Highland Song

by Young, Christine

  He touched her cheek with a calloused fingertip. She moved back terrified of her emotional reaction to his soft caress. What bothered her even more was that Slade didn’t seem to feel anything save passion when he touched her or looked at her.

  "This is all a game to you. I dinna ken why you want to torment me so. Why don’t you just let me go?"

  "No game, Lainie. Remembering the way your passion blossoms when I touch you and remembering your taste is torture to me," he said. “I want you.”

  Slade felt more than he was letting Lainie see. And he wasn't willing to tell her how very much she affected him.

  When he wasn’t peering over his shoulder searching for shadows on the road behind them, he was remembering the moment when he had first breathed in the scent of roses and tasted the velvet hardness of her nipples.

  But thinking and remembering was all he had done, despite the ever-present temptation of their evening campsites, where firelight beckoned and stars glittered against a velvet sky. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling someone followed. Rolling around on the ground with a cunning little fox was the kind of distraction that could be deadly--particularly if Jericho was the man dogging Slade’s trail.

  If the reminder of Jericho wasn’t enough to stop Slade from making a fatal mistake, there was the fact that they would reach his estate by mid-afternoon tomorrow. His conscience was giving him a bad enough time as it was about bringing a woman wanted by the English for treason, a woman who had been Bertram's mistress into his sister's home.

  And yet…

  Slade turned and looked at the silent girl who was watching his with eyes the color of a summer sky.

  "Tell me…"

  "I was thinking about the highlands. And your promise to me," Lainie said, only half of the truth she was willing to talk about.

  Slade’s lips tightened.

  "Promises, huh?" he said sarcastically. "I should have known. What someone else gives you can take? Taking is all women like you think about. Well, we’re a long ways from your ancestral home. And I’ve a mind to convince you giving is always more satisfying than taking."

  "I do want something from you, but it isn’t money or trinkets. I want my freedom and your asking a high price for it."

  "You want your freedom, little fox. I’m in total control of that and in my mind the price isn’t too much to ask."

  Slade rubbed the stubble on his chin and said nothing.

  "Surely you can’t be afraid I’m going to cut and run with your evidence against me," she said. "My little mare isn’t a match for your stallion."

  Slade looked at Lainie in the firelight. Without a word, he stood and strode away from her. He came back a moment later, carrying the journal in his hands. Still saying nothing, he sat cross-legged by the fire and opened the journal.

  When Lainie didn’t move, he glanced aside at her.

  "I think it’s time I found out a whole lot more about the little fox who turned spy. I wonder…"

  "Why is I was forced to do what I did is not your business," she told him curtly her hands closing into tight fists.

  Slowly Slade shook his head.

  "Convince me," he said, watching her while he opened the book holding her private thoughts. "Are the answers in here?"

  The look in Slade’s eyes terrified her. She knew there was nothing in there that would completely give away what Bertram did to her that long ago day. But she also knew he already guessed half of it. Warily, she scooted sideways until she was sitting next to him. By bending over his arm and craning her neck, she was able to see the journal’s faded spidery script.

  The words were so familiar to her she knew them by heart.

  I will never let myself forget that day--

  "Those thoughts are private, Slade. You have no right to invade my world."

  "I know," Slade said. "That’s why I’m so interested in them. If I knew what you were keeping from me, I might understand you better." His voice held a gentleness she'd never heard before from him.

  "I don't want you to understand me," Lainie said, but she knew any argument she had with Slade, Slade would win.

  I'm stronger than you. I taught you that first…

  Lainie leaned closer, wanting to know what he was reading and preparing a defense in case his guesses came too close to the truth. She peered closer cutting off some of the firelight.

  "You take it," Slade handed her the journal.

  "You mean it?" A wave of relief swept through her.

  "Yes," he told her. He was smiling in anticipation of something Lainie wasn't sure she understood. But she knew whatever it was she didn't think she would like it.

  Before Lainie’s hands had done more than close around the soft leather, Slade lifted her and settled her in his lap with her back to his chest. When she tried to move off his lap, he held her in place.

  "Too uncomfortable?" Slade asked.

  "I don’t like this," Lainie said. “I want you to let me go,” she said stiffening.

  "Too bad. Open the journal," Slade insisted.

  "No."

  "You don’t have a choice," he said dryly. "I want to know more about you. And I'm thinking this is the only way."

  When Lainie started to move off his lap again, Slade held her in place with offhanded ease.

  "I won’t force you," he told her in a calm voice. "But I also told you I wasn’t going to keep my hands off you." He shrugged. "I always keep my promises. What about you? Do you keep your promises? Or are you like all the other women I’ve known?"

  "I keep my word," Lainie said through her teeth. "But I never promised to sit in your lap."

  "Read to me. The light is good enough, isn’t it?" he asked. "Do you know how to read?"

  She nodded to both questions, inhaled a long secret breath, and opened her journal to the first page. All the words on the page blurred. The feel of Slade’s body against her back, her hips, her thighs sent her pulse racing and her mind into a tailspin. She couldn't think. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart thundered against her ribs. She felt as if she were consumed by fever.

  Slade reached around Lainie and opened the journal for her.

  "Read aloud," he told her.

  His voice sounded as casual as though he spent every night with a girl in his lap reading books.

  Perhaps that isn’t far from the truth, Lainie thought.

  "I should bring this to your attention," Slade said his voice soft, his breath whispering across her neck, "If what you read doesn’t catch my interest, I can always find other ways to amuse myself." His lips touched a sensitive spot below her ear.

  The sensual promise in his voice was unmistakable. The heat racing through her was undeniable.

  "I left the castle against my brother’s specific orders. I didn’t see a reason to stay inside. The spring sunshine beckoned and I knew the English soldiers had left," Lainie said quickly, hoping Slade didn’t hear the unevenness of her voice. "My maid went with me…"

  Her voice fragmented as she felt the collar of her jacket tugged down in back. The warmth of Slade’s breath on her neck made her shiver. Goose bump ran down her arm. His teeth grazed her ever so slightly.

  "W-what do you think you are doing?" she asked.

  "Just read."

  "I don’t think I can…"

  The brush of his lips against Lainie’s nape stole her breath.

  "Read."

  "You’re distracting me."

  "Ignore it. Read."

  "I didn’t expect anything to happen. We had news Bertram and his men had left for London. Hawke had left with his new wife and…"

  Lainie chocked back a startled cry as Slade’s teeth tested the softness of her skin with ravishing delicacy then his tongue followed suit.

  "Don’t stop," he whispered.

  "Are you even listening to what I’m reading?"

  The tip of his tongue circled her nape. She trembled from his touch and she was sure he felt the tremor that raced through her and she wondered if it was f
ear or anticipation.

  "The marriage infuriated many of the English aristocracy."

  Lainie reminded herself of the promises that were made. She had agreed to let Slade try seducing her. Why on earth had she been so stupid?

  She hadn’t agreed to his success. After what Bertram had done to her, she didn’t believe any man could seduce her. But Slade affected her in ways she didn't understand.

  "They didn’t want English property to fall into Scottish hands," she said curtly. "After all the tendency seems to run in the other directions. The English have a way of stealing our land."

  "So true," he agreed with her, touching her once more with a feather light caress. "Keep reading."

  "That wasn’t part of the bargain."

  The heat of Slade’s mouth on Lainie’s neck sent an inferno sweeping through her. The hot suction and fine edges of his teeth sent the wildfire all the way to her nerves. His fingers ran up and down her arms, enticing, seducing, tempting her in every way possible.

  Slade felt the shudder that swept the length of her body when he made contact and wondered at his earlier conclusions that she might have been abused by Bertram. If Bertram had forced her, he didn’t think she could react so intensely to his beginning attempts at seduction.

  There was no doubt, whether fear or sensuality ruled Slade. The taste of Lainie’s naked skin and the feel of her hips snug between his thighs was a pleasure hot enough to burn. He shifted slightly, increasing the sweet pressure against his rapidly hardening flesh.

  "Hawke gave Callie’s land to Ian, our brother. He didn’t want it for himself. I suppose you know their whole story."

  She tried to wriggle off Slade’s lap. Every tiny movement she made only served to increase the intimate contact between them.

  She became very still.

  "Most of it," he said in a lazy voice.

  "Then why do you keep…"

  "Because it’s fun. And I want to see what will happen next. Will you let me kiss you, little fox?"

  Lainie tried to turn the pages but her fingers didn’t want to obey her. And Slade was holding the journal in such a manner she couldn’t turn more than a page at a time.

  "That’s not fair," she said.

  Slade made a throaty, questioning sound that ruffled her nerves almost as much as a physical touch.

  "I can’t stay here," she said and once again tried to find a way to remove herself from Slade’s lap.

  Lainie’s words were lost in a stifled gasp as Slade’s lips moved with a silken touch along her hairline.

  "Slade." The one word shivered through the night.

  "You hold the journal then. But if you try climbing out of my lap, you won’t like the consequences."

  Lainie took the journal from Slade’s hands but she didn’t read anything. She knew what he wanted her to admit to but she wasn’t ready. She could not tell him how much she liked it when he touched her and that, yes, she wanted him to keep touching her.

  Slade’s long, deft fingers began unfastening her jacket.

  "It was the ring," she said quickly. "They were trying to find the ring."

  "Really."

  The jacket began to fall open, allowing the cool night air to wash Lainie’s throat. She let her eyelids flutter closed and tried to breathe past her heart, which seemed lodged halfway up her throat. She felt as if she were burning from the inside out.

  "But Hawke melted it," she said.

  Just like I'm melting. I wonder if the fire was as hot as the one Slade is making burn inside me.

  "Why would he do that?" Slade asked.

  "So he couldn’t be accused of treason like his father."

  "So, treason runs in your family. It didn’t even skip a generation," Slade said deeply. "It seems I heard about a MacPherson--his head on a pole, convicted of crimes against the crown. Go on little fox. This gets more interesting with each sentence you read."

  "No, I don’t want to read anymore. I’m finished." She tried to close the book but Slade wasn't paying any attention to her.

  Lainie gasped softly as her jacket gave way beneath Slade’s gentle urging. The worn white shirt that had once been Hawke’s glowed in the firelight as though made of satin.

  "Don’t be afraid," Slade said. "I’m not doing anything that we didn’t do before."

  "That doesn’t reassure me," she told him, her voice shaking.

  "Hawke vowed to avenge his father’s death. I heard of it."

  "He did. But he fell in love instead."

  Her breath rushed out when long fingers stroked her throat lightly, caressing the frantic race of her pulse then traced her collarbone.

  "…he didn’t want to though. He wanted to hate Callie."

  Slade slipped the laces from the top of her shirt, then lower, pulling the strings through each tiny hole very slowly, his knuckles fleetingly touching her skin again and again.

  "Why didn’t he?" Slade asked softly as he pulled her shirt apart.

  Lainie dropped the book and grabbed the edges of her shirt. It was too late. Slade’s hands were already stroking bare skin, luring her body with promises of sweet hot pleasure.

  Not pain, she thought. Slade was nothing like Bertram. Oh, God, just tell him to stop.

  But I don't want him to stop.

  "Because he fell in love with Callie."

  Slade's eyes narrowed as he added, "Love doesn't exist."

  "Stop," Lainie said.

  Even Lainie couldn't tell if she meant the word for Slade or for herself. The sensual pressure and the constant promise of something she'd never felt before left her breathless as well as curious. He lured her ever deeper. The hardness of his callused palms pressing against her hardened nipples burned her.

  "Pleasure, not fear," he breathed against her neck. "We'll burn down the forests, little fox. Then we'll soar to the sun."

  Lainie came to her senses with a suddenness that startled her. She twisted aside, all but falling to the ground, as she pulled free of Slade's knowing hands.

  "No," she said with small conviction, yet knowing she had to stop this.

  For a few tense moments, Lainie thought Slade would pull her back on his lap. Then he let out an explosive breath that was also a curse.

  "It's just as well, little fox. If I keep touching you, I'll have you." He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't want to take my mistress into my sister's home."

  Lainie had never felt so humiliated. She drew her shirt then her jacket together, anger blazing, not passion. She hated men.

  "That won't be a problem," she said.

  "What?"

  "My being your mistress. It will never happen."

  Slade flinched as if he recognized the bitterness in her voice as well as the determination. "Breaking your promise so soon, little fox? For a few short moments, I thought better of you."

  Lainie squared her shoulders. Her eyes burned as hotly as the fire.

  "I promised you could try to get me into your bed. I didn't guarantee you success. As far as I'm concerned, you'll never seduce me. You can't insult me one second and think to seduce me to your bed the next."

  "You're wrong. I'll win. I never lose. And you will be helping me ever second of the way. It will be the most fun you have ever had paying off a debt."

  The white flash of Slade's smile infuriated her.

  "Don't count on it, Englishman. No girl wants a man who makes her feel used and worthless save for her body.

  Chapter Six

  Two days later Slade brought his horse to a stop on a rise just above the estate. "We're here," he spoke with a reverence in his voice Lainie had never heard before.

  "Your sister's home?" Lainie watched with wondering curiosity. The change that came over him when he looked at the rolling green hills was amazing. The narrowed eyes and predatory alertness vanished, softening the hard lines of his features, revealing a man who was relaxed and quick to smile. She had thought him to be older. Now looking at Slade, she was sure he was much younger and ages less hard.
r />   "'Tis beautiful," Lainie waved her hand.

  "It's flat and green and there are few contrasts, but it is beautiful," Slade said as if he didn't want to acknowledge his feelings.

  Even though they rode through English countryside, the change that had come over Slade was enough to make her appreciate the scenery, but there was more. The country estate was magnificent and the setting was exceptionally beautiful. The land was green and the sun made the damp grass sparkle with prisms of color. Beyond the house, a silver-blue river shimmered with trees dotting the banks. On the north side of the valley, hills rolled behind the home and she knew eventually they would climb to the higher more rugged mountains of the highlands.