To Steal a Highlander's Heart (7 page)

"Do
I?" she forced out of a tight throat.

"Do
ye what?"

"Get
under yer skin?"

His
jaw twitched and he backed away from the bed. "I'll no' play these games
anymore, lass. Ye'll stay here, unharmed, and be returned in exactly the same
condition as ye arrived in.
Once
yer father has agreed to my
terms."

"Which
are?"

Morgann
lowered himself into the carved oak chair by the fire and began unlacing his
boots. Alana watched his nimble fingers with fascination. What would they feel like
on her bare skin? She pressed her lips together. Lord, had she wanted him to
kiss her after all?

He
glanced up at her. "Ye need not know. If all goes to plan, ye'll be safely
installed back in yer keep before long, none the wiser."

Alana
blew out a frustrated breath. All these secrets. It was so unlike Morgann.
Hadn't they once shared everything? With a four year age gap, they'd become
good friends as soon as Alana was able to walk. Morgann's mother loved to tell
of how Morgann doted on her even as a babe. How had things gone so wrong?

She
observed him as he strolled around the bed, his walk confident and sure. If
only she felt so assured. That deep intent gaze latched on to hers briefly as
he leaned over and blew out the candle.

“Sleep
now, lass,” she heard him say softly.

Had
she imagined the longing tone to his voice?

With
a grimace, Morgann stretched his aching arms. Ach, sleeping on a straw pallet
was nothing like sleeping on a feather bed. His bed. The bed that Alana
occupied. Scraping a hand through his hair, he pushed to sitting and peered at
the bed. Only bare feet peeked out over the edge, small and pink. A strange
urge to wrap his hands around them and warm them struck. He glanced over at the
fire, noting it died during the night. It was likely Alana was cold. Remorse
assailed him.

He
clambered to his feet and extended his arms, barely covering a groan as his
muscles protested. It was her fault. He followed the line of sheets and sighed
as he took in the sight of bound wrists. She slept on one side, hair splayed
across the pillow, mouth slightly ajar. Her chest moved with each deep
inhalation, the gentle curves teasing him with their smoothness. Hand rasping
across his jaw, he took a step closer and let his gaze linger on her parted
lips.

In
sleep, she looked so innocent. He smiled to himself. But innocent she was not.
A temptress in disguise that one. Though mayhap she did not realise quite how
tempting she was. Her rash words last night had very nearly broken through his self-control.
He could never do it and live with himself, but the primitive part of him ached
to take her and make her his.

She
moaned quietly and tossed, and he leaped back, only relaxing when she remained
asleep. He studied her once more. Was it just her beauty that enticed him?
Alana had always been a pretty lass, though he'd not paid much attention to it.
Only after he'd been banished did he begin to regret that they would never
reach the point of marriage, something everyone, including them, assumed would
happen.

Her
spirit was to be respected to be sure. Though he could do without it right now.
What was to be a simple kidnapping was becoming quite the trial. But he saw
something of himself in her. That determination and admirable loyalty to her
clan. He understood that. Mayhap that was why the pull to her was so strong.

Shaking
his head at himself, he backed away, slipped on both boots and walked to the door,
careful to open and close it quietly. If she had slept as badly as he, she
needed rest. He paused outside to lace his boots and listened. Would she attempt
another escape? He didn’t think she was foolish enough to try and scale the
wall again. He straightened and bolted the door, running a hand through his
hair again in an effort to tidy it. A wash and clean clothes had to wait until
he found someone to mind Alana.

Morgann
nodded a greeting to his men as he strode across the top floor and followed the
spiral stairs to the hall. Most of the men were gathered for breakfast,
occupying the two long tables that had been set up for the morning meal.
Shouting and the clatter of knives filled the large hall and Morgann grinned at
the sight. Many good men sat at his father's tables. He would surely do everything
in his power to protect them.

His
gaze settled on Margot, sat at the top table, her lady-in-waiting at her side.
He narrowed his eyes as they conversed, heads together. Neither of them could
be trusted. While he did all he could to watch her and keep her from his father's
side, she was still the laird’s wife and there was a limit to his power. Somehow
she ensured his father stayed bedridden.

His
closest friend, Finn, told him he was foolish to blame his father's ill health
on Margot but he knew it was her.

Knowing
eyes connected with his and a sly smile skimmed across Margot's lips.

Without
a doubt, the woman wanted his father dead. If he had succeeded all those years
ago, he would have had solid proof. As it was, none believed him, not even his
father. But his father was so blinded by her beauty and seductive ways.

Aware
he was glowering, he stomped across the hall, briefly patting a hand to Finn's
shoulder as he sat at the end of the table.

Finn
dipped his head in greeting and grinned. "Good morrow, laird."

"Good
morrow."

"Sleep
well?"

Morgann
rolled his eyes as he caught the lewd edge to Finn's grin. "Aye, well
enough," he replied curtly.

“And
how is our guest?" Margot leaned over, drink in hand as she pressed her
breast into his arm.

"I
know not."

"And
how could that be? Ye slept in her chambers all night did ye not?” She smiled
seductively. “Or mayhap ye did little sleeping?”

Morgann
tried to shift away but she moved closer, thigh brushing his through her gown.
"I was there to ensure she didnae attempt an escape, naught more."

"Are
ye expecting me to believe ye spent the night with a pretty lass and did
naught? Or mayhap she rejected ye?” Margot laughed lightly.

“Rejected
ye?” Finn interrupted. “Surely not. Morgann has never been rejected by a lass!”

“Naught
happened,” Morgann said firmly as he snatched a chunk of bread from the platter
in front of him.

“Well,”
Margot declared, eyeing him over the edge of her wine cup, “no one will believe
it. Ye might as well have taken yer pleasure for she’s all but ruined now.”

“Naught
happened,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “And anyone caught saying
otherwise will have me to deal with.” He glared at Margot and she backed away,
sniffing dismissively.

Morgann
turned his attention to his meal though he had little appetite. He satisfied
himself with a long drink of ale. Being sat next to Margot often stole his appetite
but he suspected it was another woman who robbed him of it this day. Draining
his cup, he swiped his mouth with the back of a hand and caught Finn studying
him.

"Ye
want something?"

Finn
chuckled. "Nay, laird, naught."

"Then
cease staring at me like some lovesick lassie."

The
smile on his friend's face expanded at this. "I dinnae think I'm the one
behaving like a lovesick lassie."

Morgann
groaned inwardly. If Finn recognised his idiotic behaviour then mayhap everyone
else had too. Though Finn knew him better than anyone.

Instead
of confronting him, knowing full well that Finn took great delight in riling
him, he came to his feet, bending to address him briefly. "I've to see to
my duties. Will ye check in on our guest? I dinnae trust her and, in the light
of day, she may try something else." He turned and paused, a hand to
Finn’s shoulder. "And dinnae let Margot near her," he murmured.

Finn
rolled his eyes and nodded. "Aye, of course. I'll no' let the little lass
get the better of me, never ye fear."

Morgann
ignored the veiled insult, well used to Finn's antics. "Aye. Good day to
ye then. I'll come check on our guest shortly."

Pushing
past the servants clearing away the food, Morgann stepped out of the arched
doorway and stood on the bridge that connected the courtyard to the castle. He
sucked in a long breath and studied the clear skies with a frown.

An
odd storm indeed, the one that caught them both unawares. Almost as if the
fates intended for them to be stuck out in the hills. Shaking away the foolish
notion, he marched across the bridge and took the stairs up to the ramparts,
two at a time. A fresh breeze blew over the top of the wall bringing a sense of
promise.

Something
was to change. He could feel it. Hopefully his missive would be in Laird
Dougall's hands before long and he now had no choice but to admit the truth to
his father. Finally Glencolum would be free of the witch’s conniving schemes
and his clan truly safe.

***

Alana
moaned as Morgann wrapped his thick hands around her wrists, pinning them down as
he assaulted her mouth again. Mindlessly she rocked her body up into him, the
warmth of his mouth drowning out everything. Only heat and hardness and heavy
breathing existed.

She
opened her eyes and a blanket of red greeted her. She scowled and tried to tug
her hands free from Morgann’s grip but he refused to release her. As her tired
eyes cleared, she realised Morgann had gone. And she wasn’t in her bed at home.
Alana struggled to rub the sleep from her eyes but something yanked on her
wrists.

Glancing
down, she spied the sheets tied around her hands and groaned. A dream. It had all
been a dream. And the unfamiliar red fabric was the canopy of Morgann’s bed. At
least she assumed it was his bed. She’d never been in these chambers before but
a masculine scent lingered on the sheets.

She
remained a prisoner of Morgann MacRae.

Sweet
Mary, but that dream had been vivid. She blew her tangled hair from her face,
hoping to cool her skin a little. Ach, dreaming of her captor was no good
thing. She needed to remain detached if she was to find a way out. And she had
very little time. With only a day’s ride between the castles, her father could
well be on his way now. Though she imagined he would want to gather his men
first.

Footsteps
sounded outside her door and came to a stop. She bolted upright and attempted
to comb back her hair from her face with bound hands. Her heart sank as Finn
stepped into the room, a huge smile on his face.

“Good
morrow, my lady.”

Alana
raised a brow and went to fold her arms over her chest, only for her bindings
to prevent her from doing so. “Ye need not play the chivalrous nobleman with
me, Finn. I know ye are as discourteous as they come.”

“Ach,
Alana, ye wound me.” He gave her an injured look.

She
studied the fair giant of a man, trying to resist the twitching of her lips.
He’d changed little over the years, still tall and broad with long hair and a slightly
bent nose. Not that it marred his strong features. Men like Finn took pride in
their battle wounds and women seemed to admire them just as much. He was indeed
handsome, so how was it Finn didn’t inspire imaginings like Morgann did?

“Are
ye going to behave yerself now, lass?” He stepped forward and drew a hand from
behind his back, revealing a bundle of clothing. “I have a clean gown and plaid
for ye. Thought ye might need them after yer adventures yester eve seeing as ye
never had a chance to change.”

Taken
aback by his thoughtfulness, Alana opened her mouth and clamped it shut. Finn
always had been tender hearted, even when she’d known him as a boy. Why couldn’t
she hunger after him instead of the inconsiderate, brutish laird?

"Aye,
well, I thank ye," she muttered and, realising how petulant she sounded,
she offered a reluctant smile. "'Tis thoughtful of ye."

Finn
placed the garments into her hands and sat on the end of the bed. "If I
release ye, ye'll no' try to escape will ye?"

Alana
glanced at the slightly ajar door then at Finn and finally at her wrists. She couldn't
see herself getting very far past the large warrior. Mayhap she could appeal to
his soft side once she was dressed. And she longed to remove her grimy gown. It
had been soaked and caked in mud and dragged against the stone of the castle. No
wonder her bit to seduce Morgann had failed.

"Aye,
I'll no' attempt anything."

Nodding
with satisfaction, Finn placed her wrists in his lap and began tugging apart
the sheets. "God's blood, Morgann really didnae want ye escaping, did
he?" he exclaimed as he battled with the knot.

"I
think I made it tighter when I tried to wriggle out of them."

Cursing,
Finn brought the bonds to his mouth, using his teeth to pry the knots apart.

Alana
jumped as the door swung back suddenly, thudding on its hinges, and Morgann
stepped in, his expression dark. "What the devil is going on here?"

Finn
dropped her wrists. "Just seeing to the lass, my laird."

Alana
gulped but Finn showed no sign of nervousness at Morgann's ferocious
expression. Instead, his smile widened.

"Get
out!" Morgann barked. "I'll see to her."

"Ye
willnae!" Alana exclaimed, a tremor of apprehension making her limbs weak.

She
did not want to be left alone with Morgann, not when he looked ready to tear
her, or mayhap Finn, apart. And certainly not after that all too real dream. Would
she even be able to look at his mouth without picturing it on hers?

Finn
patted her hands and removed them carefully from his lap. "All will be
well, lass. Will it not, laird?"

Morgann's
scowl deepened, eyes blazing. "'Twill be once ye get back to yer duties.”

Hands
held up in surrender, Finn chuckled and came to his feet. "Aye, aye, I'll
be gone. Though ye'll remember ye told me to watch over her."

Arms
folded across his chest, Morgann glowered. "Well I'm here now so yer
relieved. And I didnae tell ye to bloody undress her."

"I
wasnae undressing her. But I can see there's no arguing with ye, Morgann."
Finn dipped his head briefly to Alana. "Good day to ye, lass."

Finn
closed the door carefully behind him and Alana watched Morgann warily. Strange
how the daggered look he sent her caused a tumult of sensations, stretching
from fear to excitement. Dark hair grazed his eyes as he narrowed them, lips
pulled into a grim smile. Part of her longed to reach out to him, pull him down
and remove that expression. And the only way she could think of doing that was
by kissing him. The need burned through her as she studied his mouth.