Highland Thirst (10 page)

Glancing
at the heavy blanket Brona had hung over the window as he sat down, Heming
realized that he was still surprised at how accepting of him the Kerrs were. He
knew the trust of the men was still a little tenuous, but, to his delight,
Brona appeared to fully accept him just as he was. With every step they took
toward Cambrun the feeling that he was walking beside his mate grew stronger.

“Havoc
will be fine,” he said as he helped himself to some of the still warm bread. “Ye
could see that Colin’s wee sister liked the animal.”

“Aye,
and he liked her.” Brona smiled faintly. “I ken that he will be weel cared for,
but I am used to having him about.”

“Ye
will again have him leaving piles of fur all o’er your gowns verra soon.”

Brona
laughed and nodded, but quickly grew very serious. “Aye, once Hervey is gone. I
understand that ye must end the threat to your clan, but Hervey is my cousin—“
She stuttered to a halt when he placed his hand over hers.

The
fact that his slightest touch could affect her so was a little embarrassing.
Since leaving Rosscurrach he had kissed her again, several times, and each time
she had felt far more than her body heat and melt at his touch. Her wits
appeared to do the same and it was always Heming who knew someone was
approaching, ending the kiss before they could be caught acting so wantonly.
Each kiss left her aching for him more than she had before. Brona knew what
that aching meant, what her body wanted from him, and the fact that she was not
terrified by that both stunned and worried her.

Sir
Heming MacNachton was not just some knight she might be able to have a future
with. He was so different from her it made her head spin simply thinking about
it. It was not just the fact that he drank blood, either, or had the fangs to
do so. He could hear better than anyone, could see in the dark like a cat,
could heal so fast she still questioned the truth she had seen with her own
eyes, and he would undoubtedly still look much as he did now when she was bent
and wrinkled. The fact that he would not age while she did was one reason she
knew it was foolish to fall in love with him. Unfortunately her heart did not
seem aware of that one particularly large problem and seemed to be setting
itself right into his elegant hands.

What
she feared now was heartbreak, utter devastation when they finally parted ways.
Such a coward she was, she thought with disgust. Brona was sure many women had
faced such a thing, had even suffered it, and survived. When he held her in his
arms, she felt as though she could conquer the world. If there were even the
smallest chance of holding onto that, would she not be a complete fool not to
try and grab hold of it?

She
inwardly shook her head over her own inability to decide what to do about
Heming and her rapidly growing feelings for him. Brona suspected she had spent
far too many years cowering before Hervey’s rages and had lost whatever daring
and courage she might have once had. Each day they drew nearer to the end of
their journey and she really did not have the time to wrestle with all of her
fears and doubts. Unfortunately, if she decided to be brave and daring and
reach for what she so badly wanted, she was not sure she knew how to do so.

“Brona,”
Heming said, resisting the urge to ask her what she was thinking about so
strenuously that her eyes were a little cloudy, “I will confess that there is a
verra large part of me that wants to cut your cousin up and feed him to the
carrion birds, but there is also a verra good reason aside from that. He
threatens my whole clan. He is part of a group of men who wish to see all
MacNachtons dead—mon, woman, and child. I cannae let him continue on that path
and I see no chance of talking him into stepping off of it before he does more
than what he did to me.”

“And
that was bad enough,” she murmured.

“Aye,
and I wake in a sweat from dreams of him or men like him getting hold of one of
my family.”

She
nodded as she began to eat some of the thick mutton stew the maid had brought
them. “I but weakened for a moment. He is a wretched mon. Cold and cruel. Yet,
every now and then all I can think of is that I have so few kinsmen left. I can
count them on the fingers of one hand. ‘Tis sad that good ones have died yet a
mon like Hervey lingers to make so many miserable.”

“I
also wish him dead for what he has done to ye.”

“Me?”

“Aye.
He has made your life a misery, given ye a fear that ye will be a long time
shaking free of, and beaten ye. From what ye said about his wanting ye to marry
Angus, I think he has also stolen from ye.”

“My
dowry,” she murmured and felt the stab of anger. “I didnae e’en ken I had one.
Hervey certainly has done nothing to try and see me married yet I am two and
twenty. Now I think some of that is because he didnae wish to have to give away
whate’er my dowry is.” She sighed and helped herself to some bread to sop up
the thick sauce of the stew. “I believe I shall just nay think on it any more.
Hervey has set his own fate and ‘tis nay longer my concern.”

“Good.
Now eat and then we can rest so that we are fit and strong to travel tonight.”

Brona
nodded, knowing she needed to eat her fill, for the two nights of traveling
they had already accomplished had shown her that she was not quite as strong as
she had thought she was. So far the journey had offered her a lot to see and
the good company of Heming, but no real adventure or danger. Hervey was hunting
for them, however, and she needed to remain strong enough to fight or escape
him if the need arose.

By
the time they had finished the meal, Brona was yawning. The fact that she was
about to share a bed with Heming, even fully dressed, should have made her
nervous, but she was simply too tired to care. And that was very sad, she
thought with a faint smile as she crawled onto the bed, closing her eyes the
moment she settled her head on the pillow.

Heming
grimaced as he yanked off his boots and climbed onto the bed. Brona muttered
something as he pulled her into his arms but he could tell that she was already
more asleep than awake. He was tempted to take advantage of that, but pushed
the temptation aside. When he made Brona his he wanted her to be wide awake and
fully aware of every kiss, every touch. For now it was enough just to hold her
close as he slept. Before they left the room, however, Heming was determined to
make her fully his, for there might not be another chance to get her alone
before they reached Cambrun.

Brona
smiled as lightly calloused hands stroked her. She was a little surprised that
her dream had grown so explicit considering her lack of experience and
knowledge. Heat flowed through her with every touch of Heming’s hands and she
savored it, drinking it in like the finest of wines. The touch of his warm lips
upon the side of her neck made her shiver with pleasure. She reached back to
thread her fingers through his soft hair even as she tilted her head back to
give him greater access to her throat and murmured her delight when she felt
the scrape of his teeth against her skin.

His
teeth?
a slowly waking part of her mind asked. Brona frowned, certain that she would
not have put that in her lovely dream of sharing a passionate moment with
Heming. It was true that letting him take her blood had made her feel all hot
and needy. But she was still not sure she was comfortable with that need of
his. Brona was fairly sure she would not have dreamt of such.

“Brona,
love, ‘tis time to wake up,” said a familiar deep voice, soft lips moving
against her ear in a way that made her stomach clench with want.

“I
think I may already be awake,” she murmured but did not open her eyes.

Heming
laughed softly and lightly nipped her ear. “Then look at me.”

“Must
I?”

“Aye,
for I wish to kiss ye.”

There
was a soft rumble to his voice that Brona realized was a sign of his desire. It
fed her own desire almost as much as his touch did. Considering her utter lack
of experience with men and desire, she was surprised she could recognize his so
easily and feel it increasing her own.

Slowly
she turned around to face him, making no move to slip free of his embrace. His
golden eyes were dark and warm as he looked at her, the heat in them slipping
into her blood. Brona knew what he wanted, knew she was wrong to want it too.
He spoke no words of love or a future for them. Men did not need any deep
emotion to feel lust. Brona felt deeply, however. Her passion came straight
from her heart.

Give
in,
a voice whispered in her mind as he brushed soft kisses over her face.
Just
once take what ye want.
And, oh, how she wanted, she thought as he teased
her lips with soft, nibbling kisses. It was the voice of temptation whispering
in her head and she knew it. Brona also knew she should ignore it as it was the
sort of thing that destroyed all too many women.

When
he slid his tongue into her mouth, stroking the inside in a way that had her
trembling from the strength of her desire, she wrapped her arms around his neck
and held on tight. Brona knew it was probably a big mistake, would probably
cause her a lot of pain in the future, but she was going to give in to
temptation. There had been so little joy in her life since the death of her
parents and she was hungry for some, no matter how fleeting that joy might
prove to be. If she had to do a penance for it, she decided it would be a small
price to pay for all the sweet, heady memories this beautiful man would give
her.

“Brona,”
Heming groaned as he kissed her throat, “do ye ken what I want?”

“Aye,
I ken it,” she whispered, not surprised to hear the tremor in her voice. “I
want it too, although I will confess that I am nay all that sure of what
it
might be.”

Even
as Heming began to unlace her gown, he said, “It is me deep inside ye, love.”

She
swallowed hard, amazed that such blunt talk should make her womb clench with
delight. “Will that include a lot of kissing and touching?”

“Och,
aye, loving, as much as I can bear ere I go mad with the wanting of ye.”

“That
sounds lovely.”

“Are
ye sure ye are awake, love, and aware of what ye are agreeing to?”

“Verra
awake and verra aware.”

Slowly
tugging her gown down, Heming followed the line of her collarbone with soft
kisses and light sweeps of his tongue. “I just dinnae want ye to have any
regrets.”

“Do
ye ken? I ne’er thought a mon would work so hard to talk a lass out of what he
wants.” Brona spoke with a touch of humor in her strangely husky voice, but she
did want him to stop trying to make her think twice about her decision. She
feared he just might succeed in making her change her mind.

Heming
grinned against her skin and then finished tugging off her gown. As he began to
unlace her shift, keeping them both dazed with kisses, he decided she did know
what he wanted and what she wanted. If she did suffer any embarrassment or
guilt after the loving ended, he felt he would be able to soothe it away. In
the way she gasped and trembled, even in the heady scent of arousal on her soft
skin, he could tell that she wanted him nearly as much as he wanted her. He
wanted far more than her desire, however, but he would work for that prize
later. Every instinct he had, from both sides of his family, was demanding that
he take possession of her now.

The
moment he had her stripped of her clothing, he sat up just long enough to throw
off his own. Even in the short time that took him he could see that her desire
cooled a little. Heming quickly returned to her arms, feeling himself tremble
with the strength of his need for her as their skin touched for the first time.
She fit him perfectly and her every rise and hollow called to him to touch and
kiss the soft skin he could feel pressed so close to his.

Brona
gasped as she felt the warmth of his skin press against her. Her hands trembled
as she reached out to put her arms around him. A little tentatively she stroked
his broad smooth back, savoring the feel of taut warm skin stretched over hard
muscle. Feeling him tremble beneath her hands made her bolder, reassuring her
that he liked her touch as much as she liked to touch him. Holding him like
this felt so good she feared she might do something very foolish like swoon.

When
his kisses reached her breasts, she tensed and then shuddered from the force of
the desire that tore through her body. Brona arched into the caress of his
tongue, whispering her pleasure. When he slowly covered one hard, aching nipple
with his mouth and suckled, she arched up off the bed as fire shot through her
to set a blaze in her womb.

Heming
feasted upon her full breasts using his hands, mouth, tongue, and even teeth to
make her writhe beneath him. It was difficult to keep his wits about him as she
turned to pure fire beneath his touch, but some small still sane part of him
kept reminding him that she was a virgin, that he needed to be absolutely sure
she was ready for him before he plunged into her hot depths as he ached to do.
Sliding his hand down her flat belly, he slipped it between her thighs. For one
brief moment she tensed and he feared he might have shocked her right out of
her desire. Then as he lightly stroked her, her body softened and heated
beneath his stroking fingers.