Highland Lover

by Hannah Howell

  “Aye, lass.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close, smiling faintly when Charlemagne squeezed himself between them and faced the fire. “Liam truly is a good mon. He just didnae have a true calling, as your cousin calls it. Yet when Liam left the monastery, he didnae walk away from all he had learned or all that had taken him there to begin with. He gave your sister vows and he will hold fast to them. E’en before he wed her, he held fast to vows he had made only to himself. Aye, he liked the lasses and they adored him, but he bedded no virgins, no wives, and no women who were betrothed, even ones who claimed they didnae want the mon they would have to marry. And e’en though Liam and Keira were forced to marry, trust me in this, Liam could ne’er have said his vows unless he wanted to and meant to hold fast to them.”

  She nodded, wanting to believe all these assurances she was getting concerning her sister’s new husband. Yet she still felt that Keira was troubled, even sad. If it was not Liam Cameron causing Keira to feel so, then what was it? She knew she would have to see Liam and Keira together before she could make any true judgments. Alana knew that men did not always see what a woman did, that sometimes the men they thought to be so good and honorable made very poor husbands. All the goodness the man revealed to his male companions was not extended to his wife.

  Although she desperately wanted to believe that Keira would not allow herself to be married to a man she could not trust or love, Alana was no longer so naïve. She also knew that her sister had not really loved her first husband but had hoped the fact that she had liked and respected him would lead to love. It had not, of that Alana had no doubt at all. Yet she now knew the power desire could have over a woman. It was possible that Keira had fallen into a powerful lusting for Liam Cameron and was now discovering that such a thing did not always lead to love, either. Or, worse, Keira loved, but it was not and might never be returned. That would certainly explain the sadness she felt her sister was suffering from.

  “Cease fretting o’er it, lass,” Gregor said as he unpacked some of the food her cousin had given them. “Ye can do naught about it. I dinnae think there is aught ye need to fret about, but I understand that ye will need to see that for yourself or hear the assurance that all is weel from your sister’s own lips.”

  “Aye, ye are right.” She took her eating knife out of the sheath hanging at her waist and cut herself a bit of cheese. “’Tis just that I ken her first marriage wasnae a good one and now, so soon after she was widowed, she is married again. Och, and to such a beautiful mon who has married women mad with jealousy and chasing him all about the land.”

  Gregor was getting very tired of hearing Alana refer to Liam as a beautiful man. When she went to see her sister, he would go with her. Only a fool would let his woman get too near a man like Liam, one who seemed able to turn a woman’s mind to warm gruel with just a smile, unless he was standing right at her side. With a sword. He no longer found the jealousy Ewan, Sigimor, and others suffered over the man all that funny.

  “The lasses have always chased Liam,” he said as he cut up a few bits of chicken and set it before Charlemagne. “It didnae stop him from turning his back on them and entering the monastery for several years.”

  “Ah, true. Weel, Keira will tell me what troubles her when I see her, so I shall cease to fret o’er it. Mayhap by the time we reach Scarglas the sadness I feel she is suffering now will have passed.” She frowned as the wind blew so strongly it rattled the door. “’Tis going to be a verra fierce storm. Do ye think we ought to bring the horse in here with us?”

  He bit back a smile. Only Alana would fret about such a big, strong horse being caught out in a storm and actually suggest they share their small shelter with the beast. She had a very soft heart as concerned animals. He was glad she did not allow it to make her hesitate to catch a fish or a rabbit, although he suspected she would swiftly and gladly give up her hunting when their journey ended.

  “There is a wee shelter for him at the back of this hut, and this place also shelters it from the worst of the wind. I think the monks, and others, may use this place when they travel, for ’tis weel supplied with wood and peat for the fire and hay for the horse. Those who use it must replace what they use whilst here. We are following a weel-traveled drover’s trail and they, too, like to have some shelter along the way as they take the cattle to market.”

  Gregor had been planning to stop at an inn between the monastery and Scarglas, but he was now glad they would not be spending the night there. He had suddenly recalled that there was a buxom maid or two there who knew him very well. Alana knew he was no innocent, but he did not want her actually meeting any women from his past. Even worse, there was absolutely no chance his frolics there had been forgotten, for they had been frequent and he had spent a lively night there just before traveling to begin his courtship of Mavis. He really had been a greedy piglet, he thought ruefully.

  Alana looked at Gregor as she drank from the wineskin Matthew had sent along with them, enjoying the way the sight of him and the heady drink warmed her insides. Suddenly she felt guilty for not telling him about her father’s plans for her. Trust was an important part of the marriage she was longing for. By not telling him, she was, in a way, lying to him, and there was always the chance that he would find out. It would be even worse if her father had broken with Murray tradition and actually arranged a betrothal, binding her to someone without asking her approval of the man first. She did not think he would do so, but it was not impossible, and there was a good chance he could come very close to doing so. That would set a complication in her path that would prove very awkward to step around. And, she thought, Gregor’s reaction to the possibility that she might be given to another man could tell her something important about how he felt about her.

  “Still troubled about your sister?” Gregor asked when he caught her staring at him.

  “Nay, not so much anymore.” She grimaced. “I was but thinking of my family. I left them a note and all, but they will still worry about me. My disappearance could also prove a wee bit awkward for my father.”

  “Awkward? How so?”

  “Weel, I didnae lie to ye when I said I was neither married nor betrothed, because I wasnae when I left Donncoill. Howbeit, my father was searching for a husband for me,” she admitted quietly. “It isnae the way we Murrays usually do it, but—” She shrugged.

  Gregor violently disliked the idea that some man might, even now, be given the right to lay claim to Alana. “But what?”

  “I am two-and-twenty, ye ken. Many years past the age when a lass is usually married. Many women my age have a few bairns clinging to their skirts by now. I hadnae e’en been properly kissed, as I think ye ken weel by now. So, my father suggested that he find a husband for me and I decided he may as weel do so as I was a sad failure at it. He was setting about the chore when I decided I had to find Keira.”

  It was an awkward conversation for him to get tangled up in, Gregor mused. He did not believe that Alana was telling him this in some sly attempt to get him to offer her marriage. This was a confession, nothing more. They were lovers and she obviously felt he was owed the full truth about her circumstances.

  He was going to have to tread warily. He wanted to assure her that she need not worry, that she was his and he would be more than willing to face down any man who tried to say elsewise, but he had to bite back the words. It would be just his poor luck to speak so fulsomely to Alana and then have her discover his courtship of Mavis. Alana would think him some faithless idiot who made a habit of offering marriage to a woman.

  “If ’tis the custom amongst the Murrays to allow their women to choose their mates, I suspicion your father will hold to it,” he murmured. “I doubt he continued at the task once ye disappeared anyway. He would be putting all his time and wits to the matter of finding ye.”

  For a moment, when she had told him of the possibility that a marriage could have been arranged for her, Gregor had looked gratifyingly fierce. But only for a mom
ent. Alana sighed. She had seen the hint of jealousy or possessiveness in his eyes, but not enough to make her certain he felt it very deeply. It was enough that she had been fully honest with him, she told herself, but she did not really believe it. She was growing weary of telling herself that something was enough when it was not enough at all. She simply nodded in response to his words and went to fetch the bucket he had set outside and then placed it near the fire in the hope that it would take a little of the chill off the rainwater.

  Gregor inwardly cursed and moved away to collect their blankets and make a bed for them near the fire. He told himself that his complication was not the same as Alana’s. It was not unusual for a father to search out a husband for his daughter, whereas he was his own man and had purposely set out to find a wife who could give him land and coin. She had confessed to something she had no real power over, something that may or may not have been settled while she was running around trying to find her sister. His confession, if he roused the courage to give it, was about something he had chosen to do, something that had already happened and that he now knew had been a mistake.

  When Alana stepped out for a moment of privacy, he cursed himself for a complete coward. He could list all the good reasons he could think of for not grabbing this chance to confess about Mavis, but his silence was born of fear. There was so little time left to be alone with Alana that he did not wish to give her any reason to pull away from him now. A woman he was but a few words and a signature away from being betrothed to would be a very good reason to Alana.

  The moment Alana dashed back inside, he hurried out. It was cold and the wind was so strong it made the rain sting as it struck him. Gregor took care of his needs, checked on the welfare of the horse, and hurried back inside. He barred the door even though it looked as if a strong man could easily knock it down, barred or not, and then turned toward Alana. She was already curled up beneath the blankets, her clothing folded neatly on top of her pack. Gregor did not hesitate to strip off his clothes, have a quick wash, and crawl beneath the blanket with her.

  He pulled her into his arms, pleased that she was already as naked as he was. “Thank God that your cousin doesnae like to get wet,” he said as he stroked her slim back. “’Tis a braw storm and I am that glad we are out of it.”

  “And the horse isnae suffering?” she asked, idly caressing his hip.

  “The horse is fine,” he said, laughter tinting his voice, and he kissed her on the cheek when she blushed. “Trust me, if I thought any harm would come to the animal, I would bring him in here whether ye liked it or nay. A mon who doesnae care for his horse as if it is his own blood kin is a fool.”

  She nodded and huddled a little closer to him as the wind howled around the hut. Alana shook aside the disappointment she still felt over his lack of any easily read response to her confession. It had been foolish to think it would be enough to reveal any great secret about his feelings for her. She was fortunate that he had not thought she was trying to prod some declaration or vow out of him. From what she had learned about men and women from the men in her family, trickery such as that was something that could make them very angry. She wanted to build upon Gregor’s trust in her, not rip it all down. And she had added to that trust he felt; she was certain of it. That would have to be enough for now.

  Gregor tilted her face up to his and kissed her, the desire he stirred so effortlessly quickly banishing her troubled thoughts. Alana clung to him as he gently urged her onto her back. She hoped her troubles never grew so great that Gregor could not kiss them away. A little voice in her head added the words if he stays with ye, but she ignored it. Their time to be alone together, to act freely upon their desires, was rapidly fading and she would not waste any more of that precious time fretting about the future.

  Hungry for the way his lovemaking could make her feel, for the way it cleared her mind and heart of all worries, she gave herself over to the passion soaring within her body. She only tensed a little when his kisses moved down her body and she felt the heat of his mouth upon that part she had no name for. The way his intimate kiss made her feel, however, was too good to resist, even though the wildness that seized her was a little frightening. She could feel Gregor’s pleasure flowing into her and knew he was almost as stirred by the act as she was. The fleeting thought that he might like her to do something similar to him skipped through her passion-dazed mind but was swiftly gone as blind desire left her with no ability to do any more thinking.

  As she felt herself teetering on that sharp edge he could so easily lead her to, Alana heard herself call out for him to join her. She could barely recognize herself in that hoarse, demanding voice. Gregor laughed as he kissed his way back up her body, feasting upon her breasts as he thrust inside her. His possession of her was fierce, his movements hard and fast, and she reveled in it all. The way he joined her in her release only added to the glory of it all. The way his cry of completion blended with hers was sweet music to her ears.

  Struggling to catch her breath, Alana trailed her fingers up and down his spine. He was careful not to rest his full weight on top of her and she was able to enjoy the feel of his body pressed so close to hers. His breath was hot against the curve of her neck and it warmed her. She smiled faintly as she realized she even liked the way he slowly grew soft and slipped free of her body.

  Her thoughts clearer, she was able to carefully consider the small differences she had felt in Gregor as they had made love. There had been a strong hint of possessiveness within him, a fierce, manly urge to claim her and hold fast to that claim. She had been so completely caught up in the force of her own desire and need, she had barely acknowledged the intrusion of such a feeling, but she could not ignore it now. It was possible that he had not been as unmoved by the thought of her being given to another man as he had appeared or wanted her to believe.

  Hope stirred within her heart and she was unable to fully banish it. Gregor had just tried to mark her in some strange, manly way. She was sure of it. Alana knew a man could feel possessive about something or someone without wanting to keep it forever. Men could even feel possessive about their dagger, and yet they would never attach any of the softer emotions to that feeling. Nonetheless, she decided, there was no harm in thinking it was a good sign. She would remain cautious, but she would allow herself to see some small hope for success in the way he had repeated one word over and over again.

  With each thrust of his body, he had spoken the word mine.

  Chapter 14

  Gregor woke from a very sensuous dream about Alana. It was a moment before he woke up enough to realize it was not really a dream. Alana’s warm lips and soft little hands were making a thorough exploration of his body. He groaned and trembled slightly when she wrapped her hand around his erection and gently stroked him. Glancing down his body, he caught her peering up at him through a tangled mass of her thick hair, a blush and a faint smile upon her face.

  “Good morning,” she murmured, casting him a decidedly sultry look from beneath her long lashes as she slowly ran her tongue up his ribs.

  “Och, aye, ’tis that,” he replied, clenching his fists at his sides as she slipped a little lower down his body to kiss his belly as she continued to stroke him with her long, slender fingers.

  It took all his willpower not to grab her and take control over their lovemaking. He was hard and aching to be inside her, but he fought to rein in that mindless need. Alana was being very bold and he did not wish to stop her. He was tense with hope and anticipation over just how bold she might choose to be. She was certainly headed in the right direction, he thought, groaning again as he felt the hard tip of her breast move against his thigh.

  When her kisses moved to his thighs instead of the place that so ached for the touch of her lips, her soft hair brushing over his groin, he felt his desire grow despite his disappointment. He was just thinking that it was foolish to expect her to do something she had probably never heard of when he felt her run her tongue slowly up the lengt
h of him. Gregor could not stop himself from arching slightly, silently asking her for what he now desperately wanted her to do.

  “Jesu, lass,” he groaned when the heat of her mouth surrounded him, only to curse when she swiftly pulled away.

  “Wrong?” she asked in a very small voice.

  “Nay! Right! Verra right,” he said, threading his fingers in her hair and gently urging her to do it again. “There’s a good lass.”

  What a stupid thing to say, he thought a little wildly. He was not surprised to feel the faint gust of her breath against his skin as she giggled. His idiocy did not stop her, however, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks as the damp warmth of her mouth again encircled him.

  Closing his eyes, he fought to keep a tight rein upon his passion so that he could enjoy this delight for as long as possible. It was something he had indulged in only twice. Once when he was a mere lad learning the art of love from a much older widow and any caress could finish him and once again as a young man with a few years of experience under his belt. That last time he had enjoyed in some ways, but the woman had performed the act with such a strong air of self-sacrifice that he had never requested it again. The feel of Alana’s mouth, however, was driving him mad with pure, hot pleasure, one heightened by the feeling that she was only trying to give him pleasure, a pleasure he began to think she was gaining as well as giving.

  Too soon he knew he could not hold back any longer and he grabbed her beneath the arms to drag her up his body. “Now, lass, take me inside ye and ride me hard,” he said as he settled her on top of him.

  Intrigued, Alana straddled his hips and slowly joined their bodies. She closed her eyes as pleasure swept over her with such force it made her feel a bit light-headed. Then Gregor grabbed her by the hips and urged her to move. She quickly took the lead from him, inspired by his husky words of passion and encouragement. This time she could almost feel his release build and she was right there to share it with him. Still trembling from the strength of what she had experienced in his arms, she collapsed on top of him. Beneath the ear she pressed against his broad chest, she could hear his heart pounding as hard as hers was.