Was this lust? she wondered, staring at the closed wound on her wrist with utter fascination. Since the only time she had known a man intimately was when Callum had brutally assaulted her, Alice could not be sure. She had not even kissed a man before that horrible night. In truth, she had never kissed a man before Gybbon. Callum had not bothered with kisses. Whatever it was that she had felt, she knew it was no threat to her despite the alarm that rippled through her. Behind all the strange feelings that had just afflicted her was one she had recognized. Need.
She looked down at Gybbon and sighed. Instinct told her that need could only be fed by Gybbon MacNachton, and not with the blood that dark hunger in her sometimes demanded. If that was true, and what she had just felt was lust, she might be wise to rethink her decision to cast aside the fear Callum had scarred her with and take Gybbon as her lover. Alice was absolutely sure that Gybbon would never hurt her in body, but she could not be sure that he would never shred her heart.
Chapter Seven
A sweet-scented warmth was the first thing Gybbon was aware of as he woke up. He glanced down to discover Alice curled up beside him, one slender arm draped over his belly. Then his memories rushed into his mind and he tensed. It took him a moment to calm himself, for his sleep-dulled mind to fully grasp that memories were not a threat. Not an immediate one, at least, he thought as he stroked one hand down Alice’s long, thick hair.
Peering around, he realized she had gotten him to the shelter, although he recalled nothing of the journey after she had covered him with the blanket. Gybbon was embarrassed by the weakness that had taken him down, by his inability to save himself, but he was also proud of Alice’s courage and strength. She was his; she just did not know it yet. It would require some hard wooing but he was more than willing to work for his prize.
In the midst of an idle, pleasant dream of the future with Alice as his mate, Gybbon finally became aware of how good he felt. Too good for a man who had suffered the wounds he had and then spent too long in the sun. He should still have a few aches to deal with, yet he felt as if he could easily chase a buck to ground for their next meal.
He carefully lifted Alice’s small hand from his chest and stared at her wrist. The marks were faint, nearly fully healed, but he recognized them easily. Alice had fed him. Gybbon suddenly feared he had fed too long, left her weak, but a quick, thorough look at her eased his fear. There was color in her cheeks, her breathing was deep and even, and beneath his fingers, the pulse in her wrist was steady and strong. The food and the blood she had taken in over the last few days had done their work. Alice was not only stronger, she was strong enough to give him what he needed to heal and suffer no weakness for it.
Shifting just a little to free the arm Alice was sleeping on, Gybbon trailed his fingers up and down her spine. He touched his nose to her hair and breathed deeply of her clean scent. Then he frowned and, lifting his head slightly, took another deep breath. He grinned, experienced enough to easily recognize that faint scent in the air. It was arousal. He knew exactly what had stirred Alice’s lust as well. Allowing him to feed from her had obviously stirred her desires.
Gybbon idly ran his tongue over his lips. He could still taste her sweetness there, feel the bright glory of her blood inside him. The taste of her still lingering in his mouth was a heady one, and one he was eager to taste again.
He lightly stroked her soft cheek with his fingers. Thus far frustration was his only reward for the desire he felt for Alice, but he hoped the fact that she had let him feed from her indicated that she was finally breaking the chains of fear. When there was an attraction between a man and a woman, a sharing of blood became an extremely intimate act. The arousal that had stirred in Alice, one that still lightly perfumed the air with its tantalizing promise, should have terrified Alice. Yet here she was, curled up against him.
Gently tilting her face up to his, Gybbon brushed his lips over hers. He felt a twinge of conscience over his plan to seduce her, to use what lusty feelings the feeding had stirred within her to his advantage, but he ignored it. For Alice to completely conquer her fear about all that could happen between a man and a woman, she needed to be shown that it could be pleasurable. She needed to see that lovemaking was not painful, that violence had nothing to do with it. She needed to be shown tenderness and passion so that she could finally begin to heal from the scars of the violence she had suffered at Callum’s cruel hands. Gybbon was certain that once he and Alice had made love, she would lose the fear that ate at her. He was not arrogant or fool enough to think that all her ghosts would disappear, but he felt certain that most of them would.
Pulling her on top of him, he kissed her awake. The way she quickly roused from her sleep to return his kiss made his body rapidly harden with need. She wore only her thin linen shift, but he ached to tear it from her body. He wanted to be skin to skin with her so badly he could feel a growl of demand gathering in his throat. Weaving his fingers into her thick hair, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, craving the taste of her.
Alice gasped when Gybbon ceased kissing her and gently scraped his teeth along the side of her throat where her pulse throbbed. She was sprawled on top of his large, naked body in a wanton manner but felt no inclination to move. Her blood ran hot and all the aching need she had thought sleep had conquered now rushed back so swiftly she felt dazed by it. His manhood rose big and hard between her thighs but it stirred no fear inside her.
“I see ye are healed and strong again,” she said, shivering with delight as his lightly calloused hands stroked the back of her thighs.
“Aye.” Gybbon was not surprised when his answer sounded more like a groan than a word, for Alice was rubbing herself against his aching manhood. “I can still taste ye on my tongue. Your blood now races alongside mine.”
It surprised Alice that she could be so aroused by those words. She had done what she needed to survive over the years, but the dark hunger for blood she had been cursed with had always appalled her. Instead of disgust and shame, she found herself wanting to feel what he did, wanting to taste his blood and make it part of hers. The mere thought of that brought her fangs out. When she lightly nipped his shoulder, letting him feel the sharpness of them, his growl held such hungry pleasure she felt her womb clench with demand.
“Take your shift off, lass,” he ordered. “I need to feel your flesh against mine.”
Without hesitation, Alice sat up straddling him and yanked off her shift. He ran his hands up her rib cage and covered her breasts. When he teased her hardened nipples with his thumbs, she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his. He suddenly wrapped one strong arm around her, pulled her down closer to him, and then took the aching tip of her breast deep into his mouth. Alice cried out from the strength of the pleasure that seared through her body.
Through the haze of desire that was clouding her mind a demand made itself known. Alice realized she was wet and rubbing herself against his warm, hard length. There was an aching hollowness inside her that cried to be filled. It shocked her to admit it but she knew exactly what her body wanted. Her own body’s needs were strangling her blind fear of that part of Gybbon, and she knew she had to take that final step now.
“Inside,” she gasped. “Get inside.” She started to move off him to lie on her back but he held her in place.
“This way, love,” Gybbon said. “Ye ride me.”
“I dinnae understand.”
“Put me inside ye, lass.”
Gybbon struggled for some control over the fierce desire gripping him. He was so desperate to be inside her that even the way she fumbled as she tried to unite their bodies excited him beyond words simply because her hand was wrapped around his shaft. After only a moment, however, he moved to show her what she needed to do, placing his hand over hers to help her aim him in the right direction. The moment he began to ease inside her, he yanked her hand away and pushed deep inside. He knew he should go slowly but the way her tight heat wrapped around him seared away the last o
f his control. A small part of him was aware of how she began to move on him, revealing the same greed infecting him, and he gave himself over to the passion ruling them both.
Alice’s release came quickly. Gybbon felt her body clench around him as she cried out his name in an alluring mixture of delight and surprise. Then she fell against him and he growled with pleasure as she sank her teeth into his chest.
Gybbon looked down at her feeding from him and shuddered from the force of the ecstasy pouring through his body. His dark hunger grew and his fangs ached for the taste of her. Since he could not reach her neck and did not want to stop her, he grabbed her arm and brought her wrist to his mouth, sinking his fangs into her soft flesh. As the taste of her entered his mouth, she shook with another release, her heat constricting around him. He held her writhing hips steady and thrust deep inside her, once, before joining her in rapture’s fall.
Alice blinked as she realized she was still sprawled on top of Gybbon, her cheek pressed against his broad chest. As her mind cleared a little more and she recalled all that had just happened, she did not know whether to be embarrassed or to spring up and do a dance of joy. She started to lift her head and her gaze fell on his chest, upon the mark she recognized all too well even though it was already faint and growing fainter. All her joy over conquering her fear, over finding out what pleasure could be found in a man’s arms, faded away so quickly she felt chilled.
“I bit ye,” she whispered in shock as she slowly sat up. “I fed from ye.”
“Aye, that ye did.” Gybbon idly wondered when she would recall that she was as naked as he was as he savored the sight of her soft skin and full breasts. He hoped it would not be too soon. “I bit ye, too.”
Alice frowned at him. “Why do ye sound so pleased by that?”
“Because I am.” He lightly trailed his fingers over her taut stomach, enjoying the way her skin flushed beneath his touch, and thinking that even her belly hole was beautiful. He almost laughed at how besotted he was. “Lass, we may nay be Purebloods, but we are MacNachtons.”
“But I didnae need to feed. I am nay wounded. I—” She ceased talking when he pressed a finger to her lips.
“E’en people who arenae of our ilk give each other wee love bites whilst in the throes of passion. Alice, for a MacNachton who still feels the dark hunger of what we just did, the sharing of our blood only adds to the pleasure to be found in lovemaking. It can make it richer, wilder, fiercer. Aye?”
She blushed. “Aye. I think it will take me a wee while to shake free of fearing all that has made me different.”
When she felt his hand enclose her breast, she sighed with pleasure until she realized that they were both still naked. With a squeak of embarrassment, she tried to scramble off him and get her clothes, only to find herself on her back with a grinning Gybbon crouched over her. She could not stop herself from looking at him, at his big strong body. He was all lean muscles and smooth skin. Her hands itched to touch him.
“We have at least another hour ere the sun sets, Alice Boyd,” he said and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Ye want to do that again?” Even as she asked that question she felt him grow hard against her.
“Shall we try it this way? Do ye think ye are ready for that?”
“Do ye think I grew afraid because of ye being on top of me? It cannae be that simple, can it?”
“Nay, but once passion clouded your wits, I think it became that way.” Gybbon brushed his lips over hers. “The moment ye feel that old fear nudging at ye, give me a wee push and I will turn us around.”
The sun had fully set by the time Alice opened her eyes again. She blinked a few times before she could see clearly and then studied the man snoring softly with his head pillowed on her breasts. He was so handsome it made her heart ache. So, too, did the knowledge that he was not for her. Gybbon MacNachton was too fine for a shepherd’s daughter. Her mother had been from a better-bred, more prosperous family, but that mattered little to people. All the finer things her mother had brought to the family were gone, anyway. There was no land or coin or even linen Alice could bring to a marriage, even if Gybbon had any inclination to offer her such a thing. All she had to offer was her heart, and a man like Gybbon MacNachton looked for more than that when he sought out a wife.
She pushed away those thoughts, for they made her eyes sting with tears she knew she could not shed. Instead she thought on the passion she and Gybbon had shared, and would share again if only for a little while. No matter what else happened between her and Gybbon, Alice knew she would always be grateful for the healing he had brought her. She knew he had not slain all her dragons, but he had cut the chains fear had wrapped around her.
When the man she had thought was asleep suddenly pushed himself up onto his forearms and gave her a quick hard kiss, she heard herself squeak in surprise. “I thought ye were asleep.”
“I was,” he said as he forced himself to leave her arms and reached for his clothes. “But I fear we cannae rest and enjoy each other any longer. I think ’tis also time we make straight for Cambrun.”
Alice hurriedly dressed, regretting the abrupt end to her time in his arms but knowing it was necessary. “There are only two Hunters left. I didnae kill those other two men but I cannae see them continuing on with the wounds I gave them. Dinnae ye think Callum will give up now?” As she laced up her gown she turned to look at him and could tell by the expression on his face that she was not going to like his answer.
“The wounded men may weel give up but I am nay sure Callum will e’er stop.” He pulled her into his arms and lightly kissed her frowning mouth. “I think ’tis more than some crusade to rid the land of perceived demons that keeps that mon on your trail, sweet Alice.”
“He wants me and Donn dead, aye? We are living proof of what he sees as his sin and his shame.”
Gybbon nodded as he rolled up the blankets. “In his mind, ’tis all your fault that he fell from grace and ye must pay. What troubles me most is that he spoke of capturing ye and taking ye back to the mon who sent these Hunters out. I wish I had had the chance to kill him for that thought alone.”
“I would still be alive, though.”
“Ye would soon wish that ye were dead.” He put his arm around her shoulder when she paled a little at the hard fury in his voice. “Trust me in that, loving. My cousins Heming and Tearlach suffered mightily when they were held captive. Naked, caged, and chained, they were beaten, cut, and bled. Our enemies search for our weaknesses. The ones who held my cousins had a plan that, if they shared it with others, could cause the MacNachtons far more trouble than they have now.”
“What could be worse than being treated as if we are evil demons, like we are naught but beasts?”
“They decided that the secret to the MacNachtons’ strength and long lives is in their blood.” He nodded when she paled again. “Aye. Just before Heming was freed, his rescuers heard his captors talk of making a potion from his blood and, if it made them stronger, to keep him alive so that they could keep dosing themselves.”
“And they think we are evil?”
Gybbon almost grinned at her use of the word “we.” She was already thinking of herself as a MacNachton. It would make settling her at Cambrun a lot easier. He glanced at the mark on her neck, one she had not noticed yet, and felt his chest swell with pride and possession. She was his and that mark would let every MacNachton male know it. When they had the time, were no longer eluding an enemy, he would let her know it, too.
Chapter Eight
“Cowards!”
Callum stood staring at the empty campsite, his hands clenched into fists at his side. His men had deserted him. That would not make him turn back, he swore. He could not. He had to clean away the sin on his soul. As long as Alice Boyd and her bastard lived, his weakness and his shame were there for anyone to see. He could never redeem himself as long as she and her son drew breath.
He looked at the place where the MacNachton beast had been tethered, a
t the remains of the ropes that had held the man in place. He should have killed the demon the moment he had brought him down. Callum cursed and kicked at the dirt. Now he was one against two, but he would not run with his tail tucked between his legs like the others had.
There was no going home for him until Alice Boyd and her bastard child were dead. He could not allow that proof of his weakness, of his succumbing to temptation and breeding evil, to walk around. The stain on his honor, on his soul, had to be cleansed with the blood of the ones who had put it there.
“I will see her dead,” he vowed. “And then I will search for that bastard she bred and see it in the ground. On this I swear.”
Alice cautiously eased away from a sleeping Gybbon’s warm body and ignored the immediate chill of loss that swept over her. She was getting far too accustomed to the feel of him at her side, of sleeping wrapped in his arms. Worse, she was becoming too bewitched by the pleasure she could find there. Alice hated to think of how much it was going to hurt when he left her, when their love affair ended as such things too often did. She just hoped she had the strength and dignity not to make a fool of herself when his ardor began to cool and he looked elsewhere for his pleasure.
She sat up and looked around her, then grimaced. They slept surrounded by the dead. She was not one given to fears about ghosts but she reluctantly admitted to herself that bedding down in a crypt caused her a shiver or two. It had actually taken Gybbon a moment or two to kiss and caress away her unease and turn her full attention to the passion that burned so hot between them. Now looking at the stone coffins and effigies carved on the lids made her feel embarrassed. It seemed disrespectful to make love in such a place. She also prayed that there really were no such things as ghosts or they would have gotten an eyeful during the hours she and Gybbon had sheltered here.
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