Highland Knight (Medieval Erotic Romance) (The One Knight Collection) (2 page)

A
rowdy chorus of approval rumbled through the hall, shaking the candelabras that
hung from the rafters. Anna attempted to keep her expression neutral but her
apprehension must have revealed itself as Niall snaked his hand over hers,
linking his rough fingers with her smooth ones. She fought the temptation to
yank her hand away, aware that everyone’s eyes were upon them, and risked a
glance at him.

Niall
nodded carefully at her, as if trying to explain that he understood her
trepidation, and she frowned, completely thrown by this caring gesture. He
noticed her scowl and his pale eyes hardened. He kept hold of her hand but,
instead of continuing to hold her softly, he gripped it tightly, reminding her
of his possession of her.

When
the cheers of the men had finally died down, they sat for the feast. Niall
served her as if she was at court and she couldn’t resist a snide comment.

“Such
manners. I’d not have expected a Sinclair to know how to treat a lady.”

He
eyed her with a raised brow. “And I’d not have expected a Mackenzie lass to
behave like a lady.”

Anna
jutted her chin out. “I’m surprised ye recognise a lady when ye see one. I’d
hardly expect a man like ye to keep company with noble folk.”

Niall
chuckled and she stared at him in confusion, the sound thoroughly unexpected.

“I’ve
kept company with many fine ladies, lass. The vast majority o’ them seem to
enjoy my company very much.”

“In
yer bed yer mean.”

“Aye,
that is where they enjoy my company most.” He leant in towards her, lowering
his voice. “I’d wager ye’ll enjoy it there too, Anna.”

Her
eyes flew wide at his bold statement before she recovered. “Ha, enjoy being
bedded by an arrogant Sinclair? I’ve heard ye’re all so poor in bed that ye
wives can only stand ye once a month.”

“And
I’ve heard all ye Mackenzie lasses are about as warm in bed as a Scotsman’s
ballocks in winter.”

Anna
could feel her cheeks flame and she turned with a huff. Wretched man. How was
she going to stand a lifetime of being married to him? And there was an odd
thought at the back of her mind, one that refused to go away. It told her that
he was right. She would enjoy being bedded by him. Ack, not that she’d admit
it. Niall thought Mackenzie lasses were cold? Well, that she could do. She
decided that she would not utter another word to him this night - and
forevermore if she could manage it.

As
the eve wore on, the merriments became increasingly rowdy and Anna sought
shelter in one corner of the hall, tucking herself behind a pillar. Most of the
other women enjoyed the atmosphere, flirting and drinking with glee. She could
not though. There was something disturbing about Niall Sinclair. Her eyes kept
drifting over to him. The arrogance had appeared to diminish throughout the
evening and she watched as he talked with her father avidly. It wasn’t even his
insults that disturbed her, for she knew that she had wanted to provoke a
reaction out of him. An oddly longing sensation filled her as she watched him
gesture wildly whilst a boyish expression came across his face. She wondered
what they were discussing. Whatever it was, he was obviously enthusiastic about
it. How she wished a man would talk to her like that. As an equal.

He
finally left her father’s side and joined with his own father. Anna held her
breath as they came towards her and she tucked herself behind the pillar once
more, fearful of the strange feelings that were overcoming her.

“Well,
son, what think ye to yer betrothed?” his father asked him. “Is she no’ a fine
lookin’ lass?”

“Aye,
Father, indeed I had no’ expected such a beauty.”

Anna
tried to ignore the flutter of delight that resounded in her chest at his words
but it lingered.

Laird
Sinclair slapped him on the back. “Aye, she’ll provide ye with some fine
bairns.”

“Ha,
if she’ll even let me near her. This will be no love match, Father, I promise
ye that. She’s callous and full o’ hatred.”

Stunned,
Anna wondered if that was true. Was she really full of hatred? Aye, she held no
love for the Sinclairs but did it seem that she hated him. She disliked him, to
be sure, but she didn’t realise that all he saw in her was hate. There was more
to her than that. It upset her that he could not see it. But then she had done
little to prove him otherwise…

“Ack,
who needs love when ye have a beauty like that in yer bed!”

From
where she was, she could just see Niall roll his eyes. “Beauty is well enough
but there is little substance behind it. I’ve just secured myself an unfeeling
wife who’ll do naught but mope about the keep. Donnae expect much of her,
Father. I don’t.”

***

Niall
heard a gasp and caught a flash of red as it darted past. Anna turned long
enough for him to see the sorrow in her big eyes. She fled upstairs, pushing
past the drunken men with increasing frustration. God’s blood, he’d not meant
for her to hear that. He was just trying to prevent his father from hoping for
too much.

And
now he’d hurt the lass. As much as he enjoyed riling her, he did not mean to
upset her. He had actually found he enjoyed her quick tongue, which was a
pleasant change from the meek noble women he was used to.

Niall
shoved past the men to get to the stairs, intending to at least apologise and
attempt to explain. The men refused to part and he pushed violently at them
with a growl. Seeing Niall’s anger, the men stepped aside, allowing him to dash
up the stairs after her. It suddenly seemed vitally important that she knew
that he had not meant his words. His father had been so hopeful for their match
and longed for a woman like his own mother to look after the Sinclair clan. He
feared that Anna would never get past her hatred of the Sinclairs enough to do
so.

He
should have realised she was there, he had been watching her for most of the
night. She seemed weary and he was half tempted to take her upstairs and put
her to bed. Thoughts of her, passionate and willing in his arms, had assailed
him and Niall realised he couldn’t do that without trying to bed her. The woman
had an uncanny hold over him already.

His
belief in her indifference and coldness had diminished throughout the eve too.
He’d recognised her fear and was convinced that her reaction to him was one
borne of that. No young woman wanted to be married to a stranger, let alone a
man from a clan that she had been taught to hate. Niall watched her as she
continued to see to their kinsman, putting their needs before hers, and he
realised that a dutiful heart lay beneath that cold exterior. She sparked his
curiosity and he desperately wanted to see who the real Anna Mackenzie was.

Niall
searched the chambers but found no sign of her. Was she hiding? He could hardly
picture her cowering under a bed somewhere. He continued until he reached the
door to the ramparts. Mayhap she was up here. He often took to claiming
solitude on the roof of his own keep when the demands of lairdship became too
much. Mayhap they were more similar than he had realised.

The
door was ajar and he could just make out her outline, bathed by the cold glow
of the moon. She sat hunched, her arms wrapped about her knees and her chin
upon them, as if embracing herself.  Niall pushed open the door, wincing as it
creaked, and Anna turned with a start, drawing in a sharp breath.

“Anna,
forgive me,” he murmured as he pushed the door shut.

“Nay,
don’t-”

“I
must,” he said as the door closed with a clunk.

Anna
sighed. “Nay, ye fool. Donnae shut the door. It locks from inside to keep
intruders out. Once the latch goes down, there’s no way o’ opening it from this
side. Ack, ye stupid fool, now we’ll be stuck out here.”

Niall
stared at Anna and then at the door. He tilted his head and eyed the solid
wood. “Ah, ye talkin’ to a Sinclair, lassie. I’ll have that door down in no
time.”

Squaring
up to the door, he slammed his shoulder into it, biting back a howl of pain as
his shoulder juddered with the impact.

“Stop
it!” Anna shouted as he attempted it again. She came suddenly to her feet and
jumped in front of him. “Stop,” she said softly. “Ye’ll do yerself an injury.
The watchmen will be up in the morning. We’ll just have to wait the night.”

“Can
we call for someone?”

“Ye’ll
have no luck getting anyone to hear ye from up here. They’re all too deep in
their cups to hear.”

Clutching
his shoulder, he moved his arm and his joint screamed in protest. The pain must
have been clear on his face as Anna tugged on his good arm and forced him to
sit on the cold stone. She pressed her fingers into the joint and rubbed at it
carefully. He watched her face, his pain completely forgotten.

“It
pleases me to see this side o’ ye, lass.”

A
smile twitched on her lips as she looked up at him. “What? The docile, wifely
side o’ me?”

“Nay,
the kind-hearted side o’ yer.”

She
laughed depreciatively. “And not the one full o’ hatred?”

Niall
felt a stab of remorse for his careless words, particularly when he saw the
hurt that still lingered in her expression. She was softer than he had
realised. But the knowledge that his opinion mattered to her pleased him.  If
he could just take back his words, he felt sure that they could settle their
differences.

Unable
to resist, he ran a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “I did
come to ye to beg yer forgiveness. I was trying to stop my father from…from
expecting too much o’ ye. I know ye have no love for me or the Sinclairs and I
wouldna expect ye to happily take on the role o’ mistress of us all.”

“And
how would ye know what to expect from me? Ye know naught o’ me.”

“Aye,
I know little o’ ye, lass, but I hope to change that. Ye are fiery and loyal, I
admire that. But my father wants a woman like my mother. I feared him being
disappointed.”

Finished
with his arm, she settled down next to him, curling her feet underneath herself
and staring out at the moonlight. Niall wondered if she was aware that he was
gawping at her. Now that the mask of indifference was down, her beauty seemed
to increase tenfold. He traced her profile with his eyes, his gaze lingering on
her lips, and desire swirled in his veins.

Anna’s
gaze remained fixed upon the moon as she spoke to him. “I would no’ like to
disappoint yer father. ‘Tis true, I wanted naught to do with the Sinclairs. I
have heard naught but tales o’ yer viciousness and arrogance, but I am resigned
to the fact that we are betrothed. I woudna turn away from my duty.”

Niall
nodded and hesitantly slipped his fingers over hers.  She darted a look of
surprise at him but he was grateful that she did not withdraw them.

“I
think I know that now, Anna. I think we’ve got a lot to learn about each other.
Will ye let me learn about ye, sweet lassie?” He drew her fingers to his lips,
carefully brushing each one across his mouth.

Anna
gasped at the contact and her eyes seemed bigger than ever.

“Aye,”
she breathed. “I’ll let ye, Laird Sinclair.”

“Niall,”
he murmured against her fingers.

“Niall,”
she whispered.

His
name upon her lips was the undoing of him and he practically leapt forwards,
dropping her hand and pressing an urgent kiss to her lips. She cried out
slightly but she didn’t push him away. Instead, Anna’s hands came around his
neck, clutching to him as he pushed her back.

Her
mouth came open and she returned his kiss with fire. Hell’s teeth, he’d been
wrong about Mackenzie women. Anna was as warm as they come. Niall wrapped his
arms about her, tugging her body into him until she was sat in his lap. Her
teeth nibbled at his lips and her tongue searched provocatively for his. Short
on breath, he pulled away briefly.

“Ye’ve
done this before,” he scolded teasingly.

She
grinned up at him, her mouth glistening and swollen. “Aye, just a few harmless
kisses with a few harmless laddies.”

Growling,
Niall clutched her to him once more. “Never again, Anna, never again.”

She
nodded mutely as he lowered his mouth upon hers once more.

***

Anna
found herself drowning in a world of desire. She could think of naught but the
heat of his mouth upon hers, the feel of his solid flesh flattened against hers
and the taste of his tongue as it explored her mouth. His shield of arrogance
had all but disappeared and Anna was amazed to discover that she liked the man
underneath it. For all his teasing, he held a good heart. It astonished her
that she could see that about him already.

But
he’s a Sinclair, her mind whispered.

“Ye
still think me vicious?” he mumbled against her lips.

“Nay…”
she moaned as his lips trailed down her throat and then back up to her ear. He
breathed into her ear and she shuddered as he nipped at her lobe. “Niall,
wait.”

He
pulled sharply away, keeping hold of her but putting a distance between them
that felt cold and lonely. But she had to know…was he really different?