“Aye, I promise.” An easy promise to make. She had little intention of getting into trouble. Next time she tried to escape, she’d do it properly and make no mistakes.
“Ye’ll no’ get anywhere if ye try anything. The walls are well guarded.”
Alana nodded. That she well knew. If she’d even made it down the side of the keep, she hadn’t figured out how to get past the watchmen. She’d have to bide her time and hope an opportunity presented itself though she had little time. War was almost certainly imminent.
***
Tèile watched Alana through narrowed eyes from her spot on the windowsill. She swung her slender legs playfully, long skirts swishing. The girl was planning something again. If only there was more she could do. Unfortunately Alana seemed to have a nose for trouble and if she wanted to put herself in dangerous situations, there was little to be done.
If only they would act upon their attraction. She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed as Alana offered up her wrists to Morgann to be untied. Like Finn, Morgann struggled to undo them and had to use his teeth. Alana’s face blossomed with colour. The pull between them was so strong Tèile could smell it. She simply didn’t understand. What was so hard about giving into one another?
Still she’d bought them a little more time. Morgann’s messenger, Kieran, was right now having a wonderful time with the nymphs. Having lured him in, they were no doubt helping him to indulge in all kinds of carnal delights. No man could resist the tree folk. She propped her chin on a hand and blew out a long breath. At least he was having fun. If these two didn’t hurry up, she was likely to die of boredom.
***
A hand clasped around her wrist, Morgann led Alana to the garderobes.
“Ye need not hold onto me, Morgann,” she protested from behind. “I already said I’d not get into trouble.”
Aye, she had. But he still wasn’t sure he could trust her. Something about the look in her eyes, that faint glimmer of hope, told him she wasn’t finished creating turmoil.
Never mind that she caused such turmoil in him. Her smooth skin against his palm made his gut clench. He tried to wipe the way she stared at him when he’d taken the knots of her bindings in between his teeth from his mind. Those wide eyes and short breaths lingered in his memory.
Had he scared her or was it something else that caused such a reaction? He had frightened her with his anger but she seemed to bounce back from it, ready to lash out with her tongue once more. The thought that, maybe, just maybe, she felt the same burning temptation as he did both terrified and thrilled him. The need to act on their attraction increased.
Releasing her wrist, he remained silent as she brushed past him and closed the door to the garderobes, flicking the briefest of glances his way. He flattened his forehead against the wood and groaned. Just a few days more, he reminded himself. A few days and she’d be back with her father and he would finally be able to relax. With Margot banished or in irons, Glencolum would no longer be at risk. And nor would Alana.
At the moment it seemed the biggest risk to her was him.
The door swung open abruptly and he jolted upright. Hands clasped in front of her, Alana perfected a meek, submissive pose, eyes pleading and bright.
Ach, but it worked. He, the great warrior, felt his knees weaken. It took all his willpower not to drop to the floor and beg to do anything for her. A MacRae bought to his knees by a woman. Well, he wouldn’t be the first. Margot had already done the same to his father.
“Morgann,” She smiled sweetly, “I thank ye for releasing me. Is there any chance of having a bath sent up? I have need of a wash.”
He tensed his jaw. As if he needed the image of Alana bathing in his head. Unable to stop himself, he studied the sweep of her neck, imagined water dripping down it. The thought forced a lump into his throat.
Realising she awaited an answer, he cursed inwardly. “Ye had yer chance yester eve. I cannae spare anyone to tend to ye now. And readying a bath takes too long.”
Alana scowled and took a step past him. Morgann wrapped a hand around her arm, holding her in place. “Where do ye go to, lass?”
“If ye’ll not send for a bath, then I’ll go do it myself. In case ye hadnae noticed, I’m filthy.”
Her words forced him to skim his gaze over her gown. Her adventures had left mud smears on her clothing and face. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and skimmed a thumb across the grimy mark on her forehead.
“Aye, I can see that,” he said gruffly, watching the slight flutter of her throat as she swallowed. The memory of the gentle warmth of her skin under his thumb remained and he clenched his fist. “Ye’ll have to content yerself with a quick wash. Finn already brought ye some clean garments.”