Highland Thirst (31 page)

Tearlach
had spent most of that night fighting to keep himself from slipping his hands
around her waist and up to cup her soft full breasts, or dip into the braies
she wore to find her warm, damp core. While he’d managed to control his hands
and make them behave, his mind had run rampant. In his imagination he’d done
all of that and more at least twenty times that evening. He’d even found himself
imagining stopping the horse, taking her to the ground beside it, and claiming
her in all ways, even marking her with his bite and mating with her as his
people did.

That’s
when Tearlach had realized just how much trouble he was in. He had liked the
woman from the start, wanted her just as long, but had become more enthralled
by her with every passing moment they’d spent together. He was already so
attached he found it difficult thinking of the time when he would have to leave
her behind, and though he wouldn’t even think the word in his mind, he feared
what he was experiencing for the woman was love.

Tearlach
had spent what little time he hadn’t been ravishing her in his thoughts,
struggling with what to do about his feelings for her. If it had just been a
matter of liking and wanting her, there wouldn’t have been a problem. He would
have taken her in the cave when she’d finally come in from the clearing and
cuddled up next to him...but it
was
more than that. Caring for her as he
did, Tearlach was reluctant to claim her when doing so would be so dangerous
for her. How could he drag her into the battle now raging around his family? It
was just small skirmishes so far, the kidnapping of himself and his cousin and
various other attacks, but he feared soon it would be all-out war. Their
enemies would try to wipe out his clan out of fear. Tearlach wouldn’t claim
Lucy simply to see her die. She would be better off without him, meeting and
falling in love with a normal mortal man and living a peace-filled life.

That
had been his decision on the matter. So, he had managed to keep from touching
and kissing her anywhere but in his own mind. But it had been damned trying and
made him irritable and short tempered. He feared he may have hurt her tender
feelings a time or two with his snappishness and attempts to keep her at a
distance as much as possible, and while he regretted that, it was probably for
the best, too.

“Tearlach?”

He
glanced down as she twisted in the saddle to peer at him, and—dark as it was—he
could see her scowl at his inattention.

“Is
that Rosscurrach?” she asked, gesturing toward the distant castle.

“Aye.”
He turned the horse to the west and set it moving again. “‘Tis too late to do
aught tonight. We’ll take shelter until dusk. Then ye can explain how I can be
unlocking his chains and I’ll go find me cousin.”

Much
to his relief, she didn’t argue the point, but simply leaned back against him.
Tearlach urged the horse in the direction of the old abandoned bothy he knew
was nearby.

Lucy
woke abruptly, her eyes opening on the dark outline of the man curled beside
her in the small space. Tearlach was sound asleep if she were to judge by his
breathing. However, while she wasn’t sure how long she’d slept since their
arrival, she’d slept through most of their journey that night and was now wide
awake. She was not going to sleep any more.

Sighing,
she turned onto her back and peered up at the splinters of light creeping in
from overhead. There wasn’t much, not enough to harm Tearlach, or even light up
the area much more than to make his outline visible, but she was grateful for
what little bit of light managed to make its way through the cracks in the
wooden trapdoor above.

Lucy
didn’t like it here. The caves had been one thing, but this small six foot by
six foot cell carved out of the dirt beneath the bothy was awful. She felt like
she was in a dirt-lined coffin.

Grimacing
at the thought, Lucy sat up on the hard packed dirt and moved to lean against
the wall, hoping the change of position would make her feel less
claustrophobic. It didn’t help much and she stayed there for only a few moments
before getting to her feet. Moving as silently as she could, she stepped around
Tearlach to the rickety ladder that leaned against the wall by the trapdoor.
While Lucy already knew Tearlach was a heavy sleeper, she had no interest in
learning just
how
deep a sleeper he was by waking him.

Movements
slow and cautious, she climbed up the ladder until her head bumped lightly
against the wooden covering above. Lucy then reached up and pressed lightly on
the closed trapdoor. It immediately started to lift under the gentle pressure
and she continued upward, until she could crawl out into the small stone
building atop the hole in the ground. She then eased the rickety trapdoor back
into place and sat back to peer about.

Dawn
had been streaking the sky by the time they’d reached the bothy, but it had
still been dark enough that she hadn’t been able to make out much when they’d
entered the small stone hut the night before. Tearlach had left her on Trinket’s
back as he’d led the mare inside, then had been forced to lead her down the
ladder into the hole as if she were blind. Now she reached out and ran a hand
over Trinket’s leg as she peered about the shelter.

With
daylight creeping through the door, she could see that it was small and
appeared very old. She thought it must be a hut shepherds had once slept in
while watching over their sheep, but doubted it had been used for much of late.
It certainly showed no signs of recent habitation.

Tearlach
had told her as he’d led her down the ladder that one of his people had dug the
pit where he presently slept beneath this bothy. Apparently there were no caves
in the area where they might take cover and in such areas his people had made
their own provisions for rest stops while traveling.

It
suddenly occurred to Lucy that while his people were said to be stronger and
faster and fearsome in battle, they were really more fragile than non-vampires
in some ways, at least in their need to avoid sunlight. Though, when she’d
asked him about the effect of sunlight on his kind during the first part of
that night’s ride, he’d said some of his kind
could
stand the sun.
However, it hadn’t sounded like many could, or for long. He had also mentioned
that there were mortals among their clan to guard them during daylight.

Trinket
shifted restlessly and eased a little closer to her, seeming to want attention.
Lucy ran her hand affectionately over the beast again, then got to her feet and
moved to the hole where at one time there would have been a door. She stood
slightly to the side of the entrance to peer out at the grassy hill and be sure
there was no one around, and then eased forward to stand in the sun.

Breathing
deeply of the fresh air, Lucy peered over the area, but was unable to see the
river she was sure they’d traveled past shortly before arriving here. That was
probably for the best, she supposed. Tearlach would no doubt be furious if he
woke to find she’d slipped out to bathe. The man had been testy and cranky
since the incident in the clearing.

Lucy
bit her lip and peered back toward the trapdoor. Tearlach’s behavior since
those heated moments in the clearing was causing her both confusion and hurt.
While he’d been passionate and loving in the clearing, in the few short minutes
it had taken her to join him, he’d seemed to have done an abrupt about-face.

Tearlach
hadn’t said a word on her entering other than to give a grunt to help her find
him in the dark when she’d whispered his name. And while he’d reached out and
pulled her down against his chest to sleep for the day, he hadn’t continued
with what they’d started in the clearing, or even given her a peck on the cheek
to wish her good night, he’d simply pressed her head to his chest and muttered,
“Sleep.”

Thinking
that he may be sore from the burn the sun had given him, Lucy hadn’t worried
too much at that point, but she had when his gruff and surly behavior had
continued the next night when they’d broken camp. It would have been hard to
miss the fact that he was suddenly touching her as little as possible, and went
as stiff as a board in the saddle when she brushed against him. He also hadn’t
offered her a kiss, or even a reassuring touch since then. Worse still, the
long intimate talks they’d previously shared in the dungeon and on their
journey here had died out completely. He hadn’t spoken at all except in
response to her questions and then his answers had been mostly grunts or short,
surly replies that had not encouraged conversation. Lucy had got the message
and given up trying to talk to him.

She
didn’t understand what had caused this sudden change in him, but feared perhaps
her wanton behavior had turned him from her. Perhaps he had decided she was not
worth his trouble. For her, that idea had turned what had been a beautiful and
exciting experience into a cheap, dirty encounter that made her cringe with
shame.

Unfortunately,
even her shame didn’t stop Lucy from wanting to repeat the experience. She
still yearned for his kisses, her very flesh aching for his touch and that had
made the ride torment. She’d suffered his body behind her, his smell enveloping
her, his breath on the back of her neck and her ear, and had craved a repeat of
the experience. It had been unbearable, untenable, and had made her incredibly
tense and unhappy until she felt emotionally drained and had fallen asleep
before him.

Fortunately,
their arrival at Rosscurrach meant she could avoid another night of such
hellish tension...at least until they freed his cousin, Heming, and fled the area.
Perhaps even then she might be able to avoid it since there were now three of
them and they would need another horse. If Heming was in a bad way as Tearlach
had been the night they’d escaped, he would be unable to ride alone and
Tearlach would have to ride with him, leaving her free of being so close yet
unable to touch him.

Shifting
restlessly, Lucy glanced back toward the trapdoor again, wanting to return to
the hole to cuddle up next to him and just listen to him breathe. A yearning
filled her at the idea, but she forced herself impatiently back to peer out of
the hut. The hillside looked the same as it had the last time she’d looked and
the same way it would the next time, she was sure. She was going to drive
herself mad bouncing her gaze between the trapdoor and the empty hillside. She
needed to get out. To do something.

Raising
her head rebelliously, Lucy moved out of the hut and started down the slope
toward the woods below. She would go for a walk to help pass the time. She
would search for the river, perhaps take a swim, and hopefully find some
berries to eat along the way. It was better than standing there in the hut,
yearning for someone who so obviously did not want her in return.

Pausing
at the edge of the woods, Lucy turned in a slow circle until her gaze found the
distant Rosscurrach castle. She stared silently at the imposing structure where
Tearlach’s cousin was being held prisoner.

Once
they had rescued Heming, Tearlach intended to see her to court to have the king
tend to Carbonnel. No doubt he would leave her then and she could stop twisting
herself up over a man who so obviously didn’t care for her. Mind you, that was
only if they managed to save Heming and Tearlach didn’t allow his foolish pride
to get himself recaptured.

Grimacing
to herself, Lucy turned and continued into the woods. Her eyes were
automatically scanning the area for edible berries or something else that might
ease her empty stomach, but her thoughts were on her fears for Tearlach. He
seemed to think that she could describe how to unlock the chains and he would
march merrily into Rosscurrach and be able to do it.

Foolish
man. He probably wouldn’t even make it to the dungeons or wherever it was that
they were holding Heming. While Tearlach was wearing Carbonnel colors, he spoke
with a Scottish burr. She was sure he wouldn’t even make it past the gate. She
on the other hand...

Lucy
bit her lip and raised her head, peering through the trees toward the castle
again.

So
long as she didn’t speak and give away her English accent, everyone would just
assume she was a maid. A big strong man might be noticed no matter the garb he
wore, but a puny woman wouldn’t draw more than a passing glance. As such, she
could probably slip into the castle and have Heming out and back to the cave before
Tearlach woke up.

Well,
Lucy acknowledged, at least not long after that. Heming was probably no more
capable of going about in daylight than Tearlach was and they would have to
wait until night fell before attempting an escape. At any rate, she could have
him back here shortly after sunset. Shortly enough that she felt sure Tearlach
would still be in the hut, probably cursing her for disappearing.

Her
thoughts and footsteps halted as she became aware of the distant sound of
someone singing. The voice was a woman’s, high and clear, and she wondered
suddenly just how close the bothy was to the village. The castle had looked a
good distance off, perhaps an hour’s walk, but the village may have been
nearer.

Tilting
her head, Lucy turned slowly until she located where the song was coming from,
then moved cautiously in that direction. A few moments later she was peering
over a bush at a small clearing by the river she’d been looking for in the
hopes of bathing. It appeared she would not be doing so today; the water was
already occupied. A woman stood, naked and hip deep in the water, singing as
she bathed.