He moved unexpectedly around the bed and dropped down beside her. Palms pressed into the pillow, his arms framed her, chest flat against hers. Her nipples peaked against him at the feel of hard male flesh and his hair tickled her cheek as it fell across her face. A hint of fruity wine lingered in his warm breaths and she blinked as his lips came to her ear. Her hands came up to press him away but somehow ended up fastened to his chest. A heavy pulse against her palm echoed the one in her chest. She shuddered as his breath fanned over her skin.
Firm lips danced over her chin and his tongue darted out to lick at the corner of her mouth. A tingle bolted through her and she forgot to breathe. She went rigid. This isnae how a first kiss should be!
"Ye dinnae know what ye want, Alana,” he whispered. Thrusting himself away, he stood and shook his head. “And I'll no’ fall prey to some wild plan ye've hatched to get under my skin."
"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?
Chapter Five
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.