Highland Lover

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Highland Lover Page 9

by Hannah Howell


  She was about to scold him for laughing at her when she realized he had stopped. He was staring at her mouth with an expression that caused her heart to race. Alana knew he was going to kiss her. She also knew she was not going to stop him despite the sharp voice of warning in her mind. She knew she was playing with fire, but she was too hungry for the heat his kiss stirred to care.

  When he teasingly brushed his lips over hers, she heard herself whisper a sound of protest over how meager the kiss was. As he wrapped his strong arms around her, Alana realized that she was already far beyond just playing with fire and very close to embracing it wholeheartedly. After this kiss she would take a few steps back, she promised herself. One more taste of the desire he stirred within her and she would put some much-needed distance between them so that she could think clearly about how much she was willing to risk for this man.

  It was not until Alana felt Gregor’s hand upon her naked breast, his long fingers skillfully tormenting the aching tip, that she realized she had completely stopped thinking. She struggled to regain the wit to speak only to hear Gregor curse softly. When he removed his hand, she had to bite back a protest. The loss of his touch left her feeling chilled and disappointed. Even as she puzzled over that, he tidied her clothes and sat up, pulling her up with him. The fact that he had put a halt to their lovemaking began to settle in her mind and she flushed with embarrassment. She also felt highly irritated by the fact that he had so much control over his passion when she obviously had none at all.

  “That wasnae weel done of me,” Gregor murmured as he finished lacing up her bodice.

  Alana thought he had done very nicely indeed, and then silently cursed. Her ability to defend her virtue around Gregor was nearly nonexistent and she should be highly concerned about that, not thinking about the quality of his lovemaking. And, she suddenly thought, if he was doing something he felt he had to apologize for, why did he keep doing it? There was no doubt in her mind that he had a great deal of experience in lovemaking, and she did not believe she was the sort of woman who caused a man’s senses to be swept away on a wave of passion. Gregor did not look particularly guilt ridden, either. Just as last time, he mouthed the words but showed little conviction in them.

  He was trying to seduce her, she realized, absolutely certain of her sudden decision. Alana was not sure what she felt about that. It was certainly flattering that such a man would wish to bed her, yet his reasons for doing so might be low and insulting. She was, after all, the only woman at hand. Just the passing thought that he might be making use of her only because she was convenient and female made her angry, and she glared at him. She might prove fool enough to toss her heart and virtue at the feet of a man who would break her heart and walk away, but she would not do so for a man who saw her as nothing more than a female convenient for rutting with.

  Gregor watched the vast array of expressions chase over Alana’s delicate features with fascination. He could only guess at what thoughts raced through her mind. When her eyes narrowed and the golden brown color turned nearly black, he did not have to have a keen understanding of a woman’s mind to know Alana was absolutely furious. He just wished he knew which of his many sins had just angered her so that he could respond correctly to whatever she was about to say and act properly contrite while doing so.

  “Ye are trying to seduce me,” she snapped. “Have ye decided that, since I am within reach, ye may just as weel try for a wee bit of lustful companionship on your journey?”

  Since he could not honestly deny her first statement, he turned his mind upon her second accusation. He did not need to act offended as he stood up and brushed himself off, for he really did feel somewhat insulted. “I willnae ask what kind of mon ye think I am that ye could accuse me so, for I suspicion your answer will only make me angrier. Now, I will give ye a wee bit of privacy whilst I find us some wood for a fire and, if luck walks with me, something to eat.”

  Alana felt guilty as she watched him walk away, and then told herself not to be such a complete fool. He might not be the callous lecher she had implied with her accusation about using her, but he was trying to seduce her. As she stood up and sought a place to tend to her personal needs, then washed up, she decided she would not apologize. She had a perfect right to be angry over his attempts to seduce her. If he did not like the conclusions she reached as to why he would do so, then he could tell her why. In truth, she dearly wished he would, for it would certainly make it easier for her to decide what to do concerning the desire she felt for him.

  By the time they had finished dining on the rabbit Gregor had caught, Alana had discovered that Gregor could hold tightly to a pout. She had been within a heartbeat of apologizing for her words to ease the chill between them when he began to act more as he had before that confrontation. Relieved, she made no complaint when he arranged only one bed near the small fire. It was also becoming a habit for her to sleep with Gregor curled up against her back and the cat curled up against her chest. Exhausted from a full day of walking, she cuddled up against Gregor, wrapped her arm around the cat, and went to sleep.

  Gregor sighed as he felt Alana relax in sleep. Her delightfully curved backside was pressed hard against his groin, tempting him and keeping his desire stirred. He was a little disappointed that she had offered no apology for thinking he would use her as if she were some alehouse wench one could have for a coin or two, but decided he was partly to blame for that suspicion. He gave her no words that would allow her to judge his feelings more correctly.

  Alana did not see herself as desirable to a man so, naturally, she would question his desire for her. The way she spoke of herself had told him that days ago. He would have to try harder to make her believe that he found her very desirable indeed. Simply making love to her would not be enough to convince her of that, no matter how sweet it was. If he was to gain the prize he hungered for, he was going to have to do more than pleasure her body. He was going to have to win her mind and heart. He was going to have to work hard to win what he ached for. As he rested his cheek against her soft hair and lightly cupped his hand over her breast, Gregor decided it would be well worth the effort.

  Chapter 8

  It was a pretty little village, Alana mused as she stood on a small hill beside Gregor and stared down at the tidy collection of houses. She inwardly sighed when Gregor put his arm around her and held her closer to his side. She knew what game he continued to play with his constant touching and his kisses. He was still trying to seduce her. Alana was not sure how she felt about the fact that he was succeeding. It was disheartening to know that she was so close to succumbing to his seduction after only four days. She would have thought that a man, even one as handsome as Gregor, would have to offer more than pretty words and heated kisses to get her to relinquish her virtue. Obviously, she had been sadly mistaken.

  Charlemagne meowed softly and Alana absently scratched his ears. She looked at Gregor, who scowled down at the village. It was clear that he was not eager to enter it. They both had a few coins, each having hidden some within their clothing and safe from the Gowans. She could not believe his hesitation was because they could not afford a night at an inn and a few supplies. Since they had been traveling for four long days, she could not believe they were still upon the Gowans’ lands, either. The Gowans had not appeared rich enough to own so much land.

  She had several reasons for wanting to enter the village Gregor watched so warily. It was hard not to beg the man at her side to let her go to the inn she could see so that she could have a hot bath. Alana also wanted something to eat beside roasted rabbit. She knew she was spoiled, that there were many people who would think themselves blessed if they had any meat at all to set upon their table, but she really was growing heartily sick of rabbit.

  “Do we go into the village or creep around it?” she finally asked.

  “We cannae still be on Gowan land,” Gregor muttered.

  “I wouldnae have thought so. If they owned so much land, they would be as ric
h as kings.”

  “And if we go down there, we may finally be able to gain some idea of exactly where we are.”

  “Aye, and that would be most helpful.” She knew he was just speaking his thoughts aloud as he tried to come to some decision, but Alana hoped he would be quick about it.

  “And I am heartily sick of rabbit.”

  “Och, aye,” she agreed with far more force than she had intended to.

  Gregor laughed, kissed her on the cheek, and started down the hill. “We shall take a chance,” he said, “although what these good folk will think of a lass carrying a cat around like a bairn, I dinnae ken.”

  Alana ignored that. “Do ye think I could have a bath?”

  “Aye, I believe that between us we have enough coin for a bath, a meal, and, if ’tis as safe as it looks, a room for the night. ’Twill be a pure pleasure nay to sleep upon the ground for a night.”

  A room? Alana thought, but did not say anything. She suspected there were a lot of good reasons to get only one room, and since they had been sharing a bed since she had joined him in the oubliette, it was foolish to fret over it now. There was probably not enough money for the luxury of two rooms anyway.

  By the time they reached the tiny inn in the heart of the village, Alana was tired of all the startled, even wary, looks cast her way. She knew it was because of the cat she carried. Sadly, her chest was not the sort to get so much attention, she mused with a little smile and then scowled at a gawking lady. She did not understand why people thought it so odd that she carried Charlemagne with her. A lot of people traveled with animals, and a cat was not made to walk for mile after mile. She stood beside Gregor as he bartered for a room, food, and a bath with the round-bellied innkeeper, who kept staring at Charlemagne.

  “The cat, too?” the man asked.

  “Aye, Master Dunn, the cat, too,” replied Gregor. “’Tis my lady’s pet and verra weel behaved.”

  “Is it hurt? Is that why ye be carrying it about like that, m’lady?” Master Dunn asked Alana.

  “Nay, it isnae hurt,” replied Alana. “Cats cannae trot along beside ye for miles like a dog can, aye? So I carry him. He doesnae weigh much.” She inwardly cursed as the man gave Gregor what was obviously a manly look of commiseration for having to deal with womanly nonsense.

  “I have clean beds, ye ken,” Master Dunn said. “I dinnae be wanting them infested with fleas.”

  Alana was about to protest that slander against her cat when she saw a dog walking toward them, a very large, very ugly dog. Afraid she was about to find herself in the midst of a squabble between the dog and Charlemagne, she tensed, readying herself to try and protect the cat. A slight movement in the sling drew her gaze downward. Charlemagne was hiding deep in the sling and lying very still. The dog sat down by the innkeeper’s side and showed no sign that it knew there was a cat so close at hand.

  “The cat is verra clean,” Gregor assured Master Dunn as he looked at the dog and then glanced at the sling. “He is also a complete coward,” he murmured.

  “Thank God,” whispered Alana and ignored Gregor’s grin.

  After another few moments of bargaining, the man led them up the stairs to a room. Alana set her pack down and, after making certain the dog had not followed them up the stairs, set Charlemagne down on the bed. She looked around the room and subtly checked the cleanliness of the bed as the bath was brought in. It was a plain room, but the innkeeper had not made an idle boast when he had claimed it was clean. She peered out the window and saw that they had a good view of the inn yard, something that could prove very useful. When Gregor stepped up behind her, she looked over her shoulder at him and was startled when he gave her a quick kiss upon the mouth.

  “I will leave ye to your bath now, lass,” he said even as he started toward the door. “Nay too long, though. The gracious Master Dunn charges dearly for what he considers needless luxuries, so I agreed to the one bath and a few extra buckets of heated water.”

  “I promise to be quick,” she said.

  “Good. I will spend the time trying to find out exactly where we are.”

  The door had barely finished shutting behind him when Alana started to remove her clothes. She was disappointed that she could not sink herself into the hot water and stay there until it cooled and her skin had puckered up like a wizened apple, but she was determined to savor the luxury despite that. A murmur of delight escaped her as she eased her body into the water. For a few minutes, she gave in to temptation and just enjoyed the warmth of the water penetrating her body, but then she recalled that Gregor would soon return to take his turn at the bath.

  She was just lacing up the body of her only clean gown when Gregor rapped upon the door and she bade him enter. “Did ye discover anything useful?” she asked him as he stepped in, followed by two boys carrying in more hot water.

  “Aye.” Stepping closer to her, Gregor idly sniffed her damp hair. “I am to stink of roses, am I?”

  Alana blushed, realizing that her scented soap had indeed left the bath smelling of roses, a scent no man would want to carry. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “Ah, weel, ’twill fade. Leastwise, I pray it will, for I fear I must beg use of that soap ye used.”

  She had to bite back a laugh at the grimace he made as she pointed to her soap set carefully on its piece of linen to dry. “I shall now allow ye your privacy,” she said.

  Gregor frowned. “I am nay sure ye ought to wander about alone.” He grinned and winked at her. “Ye could stay and wash my back.”

  A blush heated her cheeks and Alana knew it was not due to that bold invitation, but how tempted she was to accept it. “I think not. Are we to stay the night here?”

  “’Twas my plan, aye.”

  “Then I shall spend my time in the kitchens seeing if I can get us some food to take with us for what few pence I still have. It might cost less if I went to the merchants, but I dinnae think it would be wise to be seen by so many. I am counting on the woman in the kitchen being eager to pocket a few coins Master Dunn kens naught about.”

  Gregor nodded but still frowned with unease as he watched her leave. He shrugged it aside and hastily shed his clothes. She had left him some fairly warm water, so he added only a bucketful before he climbed into the bath. Sniffing her soap, he chuckled as he recalled Sigimor making the observation that a wise man always carried his own soap. He had to wonder what scent Sigimor had had to carry once that had prompted such wisdom. As he began to wash, he decided her soap did not smell so bad and its scent was light enough that it should fade quickly. He had certainly smelled far stronger and more flowery scents on some of the men who clung to the king’s court and fancied themselves men of fashion, true gentlemen of the world. Too many of them, however, seemed to ply the heavy scent in a vain attempt to hide the smell of a long-unwashed body.

  One thing he heartily approved of in Alana was her cleanliness. She did not complain about becoming dirty, but she did not hesitate to get clean again at the very first opportunity. He had never been that particular before, but he knew that, if he went to another woman now, he would sorely miss that scent of clean skin touched with roses. Gregor sighed as he started to wash his hair. He had the strongest feeling it would be far more than the scent of her skin that would turn him away from another woman now.

  His seduction of Alana was proving more difficult than he had imagined it would be. He had no doubt in his mind that her passion ran as hot and fierce as his own, but her innocence and her inability to believe in the depth of his desire for her were proving very stalwart shields. Gregor was not sure what key was needed to unlock his prize. It did not help his cause that she knew he was trying to seduce her and that he was unable to offer her any more than passion as a reward for her innocence. He could make her no promises. Not only was he still somewhat uncertain about what he felt or wanted, but Mavis still stood between them. It would not be right to offer Alana any promises of a future until he had let Mavis know that there would be no marriage bet
ween them.

  He stepped out of the rapidly cooling water and began to rub himself dry with a coarse linen cloth. The fine line he walked between wooing Alana and not offering promises he had no right to offer yet was beginning to make him dizzy. When he held Alana in his arms, kissed her, and touched her soft skin, he felt the urge to promise her all manner of things he had never promised a woman before. Gregor knew that should tell him something, but he was not quite sure what it was. He had the feeling his heart and body had already decided that Alana was a perfect fit for him, but his mind was reluctant to concede. It might be wise to take a moment to try and understand why that was, he mused.

  His wandering thoughts were abruptly shattered when Alana burst into the room. She carried a large sack and Gregor wondered how she had gathered so much of what he assumed was food for their journey. Then he noticed that she had come to an abrupt halt and was gaping at him. Suddenly recalling that he was naked and, a quick glance confirmed, aroused, he supposed he ought to hurriedly cover himself. Instead, he grinned at her.

  “Ye are too late to scrub my back, lass,” he said, drawing her wide-eyed gaze up from where it had been fixed upon his groin.

  Alana blinked at Gregor as she struggled to clear her mind of the sight of his naked body. She knew she had rushed up to their room to tell him something very important, but it had fled her mind. She feared that if she opened her mouth to speak, some very embarrassing words would tumble out. The way he was grinning so cockily told her he did not need to hear her tell him how beautiful he was. It struck her as odd that the sight of that tall, leanly muscular body in all its glory would make her want to leap upon him and demand he make love to her, even as the sight of his manhood standing so proud between his long legs made her quail. That part looked a lot bigger than it felt when pressed against her backside as he slept. Since God intended man and woman to go forth and multiply, she had to believe it would fit inside of her, but she found it difficult to believe she would enjoy it.

 

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