flush upon his cheeks and the way his eyes had darkened to a deep storm cloud blue, or even hear how heavily he was breathing to know how hard he was trying to rein in his desire. She could feel it. She suspected she looked much the same, especially since she carried the weight of his desire as well as her own.
If her grandmother and aunt were right, this man staring down at her, his long hair falling forward to brush against her cheeks, was the man she was made for. Gregor MacFingal Cameron was her mate. Just what she should do about that, she did not know. Her next steps could determine her entire future, and she needed to think hard on the matter. Tempting though it was, she could not let passion rule her. Her grandmother and aunt had been willing to gamble that the passion in their chosen man went deeper than his loins, but Alana was not sure she was that brave or daring. Recalling the tales of all the trials, tribulations, and heartbreak both women had suffered before finding happiness, Alana was even less certain of her own daring.
Gregor stared down at Alana. Every part of him was demanding that he ignore the silent rebuff implied by those soft hands gently pushing against his chest. He fought hard to subdue that heedless, greedy part of him. She had every right to halt their love-play. He took comfort in the fact that her desire obviously flared as quickly and fiercely as his own, even if it was a little embarrassing that she had more control than he did.
It was too soon, he told himself as his breathing grew steadier and the hard knot of need in him eased ever so slightly. Alana was a wellborn maiden, her innocence proclaimed by the inexperience of her kiss. This was not a woman one pushed too hard. Her desire was still a stranger to her and to use it against her would do more harm than good. She needed to be coaxed, gently seduced, and taught to revel in her passion, not shy away from it. Since the women he had known in the past had needed none of that, being neither innocent nor shy, Gregor was not sure he possessed such skills. With the heady taste of her kiss still lingering in his mouth, however, he was more than willing to learn them.
“Och, sorry, lass,” he murmured as he rolled off her.
“Sorry?” Alana felt his expression of regret like a hard blow to the chest.
“Aye, I lost all control.” He dared a quick kiss upon her cheek. “Ye are a bonnie lass and I wished a taste of ye. ’Twas ill done of me to steal one whilst ye were barely awake and still all atremble from a bad dream.”
She breathed an inner sigh of relief, pushing away that unwelcome stab of pain his words had caused. For a moment, she had feared he was apologizing because he had kissed her, had simply turned and reached out for the warm female body at his side without really knowing who it was. That would have meant those feelings that had so alarmed her, that sense that she had felt his passion as well as her own, were born of no more than her own imagination. Although the idea that she could share his feelings in such a way made her uneasy, she had been sharply disappointed to think she had been so very wrong about that. His apologizing for taking advantage of her when she was more asleep than awake was acceptable, although she did not think he looked all that guilty.
“Aye, it was a verra bad dream,” she said quietly, unable to think of anything to say concerning the kiss and his apology. She did not regret the kiss at all and did not wish to push him too far away by saying the wrong thing.
“It concerned your sister?” Gregor asked.
Alana sighed and wondered if she ought to tell him to stop stroking her hair. She decided to act as if there was nothing unusual about such a caress, for it felt good and she selfishly wished it to continue. “Aye. Keira was in danger. A man was threatening her. There was such an evil air about him that it chilled me.” She frowned. “There was someone else there who attempted to help Keira, a young girl, but the man easily tossed her aside. He put his hand upon Keira’s throat and began to squeeze. I could taste her fear, e’en feel her growing need for air,” Alana whispered.
Gregor was startled by the vividness of Alana’s nightmare. It was not filled with impossibilities, omens, or demons born of some hidden fear, as most were. This sounded more like a seeing than a dream, more of a foretelling than an imagining.
Then, suddenly, he recalled a few of the things he had heard of the Murrays. It was said that many of them had gifts, from a healing touch to the sight. Alana was also a twin, and there were enough of those within his own clan for him to know that, sometimes, they could seem to know each other’s thoughts or feelings without a word being spoken.
It appeared Alana was not going to lay claim to any gift, however. Gregor was not sure he liked her having one. Such things made him uneasy, even if he did not believe that they were the devil’s work as so many others did. That fear was probably the reason she was cautious, but he realized he did not like her hiding things from him. He could not allow her to hide this from him, no matter how unsettling it was for him. Gregor just hoped this gift was one that was restricted to what was happening with her twin sister. A true seer would be a very uncomfortable person to be around.
“A verra clear dream, lass,” he said. “’Struth, I would call it a vision.” The way she paled slightly and cast him a wary look told him he was right.
“Nay, ’twas but a bad dream.”
“Ah, lass, ye are a verra poor liar. I do ken a wee bit about the Murrays and the gifts so many of them are blessed with. Ye dinnae need to fear my kenning it.”
“Nay, ’tis Keira who has a gift. She has the healing touch, ye ken. I am just verra close to Keira.”
“Aye, verra close indeed. ’Twas such a bad dream that made ye risk trailing after your brothers, wasnae it?”
Alana sighed, briefly closed her eyes, and then looked at Gregor again. He was not going to accept her evasive replies. She had spoken too freely concerning her dream and there was no retreating from her own words. There was a chance that Gillyanne had spoken of the Murrays’ many gifts, ones sprinkled about the clan a little more often than they liked, considering
the dangerous superstitions people were afflicted with. Alana could see no sign that Gregor was troubled by such things, but she did sense that he was uneasy. That she could accept, for such things made her a little uneasy as well.
She nodded, capitulated, and began speaking the full truth. “Aye, it was.” Alana was not quite sure why he smiled at her so beautifully, but she felt compelled to return the expression with a faint smile of her own. “I wasnae surprised when word came that she might have been hurt and had gone into hiding. I had seen it in a dream. It was the evil mon who wanted to hurt her this time, although in my first dream he was all arrogance and strutting brutality.”
“And this time?”
“That was still there, but I sensed a desperation in him as weel. The anger of the defeated, if that makes any sense.”
“It does. Defeat can enrage some men.”
Gregor realized his unease had faded. He was mostly intrigued now. Alana still spoke of it as a dream, but it truly was a seeing and they both knew it. He was a little surprised over how pleased he was that she had ceased to deny it, but decided it all had to do with trust. By acknowledging such a dangerous secret to him, she revealed that she trusted him not to shun or betray her. To be gifted with such trust would please anyone.
“The other mon wasnae in this dream, either,” she said.
“What other mon?” he asked.
“The beautiful mon who was also hurt. My first dream was of Keira being hurt, but I had another. In that dream the beautiful mon was hurt and Keira was tending his injuries. They walked away together,” she murmured and then frowned, still puzzled over what that meant.
It annoyed Gregor to hear her keep referring to that other man as the beautiful man. “What did this mon look like?”
“Och, weel, beautiful.” Since Gregor did not look at all happy with that vague description, Alana struggled to recall exactly what the man had looked like. “Dark copper hair, blue-green eyes, and verra clear, perfect features. Tall, lean, graceful, and strong.” She shrugged. “Beautiful. Odd, but it seemed to irritate Keira.”
It certainly irritated Gregor. He did not like the thought of such a man wandering through Alana’s dreams, even if it was in the company of her sister. Suddenly, he had to swallow a laugh. He was jealous of a man in a dream. A heartbeat later, he frowned, deciding that that was not really all that amusing. He had never suffered from jealousy before, and he did not like it. Matters between him and Alana were growing complicated very quickly and, worse, she seemed completely unaware of it. It was humbling for a man who had almost always had any woman he desired, and with very little effort on his part.
“Ye see most clearly in your dreams, lass,” he said. “’Tis that and the fact that there was naught odd or confusing in your dream that told me it really wasnae a dream, but a seeing. Do ye have them often?”
“Nay. The ones I do get concern Keira. ’Tis why I dinnae consider it a true gift, but more as part of being Keira’s twin, just part of the bond we share as we shared a womb. She has had one or two about me. We have always been able to ken when one of us faced some danger.”
That was far more acceptable to him than a full gift of the sight. Gregor could even understand it more easily as simply a close bond between siblings. “Aye, I understand that, for my cousin Sigimor has a twin and there were times when he claims he just knew his twin was in trouble. I have two brothers who claim a similar ability to ken such things about each other.”
“I need to find her,” Alana said softly, the cold horror of the images in her dream making her voice tremble with the fear she felt for her sister.
Gregor put his arm around her waist and tugged her closer to him. “We will find her. Ye cannae return to wander about the country alone, lass, and weel ye ken it. Ye were most fortunate the Gowans respected your guise as a child. Sad to say, others wouldnae have cared that ye werenae a woman grown yet and taken ye as one. Stupid the Gowans may be, but they obviously have some honor in them. Ye cannae expect that from everyone ye may meet, and ye willnae be finding your brothers soon, either. Nay, ye will have to search for them, too. I will help ye in your search.”
“But ye were headed home,” she protested, although she would welcome his help.
“There was no compelling need for me to reach Scarglas. I can go home later.”
It would be good to have a strong man at her side as she searched for Keira. Alana hated to admit it, but when she had lost her brothers’ trail, she had been afraid. Finding herself all alone in a land she did not know was not an experience she wished to repeat. When the Gowans had appeared she had become almost painfully aware of her own utter helplessness. Clever and fast she might be, but she had faced the harsh truth that sometimes, that was not enough to survive.
There would undoubtedly be a few problems born of having Gregor at her side for longer than it took to escape the Gowans. She would have no chance of curing herself of her strong attraction to the man. It would be almost impossible to make any cool, well-reasoned decisions about him if he was with her night and day as he was now. It had not been easy to control her infatuation when they were imprisoned together, even though it was dark and he had thought her a young girl. Worse, she had awakened from her fever to find those feelings were still strong. The brief embrace they had just shared had only made matters worse, for she could still feel his touch, still taste the heady warmth of his kiss.
She inwardly shrugged after another moment’s thought. If this was the mate fate had chosen for her, there was little she could do to stop her heart from reaching out to him. Whether she was at his side for mere hours or long weeks of travel, her heart would go its own way. Although she had always held fast to a doubt or two concerning her kinswomen’s tales of finding the perfect mate, of knowing just when it happened and having little control over one’s emotions, she had also always dreamed of such an experience. She had just expected her perfect mate to be a more ordinary man, one much more suited to a little wren of a woman.
Alana hastily pushed those thoughts aside. The most important thing facing her right now was finding her sister. If she lost her heart to some man along the way and then had it thoroughly broken, it was inconsequential when weighed against Keira’s life. The dream she had just suffered through would linger in her mind and chill her blood until she saw Keira again, alive and well. Once that was accomplished, she could begin to deal with whatever else fate had handed her.
“’Twill be a comfort to have some help,” she finally said. “That dream showed a mon trying to choke the life out of Keira, yet I still cannae feel that she is dead. Still, I truly need to see her with mine own eyes ere I can rest easy. There is a darkness in her life right now, and I must see that she has escaped him or help her do so.”
“We will find her, Alana,” Gregor said. “We will get your answers for you and put that dark seeing to rest.” He again dared to steal a brief kiss, a hasty brushing of his lips over hers. “Now, rest. Tomorrow or the next day we begin our journey.”
“Why the uncertainty about when?”
“I wish to be sure that ye are strong enough and that your first day of travel isnae in the rain.”
“Ah, a good plan,” she murmured as she turned onto her side, her back toward him.
“Thank ye,” he drawled.
“One should always have a plan.”
“Did ye have one when ye set out after your brothers?”
“Aye.” She scratched the cat’s ears when he curled up against her chest. “I told ye. I was following them until we had gone too far for them to send me back. Then, I would join with them in the search for Keira.”
Gregor bit back his opinion that repeating what her plan had been did not make it sound any more sensible. “Why did ye think they would need your help?”
“Because of the bond I have with Keira. I was sure I could find her.”
“Ah, of course. The dreams.”
“Aye, and, weel, just a feeling, a pulling on my heart, if ye will.
Keira and I have always kenned where each other was as we grew up. It didnae completely fade away when she got married and moved away to Ardgleann. In truth, I wasnae surprised when I heard the rumor that she had been hurt. I had felt her pain, felt that something was wrong with her. I had thought it was but grief o’er what had happened but, nay, it was more, and I sorely regret that I did naught. I should have acted the moment I got that feeling.” She sighed and closed her eyes, feeling sleep tighten its hold on her. “Still, it wouldnae have made any difference, I am thinking. No one would have listened, just as they refused to heed me when I assured them that I could find her.”
“A strange stand for your people to take, considering how many of them have an odd gift of their own.”
“So I thought. ’Tis fate playing games with me. Those who should have heeded me did not. I lost my brothers’ trail e’en though I am a good tracker. And despite my having excellent hearing and a keen sense of danger approaching, the Gowans rode right up to where I was camped. Then, although I am fast, have good endurance, and can hide in the veriest shadow, they had no trouble catching me. Each step of the way there was trouble. I have ne’er been so plagued with stumbles and barriers.”
Since Alana was not given to false conceits, Gregor accepted that she had the skills she claimed. He had also seen her run and knew she had endurance as well as speed. If he were a superstitious man, he would think some unseen hand was moving her along like a piece upon some chessboard, doing all it could to steer her along a set path. It did seem that she had suffered an extraordinary turn of bad luck, the sort that cried out for an explanation. He inwardly shook his head, refusing to give in to any superstitious whims. It was all exactly as it seemed to be—bad luck.
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