by Nora Roberts
“I should think it would be sweet vindication. It will prove your opinion of me as weak and useless.”
He wanted to shake her. Before he realized what he was doing his hands were at her upper arms. But the moment he touched her, all the anger seemed to drain away. In its place was another, stronger emotion. One that rocked him to his very soul.
“You are the finest, bravest woman I’ve ever known. But it is your beauty that frightens me most, Alana Lamont.”
“My . . . beauty?” Confused, she could only stare at him.
“Surely you must know how beautiful you are?”
When she didn’t speak, his eyes softened, and then his voice. “Aye. How could you know, when you spend all your time caring for the needs of the others? If you took the time to peer into a looking glass, you would see the beauty I see. And it frightens me beyond all other fear. For when Rothwick’s warriors see you, they will be as dazzled by you as I am.”
“I . . . dazzle you?” She couldn’t seem to follow the direction of his words.
“So much so, that when I look at you, I can’t see anything or anyone else. Only you. Only this. This glorious tangle of hair around a face so lovely, it tears at my heart.” He twisted a fiery strand around his finger before releasing it and watching as it curled around her cheek. “And these eyes, as deep and cool and green as a Highland loch.” He touched a finger to her mouth. “And these lips. How I yearn to kiss them.”
“You . . .” She had to pause to clear her throat. “If you yearn to kiss them, why do you hold back?” She wondered that she could say a word. Her throat was so tight, she couldn’t swallow.
“I haven’t the right.” He released his hold on her and took a step back.
She reached out and clutched at his arm. “What if I were to give my consent?”
He shook his head. “I have no right, my lady.” As if to prove his point he lifted his hands, palms up. “There is blood on these hands.”
“Do you think I mind that you’re a warrior?”
“I am much more than a warrior. I have killed so many men I have lost count and have no doubt that I will kill again.”
“Royce.” Her own voice lowered. “If I had your skill, I would do the same. What you do here is noble and right.”
“It doesn’t change what I’ve become. After my years in the forest, I am more animal than human. And you . . .” He closed his eyes against the pain of the chasm looming between them. “You are the proper daughter of a great laird. And the finest person I know.”
“I am a woman, Royce.” She caught his hand between both of hers and shocked them both by lifting it to her mouth. Pressing a kiss to his palm, she stared into eyes that were narrowed on her with such intensity, she gave an involuntary shudder. “And you are a man. The man I desire above all others.”
He caught her roughly by the shoulders and held her a little away. “Have you heard nothing I’ve said? I know everything a man can learn about killing, and violence, and bloodshed. But I’ve never held a woman in my arms. I’ve never kissed a woman’s lips, or known the pleasures of a woman’s body.”
“Nor I a man, Royce. But if this be our last night before facing Rothwick’s army, I want to lie with you and warm your body with mine. I want to taste your lips and learn all the pleasures that until now I’ve only imagined.”
“Alana.” He cupped her face in his hands and stared down into her eyes with such intensity, it had her heart pounding. “My sweet, beautiful Alana. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you. And I would, for I don’t know how to be gentle. All I know is cruelty and killing. And now, because I want, more than anything, to do the noble thing, you must leave me and go inside, quickly, before the storm within me breaks and I lose all control.”
She experienced a rush of hope, of excitement, so great she could hardly contain herself. “I will not go, Royce.” She raised herself on tiptoe to press a soft kiss over his mouth. “Even if you order it, I will refuse to listen. For my heart is so filled with joy and wonder, I fear it will surely explode.”
He put his hands on her shoulders to push her away, but of their own volition his fingers curled into her flesh and he dragged her close. Her body fit so perfectly against his, as though made for him alone. All soft curves and silken skin pressed to sharp angles and planes, and rock-hard muscle and sinew, causing the most amazing rush of heat to his loins.
He wanted to do the right thing. Had fully intended to. But when her arms wrapped around his waist, and she pressed her mouth to his throat, he knew he was lost.
With passion glazing his eyes he drove her back against the rough wall that surrounded the fortress, his mouth seeking hers. “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.”
She offered her lips with a hunger that matched his. There was no fear in her now. No hesitation. Only the wild, joyous knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“I’ll ask for no promises, Royce. All I ask is this night. And you. Only you, my brave warrior . . .”
He cut off her words with a savage kiss that seemed to go on and on until they were both breathless. When at last he lifted his head, it was to run hot wet kisses over her eyes, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth.
His kiss softened as he lingered over her lips, and she realized he was drinking her in, as he might drink honeyed wine for the first time.
“I’ve long wondered how you would taste.” He kissed her again, and yet again, as though unable to get enough. “And now at last I’m free to drink your nectar.”
“You taste . . .” She smiled shyly. “Dark and dangerous.”
He held her a little away, to see her eyes. “Do I frighten you, Alana?”
“Frighten? Nay. But you intrigue me, Royce. There is so much about you I have yet to learn.”
“We’ll learn together.” He lowered his head and ran hot, nibbling kisses along her jaw, then lower to her throat, and heard her sigh of pleasure. “But for now, I just need to taste you. To hold you. To see you.” His voice deepened. “All of you.”
She lifted her hands to the fasteners of her gown and saw his eyes darken as she slipped it from her shoulders and let it drop to the grass, where it pooled at her feet.
When she reached for the ties that secured her chemise, he closed his hands over hers. “Let me, Alana.”
He drew the sheer fabric apart and slid it down her arms. His gaze moved over her, and when at last he spoke, it was with a sense of reverence. “You are so lovely, Alana. So much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”
“I never thought about the way I look. But now I want to be beautiful. For you, Royce. Only for you.”
He dragged her close and covered her mouth in a kiss so hungry, she thought he would surely devour her. She returned it with a hunger that matched his, wanting desperately to show him all the things she was feeling. As their kiss spun on and on, she felt the ground shift and move, and wondered that they were still standing.
She needed to see him as he was seeing her. To feel the warmth of his skin on hers. She tugged the fur tunic free, before running her hands across his chest, then lower, to the flat planes of his stomach.
With a sigh of impatience he tore aside the last of his clothes and dragged her to the ground. Now, at last, they were flesh to flesh, heartbeat to frantic heartbeat.
As they lay in the grass and moved together, mouths mating, sighs whispering on the night air, their flesh heated and grew slick with sweat. Their heartbeats thundered with all the force of an approaching army.
Alana could feel the need vibrating through him as he struggled to hold himself back.
“Take me, Royce.”
Still he held back, and she knew he feared hurting her.
Wrapping herself around him, she arched her body and drew him in. For a moment he went perfectly still. Then, knowing he’d reached the end of his control, he gave in and began to move with her, to climb with her.
He plunged his hands into the fiery tangles and drew he
r head back, staring deeply into her eyes. What he saw there speared straight to his heart.
“You’re mine, Alana. My woman.”
“Aye. And you’re my man. I believe we were born for one another. And for this. Only this.”
With his eyes steady on hers they climbed together to the very top of a high, sheer cliff. For the space of a heartbeat they stood poised on the edge.
It seemed, in that instant, that the heavens opened up, sending lightning bolts streaking across the sky, and thunder rumbling with such force, the earth shook.
With hearts pounding, lungs straining, they stepped into the very center of the storm and were tossed into the maelstrom.
Chapter 7
ALANA lay perfectly still, listening to the soft, steady beat of Royce’s heart. Here in the circle of his arms she wondered at the fact that, despite what was to come, she had never felt safer. With this man she had found her purpose for living. And if she must face death this day, at least she’d had this one night of perfect love.
Their lovemaking had been both tender and fierce. At times they had whispered together like long-lost lovers and had taken each other with soft, gentle sighs and muted laughter. At others, the need had come upon them with such force, all they could do was cling together and ride out the storm that left them shaken and sated.
She looked up to find him watching her in that quiet, intense way that never failed to touch her heart.
She lay a hand on his cheek. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I resisted sleep, if it would rob me of even one moment of watching you.” He caught her hand and pressed it to his mouth. “My beautiful, precious Alana. I love you so. It tears my heart out to think about your fate.”
“You mustn’t think of it.” She sat up and leaned over him, sending her hair swirling around his chest.
She saw his eyes narrow on her, the pupils darkening as she lowered her mouth to his. “Kiss me now, and take me quickly, before the day is upon us.”
As they gave themselves up to the passion, the nearby forest came alive with a chorus of birds. The earth was sweet with the scent of clover and thistle. But the man and woman were aware of nothing except the pleasure they brought, each to the other, as they slid away to that secret world known only to lovers.
ALANA slipped into her chemise and gown and ran her fingers through the tangles of her hair. “I must hurry to the refectory. Brin will need my help preparing to break the fast.” She turned to Royce with a knowing smile. “I’ll bring your food out here, along with some hot mulled wine.”
“I need no wine, my lady.” He drew her close for a long, lingering kiss. “Not after a night of tasting your lips.”
They looked up at the sound of someone struggling over the wall.
Shoving Alana behind him, Royce withdrew his sword. When Ingram dropped to the ground, the two stared at him in surprise.
“All Hallows Eve may be upon us, but the danger is not until tonight, lad. Why did you leave your post?”
“A lone rider heads this way, bearing Laird Rothwick’s crest.”
“A lone rider?” Royce’s eyes narrowed. “And what of the rest of his army?”
“They follow at a distance.”
“For what purpose, I wonder.” Royce nodded toward the fortress. “Take the lady inside and report what you saw to the laird.”
As he began to scale the wall Alana called out, “Where do you go?”
“To see if Rothwick’s army draws near. Perhaps it is a ploy so that we’ll let down our guard.”
A short time later Royce shouted a warning, and Malcolm Lamont and his man-at-arms, Lochaber, stepped out of the fortress, followed by the women and children.
Royce stood atop the wall. “Rothwick’s rider is at the gate.”
At an order from the laird, Jeremy and Dudley opened the gate to permit the horseman to enter.
Royce remained on the wall, staring into the distance, while watching and listening to the exchange between the laird and Rothwick’s warrior.
The rider swung from his steed and handed the old man a rolled parchment. “My Laird Rothwick decrees that all surviving Highland lairds are to journey to his fortress before nightfall, and there they shall swear fealty to the new laird of lairds.”
The old man glanced toward Royce, then returned his attention to the warrior. “If I refuse?”
“You will no longer be laird of your clan. Your fortress will be sacked and burned, and all within will be killed or taken prisoner.”
“And how do I know that won’t happen when I leave my people without my leadership?”
“You have the word of my Laird Reginald Rothwick. His army will remain where they are unless you refuse the laird’s offer. Then they will be given orders to advance and attack.”
Malcolm Lamont lowered his head before saying, “I must confer with my people, for my decision will affect all of their lives.”
The warrior glanced toward the fortress, as though assessing how many others might be within its walls. He gave a reluctant nod of his head. “Do it quickly. There is little time to waste. We must be safe within Laird Rothwick’s fortress before darkness falls.”
Laird Lamont beckoned for Royce and the others to follow.
Once inside, the door barred to intruders, his manner turned grave. “I regret that I must fail you. You’ve worked so hard to prepare for battle. But it is as the Dark Angel said. Our enemy is taking advantage of All Hallows Eve to do his dirty work. Not even the bravest Highland warrior would risk the walking dead to fight against this edict.”
Alana’s voice reflected the shock and horror they were all feeling. “You would actually swear fealty to that villain, Father?”
“Nay. But if my journey to his fortress will buy time for those I love, how can I refuse?”
Alana turned to Royce. “Convince my father that what he intends is not only foolish, but evil. We must stand together to fight this monster.”
Royce saw the way they were all watching him. He touched a hand to Alana’s shoulder. “It is the measure of your father’s love for you”—he allowed his gaze to linger on each of the others—“for all of you . . . that he hopes to hold back the slaughter.” He turned to Laird Lamont. “But yours is an idle dream. Once Rothwick has you in his fortress, he will not give up until all have sworn fealty or are dead. Either way, there will be nothing left to stop him from destroying all who stand in his way.”
“Perhaps once he has what he wants, he will stop the killing, and the land and people can once more return to peace and begin to prosper.”
Royce gave a sad shake of his head. “I understand your need to cling to hope. But Rothwick cares not for peace or the prosperity of the people. The man is pure evil. He covets power and will do whatever it takes to have it.”
“How can you say this with such certainty?” the old man asked.
Royce lowered his head, but not before Alana saw the pain in his eyes.
When at last he lifted his head, his voice was low with anguish. “Even after all these years, I find it difficult to speak of the past, but it is time. I am Royce, of the clan MacLish.”
There was an audible gasp throughout the room.
“On the day of anguish that all Highlanders remember, I witnessed the murder of my young friends, my father’s most trusted warriors, and my brother, Fitzroy. Rothwick himself boasted of killing my father and mother.”
“But we heard that all were murdered that day.” The old laird was staring at this young man with a look of shock. “How is it possible that you survived?”
Royce shook his head. “I know not. While two of Rothwick’s warriors held me, he thrust his lance deep into my chest. I lay in cold and darkness for hours, or perhaps days, before I realized that I was not dead. A family fleeing Rothwick’s army found me and removed the lance from my body, but they were too fearful to remain in that place, and so they put me in their cart with their possessions and carried me along with them on their trek to escap
e. When I learned that they planned to leave the Highlands, I begged to be left behind. And so they left me in the cover of the forest, and I will be forever grateful to them for saving my life.” He lifted his head, his voice growing stronger. “I have always known why my life was spared. It is my destiny to end this madness.”
Laird Lamont’s eyes narrowed. “How? What can one man do?”
“I will accompany you to Rothwick’s fortress as your man-at-arms. Once there, I will find a way to confront Rothwick.”
“You will be outnumbered hundreds to one.”
“Aye.” Royce touched a hand to the small, sharp dirk tucked into his waist. “I did not say I would leave his fortress alive. Only that I would end the madness. Since that day of deceit, my life has mattered not to me. But I made a vow to my father and mother, and to my brother Fitzroy, that I would see Rothwick dead and my beloved Highlands free of tyranny.”
An eerie silence settled over the people as they realized the enormity of his plan.
Tears filled Alana’s eyes. “Please, Royce, I beg you to consider. There must be another way besides facing certain death.” She turned to her father. “I can’t bear to lose both of you, for you must know that you’ll not survive such a bold attack.”
The old man arched a brow, but before he could say a word, Royce caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Can you not see that for those who love you, it is not death we fear, but rather the hideous fate that will befall you and the others if the plan should fail? For that reason, you must not remain here. As soon as All Hallows Eve is past, and it is safe to journey once more, you and the others must flee to the Lowlands.”
“Run, like cowards?”
“Nay, love. Run, because it is your only hope of living for another day. It will give your father and me great comfort to know that those we love are safely free of Rothwick’s clutches.”