A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (5 page)

She whimpered, and the blade lowered to her side, then fell
to the floor. First one arm, then the other, snaked about Darach's neck. She couldn't help it. And it was, after all, but one wee
kiss.

His mouth opened hungrily over hers, his lips slanting in
ardent, demanding possession, his arms moving to encircle her
and pull her yet closer. Caitlin met his onslaught with a fiery one
of her own. It was foolish, mad even, but for a glorious instant
more she couldn't help herself. Then reason, traitorous and most
unwelcome, crept back in.

He was no better, indeed, likely worse, than David had been.
David, leastwise, had treated her with a circumspect restraint
for months, courting her with the most gentlemanly overtures.
He, at least, had paid her respect, even if it, in the end, had been
mainly due to her Campbell name. But this man-this Darach
MacFarlane-barely knew her.

There was nothing he wanted but a brief, sordid tryst behind
a locked door. A wee kiss indeed! He wanted that and so very
much more.

With an angry, frustrated sound, Caitlin wrenched first her
mouth and then her body free of his possessive, controlling clasp.
She brought her hands up, placed them on the hard-muscled
expanse of his chest, and pushed.

It was like trying to move some huge boulder. Darach released
her but didn't budge.

"Had enough for now, have ye?" he asked, his voice rough
and raw.

"Enough for a lifetime, were we to live a hundred years and
more!" Caitlin glared up at him. "Ye got yet wee kiss. Now go
before I change my mind and use my knife on ye anyway."

Darach laughed but began backing away. "Dinna fash yerself,
lass. I'm a patient man and verra satisfied for the present. There'll
be other times, and no need to make idle threats with that wee
knife of yers."

"Wee knife? Other times?"

This man was insufferable! Caitlin stooped, picked up the
knife, then straightened and advanced on him.

"Are ye daft? Make no mistake. There'll be no other times.
Not now and not ever!"

"Have it yer way then," he said as he reached the door, slid
back the bolt, and swung the portal wide. "But we all know how
oft a lass is wont to change her mind, don't we? And especially
one who kisses a man like ye just did me."

With an outraged cry and knife held high, Caitlin flung herself
across the room. Darach was far too swift for her, though.

By the time she reached the door and hurried into the corridor,
the fluttering edge of his kilt disappearing around a corner was all
that remained of the dark Highlander. To her chagrin, however,
their exchange apparently hadn't been totally private. Anne and
her cousin Janet stood transfixed just outside the kitchen door,
their eyes wide and mouths agape.

"I take it that was one of our guests?" Anne inquired once she had
sent Janet on her way, escorted Caitlin back into the storeroom,
and closed the door. "Considering his quite admirable agility and
speed, I can only also assume he was Darach MacFarlane and not
the bard."

If she had walked into the Great Hall dressed only in her
nightrail, Caitlin couldn't have been more humiliated. Curse that
vile, contemptible, loathsome man! At every turn, he managed
to shame her in some manner or another. Shame and trick her,
if the truth were told.

But nothing was served making excuses to Anne. Her sisterin-law was too quick of mind for such futile ploys.

"Aye, that was him," she muttered, not quite able to meet the
other woman's gaze. "Would ye like for me to go after him and
fetch him back so ye can finally make his acquaintance? Then ye
could take over his friend's care, and I could be well and finally
rid of him."

"From what I overheard-thanks to yet wide open door-it
didn't seem to me that ye or he were all that disposed never to
see each other again. Leastwise, not for long."

Hot blood flooded Caitlin's cheeks yet again. "It was but a wee
misunderstanding, and naught to trouble yerself about."

An auburn brow arched, and Anne eyed the knife still clenched
in Caitlin's fist. "And which misunderstanding might that be?
The threat to his life and limb or the kiss? And do one or both
necessitate a talk with yet brother upon his return?"

"Neither, Anne. Neither, I beg ye!"

Caitlin laid the knife on the table and rushed back over to her
sister-in-law. She grasped both her hands.

"Please, Anne. Don't tell Niall. Och, don't tell him!"

"He's not some ogre, lass." Anne's silver eyes warmed with concern. "He just cares for ye and doesn't wish to see ye hurt again."

Caitlin gave an unsteady laugh, released the other woman's
hands, and took a step back. "Then more's the reason not to
unduly upset him. Darach MacFarlane means naught to me.
I despise the man. Indeed, I rue my shortsighted folly even in
inviting him to Kilchurn."

Anne graced her with a disbelieving look. "I think, instead,
the folly began but a short time ago, when ye invited a stranger
into this room and closed the door behind ye." She sighed and
shook her head. "Truly, Caitlin, it's past time ye learned to be
more cautious with men."

Listening to Anne's well meant and quite accurate words, Caitlin could feel her eyes begin to burn and knew the tears would
soon follow. She was so frustrated, so ashamed, she could hardly
think straight.

Darach MacFarlane had instigated this whole sorry mess. He,
not she, had closed and locked the door, then demanded a kiss.
Yet it was her motives that would be suspect, her honor that
would suffer because of it.

Why, oh why, did the man always seem to increase his stature
in the aftermath of such incidents, while the woman always paid
the price? It wasn't fair, and she was mightily sick of it!

"It was only a one-time kiss, Anne," she finally replied, knowing full well she was as culpable as Darach in that kiss. It wasn't, after all, as if he'd had to force her to do anything. "And it's not
as if I'm betrothed, much less wed, to anyone."

"Aye, well I know that. I just worry about ye, Caitlin. Ye seem
so at a loss, so restless and searching, especially since Lord Graham
withdrew his offer of marriage ..."

"And pleased I am that he did," Caitlin cried even as tears
stung her eyes. "David was never worthy of me!"

"He indeed was never worthy of ye. And neither was young
Rory nor some of the others who came after him, even before ye
met David Graham." A faraway look clouded Anne's eyes, and
she smiled. "I'll never forget the look on yet face when Niall
caught ye kissing Rory that day in the rose bower. I'm still not
certain which emotion was stronger in ye-the shock or the high
indignation at being caught."

"Though I hadn't the wisdom to see it then, Rory was never
the man for me either."

"Aye, wisdom." Anne took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Please accept this in the spirit it's intended, for I love ye dearly,
lass. But that's exactly what concerns me. Yet continued lack of
wisdom when it comes to men and to other things entirely."

Caitlin dragged in a deep, steadying breath. She knew she was
proud and impatient and prone to think more of herself than
of others. She also possessed a restless spirit. A part of her was
always searching for something better, something more exciting
and fulfilling-whatever that something might be.

She knew those were her deepest flaws. She didn't need Anne,
her brother, or even the local preacher repeatedly reminding her
of them. Besides, recognition of a flaw didn't seem to make it
any easier to eradicate. Nor did it make it any easier to accept as
a failing requiring one humbly to beg forgiveness.

"I need a good, strong man to rein me in," she said, wiping
away the tears. "I've known it for a while now, but good, strong
men seem in short supply of late."

"A good, strong man is a blessing indeed," the auburn-haired
woman replied. "But the motivation to change-and the changemust ultimately come from within ourselves. Ye must be yet own
woman, Caitlin, and do the changing because ye feel the need, not
because another wishes ye to do so. Ye must die to yerself because
the Lord asks it of ye, because it's the right thing to do. No matter
how hard the task seems-and och, at times it's hard, painfully
hard, indeed-ye must always strive for what's right and good."

"There's no sin in a simple kiss."

"Nay, there isn't. But we must guard our emotions and our
fleshly desires, lest they lead us into an occasion of sin." Anne
cocked her head. "From the looks of that braw young MacFarlane
and the alacrity with which ye apparently responded to him, I
think it wise to step back. Step back and reconsider where this
might be headed."

"That's not as easy as it may seem."

As much as she hated to admit it, Caitlin couldn't help but
speak what she knew in her heart to be true. Even now, as furious as she was with him, try as hard as she could, she couldn't
quell the thrill of anticipation she felt at the consideration of
next seeing Darach.

"I, of all people, know it's not easy. If only ye knew all the
times before we wed that I was sorely tempted just being in
Niall's presence." Anne sighed. "I burned for him, Caitlin. Och,
how I burned."

"Leastwise Niall was an honorable man. But Darach ..." She
threw up her hands. "Och, why am I even bothering with this?
He's leaving soon, likely never to return and even less likely ever
to want to. I mean naught to him but some passing dalliance."

"More the reason to guard yet heart, lass. In truth, ye know
naught about him. And, if I recall correctly, ye earlier made
mention that ye weren't even sure of his real reasons for being
here."

Caitlin frowned. "Aye. True enough. I am being played for
the fool, aren't I?"

Anne smiled. "I hope he isn't quite that coldhearted and conniving. But mayhap it's wise to take a bit more care."

"Best I not associate with him again, leastwise not by myself,
until he departs Kilchurn." She nodded with resolve. "Aye, it's
for the best not knowingly to place oneself in temptation's path.
Will ye see to Kenneth's foot from here on until it's healed? Then
they can both be on their way."

"Gladly. When will it next need care?"

"On the morrow. If all goes well, it should heal quickly." Caitlin
paused as a thought struck her. "They'll still need their supper
taken down to them this eve. I was in the process of giving that
man a tour of Kilchurn before sending him to the kitchen to
fetch their supper, when we got waylaid in here. In fact, I don't
know where Darach has even gone to."

"Dinna fash yerself. I'll send someone down with their meal.
If he hasn't returned to their chamber by then, Jamie can find
him, wherever he has gone to."

A heavy weight seemed suddenly to have lifted from Caitlin's
shoulders. Aye, she thought, it was best simply to avoid any further interaction with Darach MacFarlane until he finally walked
out of her life forever. For reasons she couldn't quite comprehend,
he attracted her like no man ever had. Not even David had disturbed or drawn her like he did.

That wasn't, however, she realized with a tiny shiver, necessarily
a good thing. Not a good thing at all.

The further Dar got from the outraged little spitfire, the more
his pleasure at besting her dissipated. But not, he was swift to
assure himself, because he had been at all affected by their brief if surprisingly passionate kiss. Or, leastwise, no more so than he
had ever been by any other bonny lass he had kissed.

It was only his self-disgust at playing such a cad that rankled
him. He wasn't above taking what was freely offered; yet, despite
Caitlin's barely disguised attraction to him, he had pushed harder
than he was wont. Though he had little enough honor left him
these days, he did prefer to imagine himself more honorable with
the lasses than he had been with that black-haired beauty.

He could blame her, he supposed. The looks she sent him ...
those brilliant, flashing eyes ... and her lips!

By mountain and sea, but she had the most red, ripe, and succulent of lips! It would take a saint to deny those lips, especially
when they were lifted so willingly to a man.

The lass stirred his blood, and no mistake. But it wasn't just
her slender, womanly form or eager response. Beneath her carefully guarded demeanor there lay sharp intelligence, a clever wit,
and a good and caring heart. There was also, Dar added with an
amused quirk of his mouth, a headstrong willfulness and deepseated pride. All things considered, she was the most exceptional
and exciting woman he had ever met.

The realization was of meager comfort as he made his way
back down the stairs leading to their underground quarters. The
likelihood was very strong now that they would have no supper,
and it wasn't as if Dar could explain that his impulsive assault
on Caitlin in the storeroom was the reason. Kenneth had already
warned him to have a care with the lass. To now explain what he
had done would hardly go over well with his friend.