“’Tis a novel approach,” Liam said, coming to stand by his side.
“What?” Malcolm kicked a stone through the dirt, sending up a cloud of dust.
“Winning the lass’s heart with harsh words.” Liam chuckled and placed his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “’Twill be interesting to see how this new strategy fares.”
“She vexed me.”
“Did she? How so?”
“She wishes to arm herself with dirk and bow. Next she’ll be asking for a claymore.”
“A dirk? Every female in our clan carries one hidden somewhere upon her person, and you refused her? Why, Malcolm?”
“’Tis a long story. I have no’ told you all there is to tell.”
“Ah, I see.” Liam chuckled. “Well, you dinna have time to tell me now. While you ply your lady with insults, others take a more conventional approach.” He nodded toward the keep.
Malcolm growled low in his throat and pulled his shirt back on. Alethia stood poised upon the bottom step to the great hall, a young swain with a handful of wildflowers before her. ’Twas an effort to refrain from running. Even so, his strides ate up the distance between them.
“Do you no’ have some duty to perform?” Malcolm snapped at the weaver’s oldest son.
“I was only giving milady—”
“Now be on your way.” Snatching the bouquet from the man, Malcolm scowled at her. “You will no’ accept flowers from any other man.”
“They aren’t flowers.” She grabbed the plants from his hand and shook them under his nose, dislodging a shower of dirt to rain down upon his chest. “These are the plants I need to make the medicine for the weaver’s youngest child.” Pausing, she studied the late blooms in her hand. “OK, some of this is floral, but not in the way you’re thinking.” Another shower of dirt hit him. “I have news for you. I will accept flowers from anyone I want. In case you didn’t hear me before, listen carefully now. You are not the boss of me.”
What is a bossamee? A final layer of grit had settled over him. Why, in the middle of being vexed beyond reason, did he feel like laughing? He fought the urge to kiss her silent. “Och, woman. I dinna want to bicker.”
“No? What do you want?”
“Faith, lass.” He brushed some of the soil from his shirt. “I would have your faith that I am able to keep you safe.” Stepping closer, he asked, “What need have you for a wee dagger when you have me to protect you?”
“Oh, Malcolm.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you can protect me. I saw how good you are with that sword, but you can’t be with me every minute of every day.”
“Nay? The notion holds great appeal.” Malcolm placed his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. Her lips parted slightly, as if opening for him. Desire pulsed through his veins. His line of vision narrowed to the rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing grew more rapid. She wanted him. He was sure of it.
He drew her close and kissed her. She moaned and put her arms around his neck, pressing her soft curves against him. Malcolm’s blood caught fire and rushed straight to his groin. He deepened the kiss, forgetting all but the way she fit so perfectly in his arms and the sweetness of her lips.
Kissing Lady Alethia could easily become his favorite pastime. Aye, that and goading her until her lovely cheeks bloomed with color. He tightened his hold and concentrated on coaxing her mouth open with his tongue.
Lord, the man could kiss. Afraid her knees would buckle, Alethia put her arms around Malcolm’s neck. Seeing him half naked and glistening with sweat certainly hadn’t helped matters. He was definitely a feast for the eyes. She couldn’t press herself close enough to him. Her insides filled with delicious heat when he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, and she forgot where she was and why he’d ticked her off so badly.
Lost in sweet sensation, it took several seconds before she became aware of a small body inserting itself between them. Hunter pushed to separate her from Malcolm’s embrace. She broke the kiss and tried to slow her breathing back to normal. Remembering where they were, her face heated.
Several people had stopped what they were doing to watch. Women were staring at her and whispering to one another behind their hands. Mortified, she muttered, “You can’t just hold and kiss me like this right here in the middle of the bailey.”
“Nay?” Malcolm leaned in and whispered back, “Where might I hold and kiss you like this then?”
His wicked smile scrambled her insides. She fought to gain control over her raging hormones. She couldn’t fall for Malcolm. He was from a different century, and who knew how long she’d be here? Straightening her spine, she replied, “You know what I mean.” She took Hunter’s hand and headed up the stairs to the door of the keep. “You’re such a Neanderthal.”