To Steal a Highlander's Heart(26)

Even though his body screamed for more.

Nails dug into his neck as she squirmed against him, breasts prodding into his chest. He tasted her once more, a deep lingering kiss before drawing back. It near killed him but somehow he managed to place a second, more chaste kiss on the corner of her lips and relinquish his grip on the towel.

She sighed—in disappointment?—as he broke the connection. He was still close enough to see the bloom in her cheeks dissipate, to view the glossy succulence of her mouth. How wrong he’d been. One kiss would never be enough.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he retreated a pace. A simple movement, but it made his chest ache and his body cool rapidly. Alana offered a little half-smile of understanding. The woman really did know how to read him.

“Will ye be locking me up again?” she asked suddenly.

Well if she’d intended to soften him toward her, she’d succeeded. “Nay, if ye swear ye’ll no’ put yerself in harm’s way again, ye can have free roam of the keep.”

“I thank ye, Morgann. I’ll no’ get into trouble, I swear it.”

He was going to regret this. He tightened his grip on the back of his neck before releasing it. “I’ve duties to see to. Will ye manage yer gown on yer own?”

“Aye, of course.”

“Good. Fine. Well… good day to ye, Alana.” Morgann dropped his head into a formal bow and twisted away before he changed his mind.

He smacked a palm against the cool stone after he pulled the door shut behind him, the sharp sting doing little to discharge his frustration. One kiss. What a fool. He only hoped Laird Dougall would be on his doorstep soon. How much longer he could resist Alana was anyone’s guess.

***

Alana dropped heavily onto the bed. How she had even remained standing when Morgann had broken off the kiss she didn’t know but somehow she’d managed it. Fingertips to her lips, she stared, unseeing, out of the window.

Sweet Mary, what a kiss. Her first kiss. Were all kisses like that? She’d been toying with fire when she’d begged him to wash her hair. Something about having a rough highlander playing maid had amused her and he deserved some hardship after everything he had done, but she hadn’t realised quite where it would go. If she said it was all part of a game, a way of bargaining for more freedom, would that lessen the memory of the kiss?

But it was no game. Not for either of them. Her naïve idea of seduction never ran as deep as that kiss had. Morgann’s mouth on hers, his tongue exploring every part of her, now etched into her mind. And in her heart…?

Indeed, Morgann MacRae had probably captured a little bit of that too.

She ran her fingers through her damp hair, sighed and got to her feet. The cold touch of water against her skin as she cleaned the remnants of her adventures from her arms and face did little to dampen the heat lingering in her body. Yet again, she wished things were different. If only her father had never accused Morgann of theft. If only she'd been braver and gone to his defence. Emotions battled within. Morgann capturing her could only lead to more heartache and strife but if he hadn't, she never would have discovered that the friendship between them had blossomed into attraction. An attraction so strong she barely comprehend it.

But attraction was not enough. The lad she'd known had to lie somewhere beneath that rough exterior. He revealed glimpses but mayhap he was buried too deep. With her father—and clan—in danger, giving into a desire that held little promise was pointless.

Alana dressed quickly, the chill of the wind through the open window against her damp hair making her shiver. She might as well make the most of the little freedom she'd been granted. Mayhap she would find a way out. Aye, she'd promised she’d not get into trouble but she never made any promises about not escaping.

Briskly tying her hair into a braid, she tossed it over her shoulder and straightened her red plaid. Hopefully Morgann was too busy with his duties and she'd not have to face him quite yet but she was hungry. She slipped on a pair of leather slippers that had been left for her. They were slightly too large but would do her well enough.

Concluding she was a ready as she'd ever be, she pressed open the door and peered around. No guard awaited her, no one demanded to know what she was doing, so she slipped out and made her way down to the hall.

The morning meal was long over, the tables cleared away and Alana patted her empty stomach with sympathy as it growled. Most of the men were likely seeing to their duties and only a few servants lingered in the hall, sweeping the rushes and wiping down the long tables.

Margot lounged in one corner, spread across a bench, some embroidery hanging limply from one hand as she rested an arm across her eyes. Alana frowned. Did she not have anything that needed seeing to? Having effectively taken on her mother’s role since the age of thirteen, Alana knew how much work running a keep took. And with her husband sick, Margot should have been at his side.