Highland Temptation (Highland Pride)

by Lori Ann Bailey

  As she read, he fantasized about laying her back and making love to her slowly and then falling asleep with her nestled in his arms, her soft curls splayed across his chest. It was an indulgence he couldn’t afford.

  The reading ended too soon. “What did ye think?”

  “Not too bad, but ’twill need to hear more. I dinnae want to rush to a conclusion.”

  She stood, set the book down, then ran her fingers over the binding as if it were a treasured artifact. “Another time. I’m tired.”

  Her hips swayed as she walked across the room and stopped in front of another small table. “Ye must be happy Skye is back,” she called over her shoulder.

  Smiling at the mention of his cousin, he relaxed and leaned back onto the soft bed, resting on his elbows. She turned to him and stretched her neck from side to side.

  “Aye, ’tis good. I’m still no’ convinced that at some point I willnae have to take off Brodie’s head.”

  Kirstie unpinned her hair and ran her fingers into her scalp to massage where it had been pulled back. Mesmerized, his gaze lingered as she dropped the pins on the table and waves of deep chestnut curls cascaded down to brush her cheeks. He was tempted to reach out and run his own hands through the thick mass, but she seemed oblivious to her effect on him.

  He tore his gaze away before he acted on the impulse, because that would surely drive him mad or cause him to lose control.

  “’Tis time I get back.” He stood and took a step toward the door.

  Turning back, his breath caught, gaze landing on her dress as the lavender silk slid down her shoulders before she shimmied her hips to guide it over her waist and then off entirely. He groaned internally as his cock came to life. She was going to drive him mad. She wore an undergarment, but the material was thin, and it didn’t cover much. Mouth watering, he had to swallow.

  “What are ye doing?”

  “Going to bed.”

  She flung her dress over a chair, slipped out of her shoes, then leaned down to wrestle her stockings free. His mouth went dry. As she leaned down, her shift bunched in the front and gave an enticing glimpse of the tops of her well-proportioned breasts.

  “Ye shouldnae be doing that with me in here.” He tilted his head to the ceiling, but his treacherous eyes lowered back to take in whatever they could. His heart pounded as he tried to fight the urge to touch every inch of her.

  “Why, seems if any man had to be in here, ’tis perfect, ’tis ye.”

  “What gives ye that idea?”

  She narrowed her eyes on him and swayed slightly. “Ye are the only one who isanae trying to get in here to see me undress.”

  So she wasn’t completely unaware of her charms. She had at least four men that he knew of vying for her attention, and the thought of them seeing her like this angered him. None of them were worthy. Hell, he wasn’t.

  She moved past him to draw back the covers and slide under them.

  When she looked back up at him, there was a sadness that had not been there before. Her shoulders were pulled in, and she looked smaller. “What’s wrong with me?”

  What was she talking about? “There isnae a thing wrong with ye.”

  “Then why do ye no’ want me?”

  Her assumption nearly broke his heart, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. It wasn’t her; she was perfect. She was everything he knew he could never have; she was Kirstie, the girl who had haunted his dreams for years.

  He knelt down beside the bed to be at her eye level. “It isnae ye, kitten. Ye couldnae be more right.” He couldn’t resist pushing back the silky curl that had fallen over her cheek.

  “If ye think ye are protecting me, ye are wrong.” She burrowed into the bed, and her head tilted into the hand that had lingered at her temple. “The me without ye is more vulnerable than the me with ye by my side.”

  They were sweet words, but she didn’t know what she was saying in her defenseless, drunken state. She didn’t know why she was better without him.

  He picked up several curls that were draped across her neck and brought them to his nose. She smelled of fresh air after a storm. He wanted to soak in the scent of her so he would never forget.

  If he weren’t so tainted, maybe he could ask Lachlan for permission to marry her, but he had felt the rage inside, had even felt it tonight as he’d seen her dance with Hamish. He was like his father, and she wasn’t safe around him.

  He started to reply but her eyes were closed. He gently placed her hair on the pillow and got up to walk out. He cursed when he looked at the door. If he left, he couldn’t bolt it. He returned to the bed.

  “Kirstie.” No answer. He tried again, softly shaking her shoulder. “Kirstie.” She still didn’t wake.

  Pulling the chair to the side of the bed so he could watch her, he settled in. It wasn’t long before Blair showed, but in that time, he had come to a conclusion. He had to keep his distance, because everything about Kirstie tempted him. He was too close to giving in to the urge he had to hold her and never let her go. But it was a selfishness he couldn’t afford. That’s how his mother had died.

  Chapter Five

  Waking to an odd pressure, Kirstie turned to see Blair laying on her unbraided hair. Confusion set in, and her head started to pound before she remembered Alan had walked her back, but she didn’t remember him leaving. Och, maybe the pain in her temples was from the drink and not her friend.

  “Blair.” Kirstie pushed at her shoulder.

  “What?”

  “Ye are on my hair.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned and lifted long enough for Kirstie to pull free before she fell back to the bed.

  She ignored the fogginess and pushed through. “How was yer walk with Henry?”

  “Ugh, let me sleep.” Her friend rolled over, giving her a nice view of the lass’s blonde hair and backside.

  “Damn, Blair, wake up. I’m dying to ken what happened.” Rolling over to face her, Blair sighed. A sly teasing smile appeared, and her eyes lit even through their sleepy haze.

  “He kissed me.”

  “Well, how was it?” Forgetting her aches, a flush of excitement had her cheeks lifting with the corners of her lips. She was happy for her friend, even if she had reservations about Henry, who acted like a pompous arse.

  “Pleasant.” Blair sat up and stretched.

  “Well, will ye marry him?” She stepped over to the wardrobe and pulled out a dark green gown Blair had insisted she bring. The color did look good on her, but it made her long for the greens of the open fields she would not be seeing anywhere near this blasted castle.

  “He hasnae asked yet.” When she glanced over her shoulder, Blair’s full lips pouted back at her.

  “Do ye think he will?”

  Her friend stood, finally looking awake, and rushed over to retrieve a dress, a sage color that complimented her pale skin and light eyes. “I dinnae ken. We were only able to steal a moment alone, and we didnae have time to discuss it. John says Father willnae approve, but John does.”

  Although Kirstie lived on Macnab land, she hardly saw the Macnab laird and never discussed politics with him. Thinking on why The Macnab might not approve, she remembered that although Blair’s brother John held the belief that the people of Scotland should be able to choose whatever religion they wanted, her father was a staunch Covenanter. “’Tis because he is Montrose’s cousin and a firm Royalist?”

  She almost asked the other question on her mind. ’Tis because he is so arrogant?

  “Aye.”

  “Will Montrose be here for the meeting?” She pulled the dark gown over her head just as Blair did the same with the sage one.

  “Nae. John says Montrose and Argyll cannae stand to be in the same room together.” Blair went to work fastening the matching ribbons.

  “Henry will marry ye, and then what am I to do?” Of course Henry wanted Blair on his arm. Every man wanted the petite blonde lass. “I’ll be all alone, and what if yer father decides I cannae stay and have to go
back to Kentillie?” Her voice sounded sad, but buried deep, she could feel excitement bubbling up at the possibility of going home. She turned so that her friend could help her with her own ribbons and to hide the little thrill that might show on her face.

  “Ye should. Alan was watching ye when I came into the room last night.”

  “I am no more than an obligation to him. I undressed in front of him last night, and he didnae say a word or look the slight bit interested.”

  “Ye dinnae see it, but I swear that man is as crazy about ye as ye have been over him. Ye just have to find out why he is holding back.” Blair grabbed the brush from the little table and ran it through her hair.

  “I ken what it is. He sees me as a sister. I cannae go back, because at least in the Macnab stables I feel important.”

  “Nae, that isnae brotherly concern I see in his eyes.”

  “What do ye think I should do? If he doesnae want me, I’ll stay on yer father’s lands or find a husband who will let me take care of his horses.” She contemplated a million other things that would be better for her than Alan Mackenzie.

  “Ye should make him jealous. Then ye’ll believe me.”

  “How am I going to do that?” After running the brush through her hair, she set it back on the table.

  “I think ye already are, and ye will not have to worry about it if ye keep cavorting with those Covenanters.”

  “Ye ken what I’m doing.”

  “Aye, but Alan doesnae,” Blair protested.

  Well, he had an idea after catching her in Argyll’s room last night. “And he doesnnae need to ken it or he’ll tell Malcolm.”

  “Tonight, wear the blue dress. That will get his attention.”

  “I cannae wear that. I told ye ’twas too tight in my chest.”

  “’Tis perfect.” A devilish grin teased at Blair’s lips.

  “I can barely breathe, and ’tis indecent.” Stepping back over to the wardrobe, she pulled open the doors and ran her fingers down the silky blue material.

  “Do ye want his attention?”

  “Aye, but—”

  “Do ye want the others to confide in ye?” Well, it was important she gain the confidences of whoever may be out to get to her family.

  She swallowed, knowing the argument was lost.

  “Then ye must wear the dress.”

  Tightening her lips together, she pouted, knowing she couldn’t deny the dress would bring a lot of attention her way.

  Blair smiled. “Let’s go eat. I’m famished.”

  …

  After breaking their fast, with Finlay as their guide, Kirstie and Blair strolled the streets of Edinburgh, taking in the early morning sun. The bustling city was pinned in by walls built many years ago to protect the residents from English invasion. The stone barriers, green with moss where they remained shaded, hadn’t been successful and now seemed more for controlling goods traversing into and out of the city than any threats of invasion.

  Marveling at the tall buildings that sometimes eclipsed the height of Kentillie, the Cameron castle and stronghold, she imagined the claustrophobic feeling of being stuck on one of the higher floors of the structures. The homes were so close together that some of them were even touching, leaving room for windows only on the fronts and backs of the facades. Although her breath refused to fill her lungs as merchants and the townspeople crowded and hurried around, it was still better than the stifling environment of the castle.

  Malcolm had been busy and could not accompany them but had reluctantly relented and let them go as long as Finlay came along. She agreed, determined she was not going to spend all day stuck in that fortress on the hill, especially now that the other guests were arriving.

  “Is that Alan?” Blair cut into her thoughts.

  “Where?” Squinting, she followed her friend’s gaze.

  “Just outside that tavern.”

  It was Alan. He was putting something in some wench’s hands. Too far away to see what it was, she concluded it was probably something innocent, but there was no mistaking the woman’s hand going to Alan’s shoulder. It lingered there, and then her finger trailed down his arm slowly in a seductive way.

  Kirstie’s heart stopped, or at least it felt as if it had. A strange dizziness, or was it numbness, washed over her as her breaths came too fast. She made sure the head covering she had worn today was in place, then she strolled a little too fast farther down the street. She couldn’t let him see how she had been affected by the thought of him with another woman.

  Blair continued to stare at Alan while Finlay struggled with whom to keep an eye on, finally muttering something to her friend Kirstie couldn’t hear. Blair stood her ground when their chaperone kept his watchful gaze on everything as he moved to her side. Their chaperone kept his watchful gaze on everything as he moved.

  Finlay, who had been silently brooding the entire walk, chose now to speak up. “I’m sure ’tis no’ what it seems.”

  Damn, she’d given too much away and now the man knew how she was affected by her brother’s best friend. She studied a port in the town wall, anything to seem uninterested, but her reaction had told the truth.

  Finlay, suddenly talkative, continued, “Alan has never paid for a woman.”

  Oh, that makes me feel so much better.

  Meeting his eyes, she asked, “Does everyone ken?” She would have blushed if her face wasn’t already flushed with anger and a renewed sense of determination that she would not let Alan back into her heart.

  “Nae, I just ken what it looks like to want something ye cannae have.” His gaze drifted longingly to Blair, who was still watching Alan with her hands on her hips and tapping her foot. Kirstie looked back to Finlay.

  “Why does he no’ want me?” She wanted to cry, but she wasn’t going to let Finlay see her shed tears over that horse’s ass.

  “I dinnae ken why some people dinnae see what’s right in front of them.”

  Kirstie wasn’t sure if he was talking about Alan or Blair. It was really a shame Blair was infatuated with Henry, because Finlay was a good man and he obviously cared for her. If they married and she went back to Kentillie, she wouldn’t lose her friend. But she would have to be near Alan, and she would lose her position in the stables, again being reduced to a nuisance, decimating what sense of self-worth she’d accumulated during her time with the Macnabs.

  “He didnae look at her as anything other than a woman selling bread in the market.”

  Kirstie cringed at what was supposed to be a reassuring comment. “Let’s move on. I dinnae want him to see us.” She started walking without them.

  The clouds darkened as they crested the top of the hill, and the sky opened up. By the time they got to the castle, she was wet, cold, and ready to escape to a quiet corner to lament over Alan and attempt to come up with a plan to save her brothers and find a suitable husband.

  Hamish was at the door to meet her when they walked in. He wore a pale yellow jacket that stood out against the gray stones of the castle. He was dry, while she must look like a drowned rat. Her hair clung to her face, but despite the chill, she had welcomed the rain. It had cleansed the courtyard of the scores of people.

  “I was worried you left without telling me. I couldn’t find Blair or John either.” He took her cool hand, the warmth of his instantly reminding her of the stifling nature of the castle, and she regretted pushing to get back so quickly after seeing Alan.

  “I wouldnae leave without saying goodbye. I think I will stay as long as Malcolm does. I dinnae see him enough.”

  “Yes, that’s right, your brother. Now how is it that he and Alan Mackenzie are no longer friends? I thought all of you were raised together.”

  “I cannae tell ye what happened between them. I havenae asked. I’ve been away so long.” And she didn’t want to add that she’d purposely avoided the subject of Alan with her brothers, but now she saw she would need to change that, because the family that she knew stuck together. Something about the whole si
tuation was off.

  He let go, and she brought her hands to her elbows, making a protective circle and warding off the chill bumps that were threatening to erupt on her arms.

  “I was hoping to escort you on a walk today.” He raised his hands palm up and looked to the sky.

  “Sounds lovely, but I’m afraid we have missed our opportunity. Maybe we could tomorrow morning.”

  “She will need an escort,” Finlay interjected as he stepped up beside them.

  “Nonsense. Hamish is a good friend of the Macnabs. I have kenned him for quite some time. Finlay, have ye ever met him?”

  “I have now,” Finlay snapped, and she noticed he’d positioned himself between Blair and Hamish. “I have heard ye are a radical Covenanter.” Her guess was that he would pull her away if he felt he could, too.

  Her mouth fell open at the animosity she’d not thought him capable of. “Finlay,” she protested, but then she remembered Finlay had another life. She knew little of it, other than his father, who was English, was a close friend to King Charles.

  “No, Kirstie, it is right for a Cameron to be wary with everything going on.” Hamish put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and Finlay looked like he would knock it off. Slowly removing it, he ran his tongue over his teeth as he studied her brother’s man.

  “’Tis all right,” Blair said, reaching out to touch Finlay’s arm. The gesture soothed him, but only slightly.

  “I may not be the same religion, but I do not believe force is the way to God. You have nothing to fear from me.” Hamish gave a gentle smile, but Finlay’s scrutiny shifted between the two of them, obviously not believing a word.

  “I believe the lasses need to get some dry clothes on.” Holding onto Blair with one hand, Finlay grabbed Kirstie’s arm with the other and pulled them in the direction of their room.

  “Will I see you at dinner tonight?” Hamish called out as she looked over her shoulder and gave him a quick smile she hoped conveyed her embarrassment over being dragged off like a child.