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Authors: Hannah Howell

Highland Champion (6 page)

BOOK: Highland Champion
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Keira was disgusted with herself. She had been living with the man for a month. One would think she could easily conquer her need to look at him. When he had been too weak and injured to tend to himself, she had seen every part of him. True, he had not been quite so beautiful, but once the swelling had eased and the bruises had begun to fade, he had grown more handsome each day. She was sure he had reached the limit by now. Since she had been looking at him in this pleasurable guise for several days, it was past time to cease finding it such a delight.

As she wrung the water from her shift with a vigor she feared might ruin it, Keira admitted to herself that she had abruptly left the table because she was within a heartbeat of demanding that he put his shirt back on. That would have told him far too much about how she felt. Anger was something she could explain away. What woman would not be angry to discover that the man she had worked so hard to heal was little better than a hound constantly sniffing the air for a bitch coming into season? She also suspected that most women would be as hurt and angry as she felt for one of the reasons she was rather ashamed to admit to—this hound had not sniffed
her
out.

It hurt more than she cared to admit, far more than Duncan’s sorrowful lack of desire for her. What that told her about the state of her feelings for the man was something she was too terrified to look at closely. He had been cloistered in a remote cottage with her for a whole month, and he had not even kissed her. Was it any wonder she felt such a strong need to weep she could barely swallow her food?

Something white flashed before her eyes and splashed into the bathwater. Keira stared down at Liam’s shirt. Slowly, she picked it up. He obviously expected her to wash it. For a moment, she savored the image of pinning him to his seat and making him eat it. She glanced at him, seeing that he had already returned to the table and was calmly eating the last of the food. He smiled sweetly at her, and she glared at him before turning back to her washing.

Liam smothered a laugh. That glare had been so sharp he was surprised he was not bleeding. He had always thought his cousin Sigimor’s tendency to stir people into a rage an odd way to sort out problems and conflicts, but he began to see some merit in it. Keira was definitely smoldering at the moment. If he kept poking at that fire, it would soon flare up, and then all those words she was choking back would come out He suspected he would not like some of what she said, but at least he would no longer have to guess at what she was thinking.

He made a few idle attempts at conversation, but was glad when Mary and her two brothers appeared to remove the tray and the bath. Talking to Keira was no better than talking to himself or the wall, for what few responses she made were indistinct murmurs
and something that came perilously close to a grunt. Then Mary began to speak of something from the past, a particularly lusty time when he and a few of his cousins from Dubheidland had stopped for a night Liam quickly ushered the still chattering woman out of the room, but could see from the narrowing of Keira’s eyes that it had probably been too little, too late. Inwardly cursing to himself, he sat on the edge of the bed and began to remove his boots.

“What are ye doing?” asked Keira.

Glaring at Liam, she tried to banish Mary’s words from her mind. It was not easy, and Keira doubted it would get much easier for a long while. Mary had not said anything very precise, but she had said just enough before Liam had pushed her out of the room to give Keira a vague idea of what had gone on in the past. Now her far too keen imagination was running wild. She was going to have to strangle it, or she would never sleep again.

“Going to bed,” Liam replied even as he settled down on the bed, idly arranging the pillow until it was in just the right shape.

“We cannae share a bed.”

“I have kept my breeches on. And we have lived together for a month.”

“We have ne’er slept in the same bed. Sharing the cottage was necessary, especially until ye began to heal enough to do some things for yourself. Sharing this bed isnae necessary. Ye can sleep on the floor.”

“I have a broken leg, if ye recall. It isnae pleased that I have bounced it about on the back of a horse for hours. I am sleeping in this bed. If ye arenae able to trust me to restrain my lechery for a night, then ye can sleep on the floor.” The way her eyes widened slightly told him that a little too much of his anger and frustration may have been revealed in his voice. “I will use the top blanket. Ye can wrap your wee self up in all the rest.” He pulled the cover over himself and closed his eyes.

Keira hesitated only a few moments before shedding her robe and climbing into bed. Her knight could be ill-tempered and very ungallant, she mused. This was probably the best proof of how much his leg must ache. There was also the fact that he had never touched her in any overtly seductive way in all the time they had been together. Keira doubted any man could hold to any guise for so long without some brief glimpse of his true self slipping by his guard. Therefore, it was painfully evident that she did not rouse his lechery, even though it was becoming increasingly evident that Liam Cameron was very free with his favors. Tightly closing her eyes, she fought back the pain caused by that hard, cold truth and settled herself more comfortably upon what was a surprisingly comfortable, clean bed. She was almost grateful for the exhaustion that seemed to have settled into her very bones for it meant even her troubled thoughts and foolish, aching heart would not be able to rob her of much sleep.

“So, all your kinsmen were virgins ere they wed, were they?” Liam asked quietly as soon as he felt her relax beside him.

Now that was definitely a growl, he thought and grinned, not surprised when that furious noise was her only reply. Although he was willing to admit that he could have used a little more restraint in the past, he was not about to meekly accept being treated like a leper simply because he had not held himself inviolate until marriage. He had taken only what was offered, had made no woman any empty promises just to draw her into his bed, had never stolen a woman’s virginity, and had never touched a woman who was
betrothed or married to another. That last rule was going to be the one he would make Keira understand and believe in. In the confrontation he was pushing for, he would finally have a chance to explain all of that, and he knew a confrontation was coming.

Keira was definitely smoldering, and he found some hope for himself in her anger. It seemed impossible to him that a woman could be so angry over his past amours if she had no feeling for him beyond kindness or friendship. He would feed that anger, pile fuel upon that fire every chance he got until she popped like a roasting chestnut and all those words she was holding in flowed out. As he felt his exhaustion pull him into the comforting realm of sleep, he also decided that when she did pop, he would make sure no sharp weapons were close at hand.

CHAPTER
6

Smooth, warm skin heated the palms of her hands, and Keira murmured with pleasure. Liam did have a lovely chest. She had seen men’s chests before. In her capacity as a healer, she had even touched a few. Yet she could not think of a one that was as fine as Liam Cameron’s. It was the first time she had ever felt it so clearly in her dreams, however. Despite the nagging voice in her head that said it was time to wake up, she decided she would linger in this dream for a little while longer.

She pressed her cheek against his taut skin and smiled faintly as she heard the pace of his heartbeat increase. At least in her dreams she could stir his interest. In her dreams, she was always sultry and tempting, the sort of seductress that made men pant. To hear Liam’s breathing grow louder and unsteadier was sweet music to her ears. She ignored the whisper that flitted through her mind, saying that Liam was a man who panted after anything in a petticoat. It might be true, but in her dream, all she cared about was that he panted after her.

Since this was a dream, she gave into the temptation to kiss, and then lick, that warm skin. A softly hissed curse tickled her ears. Keira smiled against his skin and murmured his name. It made her almost light-headed with delight to know she could stir the blood of such a handsome man.

Long fingers threaded through her hair. She sighed with pleasure. When those lightly calloused hands gently cradled her face and exerted a little tug, she freely obeyed the silent request and tilted her head back. Warm, soft lips pressed against hers, and Keira was astonished by how clearly she could hear, feel, and taste her dream lover. When he nudged at her lips with his tongue, she readily parted them. The feel of his tongue stroking the inside of her mouth roused a heat within her so strong and sweet, full consciousness began to intrude upon her dream. She clutched his trim hips to pull him closer, desperate to remain unaware, to ignore the harsh voice in her head that said she was not dreaming. If this was not a dream, she would have to put a stop to it, and she did not want to.

“Lass,” Liam said, not surprised by the hoarse rasp of need roughening his voice, “if ye dinnae get your hands off me now, ’twill soon be too late to retreat from this.”

The sound of that deep voice tore away Keira’s lingering confusion, and she opened her eyes. She stared into Liam’s eyes, noting what a warm blue color they were for a moment before the heat of a fierce blush burned her face. She pulled away from him so abruptly she paid no heed to how close to the edge of the bed she was. A soft screech escaped her as she struggled vainly to regain her balance and then hit the floor hard. Liam peered over the edge of the bed, his eyes alight with laughter, and she closed her eyes.

“It wouldnae be wise to laugh, Sir Liam,” she said, embarrassment and anger at herself making her tone of voice impressively hard and cold.

Liam sprawled onto his back, closed his eyes, and did his best to suppress both his urge to laugh and the desire racing through his body. When he had first felt her soft caress upon his skin and had noticed that her eyes were closed, he had feared she thought she was abed with her late husband. She had not been a widow for very long, and while still asleep, such confusion was possible. Then she had murmured
his
name. The desire he had been fighting to control had abruptly snapped every bond he had put on it.

He had known then, and still knew, that it was far from gallant to take advantage of Keira when she was still more asleep than awake, but he felt no guilt. From the moment
he had set eyes on her, he had wanted to taste that sensuous mouth. It had proven to be as sweet as he had thought it would be. Then his sense of honor had reared its troublesome head. Once it had cleared some of the lust from his brain, he had also realized that he did not want to trick her into his arms. He wanted her to come to him willingly and fully aware of what was happening.

The sound of Keira hurriedly dressing reached his ears, and he chanced a peek at her from beneath his lashes. He did not think he had ever seen a woman blush quite that brilliantly. She also looked very cross and a little distressed, but he hardened his heart to her upset. That kiss had verified all his tentative hopes and exceeded all of his expectations. She would not be allowed to turn back now. He might have to steal a few more kisses before she accepted the strength of the passion that flared between them, but he was up to the task. Since his intentions were honorable, he felt no guilt over his plan to seduce her. Brief though the embrace had been, it had given him a taste of a passion hotter and richer than any he had ever felt before, and he intended to claim it for his own.

Liam’s silence only added to Keira’s embarrassment. In the brief time in his arms, caught between a dream and reality, she had exposed her desire for him. There would be no denying it now. He simply would not believe her. Desperate to get away from him, to regain her wits and self-control, she started out of the room.

“I will return shortly with something to break our fast,” she said and made her escape before he could reply.

Slowly, Liam sat up. He took a few deep breaths to banish the remnants of his lust, although he suspected his body would ache with unsatisfied need for a long while. His little bird had flown for now, but she would not go far. While he dressed and waited for her to bring them some food, he would carefully plan the first step of his campaign to woo and win her.

 

Keira held the tray laden with food and drink and stared at the door of the bedchamber. She had stayed away for almost an hour, earning a few curious looks from Mary. A brisk walk in the chill morning mists had cleared her head but little else. She could still feel the warmth of his skin on her palms, still taste his kiss, and it made her ache.

Lust, she decided, was a treacherous thing. She had been able to keep it a secret, use it only to sweeten her dreams, but that kiss had unleashed it. It wanted her to ignore every rule and all good sense. It did not care if her heart was at risk. It was a mindless hunger. Keira greatly feared it could easily make her become the greatest of fools.

Wishing it were his shin she was abusing, Keira kicked at the door. Liam opened it, but stared at her legs. He then looked up and down the hall.

“What are ye doing?” she asked.

“Looking for the verra wee person who knocked at the door,” he replied.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing, Keira gave him what she hoped was a very stern frown. With a faint but impish grin on his face and a glint of laughter in his eyes, the man was almost endearingly attractive. It was probably one of but many ways he seduced so many women, she reminded herself. Her anger renewed, she nudged him out of her way and marched into the room. Even if she was free to do as she pleased, she would still fight his allure, for she had no wish to be just one in a multitude of conquests.

Liam allowed her to hold fast to her silence for now. He had tasted her desire and seen that he could still make her laugh. One look at her face had told him that she was doing her best not to reveal her amusement over his little jest at the door. He had also seen how she had stiffened her spine and banished it.

As they ate and then gathered up their belongings, Liam made only a few attempts to stir her simmering anger into a rage. He could see it would not take much to accomplish that, and he did not wish to have the confrontation he sought here, in a tiny room in an alehouse, within earshot of a woman he had once bedded. Especially not within earshot of a woman like Mary, for he had no doubt she would repeat whatever she heard to anyone who would listen. As they continued on to Scarglas, he would have hours of privacy to goad Keira until she was too angry to keep silent.

 

How had she missed seeing how irritating this man could be? Keira asked herself as she and Liam made camp for the night. She felt nearly nauseous from all of the anger and hurt churning inside of her. The worst of it all was that if she repeated his words to anyone else, they would not understand what was making her feel so crazed. The words only had power because of their shared time together and the tumultuous state of her emotions. It was as if he were poking at an open wound. There were times when she felt certain Liam knew exactly what he was doing, and that only made her angrier.

He gave her only the smallest assistance in preparing their meal. Keira knew his leg hurt him for he was slightly wan and there was a pinched look on his face. That had not stopped him from helping her before, however. It was as if all his gallantry had vanished, had been left behind in the cottage. The more she thought about him, his legions of women, and how he would not leave her in peace so that she could turn her anger and hurt into a nice, icy cold distance, the angrier she got. It was almost impossible to swallow her food.

“A good meal, lass,” Liam said and gently tossed his empty wooden bowl at her feet. “’Twill be good to reach Scarglas, however. There is a lass there named Mag who can make the finest rabbit stew ye have e’er tasted.”

“Do ye ken any lasses whose names dinnae begin with ‘m’?” she asked, surprised she could speak at all with her jaws so tense and her teeth clenched.

“Weel, aye. A few.” He watched Keira closely as he said, “Anne, Brenda, Clara, Deirdre, Ellen, Fiona, Gay, Helen, Ilsa, Jolene, Katie—”

“The whole alphabet? Ye have rutted your way through the whole cursed alphabet?”

Here it comes, he thought, and prepared himself to remain calm and reasonable in the face of the insults he suspected he would soon have to endure. “Weel, nay. I dinnae think I ken a lass whose name begins with an ‘x’ or a ‘z’.”

“Ye are a lecherous swine, sir,” she hissed. “Oh, I should have kenned it e’en before that fool woman arrived. Any mon as bonnie as ye are was certain to be one who spent more time with his breeches down than up and laced tight.”

“I wouldnae say that,” began Liam.

Now that she had begun to speak, Keira was unable to stop herself. “Nay, ye wouldnae, would ye? Just like
all
men, ye think it great fun and sport, aye, and your right to rut yourself blind. Ye have no more control than a stoat!”

Keira leapt to her feet and started to pace, but it did not stop the words from
pouring out of her mouth. She was a little appalled at some of the things she was saying, but she could not seem to shut herself up. Every thought she had had since Lady Maude had come banging on the cottage door was coming out of her mouth. They had obviously festered in her mind and heart long enough.

“Men can be such hypocrites,” she said after a lengthy diatribe that maligned men’s morals and intelligence. “They demand chastity, purity, and abject faithfulness in their women whilst they try to slip beneath the petticoats of every maid, wife, and widow they can find. Men would rut with a hole in the ground!”

Shock that she had actually said such a crude thing broke through the red haze of fury that had taken control of her mind and tongue. There was a choked sound behind her, and Keira blushed. When she felt Liam’s hands rest upon her shoulders, she only briefly tensed against his effort to turn her around. The moment she was facing him, she rested her forehead against his chest. Not only had she said a lot of things she should not have, but she also did not feel all that much better for having said them. Worse, she greatly feared she had revealed far too much about what she felt for this man.

Liam grinned at the top of her head. The lass had a true skill for ranting. Although she had directed most of her sharp, scathing remarks at men in general, he knew they were meant for him. Some of them had definitely left a bruise. Although he was willing to accept the charge that he had been less than temperate, he had to wonder how she could think he, or any other man, could be as licentious as she imagined.

“A hole in the ground?” he murmured and laughed softly when she flinched. “I have ne’er done that.”

“Oh, hush,” she said, embarrassed right down to her toes. “I cannae believe I said that.”

“Ye said a lot of things.”

Since she could not clearly recall everything she had said, and did not truly want to, Keira just nodded. “I let myself believe ye were better than most,” she muttered.

That hurt, but Liam decided it was for the best if her illusions were muddied a little. It would be impossible to live up to an ideal. He wanted her to know him and want him despite his faults. If she was going to be disillusioned, better now than later, after he had claimed her.

“Lass, men start looking about for a willing woman at a young age, ere their beards e’en grow noticeable.”

“That doesnae make it right.” Keira winced, afraid she sounded annoyingly pious and self-righteous.

“Nay, it doesnae, but there are women aplenty who are willing to scratch that itch.”

“And ye are an extraordinarily itchy mon, is that it?”

“Mayhap, though I doubt any mon could be as, er, itchy as ye were implying, not if he wished to live a long life.”

Perhaps she had exaggerated a little, Keira thought, but if he expected her to admit to that, he would root where he stood.

“I dinnae seduce maids out of their chastity, and I dinnae touch women who are betrothed or wed to another mon.” He was not surprised when she lifted her head to scowl at him.

“Lady Maude said—” she began.

“Lady Maude lied.”

He sounded so certain of that, his every word holding the ring of truth, but Keira still felt uneasy. “But she is so beautiful,” she muttered.

“And that means that she must be telling the truth?”

“Ah, weel, nay, but it makes one question her hunting down a mon who says he doesnae want her. I would think she wouldnae have to chase any mon. Men must chase her.”

“Oh, they do, and mayhap, that is some of the trouble. I didnae.” Since she had not moved out of his light embrace, Liam began to stroke her slim back gently. “Aye, I have had my share of women.” He ignored her grumbled
and more
. “Howbeit, I dinnae trespass. Some of that is Sigimor’s teaching, and some is due to my years of training to be a monk. Betrothed lasses and wives have said vows afore God. I will have no part in the breaking of them.”

BOOK: Highland Champion
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