Maya Banks - Seduction of a Highland Lass

“I’ve had a few of those,” Mairin said wistfully. Then she cast a glance in Ewan’s direction. “Maybe more than a few.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to confide that she, too, had experienced a kiss like no other, but she remained quiet. Instead she glanced Alaric’s way again only to find his gaze caressing her as surely as if he touched her with his hand.

It was as though someone gripped her throat and squeezed. Each breath was torturous, until her chest ached with the effort. She dragged her gaze away and then bolted from her seat at the table. She turned to Ewan first and bobbed an awkward curtsy.

“With your permission, Laird, I would retire above stairs. I find I’m quite tired this eve.”

Ewan nodded and continued his conversation with Alaric.

Keeley then turned to Mairin. “I’ll see you on the morrow. Good eve.”

Mairin shot her a look of sympathy that told Keeley she wasn’t immune to the undercurrents between Keeley and Alaric.

Keeley hurried away but felt the weight of Alaric’s stare the entire time. She couldn’t be away from the scrutiny of those at the table fast enough. She’d already make a fool of herself with all the stolen glances at Alaric. Someone would have to be blind and daft not to sense what was going on.

The climb up the stairs seemed interminable. Her chamber was cold when she let herself in, and shivering, she went about reviving the fire from the nearly dead coals. After adding fresh wood, she stood by the flame a moment to instill warmth in her hands and then went to check the fur covering the window.

Satisfied that all was as it should be, she donned her night dress and slipped beneath the furs on her bed. The only light in the darkness was the vibrant, orange glow of the fire. It cast shadows on the walls and made her feel every bit as alone as she was.

Outside, the wind whistled and groaned, like an old man bemoaning his fate. Keeley wrapped the furs tighter around her and stared at the dancing flames on the ceiling.

If only things were as simple as stealing a kiss. If only she’d take matters into her own hands as Christina had done. Keeley smiled a sad, rueful smile. If only a kiss could solve all the ills. Christina had kissed her man and now they would forge a life together.

She had no life to forge with Alaric. But she could cherish a few stolen moments in his arms.

She went utterly still as the thought took hold. Her breath caught and held and her hand flew to her throat, massaging as if to take the tightness away.

What if she did go to Alaric? How would it change any aspect of her life when she was already thought a woman of no virtue?

She closed her eyes and shook her head in mute denial.

But she couldn’t even use the excuse that Rionna was her friend. Friends didn’t turn their backs. And no one ever had to know.

Just one night.

Was it possible?

Alaric wanted her. He’d make that plain enough. And Keeley wanted him with every breath she breathed. She wanted him so much that it was a physical ache.

What would his hands feel like on her flesh? His mouth against hers?

Aye, it would hurt to walk away from Alaric. It would hurt to have him but for a short tryst, but she was beginning to believe that he was right. A taste of sweet was better than a lifetime of bitter regret. And right now she’d regret going to her cold grave a virgin still.

For so long she held her virtue tight. So tight that naught else mattered. It was her only proof that she wasn’t the whore she’d been labeled. And yet it hadn’t brought her justice. There was no one to stand for her. There would never be anyone to stand for her. Only she knew the truth, and that’s how it would stay.

How much comfort did the truth bring her on cold nights?

She nearly laughed at the lengths her mind went to in order to rationalize her desire to indulge in an affair with her warrior.

Her warrior. Always hers. But not. In her heart, though, there was no other. There never would be.

“Do stop being so dramatic and fanciful, Keeley,” she murmured. “The next thing you know, you’ll be throwing aside the furs covering the window and threatening to hurl yourself onto the snow-covered heath.”

She would laugh, but tears stung her eyelids and she swiped at them to alleviate the burn.

Nay, now was not the time for silly and idyllic dreams. She needed to be a realist and decide what was acceptable to her. No one else. For once, she would place her own wants and desires above others. For if she didn’t see to her happiness, no one else would.

One night in Alaric’s arms.

Once spoken aloud in her mind, she couldn’t push the thought away. It consumed her. It tempted and tantalized her as nothing else ever had.

She’d never even been kissed until Alaric, save the brutal mouth of the laird and she didn’t consider that a kiss. A kiss was something given, and the laird had taken. She had never given him anything willingly.

She pressed her palms to her eyes and plunged her fingers into her hair.

It was too late for her to turn back. It had become more than some hopeless dream. The idea had taken root. It burned so brightly in her mind that she knew she couldn’t go another day under the unbearable strain that existed between her and Alaric.

Tonight it had to end.

Alaric stood and stared moodily out the window into the night. Above, the moon gleamed bright and reflected boldly off the snow-covered terrain. In the distance the loch glistened and shone like silver with nary a ripple to disturb the pristine surface.

’Twas a tranquil sight and yet his insides were in complete turmoil.

His brother’s words whispered to him, an insidious thought that once seeded had taken root and it shamed him that he gave it more thought with each passing day. Take her. Use her. Be rid of this madness.

But he couldn’t. Because he knew that what he felt wasn’t simple lust. What it was, he couldn’t say. It was new and fresh. He was on the cusp of something alarming and exhilarating all at the same time. ’Twas as if he prepared for battle and his blood soared in preparation.

He wanted her, aye. Not a doubt. But he wouldn’t take what wasn’t willingly given. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her pain. Seeing the torment in her eyes had hurt him in a way he hadn’t thought it possible to be hurt by a woman.

The sound of his chamber door opening whirled him around, a blistering set down-poised and ready to fly at whoever dared to enter without knocking.

When he saw Keeley standing in the shadows, uncertainty etched on her features, he forgot to breathe.

“I thought you would be abed,” she said in barely above a whisper. “ ’Tis late. We took to our beds hours ago.”

“And yet here we both stand, unable to sleep. Why is that, Keeley?” he asked softly. “Are we going to continue to deny what it is we both want?”

“Nay.”

He went still. So still that the room went deathly quiet and only the howl of the wind could be heard. Cold rushed through the room, blanketing it in frigid layers. Keeley shivered and gathered her arms around her. She looked so vulnerable that every instinct in him cried out to protect her from harm. To cherish her and lavish on her all the patience and understanding he had in him.

Then he cursed when another blast of cold air rushed through the room. The flame in the hearth flickered and sparked higher, fed by the draft. He hurried to the window to pull the furs down and then went to Keeley and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the chill.

Her heart beat frantically against his chest, and she trembled from head to toe.

“Come over to the bed so you can wrap up in one of the furs while I build up the fire,” he said gently.

Carefully he tugged her away from his chest and led her to his bed. She sat on the edge, tense and nervous as he tucked one of the furs around her body.

Unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head and smoothed his hand over her long tresses. He wouldn’t taste her lips yet. If he started, he wouldn’t stop and she’d freeze.

His hands trembled while he added logs to the fire. He curled and uncurled his fingers in an attempt to dispel the quiver but to no avail. He was shaken to the core and so afraid of making a wrong move that he was nearly paralyzed.

At last he turned to see Keeley watching him with wide eyes from her perch on the bed. He crossed the room and went down on one knee in front of her.

“Are you sure about this, Keeley?”

She reached up to fan her fingers over his lips. She stroked over his mouth and then down his jaw line. “I want you. I can’t deny you—us—any longer. I know ’tis your destiny to marry into the McDonald clan and become laird and ’tis a noble destiny. I’ll not deter you from that end. I want tonight. One night in your arms so that I can hold the memory tight once you’ve gone from this place.”

He caught her hand and dragged it across his mouth, settling his lips into her palm. He kissed the smooth skin and then tucked each fingertip into his mouth, kissing them in turn.

“I want you too, lass. So much I ache. I want to burn the memory of you in my arms into my mind so that it never leaves me no matter how old I may grow.”

She smiled, her eyes glinting with sadness as she cupped his cheek. “Give me tonight so that we make just such a memory for the both of us.”

“Aye, lass. I’ll love you well.”

When he would have gotten to his feet, she put out a hand and he paused on one knee.

“There is something I would say before we go any further.”

He cocked his head, studying her sudden nervousness and the quick intake of her breath.

He smoothed the hair from her face and tangled his fingers in the long tresses in an effort to soothe the worry creasing her brow. “Speak then.”

She looked briefly away before returning her gaze to his. The beauty of her eyes was dampened by worry and … shame.

“ ’Tis important you know this. I was cast from the McDonald clan. They are my family. I was a McDonald born.”

His brow furrowed with confusion as he grappled with what she’d said. A McDonald? He hadn’t given much thought to where he’d ended up after being injured. The whole time was a blur. His brothers hadn’t mentioned how close they’d been to McDonald land when they’d come to take him home.

And she’d been cast out? Anger pricked at him. He touched her chin to stop the silent quiver and nudged upward until she stared him directly in the eye.

“Why, lass? Why would your own kin turn you out?”

“The laird made improper advances toward me when I was but a young girl, barely on the cusp of womanhood. His wife walked in as he tried to rape me, and she cried me whore. I was turned out for trying to seduce the laird.”

Alaric was momentarily speechless. His hand fell away from her chin as his mind grappled with the implications.

“Sweet Jesu,” he whispered.

His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw as he imagined his sweet Keeley, a much younger Keeley, trying to fend off a much older, stronger man. It made him ill.

It made him furious.

“It wasn’t true,” she said in a fierce whisper.

“Nay!” he denied, his hand flying back to caress her cheek. “Of course it wasn’t. I hope you don’t think I thought so even for a moment. I’m furious that you were treated so unjustly and that you paid the sins of the laird. His job is to protect his clan. To be deserving of the mantle of leadership. To prey on a young girl is a betrayal of all he is foresworn to do.”

She closed her eyes as relief washed in a clear line across her face. Alaric’s heart twinged for what she’d endured. But more than that, he had a strong urge to hie himself to McDonald keep and beat Laird McDonald until he was incapable of ever forcing himself on another woman. To think he’d supped with the man in the McCabe hall. He’d welcomed the man on his land as an ally and as a future father through marriage. His lips curled in disgust and his head ached when he realized there was naught to do. He couldn’t set aside an alliance by making an enemy of McDonald.

It was a damnable position to be in.

Determined not to dwell on things beyond his control, he turned his attention to the one thing he could.

He stroked his palm over Keeley’s silken flesh, his thumb lingering over her full lips and to the slight indention at her chin. His fingers stroked down the slim column of her neck to rest on her chest just above the swell of her breasts.