Highland Song

by Young, Christine

  "Of course not, hold out your arms."

  He did as was told and she slipped the shirt on, pulling the sticking fabric over damp skin. The backs of her hands, grazed his body and he inhaled a swift deep breath.

  "Fasten it for me?" he asked blandly, unable to ignore the feel of the backs of her hands against his flesh. It seemed he burned everywhere she touched him. And he wondered why he wanted to torture himself.

  Lainie's eyes widened. "You cannot fasten your own shirt?"

  "I wouldn't want you to do anything you didn't want to do. It wasn't part of…"

  "Our agreement," she muttered, reaching for the first tie. "I suppose you'll want me to undress you next."

  "Are you volunteering?" he asked hopefully, watching the expression on her face flit, change and dance as quickly as the moonstruck shadows. And realizing the thought of her undressing him hardened every part of him. "I'm sure I would be pleased to accommodate your wishes."

  "Nay," she said quickly. "Undressing you is definitely not part of..."

  "Our agreement." He flashed a smile, watching her brows furrow together in concentration.

  She gasped slightly, her fingers shaking while she tried to make sense of the ties. His grin widened.

  The smell of roses hung in the night air, permeating Slade with her fragrance more deeply than even the scented soap had. Why did she touch a part of him he'd thought long dead? Why did he want to believe her lies?

  It's just as well, I've already decided not to take her back to Bertram. If I did, I'd have to kill him for whatever wrongs he did to her, Slade thought grimly.

  If he did do anything wrong.

  "You're done," Lainie said.

  "I don't think so. You haven't tucked the shirt in yet." He was a fool to continue this.

  "What! The wee clootie has taken hold of your brain, Aaron Slade." I dinna intend to tuck your shirt into your britches."

  "Clootie?"

  "Little devil," she told him.

  "Lainie dear, it's not like I'm asking you to undress me. I could you know."

  Lainie cocked her head again as if she were trying to read his schooled features. "But tucking your shirt in--it's too--intimate."

  Slade grinned.

  "I could do what pleases me the most. I could touch you. And that is part of our agreement--anytime, anywhere. As it stands now, I'm leaving you in complete control."

  "Slade."

  For a moment, Lainie looked as if she were going to bolt. Instead, he watched her inhale a sharp breath of air then she reached for Slade. The top fastening was still undone so it didn't take her long to begin the task. If Slade weren't so fascinated by her, he would have laughed.

  As if he burned her, she started tucking in his shirt at the back and working forward.

  Seconds later, Slade's breath rushed in as he felt the pressure of Lainie's fingers slide across his aroused flesh.

  She made a little gasp of her own and tried to jerk her hands out of his pants. "Slade, I can't."

  Slade caught her wrists and held her fingers where they were, where he had wanted them to be for so long he almost lost control at her mere touch. "You can," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "Finish what you started."

  "Slade, no. I can't do this." Lainie tried to remove her hands.

  "Easy little fox. There's nothing down there that's going to hurt you. And you've unfastened enough pants to know it as well as I do." He breathed in deeply, wishing for so much more than she seemed willing to give him. The mere thought that she'd given this to Bertram and refused him sent a wave of frustration shooting inside.

  She shook her head and moistened her lips as if she wanted to speak but only a low little moan came from her lips. Then, "I haven't. I haven't, Slade. I haven't done this before."

  Slade didn't want to argue with her. He only wanted her to keep touching him.

  "I'm tempted to see where this will go, but Jericho could be around the corner. I'll settle for another one of your kisses…"Slade said.

  "Nay…"

  Lainie tried to remove her shaking hand. Her futile efforts only served to rub her fingers over his aroused flesh once more. He watched her close her eyes then open them again. She moistened her lips.

  Slade moaned low in his throat, pleasure pure and sweet burning like a wildfire shot through his body. He looked hungrily at the soft lips only inches from his mouth. He wanted to possess her, to touch her everywhere. Even while sexual thoughts drove him he wondered at the seeming innocence that stood before him.

  "Don't move--" he began roughly.

  "Let go of me."

  "--or else I'll pull off my britches," Slade continued in a rough voice, his fingers circling her wrist, "and see that we finish what we started here right now, and to hell with anyone who might be following us."

  "I'm not part of this. You started this. I don't want…"

  "Don't move--" he warned harshly.

  Lainie froze.

  Slade's breath hissed out in a rush. With infinite slowness, he began to ease her hands from his britches, then stopped. They were stuck right where he wanted them. Balled into tight little fists her hands weren't going anywhere.

  "Lainie, open your hands. Now!"

  "What do you want from me?" she wailed.

  "Do it," he told her, wishing this didn't have to end. "Slowly, little fox. Very slowly, open those tiny little fingers." And he silently cursed himself for a fool. He had brought this on himself. He'd had too much fun teasing her and watching her passion filled eyes hunger for him.

  Lainie opened her hands. As she did, she touched all of him, every inch of aroused male flesh. Her breath rushed in and her eyes widened.

  A groan emanated from Slade. He felt as if he was being strung tight and she looked as if she was ready to bolt. He eased her hands from his britches, but instead of letting her go as common sense would have dictated, he pulled her wrists up and over his shoulders. He reveled at the feel of her body next to his. He felt her breast harden against his damp chest.

  "I've wanted to do this for a long time," he spoke softly. "I want you to kiss me." Her eyes were filled with raw hunger yet he knew she feared him. He wanted to erase the fear forever from her eyes. And for a moment he was struck with the thought that Bertram had put that fear in her eyes. His gut tightened. Hatred for the general centered in his head.

  She swallowed hard and licked her lips.

  He could almost taste her. "Do you keep your word, little fox?" he challenged. "Kiss me. Taste me and forget about Bertram."

  She nodded, her eyes closing and then opening. Black sooty lashes fell across alabaster cheeks. "I have never gone back on a promise. But I never agreed to kiss you."

  "I won't force you. Is that what you're afraid of?" The words stunned him. Had Bertram forced her? He felt his stomach knot. "Kiss me."

  Her smile was forced. "I'm afraid you won't keep your promise. If I kiss you, you might take something I don't want to give you."

  "Don't be afraid of me," he whispered, his mouth descending so the words whispered across her lips.

  Slade's mouth closed over Lainie's. His tongue slid between her lips, cutting off the possibility of talking. To deny him, she would have to push him away.

  Slade was surprised when she didn't protest or fight him. He'd expected a little of both. Once he understood her response to him was genuine and hot, he held her tenderly and let her take the lead.

  The sensations ripping through Slade sent his mind spinning. Of her own accord, her fingertips tightened around his neck, bringing her flush against him. She was soft and the heat from her swept through him. As Lainie deepened the kiss, currents of awareness that had burst into life the instant he had seen her in the dark corner of the tavern flared, sending a tremor sweeping hot and deep inside.

  He wanted her more than anything and he wouldn't rest until he did know her intimately. But for a short moment, he pulled back and watched.

  Slade studied Lainie, sensing she felt the same hea
t, the same raw hunger he did. Yet all he could see of Lainie was sooty lashes lowered against alabaster skin and shimmering hair.

  She looked up and smiled shyly at Slade then almost hesitating she kissed Slade and touched Slade's tongue with her own. He groaned.

  "You know how I like it, Lainie, hot and deep." Then it seemed she obeyed him, deepening the kiss, touching him, exploring him. A mercuric heat settled in the pit of Slade's stomach. His hands roamed the length of her back, exploring her, melding her more tightly against him.

  Her grip on Slade tightened even as she pulled back.

  Slade made a thick sound of protest.

  "I can't breathe," Lainie tried to explain.

  The huskiness of her voice told Slade more than her words. He caught her lower lip gently between his teeth and bit with great care, drinking her startled gasp and reveling in her passionate response. Her body vibrated with passion as her hips slowly rocked against him, silently begging him for more.

  "Don't quit on me now, little fox."

  "Slade?"

  "Remember? Remember how I taught you to kiss?" he asked, urging her to come to him.

  Slade's arms tightened, arching Lainie closer to his hungry mouth.

  "Don't tell me you've forgotten."

  He didn't give her time to reply. He caught her lips under his own. His head moved abruptly, opening Lainie's mouth once more. Heat raced through him.

  The sensual exploration of Slade's tongue drew a tiny noise from the back of her throat. Her body tightened, but not in protest of the increasing force of the embrace. This time she arched into him without coercion.

  The innocent touches of her tongue against his changed. She explored more deeply into his mouth, tasted him more fully, stroked his tongue completely with her own. The sensation of her tongue tangling, rhythmically with his made his head spin. His breath wedged in his throat until he could barely breathe.

  "Keep that up and I will surely melt," he whispered into her mouth.

  Slade made a thick sound and pulled Lainie closer, taking and giving a kiss that made him realize he had never really kissed a woman before--not like this, two hungry flames burning, twisting, straining toward each other across the barriers of flesh and clothing.

  "Sweet jesu, Lainie, you make my head spin."

  When Lainie finally tore her mouth from Slade's, her breathing was ragged.

  She gazed up at him with dazed eyes. His fingers sank into the resilient flesh of Lainie's hips as he dragged her against himself, letting her feel the fire she had started.

  "Little fox, You're burning me alive."

  "Nay, 'Tis ye. Burning me. I don't understand what is happening. It wasn't like this…"

  Slade paused for a moment, her words penetrating the flames sweeping through him. "…before?" he questioned but didn't wait for a response. He lifted Lainie, holding her suspended in his arms, while his tongue made hot entreaties into her mouth. He wanted to take her down to the ground and bury himself in her warm and sultry body, but knew it was far too dangerous.

  He didn't have a death wish. Jericho could be around the last curve in the trail.

  Bloody hell I should have killed him in Ayr.

  Slade's arms tightened and he took Lainie's mouth as he wanted to take the rest of her body. Without breaking the kiss, he carried her two short steps to the weathered ledge and sat down.

  Lainie made a surprised sound when she found herself sitting across Slade's legs. He unsheathed his sword and let it rest on the ledge next to him within easy reach. With a wall of stone at his back and a lap full of warm woman, he was as safe as he was going to be.

  You're a fool to even think of safety or caution with a warm willing woman in your lap, Slade thought disdainfully.

  But with a woman who touched him as no other woman had, Jericho seemed very far away. Her kiss was as hot and sultry as his wildest imagination, making and meeting sensual demands. Her kiss was enough to make him forget that a woman only wanted what she could seduce from a man.

  Slade had never had a woman want him so much she forgot the coy game of tease and retreat and ended up burning in her own fire. Knowing Lainie wanted him that much made Slade shake with a hunger greater than he had ever known.

  Sweet Jesus," Slade said heavily.

  Before Lainie could say anything, Slade's mouth fastened urgently on hers. The cloth of the shirt she wore was frail with long use, and so thinned by age that it was little barrier to his explorations. She wore nothing underneath but the heat that radiated up to him, stripping away his restraint.

  Beneath Slade's nimble fingers, he could feel Lainie tremble. Then Slade's mouth replaced his hands, testing and tugging at Lainie's sensitive flesh through the cloth. Her nipples hardened into tiny little buds. The low sound of pleasure she made encouraged Slade even more and sent him close to the breaking edge of his restraint. His hands tightened reflexively as he fought to control the unexpected fury of his need. As his fingers clenched, the worn-out cloth of her shirt gave way at the shoulder seams. A flap of material fell forward, revealing one perfect breast.

  Slade groaned. He had not meant to tempt himself like this. But having done it, he couldn't resist.

  He lowered his head and took the hard peak deep into his mouth, laving the tip with his tongue and his teeth. She tasted of hot steamy afternoons, of roses and hidden pools and secret pleasures. The husky sound he drew from her throat was a siren song urging him to forget whatever danger might wait in the encompassing darkness.

  The rest of the fabric fell apart with a soft sound that was lost in the rippling cries Lainie made while Slade's mouth and hands continued their evocative play. Her breasts pressed against his naked chest sent a hotter and wilder inferno sweeping within.

  Slade was a man well and truly damned. He didn't care what dangers were out there. He eased his hand between her legs until only the fragile barrier of old cloth separated his fingers from her hidden softness. Passion seemed to burst through Lainie, drenching her in liquid heat that Slade could feel through the thin worn cloth. He wanted to touch and taste all of her.

  "You have no idea what you are doing to me," Lainie whispered raggedly.

  Slade laughed almost painfully. "Ah, but I think I do know. Do it again sweet little fox."

  "Slade?"

  His hand moved once more, tightening around the soft flesh that wept passionately at his lightest caress.

  Lainie gasped. Slade felt the liquid fire spread from her body to his hand.

  Without warning, Lainie's fingers gripped Slade's wrist, leaving deep marks. "Nay," Lainie cried. "Slade, nay! Ye cannae mean to do this to me."

  "You're burning up with need for me. You're trembling with it." Slade said, but he felt the panic in her voice and didn't understand how she could change so quickly.

  "Nay!" Lainie said frantically. "You promised ye wouldn't force. I don't want to do this. I couldnae bear it if ye made me."

  Slade hissed words that made Lainie turn pale. Without warning, he shoved her off his lap so fast she barely caught her balance against the cliff ledge. She yanked her shirt up to cover herself and faced him with an anger blazing in her eyes.

  "You have no right to call me names," she said in a shaking voice.

  "Bloody hell. You teased me and--"

  "Teased you?" she interrupted wildly. "I wasn't the one taking off your clothes and putting my hand between your legs and--"

  "I wouldn't have minded your hands between my legs," Slade snarled, talking over her.

  "I didn't--didn't mean to be a tease," Lainie stammered. "I don't know what--what happened."

  "The hell you don't," Slade said savagely. "A thieving little tease found herself dangling at the end of her own rope. You thought you would tempt me and I would do your bidding just to see the rest of you. I learned my lesson once. I won't make the same mistake again."

  "I'm not a tease!"

  "You keep saying that, little fox. Then you keep proving yourself a liar. You wanted me. And y
ou told only an instant ago that it had never been like this before."

  "You don't understand."

  "Then tell me," he challenged. "Help me understand why. Stop keeping secrets that stand between us."

  Lainie closed her eyes and clutched the worn, ragged cloth against her body with fingers so tightly clenched her knuckles turned white.

  "Why do men want only one thing from a woman?" she asked angrily.

  "The truth?" Slade retorted. "All I've ever asked from you is the truth. Damned if I know why you won't comply. I don't think any woman can tell the truth for longer than half a second."