In response Gregor groaned and bunched his fist tightly into her hair, releasing an exciting mixture of pleasure and pain into her system. Wanting more, she slid her leg up his thigh and hitched it onto his hip. His hand came from behind her back and went to her calf, holding her to him there tightly. Faintly, the door once more opened and closed.
“Oh, me!” a feminine voice exclaimed.
Immediately Morgana and Gregor released one another, panting. They turned from each other in horror and looked up to see two women standing inside the church’s door. One she recognized immediately as Caitlyn’s mother, Erica. Beside her stood another woman with similar features, only a decade or so older. She immediately identified them as sisters.
“Are we interrupting something?” the older woman asked, a smirk on her face.
“Nay, Aunt Alice,” Gregor responded, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “We were… just having a bit of conversation is all.”
Chapter 13
Morgana looked at him, shocked. Aunt?
“My lady,” Morgana said hastily, walking on jelly legs toward her. “Please forgive me. Of all places, the church. I beg you, I–”
Alice laughed, a sound Morgana likened to her mother’s, and she warmed to the woman immediately.
“Ye have nothin’ to apologize for, lass,” she comforted, walking up to Morgana to take her hand in both of hers. “After all ye have done to help our people, especially me niece Caitlyn, I just came here to thank ye.” The woman winked, adding “What ye dae to me nephew is yer own matter.”
Morgana was struggling to hide the deep red blush in her cheeks when they all heard an excited giggle. Turning around, they all smiled as they watched Caitlyn come running up to her mother. Erica, upon seeing her daughter healthy again, ran to her and scooped the girl up lovingly, pressing her tightly to her chest and covering her face with kisses.
“Look at ye,” she cooed, her face already tracked with tears of happiness. “By God, I’d thought I’d lost ye, me bonnie lass.” Her tears choked off her words and she held her daughter closer. Over Caitlyn’s shoulder, Erica looked up at Morgana.
“Bless ye,” she whispered. “Bless ye me lady.”
Humbled by the woman’s thankfulness, Morgana bowed her head and curtsied to her.
“I am beyond happy to be of service, my ladies. I only wish to help.”
“Erica, I had nae idea,” Gregor murmured, walking up to his family. He gave all three of the women a kiss on their forehead. When he reached Caitlyn, she wrapped her arms around his neck so that her mother had to let her go and she could straddle Gregor’s hip. Once there, to everyone’s amusement, she began to scold him.
“Uncle Gregor, where have ye been? Ye haven’t visited in sooo long! Why daenae ye bring us treats anymore?”
Morgana watched as Gregor’s ears turned a bright pink and she couldn’t hold back her laughter over such an adorable moment. Sheepishly, Gregor apologized and offered to remedy the situation immediately.
“Why don’t we let yer mum and auntie talk with Morgana while ye and I go pick out some treats for ye, yer brothers and sisters at the market, aye?”
Caitlyn quickly agreed. Gregor turned to Alice and Erica to give them his farewells, then before he left he turned to Morgana.
“As me aunt’s has said, thank ye for all ye’ve done for us.” Holding Caitlyn in one arm, he lifted Morgana’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, letting the tip of his tongue just barely graze over them.
“We will finish our discussion later,” he promised. “There’s much more we need to discuss.”
Morgana blushed deeply as she watched him leave, then turned, embarrassed to the sisters.
“Apologies,” she began to say, but the two women merely burst into giggles.
“Again,” Alice laughed, “no apologies needed, me dear. In fact, we should be thanking ye for catching his eye.”
“Aye,” Erica agreed, nodding. “He’s been so sad and angry these last few years. It’s nice to see him smiling again.”
Feeling relieved, Morgana relaxed and invited them in for a cup of tea. They accepted, and sat down at her worktable.
“How may I be of service to you ladies today?” Morgana asked, busying herself with a chamomile brew.
“Well, first, we wanted to thank ye for saving the village,” Alice explained, “but now that we have that finished, I wanted to discuss payment.”
Morgana looked up from her teapot.
“I don’t understand. Are you charging me for using the church?”
Alice laughed again, shaking her head. “Me bonnie lass, no! We’re paying ye for yer services. Not a single person died, Morgana. Not one. Do ye ken how rare that is? And it’s all because of ye. Now, Gregor and his uncle and I have been discussing it and we felt that this would be a fair price for all ye have done for us.”
Alice told her the figure, and Morgana nearly dropped her teapot. It was more than anything she had ever been offered for her services. She could buy Tily’s cottage with that sum, buy four of them even. She would never have to make medicines again if she didn’t want to, only she loved it so much. Morgana slowly shook her head.
“I can’t accept that,” she rasped, unable to find her voice.
“Ye can and ye will,” Lady Alice replied matter-of-factly. “Now, let’s talk about contracts…”
With Zeus’ head resting peacefully in her lap, Morgana stared dumbfoundedly at the bags of coin that had been brought into her house. With the illness gone and the village saved, she had no further need to stay at the church. The priest was all too happy to have the building back and she was all too happy to be away from the priest.
While Gregor had taken Erica’s children to the marketplace, Alice and Erica had helped her gather her things. Then to her surprise, they accompanied her back to her cottage where they greeted the guard Gregor had send to watch over her home and sent him on his way. She was surprised even still when Alice set about getting a fire started and water boiled while Erica started to unpack some of Morgana’s things.
As they moved about, the two ladies talked of normal things such as buying fabric for dresses and what hairstyles were now favored, as if the three of them had known each other for years. She didn’t know a thing about fashion or hair. With being on the run so often, she never bothered to care much for either.
The conversation made her feel like a fish out of water, but the two women did all they could to make her feel otherwise. By the time they were ready to leave, they had convinced her to come to the castle in two days’ time to pick out patterns and fabrics for new dresses.
Though she had enjoyed their company, she was a bit relieved when they had taken their leave. Once alone, her mind immediately went back to the kiss she had shared with Gregor that morning. Her body trembled as she remembered the heat and passion of it all, and she felt an ache begin to form inside of her.
Closing her eyes, she remembered the way his arms had wrapped around her. Large, well-muscled biceps had closed in around her, pressing her close to him so that she could feel his heartbeat pumping into her own. The embrace had made her feel hot and excited, as if she’d taken a love tonic.
Which was why when he had pulled away from her, she felt as if she’d been hit with ice. One minute he was making her melt from his touch, the next he was ice cold. She just couldn’t understand what she had done wrong.
Needing some fresh air, Morgana lit a lantern and went outside to the porch. A warm summer breeze pushed through her hair as she closed the door behind her, leaving Zeus to rest outside. The light of the full moon bounced happily off the leaves of the surrounding trees, giving off a most peaceful glow.
Barefooted, Morgana stepped off the porch and onto the grass. From corner of the house, two of her hens popped out and clucked at her in greeting. She smiled at them, and spread some kernels on the ground. Since Gregor had gifted her the chickens she had grown to love them all and had even given them names. Now they were li
ke family to her.
“A wee bit late in the night to be feeding chickens isn’t it?”
The familiar, gravelly voice came from behind Morgana, and she couldn’t help the smile that slid across her lips. Turning around, she saw Gregor leaning casually against an oak tree only a few paces away. He looked tired, but much more at ease than he had earlier.
“Thank you for sending one of your guards out to look after them,” she replied, walking toward him. “It’s nice to be home again.”
“I’m sure they missed you,” he chuckled, his lips spreading into a slow smile. “I ken our village does.”
A laugh bubbled from Morgana’s throat and she shook her head. In front of him now, she leaned her shoulder against the tree and looked up him. His eyes, full of playfulness, glittered down at her, and she felt something akin to giddiness stir inside of her.
“I’m quite certain that’s not true,” she replied. “The medicine I made them take was pretty horrid tasting stuff.”
Gregor chuckled again and leaned closer. “Aye, but it was a small price to pay for keeping their lives.”
His smile slowly faded as he studied her, and a look of sadness took its place.
“Why do ye hide out here?” he asked softly. “The village would be blessed to have ye, and not a single person I ken isnae grateful for what you’ve done.”
For a moment Morgana simply monitored all of the emotions she had coursing through her. Before he had gotten there all she could think about was his kiss. A kiss that had made her body turn to fire first with passion, then with anger. There were still answers she needed from him. Then there was the anxiety and fear of repeating history.
Talking about her past, she knew, was a great way to shorten her future. Aside from her aunt, whom she had shared her parents’ death with, she had never told her story to anyone. Because she had been so good at keeping to herself, no one really cared about it. When someone did show an interest though, it was never long before the Witch-Hunter came looking for her.
Keeping secrets had never been a problem for her until she had met Tily and the Laird of Henwen. Now all she wanted was to tell him the truth. She just couldn’t. Instead, she turned the question back on him. When she did so he gave her a baffled look.
“I don’t understand,” Gregor replied after she asked. “I’m not hiding from anything.”
Morgana’s eyebrow spiked up. “Oh really?” she asked pointedly.
After a moment Gregor understood, and smiled at her sheepishly.
“Aye. That.”
“Mhmm. That,” she responded.
Chapter 14
Gregor found it hard to focus on answering Morgana’s question. Her big, beautiful blue eyes were staring up at him in a way that made him want to press her against the tree and show her how wild a Scot could be. She was so close he could smell the rose oil in her hair, and it drove him wild. Already between his legs he could feel himself growing, and he shifted uncomfortably.
How could he respond without sounding like a fool?
He had thought of Morgana nearly every minute of every day that he was out with his men looking for and then removing the dead bear. The feel of her lips, the sigh of her pleasure, had haunted him from the moment they had kissed. But after his dream about Isabel and Ian, he had needed the space.
There was no easy way to explain himself. But he knew she at least deserved to have him try. Inside, Morgana pulled two chairs up to the fireplace and he told her everything. It was difficult at first, but just like talking to her before, the words seemed to pour out of him.
“Isabel was a wild thing,” he told her, smiling at the memory. “Even as a wee lass she would get in trouble for all kinds of mischief. The thing was, she just looked so damned innocent that even when she was caught red-handed ye dinnae want to punish her.
“When she was eleven and I was thirteen she had talked me into stealing honey from the castle pantry, and we poured it into me ma’s special hair ointment.”
Gregor laughed deeply and shook his head as he recalled it. “She was stark-ravin’ mad, me mother was. I kent she’d kill us if she caught us, but Isabel had just grabbed my hand and we took off running.”
“Did you get caught?” Morgana asked, clearly amused with the story.
“Och, me faither beat the fear of God into me and Isabel was shipped off to the convent in Briston for an entire summer.”
Morgana burst into laughter, and the very sound of her enjoyment had him laughing harder now too. He adored the way she laughed. It wasn’t often he heard it, and when he did it made him feel exhilarated somehow.
“There was no one like her,” he told her, shaking his head. “Mischievous and angelic all at the same time.”
Gregor saw pain flash through Morgana’s eyes, and he apologized.
“Please, don’t,” she replied quickly. “To have found someone you could love so much—it’s incredible, truly.” A sad smile spread across her lips. When she looked up at him her eyes were shining with tears, and he felt his heart ache.
“My…my father, he would say that about my mother,” she explained. Not able to keep eye contact, she blinked at her tears and turned her gaze toward the fire. Gregor remained silent, his breath stilled for fear of her stopping. He wanted to know as much about her as possible, and doing so was like pulling teeth.
“He would put me on his knee and tell me how ornery she used to be, just standing in taverns or the market telling people what was right and wrong. He said the moment he fell in love with her was when he walked into a tavern one night and she was screaming at the top of her lungs at some fat man.”
Gregor couldn’t suppress the raucous laughter that burst from his chest.
“What for?” He asked, trying to catch his breath.
Morgana smiled widely. “My father said my mother offered him tea and instead he tried to grab her… biscuits.”
The two of them dissolved into laughter, Gregor so amused he had to wipe a tear from his eye. He could see Morgana doing something very similar. The strong, beautiful woman didn’t take anything from anyone. Which made her a lone pillar, with no support from anyone else. He thought of his family, his aunt and uncle and nieces and nephews, and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly thankful for them. Gregor’s amusement turned to sadness as he looked over at the beautiful woman before him. The pain was now evident on her face.
“Will you tell me what happened to your family?” He asked.
It took some time, but he finally got out of her that there had been a fire. Though she wouldn’t tell him how it started, he could tell by the anger in her voice that it was no accident that set them ablaze. All he wanted to do in that moment was drag her into his lap and kiss her, but he knew it wasn’t the time. Instead, he closed the space between them and gently caressed her cheek.
It was a small gesture, but the act of kindness brought Morgana to her feet and in moments he had her in his arms, holding her as she sobbed softly into his chest.
“Easy there, love, easy,” he soothed, his hand going to her hair. From behind them Gregor heard a growl, and when he turned he found Zeus not two paces from them, ready to attack. How he had forgotten about the massive beast was beyond him, but Zeus very clearly remembered him.
“Don’t ye worry, balach,” he told him, maintaining eye contact. “She’s safe with me.”
As if he could understand, Zeus whimpered, and sat on his haunches. In his arms Morgana’s sobs had slowed down, and she pulled her face away from his chest to look at him. The moment she did he felt his heart skip a beat.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Gregor smiled back at her softly. “Anytime.”
The sadness in Morgana’s eyes seemed to be fading, and something much warmer was taking its place. Timidly she leaned up on the tips of her toes and laid a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth.
Desire coursed through him like lightning, awakening his senses and kickstarting his wild imagination. How were her lips so d
amned soft? Her body, still so close to his, was trembling. He could feel it beneath the palms of his hands that were still wrapped around her.
Is it from crying? Or something else?
Morgana, sensing his hesitation, apologized and started to pull away from him.
“Nay, lass,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “No apologies.”
With the crook of his finger he lifted her chin up and kissed her upturned lips. A soft, breathy moan escaped her lips and her arms went up around his neck. Morgana leaned once more into him, letting him take on her delicious weight so he could feel her pressed tight against his chest.
As a throaty groan escaped his lips, Gregor’s hand moved under the mass of copper curls to cup the back of her neck. He wanted her pressing even further into him, everywhere. So many moments had he imagined what she would feel like pressed so close naked. Her soft, heavy breasts heaving as their bodies rocked passionately back and forth, taking them to paradise.
Lusting for the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 10