To Steal a Highlander's Heart (13 page)

Ach,
he doubted all the lochs in Scotland could cool his need for her.

***

The
shutters crashed against the castle as she threw them open. A clear sky greeted
her and the gentle breeze cooled her skin. But it could not cool her thoughts.
These dreams were coming every night now and were becoming more and more
heated. She glanced at the bed, eyeing the rumpled sheets and the indent where
Morgann had lain.

Where
was he? In spite of the heat the dream had caused it was still a cold night so
she didn’t know why he'd left her bed. The tangled bedding sparked a memory of
hard masculine flesh crawling across them. It wasn't real but, sweet Mary, her dream
had been vivid. The way his body aligned with hers. The way he took her mouth so
fiercely. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

She
couldn’t sleep. Not after everything Morgann had told her. It made sense. Her
father had been power-hungry in his younger years and Margot was certainly an
experienced seductress. Not many men would refuse her.

Except
Morgann. After their day together, catching fish and cooking them by the loch,
a fresh sense of hope pervaded her.
That
was the man she loved.

Foolish,
stubborn man that he was. So many years wasted. If he’d only told her of his worries,
she was sure she could right them. But a highlander didn’t rely on a mere lass.
Nay, they were taught to protect the weak and deal with their problems on their
own. In spite of his idiocy, she couldn’t help but admire him all the more for
bearing his troubles alone.

She
leaned further out the window, seeking the relief of the fresh night air. Stars
dotted the skies, reflected in the loch. The flat inky black surface mirrored
the sky so well that Alana was half tempted to run down and jump in and pretend
she was bathing with the stars.

A
movement in the water caught her attention, a ripple that caused the pinpricks
of light to bob and weave. Alana squinted at the spot. A gasp wedged in her
throat as a person surfaced. Nay, not a person.
Morgann.
His shoulders
breached the water, the shadowy surface shrinking away to reveal his chest as
if birthing him from the gloom. If she didn't know better she'd think him some
dark and sinister being.

But
no monster could look like that. Indeed he still looked dangerous but the danger
was more likely to her heart than her body.

Nay,
mayhap the danger was to both.

Her
mouth grew dry and she realised she watched with an open mouth. Nails digging
into the stone windowsill, she found herself unable to turn away as he continued
to stalk toward the edge of the loch.

Lean
hips came next and her cheeks flamed as she eyed the shadows at the juncture of
his thighs. Alana scolded herself for wishing the light was better. Muscles
flexed and rippled as he stepped completely from the water and reached for
something. His plaid by the looks of it.

Disappointment
struck her as he wrapped it about his hips and grasped it in one hand. Still,
she took a moment to study his torso. Her dreams, as heated as they had been,
had done him little justice. As he moved closer to the keep, she made out the
dark hair that swirled over his chest, leading down his firm stomach in
invitation.

Before
she had a chance to think on it, Alana spun away and flung open the door to the
chambers. She scurried along the hall to the front entrance and paused, heart
thumping as she waited. What
was
she doing?

Legs
frozen, she listened as wet feet slapped against the stone steps. What would
she even say to him? Her chest grew tight as the door creaked open slowly. He
was likely trying to be quiet so as not to wake her. She dropped her gaze to
the floor, unsure what on Earth she was going to say to him.

Water
pattered gently onto the wooden floorboards as he stepped in. Before she could
utter a word, he was upon her, one strong hand wrapped around her throat and he
thrust her back against the wall. She tried to scream but his grip was too
powerful and it came out as a muffled sound. He bore down on her and plunged a
hand into her hair, yanked her head up.

The
rage in his expression made her insides shrivel in fear and she went limp
against his hold, the pressure from his hand making her neck ache. Morgann
dropped both hands suddenly and she sagged against the wall.

"Alana?
Hell fire!"

Alana
blinked, a hand to her neck as she swallowed her fear.

"Did
I hurt ye? Forgive me, 'twas dark. I didn’t think. I thought ye were Margot.
God's teeth, forgive me."

He
reached out and she shrank back. But it wasn't fear she felt anymore. As he'd
grabbed her, he'd dropped his plaid and he now stood completely naked. While
she remained in the shadows, the starlight streaming through the door
highlighted him perfectly. She saw everything. From his large masculine feet,
to his muscular thighs, to his manhood.

She
tilted her head slightly. His manhood that appeared to be growing. Heat flourished
in her chest and she put a hand to it. Oh dear Lord. And she couldn't seem to
drag her gaze away.

"Alana,
are ye well? Did I hurt ye? Talk to me, lass."

Snapping
her eyes up, she shook her head frantically, unable to find enough of her voice
to even utter a simple 'nay'.

"What
were ye doing, lass?"

Of
its own accord, her gaze slipped down to the apex of his thighs and she gulped,
the sound seeming loud in her ears. Mayhap he'd heard it too as he cursed and
darted a look around. He spied his plaid, snatched it up and flung it lazily
around his hips, fisting it in one hand.

"I-I
couldnae sleep," she squeaked, suddenly finding what was left of her voice.
"What were ye doing?" she added accusingly.

Aye,
why was he swimming in the middle of the night and teasing her with his
warrior's body?

"Cooling
off," he replied easily, inching closer. Morgann reached out and brushed a
thumb across her throat, soothing the spot where his fingers had pressed.

She
scowled. "'Tis nae hot."

He
grinned suddenly, teeth flashing in the dark and mischievous Morgann made himself
known. "'Tis when I share a bed with ye."

"Oh."

They
both fell silent as his thumb continued to play across her throat. The coarse
fingertip against her skin made her shiver as she stared up at him. Hair hung
over his face, still wet and spiked and dark eyes peeked out from underneath
it, his lashes wet too. It made her want to reach out and brush his hair away,
to smooth a palm across his cheek and savour the rough texture but she remained
rigid, fearful of making the wrong move and ending the moment. It seemed fate
had been leading up to this point and everything was suddenly very clear.

All
this time life forced her into Morgann's arms. As if they were being given a
second chance. They'd missed out on their time together all those years ago and
now this was it. They'd both changed but this day had proved to her there was
more to Morgann than surly moods and a gruff manner. Buried deep inside was her
friend. She’d seen him briefly when they’d played around in the loch.

And
on the outside was a beautiful, fierce man. Both combined made her weak at the
knees.

A
drop of water splashed on her cheek as it dripped from his hair and it made her
jolt as she realised just how close he was. Somehow he now stood so near that
she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. She had to crane her neck to
look up at him.

"Did
I hurt ye?" he asked again, his voice gruff.

"Nay."
Her voice sounded just as gruff to her ears.

"I
couldnae forgive myself if I did. I've never wanted to hurt ye, Alana.
Everything I’ve done has been to protect ye, ye know."

She
nodded dumbly as he closed the gap with agonising slowness. She gasped as his body
squashed her breasts, her nipples instantly pebbling. He kept coming, pressing
into her until not a whisper of air could fit between them. His hard thighs
rasped against her chemise.

She
whimpered. His hand left her throat. His mouth took its place.

Warmth
and delicious sensations curled through her as Morgann opened his lips against
her neck and flicked his tongue across her skin. She leaned away, giving him
better access and he trailed kisses up and down the side of her neck.

She
wrapped both arms around his neck and toyed with the damp hair there. One of
his hands plunged under her hair, tugged it high, completely exposing her
shoulder to him. Morgann jerked lightly on her chemise with the other hand and
it slipped down, hanging just above her breasts.

And
then that hand was upon one of her breasts, comforting and teasing at the same
time. He cupped her through the linen, rolled her nipple tight. He groaned
against the crook of her shoulder and teeth nipped lightly at her skin.

"Ye
taste so good," he murmured. "So good."

Alana
arched to his touch and angled her hips into him. Hardness greeted her, his
plaid gone, as an ache took hold, one that could only be ended by Morgann. The
scent of damp skin teased as his wet hair brushed her cheek. He pulled away
suddenly, hand still clasped over her breast, fingers remaining under her hair.

"I
cannae do it." His eyes were hooded, dark with lust, voice thick and
emotion filled.

Alana's
heart dropped. She leaned her head back, let the air release from her chest and
dropped her hands to her side.

"I
cannae do it, Alana. I cannae stay away from ye. I wanted to protect ye, to be
strong for ye... I dinnae think I can be strong anymore."

Relief
streamed through her. He wasn't turning her down. She placed her palm over his
heart, the thud strong, reassuring. "Dinnae be strong, Morgann. Just be
ye. And kiss me."

He
gave a groan of resignation and the hand on her breast advanced around behind
her, bundled her against him. Lips moved roughly over hers, claiming, seeking.
He coaxed her mouth apart and the damp heat of his tongue shocked her, forced
her to grip his arms tightly. Sinuously twining with her tongue, he explored
every recess of her mouth as fire built between them. The throb between her
thighs became more acute, almost painful. She rocked her hips into him to get some
kind of relief.

Morgann
pulled her away from the wall and his hands roamed her body. The linen chemise
offered little protection against his probing hands as he grasped her bottom,
fingers trailing briefly between her thighs and back up. Alana kept her eyes
closed as he manoeuvred her around the room, mouth firmly upon hers, until
finally the edge of the table bit into the back of her thighs.

Hands
gliding over the planes of his chest, she opened her eyes and reclined. She'd intended
to study him, to relish the sight of firm muscles and crisp hair but to see him,
so gut-wrenchingly beautiful, a vulnerable glint in his eyes, forced a surge of
impatient need through her.

"Kiss
me again," she begged, hooking a hand around his neck and tugging him down.

He
did as she bid. His mouth moved sensuously over hers yet there was an aggression
behind the kiss. A sense of him taking everything from her. But he gave back so
much. His fingers pressed into her hip, massaging her flesh. She fidgeted,
longing for those fingers to put an end to her agony.

"Morgann..."
she keened, unsure of what she begged for now. Only he could know.

He
ripped his mouth from hers, pushing both hands across her cheeks and holding
her face. Their breaths echoed through the vast room. "I need ye,
mo
ghràidh.
I need ye more than my next breath."

"Aye."
She nodded frantically, hooking her legs around his thighs in an attempt to
close the distance again. "Aye," was all she could say again.

"I'll
no' take ye here."

Firm
hands pressed under her bottom and Morgann lifted her easily into his hold. He
coaxed her legs around him, his sex pressed firmly against her tender flesh. So
much restrained power made her shudder and she hid her face in his neck as he
carried her effortlessly into the rear chamber.

Blankets
enveloped her as he laid her down with a tenderness that stretched her heart.
Candlelight gilded his skin, sharpening the shadows in his features, and
highlighting each indent of muscle. She reached out and traced a finger over
his stomach, drawing a hiss from him.

“Did
ye light the candles?” she whispered, grateful to be able to see him properly
but wondering how he had time to light them as he carried her in.

His
brow creased. “Nay, I thought ye did.”

“Nay,”
she replied softly, her confusion dissipating as he stroked a finger down her
cheek, all thoughts forgotten at his tender touch. She continued to explore his
body with her hand as he propped himself over her, weight held on one arm.

Morgann
snatched her hand and laid it carefully back on the bed. “Dinnae touch me,
lass.” He grinned at her disappointed expression. “Just for a little while. I need
to see ye, need to touch ye. Slowly, gently. I dinnae think I can if ye touch
me. ‘Twill be over too soon.”