Highland Lover

by Hannah Howell

  She suffered a brief flicker of fear as she recalled how large one particular part of him was, but easily pushed it aside. Although she was bereft of experience, she had knowledge enough to know that they would fit together. The first time would probably hurt, but passion always carried a price for a woman. It was the time after the breaching that she looked forward to, and all the times after that.

  Alana knew she did not have to become Gregor’s lover to win his love, but she suspected it would help a little. She also knew it might not gain her any more than a lot of pleasure followed by a kindly farewell, but she had to try. If she ended up alone, so be it, but at least she could comfort herself with the knowledge that she had done all she could to win his heart. There would also be some very pleasant memories to cling to when she was alone.

  With her plans made, Alana felt sleep gently drag her into its folds. She smiled when Gregor slowly moved his hand up her midriff to cup her breast. He always did that when he thought she was asleep. Her last clear thought was that Gregor plainly found her wee bumps to his liking.

  Her body was on fire. Alana thought it odd that her mind would tell her that was pleasurable when it ought to be telling her to run for her life. Then she woke up enough to understand what was happening. Gregor’s hands were stroking her breasts and she could feel the heat of his mouth against the back of her neck. This time the movement against her backside was not so subtle. Gregor had woken up very hungry indeed.

  For a moment Alana reveled in the feelings coursing through her. The touch of his hands and his lips felt so good. The way he rubbed against her caused a pleasurable aching in her groin. She remembered that she had decided to succumb to the passion between them and was just about to give herself over to it when she recalled his wound. One night of rest was not enough for it to heal. If she let him do what he wanted to now, he would probably bleed all over her. That thought was enough to give Alana the strength to move away from him.

  She nudged Charlemagne out of the way, but instead of immediately fleeing the bed as she did every morning, she turned to face Gregor. It was easy to see the desire in his face. She had felt it as well. His passion, his need, seeped right inside of her and strengthened her own. Alana decided it was time to give him a hint that he would soon get what he needed, what they both needed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him the most wanton kiss she could. The moment she felt her wits start to flee her head, she pulled away and scrambled out of bed.

  “Alana!” Gregor called as she started to walk away.

  “I must find some more wood for the fire,” she said, and kept on walking. “Call if ye need any help.”

  What he needed was for her to come back and fulfill the promise of that kiss. Gregor was feeling both frustrated and confused. Alana had never been so bold, had never taken that first step. He had always coaxed her into his arms, wooed or stolen every kiss out of her. Her first bold step had been a big one as well. His blood was still burning from the heat of that kiss. It had declared a passion and a fire he was eager to taste more fully. It had declared acceptance; he was certain of it.

  Gregor cautiously sat up, the wound in his side making each move painful, but he was relieved to find that he was no longer light-headed. Unfortunately, he was also in no shape to act upon what he was sure was an aye from Alana. Despite his weakened condition, the mere thought of finally being allowed to make love to Alana had him hard and aching. He felt as if he had waited for her for years instead of just a fortnight.

  A few yards away from camp, he slumped against a tree and relieved himself. As he waited a moment to regain enough strength to return to his bed, he looked all around and listened very carefully, but caught no sign of anyone else in the area. He wondered if they had finally reached lands the Gowans did not want to venture onto. It would please him beyond measure if that were true, and not just because he was tired of constantly watching for them. He would need a little longer to regain his strength, and when he did, he intended to spend a few more days on those blankets answering the invitation of Alana’s kiss.

  Deciding he had rested enough to make his way back to the blankets, Gregor started walking back to their camp. He was so weak in the knees by the time he reached the bedding, only the thought that he could add to his injury kept him from just falling on top of them. As he sprawled on his back trying to catch his breath and will away the burning pain in his side, he ruefully admitted that it might take more than a day or two to regain enough strength for all he planned to do with Alana.

  “I cannae believe that worked,” Alana whispered, staring down at the three fish she had caught.

  As she had collected wood for the fire, she had found the river. It was not a big one and could be easily forded in several places, but it was big and deep enough for fish. At first she had simply enjoyed the sound of the water tumbling along over the rocky slope and then savored its crisp, cold taste. Then she had caught sight of the fish. Years ago her cousin Logan had shown her how to catch a fish with her hands, as well as which fish were the ones she should catch. These certainly looked like the fish he said were good and, although she could never recall the names of the creatures, she had learned how to cook them.

  Her success had surprised her and she was feeling quite proud of herself. Even the fact that her hands and legs were only just starting to warm up again could not dim her pride in her accomplishment. Only the way the poor things had lain on the ground gasping for so long cast a shadow over her joy, but her stomach was obviously merciless. It was growling in anticipation of the meal these fish would make. Hunger was making her a good hunter. She was, however, going to be very glad to return to a place where someone else had to hunt for the food.

  “Oh, Charlemagne, dinnae ye dare,” she said when the cat drew close to the fish. “Ye will have your share once these beasties are cleaned and cooked. And I believe I shall have Gregor tend to the cleaning of them. That shouldnae trouble his wound or weaken him.”

  Charlemagne sat down near the fish, his tail swiping the leaves as it flicked back and forth.

  “No need to look so ill-tempered, m’lad. I said ye would get some, but later.”

  Alana put the fish into the small sack she had brought with her in the hope of finding something to add to their food supply as she had gathered wood for the fire. At several points along the path she had taken there were now little piles of wood she could simply pick up at her leisure and take back to camp. Looping the handle of the sack over her shoulder, she picked up the pile of wood nearest her and started back to camp, Charlemagne walking by her side. The animal rarely let her out of its sight, she realized, and she was not sure if she should be touched by that or a little wary. Shaking aside a brief moment of superstitious unease, something she had always considered herself far too clever to suffer from, she fixed her thoughts upon Gregor.

  “Ah, Charlemagne, I think I am soon to make a great fool of myself,” she told the cat.

  Charlemagne swatted at a leaf that floated down from the trees.

  “Aye, a fool who talks to cats as weel as a fool who plans to give away her weel-guarded innocence to a mon who may ne’er love her as she loves him.”

  Charlemagne paused to sharpen his claws on a tree trunk.

  Alana sighed, heartily wishing she had one of her kinswomen to talk to. Considering the romantic history of many of her kinswomen, however, they would probably just advise her to do exactly what she was planning to do. She was going to take Gregor as her lover and pray, very hard, that his desire for her held the seed of love.

  A heated anticipation raced through her at the thought of having Gregor make love to her. She was clearly beyond redemption now. It was a huge risk she was about to take, one that could leave her alone yet unweddable, and she simply did not care. She loved Gregor, she wanted him, and she needed him. For once in her life she was going to do exactly what she wanted and pray that the consequences would not be too great. She just hoped she did not cause her parents too much disappo
intment.

  As she entered the camp and watched Gregor slowly sit up, his winces telling her that the movement pained him, she knew she would have the time to prepare herself well for the very large step she was going to take. Alana placed the wood near the fire, opened the sack, and set the fish down next to Gregor. She grinned at his look of astonishment.

  “How did ye catch these?” Gregor asked.

  He listened to her tale with growing surprise as she handed him a knife, clearly intending that he should clean the fish. Stunned, he did so silently while she readied the fire and a spit to cook them on. Being cared for by Alana Murray could well prove to be a very humiliating experience, he decided. He had never been able to catch a fish with his hands, let alone three.

  “Where did ye get them?” he asked as she collected the cleaned fish and carefully set them on the spit to cook.

  “There is a lovely wee river nay far from here,” she replied. “’Tis a welcome source of water, though it is a bit colder than I like. I saw no sign of the Gowans or anyone else whilst I collected the wood, either.”

  Gregor slowly nodded, not really surprised. “I think we have finally lost them for good. At some time during our flight from them we must have finally crossed a boundary they willnae cross.”

  “But ye intend to keep a wary eye for a while yet, I suspect.”

  “Och, aye. They hunted us for longer than I had thought they would. I was so certain that they would have to give up at some time, but ’twill be a while ere I believe this chase is finally o’er.”

  “I shall keep a close watch as weel, but I truly believe we have gone beyond their reach. Will ye watch o’er these fish for me? I think I will go and collect some of the wood I stacked in wee piles all along my path.”

  “Aye, I can do that much, at least.” He heard the sour note in his voice and was not surprised to see her lips twitch as she fought to suppress a smile. He sounded like a sulky child even to his own ears. “Hand me my pack ere ye leave, if ye would. I mean to shed these clothes and wear my plaid. ’Twill be easier on my wound.”

  Alana handed him his pack and hurried back into the woods. She strongly resisted the urge to spy upon him as he changed his clothing. It had taken all of her willpower to hold back the shameful advice that the best way to spare his wound any irritation from his clothes would be to lie about naked. Alana shook her head as she walked to the pile of wood that sat the farthest distance from the camp, determined to give Gregor enough time to change his clothes without her gawking at him. She never would have thought that she could be so enamored of the sight of a man’s naked body, but she suspected she could happily stare at Gregor’s for days. Years, a voice in her head whispered, but she ruthlessly silenced it. When she returned to the camp, Gregor sat by the fire. He was dressed in a simple white linen shirt, his plaid, and deer-hide boots. She decided she liked the look of him in this simpler attire. His other clothes had been very fine, but they had marked him too strongly as a man of the world, a courtier. Although he was still so handsome he made her heart ache, somehow he now looked more attainable.

  There was a look in his eye as he watched her that told Alana the kiss she had given him might not be being spoken of, but it was not forgotten. Alana was certain he had read the invitation she had tried to give him by acting so boldly. If not for his wound, she suspected Gregor would be showing her just how clearly he had understood her silent message. She forced herself not to blush as she served him his share of the fish.

  Every instinct she had told her that the Gowans were no longer a threat. That meant that she and Gregor could take their ease for a while and allow his wound to heal properly. Weather permitting, they could linger here for several days in comfort. Glancing around at the trees, the many violets winding colorfully around the bases of the tree trunks, and the clear view of the hills in the not-so-great distance, Alana decided it was the perfect place for a woman to be introduced to all the secrets of passion. Glancing at Gregor again, she decided she could not have chosen a finer teacher. All she had to do was wait for his wound to heal enough for him to commence with her lessons.

  Chapter 10

  “Alana.”

  Startled by that deep voice, Alana nearly dropped the fish she had just caught. She quickly tossed the fish up onto the bank and then looked at Gregor. He was leaning against the trunk of a tree, his arms crossed over his broad chest. She wondered how long he had been watching her and hoped he had not been close enough to hear her conversation with Charlemagne concerning the success, or lack thereof, of all her attempts to make Gregor know she was ready to be his lover. The fact that Charlemagne was draped over his boots did not detract from Gregor’s manliness at all, Alana thought in bemusement.

  “Ye had best step out of that water, lass. Your legs are turning blue.”

  She scowled at him, thinking that a very poor way to seduce her, but she got out of the water and hastily lowered her skirts. “A gentlemon wouldnae be peeking at a lady’s legs,” she said piously.

  “Weel, I have ne’er claimed to be a gentlemon, and I have plans to be looking at a bit more than your bonnie legs.”

  Even though she blushed over those bold words, Alana felt her desire stir. It was clear that Gregor really did not have to try very hard at all to seduce her. For three days they had lingered in this place, enjoying the peace and the unusually fine weather. Gregor had gotten stronger each day. He had also gotten bolder with his kisses and caresses, as had she, but he had always pulled back before they had gone too far. She knew he had done so because of his wound. The look upon his face now told her that he was as tired of pulling back from their desire as she was.

  “Ye are a verra bold mon, Gregor MacFingal Cameron.”

  “And I plan to be a lot bolder,” he drawled as he gently nudged Charlemagne off his boots.

  “’Tis always good for a mon to have a plan,” she whispered and could not fully repress a squeak of surprise when he lunged at her and pulled her into his arms. “We must take the fish back to camp.”

  “Who says we are gong back to the camp? This is a fine place.”

  “’Tis still daylight.”

  “I dinnae have the patience to go back to the camp or to wait for the sun to set.”

  Alana was about to say something about his eagerness, which she found highly flattering, but he kissed her and she quickly forgot what she was going to say. His hunger was evident in his kiss. His need was revealed in the way he pressed her body so close to his. As her desire for him flared into full life, she felt his desire for her flow into her veins, enhancing her own and making it fiercer, deeper. She clung to him, returning his kiss to the best of her ability, as he slowly lowered her to the soft, mossy ground on the bank of the river. It felt as if every part of her, heart, soul, mind, and body, sighed in hearty welcome as he settled his long body on top of hers.

  This moment had been approaching for three long days, their need for each other growing fiercer with each kiss, each touch, each heated glance. Alana had lost all hesitation long ago. She suspected she had been as impatient for his wound to heal as Gregor had been.

  “Say aye, lass,” Gregor murmured against the soft curve of her neck as he unlaced her gown. “Ye have been saying it with every sweet kiss, every soft caress, and every sigh for three days, but ye have never said the word. Say it now, Alana. Say aye.”

  “Aye.”

  If he had not been so desperate to hold Alana close, skin to skin, Gregor suspected he would have collapsed from relief. Despite every sign that she was ready to be his lover, he had still suffered a doubt or two. She was a virgin, a wellborn maid whose innocence was a fiercely protected prize intended only for a husband. He had offered her no promises of love or marriage. He still feared that, at the last moment, she would hesitate and ask him for those promises he was not yet free to give her.

  He stripped her of her clothes with a little more speed than skill. Desperation and greed drove him. When he tossed aside the last of her clothes,
he sat back on his heels and looked her over, ignoring the fierce blush that stained her cheeks. She was sleek and soft, her curves gentle ones. Compared to the women he had known in the past, Alana was almost childlike, but he had not thought of her as a child since the day he had cut off her bindings. Alana would probably never have lush, plump curves, but he found her slender shape beautiful.

  Still staring at her, watching how her nipples hardened invitingly beneath his gaze, he threw off his clothes. Gregor knew he would have to keep a tight control on his need to be inside her. She was an innocent, and he needed to be gentle with her. He did not need to have had any experience with virgins to know that the first time was very important and could leave lasting impressions, good and bad. Despite all the sensual hunger gnawing at him, he was actually a little nervous. Somehow he would have to hold back his own aching need until he had stirred her passion to a height where the pain he would have to inflict would not leave her cold.

  When he settled himself back in her welcoming arms, their flesh touching for the first time, he shuddered. A faint tremor went through her and he breathed an inner sigh of relief. It might not be so difficult after all. Alana appeared to be as eager and as hungry for this as he was.

  “Ah, lass, ye feel so right,” he murmured as he ran his hand down her side and stroked her hip. “I have been waiting for this from the moment I discovered ye were no child.”

  Now that he was not staring at her so boldly, Alana felt her embarrassment finally fade away. “I have given it some thought as weel.” She lightly stroked his broad chest, savoring the feel of his warm skin beneath her hand. “Ye are a verra fine-looking mon, Gregor.”