Highland Lover (17 page)

ere Charlemagne steals your fish.”

Seeing the cat creeping up on her fish, Alana hurried over to put her catch safely into her sack. She tugged on the rest of her clothes and walked back to the camp with Gregor. Although the lack of

love words troubled her, she found that his easy manner made it easier for her to feel comfortable

with him despite what they had just done. On the bank of the river. In the full light of day. Alana

shook her head in amazement at her own daring.

As she readied the fire, Gregor cleaned the fish. She sat and watched them cook as he went on a

hunt for more wood. It all seemed so normal, so ordinary, that she felt a little dazed. It was hard to believe that just a short time ago she had lost her maidenhead on the riverbank. Only a faint

soreness between her legs told her it had not all been just some strange dream. Alana wondered if

this was how all lovers acted, their lives as normal as everyone else’s except for brief, heady

moments of passion.

Nay, she thought, there should be more. She doubted Gregor bedded down with virgins every day

of the week. There should have been a compliment or two if nothing else. It was almost as if he was

purposely saying as little as possible, although she could not think why he would do so. She

supposed she could just ask him how he felt, but she shied away from such a direct approach,

fearing his answer.

She had said nothing, either, she reminded herself. There had certainly been a lot of words dancing

on her tongue, but they would have come straight from her heart and she did not believe Gregor was

ready to hear them. Alana had made love with Gregor because she loved him, but she knew men did

not have to feel so deeply when they bedded a woman. Gregor lusted after her, of that she had no

more doubt, but she needed so much more from the man. From tales the other women in her family

had told her, getting that more from a man could take some time. Alana hoped she had the patience.

Gregor struggled to keep the conversation between him and Alana light as they ate the fish she had

cooked, almost too light to be interesting. He knew he was acting as if nothing momentous had

happened down by the river, but he was still too confused to trust himself to speak of all that had

passed between them. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was troubled by how he

behaved, but he needed time to find a safe middle path to walk with her. Although he did not want

to offer her promises or vows of love, neither did he wish to appear so unmoved by what they had

shared that she was hurt or, worse, withdrew her favors.

When they climbed beneath the blankets, Gregor could feel the chill in her begin and knew he had

to do something. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, relieved when her brief resistance

quickly melted and she returned his kiss. As he reached down to stroke her slim thigh, he kissed her

ear and felt her shiver.

“Ah, lass, my bonnie wee Alana, ye do shake a mon to his roots,” he murmured as he kissed the

hollow at the base of her throat.

“Ye didnae appear verra shaken,” she felt compelled to say.

“And that didnae seem odd to ye? Wheesht, do ye think I ravish virgins upon riverbanks every

day?”

She smiled faintly as she stroked his arm, realizing that she had been so caught up in her

increasingly morose thoughts that she had not even noticed he had stripped off all his clothes before joining her in their rough bed. “Weel, nay. From what little I have heard, most men avoid our ilk.”

And they both knew why, he thought, for taking the maidenhead of a wellborn virgin was often a

quick route to the altar, but that was a subject he desperately wished to avoid. “’Twas a wondrous

gift ye gave me,” he said softly, “and I am nay speaking of that wee shield of your innocence. Ye

gave me fire, lass, a passion more fierce and satisfying than any I have e’er tasted. Sweeter, too. I did fear that I had hurt ye badly, especially when I grew so rough near the end.”

“Nay, ye didnae really hurt me, nay more than was necessary. And I didnae find ye rough at all.”

“’Tis good of ye to say so, but I ken weel that I failed to be as gentle with ye as I should have near the end.”

Alana lightly trailed her fingers over his chest. He sounded disgusted with himself. She suspected a

man like Gregor did not like to lose control, and she was sure he had. Although she found it

unsettling to speak of the act itself, she could not leave him thinking he had hurt her or been too

rough. She had savored those final moments when his desire had possessed him so completely, just

as hers had done to her. It had been exactly what she had needed and would undoubtedly need again.

She did not want some well-practiced minstrel in her arms concentrating on each move he made

instead of on her and on the pleasure they could share. She wanted Gregor, just Gregor, even if that

meant rough and greedy.

“I rather liked it when ye were a wee bit rough,” she said softly, daring a quick glance at his face

before fixing her gaze upon his chest. “’Struth, I wanted faster and harder.”

She was a precious jewel, Gregor thought, as he tilted her face up to his and kissed her. “Or slow

and gentle?”

“Any way ye wish it ’tis what gives ye pleasure, for yours is mine.”

“Tell me, my sweet treasure, are ye sore?”

“Nay. I told ye, ’twas just a wee sting and it has long since faded.”

“Good, for I feel suddenly compelled to make love to ye again.” He started to remove her shift.

There was an odd note of tension in his voice, but Alana decided it was due to his desire. She could

feel his erection brushing against her leg as he undressed her. He still had not spoken of love, but

she no longer felt so uneasy. From all that he had said, he had suffered from the same sense of

awkwardness that she had. His words had not carried the taint of empty, well-used flattery, either.

Such open expressions of his desire and how much pleasure she gave him would be enough for now,

she told herself firmly and then turned all of her attention to the delight she could find in Gregor’s arms.

Gregor held the back of a sleeping Alana close against his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He idly stroked her flat belly and smiled when she murmured his name in her sleep and

briefly rubbed her taut little backside against his groin. He should be exhausted, such was the

ferocity of the passion they had just shared, but he could feel the willingness to start all over again tingle in his groin. She was making him insatiable, he mused, and grinned. Insatiable was good.

He had taken her words to heart as the full truth and allowed himself to just give and take pleasure, his only concern being that Alana gained as much enjoyment from their lovemaking as he did. For

once he had not thought carefully about every touch, every kiss, and every thrust of his body. It had been the most sensual interlude he had ever enjoyed. The fact that Alana was a very responsive

woman, willing and eager to share in the passion that flared between them, only made it easier for

him.

As he watched Charlemagne curl up against Alana’s chest, Gregor yawned and closed his eyes. If

the weather held fine, they would stay here for a day or two and revel in their passion. All too

quickly life and all its trials would intrude again, from the need to find Alana’s sister to extracting himself from the courtship of Mavis. And he would extract himself from that tangle the moment he

reached Scarglas, he vowed. Mavis was a good woman, but there was no passion there. He

tightened his hold on Alana a little as he made himself another vow. No matter what the future did

or did not hold for him and Alana, never again would he consider marrying for anything less than a

true, fierce passion.

Chapter 11

Gregor was inside her. Alana woke slowly, a soft murmur of delight escaping her when she realized

it was not a dream. One of Gregor’s hands was on her breast and the other was moving down her

body. A flicker of surprise cut through her desire when she realized he had joined their bodies while still behind her. Then his clever fingers found that spot between her legs that could drive her utterly mad and she lost all ability to think. Alana let passion grasp hold of her as tightly as Gregor did as he took them both to paradise.

Light shivers of pleasure still rippled through her body as she stroked the arm Gregor had wrapped

around her waist. She had not realized there were so many ways to make love. For the past two days,

Gregor had taught her a great deal. Alana did not want to think about where he had learned such

things, however. She was not fool enough to think Gregor had come to her as innocent as she had

come to him, but she truly did not want to know exactly how much experience he had. It would be

too easy to start comparing herself to all the beautiful women he had known before her. Beautiful

women with big, lush handfuls for breasts and plump, rounded bottoms.

Such thoughts quickly cooled the lingering warmth in her blood and she slipped free of Gregor’s

hold. Hastily donning the shift he had removed from her last night, she grabbed her pack and sought

out a private spot in the woods. Alana knew she had to stop allowing thoughts of other women to

spoil the time she and Gregor had together. He was hers now. He might not be hers for as long as

she wanted him, but for right now, she had to do her best to suppress the attacks of jealousy she

kept suffering from. Since she had taken such a big risk, it was foolish to waste one single moment

of whatever time she might have with Gregor worrying over women he had known before her.

Once she had seen to her personal needs, Alana hurried to the river to bathe. Glancing around to

make sure she was alone, she stripped off her shift and plunged into the water. She gritted her teeth against the sharp cold and bathed as quickly as she could. Since she was growing as tired of fish as

she was of rabbit, she ignored the ones swimming by her as she soaped her hair and then sank

beneath the water to rinse the soap away. Once that was done, Alana fled the water and rubbed

herself dry as briskly as she could to try and return the warmth to her body.

The very first chance she got, she was going to have a long—very long—hot bath, Alana promised

herself. As she dressed and braided her hair, Alana savored the thought of that bath, idly wondering

how long she could soak in the hot water before she looked as wrinkled as an ancient crone. And

this time, it would be her bath and only hers, so that there would be no need to hurry. Gregor could

find his own.

When they did finally reach a place where she could pamper herself so, it would probably be time

for Gregor to decide if he wanted to stay with her or continue on his own, she thought with a heavy

sigh. She was so torn. She needed to find Keira, to know her sister was safe, but finding Keira

meant the end of her journey with Gregor. Despite the dearth of any words of love from him, she

felt certain that he cared for her. It was there to see in the way he held her close as they slept, in his smile, and even in the way he spoke to her. Yet for all she knew, Gregor treated all his lovers so

tenderly, right up until he left them behind.

So she would just have to work harder to make Gregor want to keep her by his side. If they were at

his home, she could show him what a good helpmate she could be. She had certainly done her share

in keeping them fed and warm in their travels, but she doubted that was quite the same thing in

Gregor’s eyes. She knew he liked to talk with her about anything and everything, and he liked the

fact that she could give him a challenging game of chess, but all that had been true from the start

and had brought her no whispers of loving words yet.

That left one thing—lovemaking. Gregor was a very sensual man and she knew he enjoyed every

part of making love, for she could feel his desire as if it were her own. As Alana started back to the camp, she decided that she was going to be the best lover Gregor had ever known. Perhaps that was

the key to his heart. She was willing to try anything now, for all her instincts told her that the time she had left to find that key was rapidly running out.

The moment Alana returned to the camp, Gregor gave her a kiss and wandered off to see to his own

personal needs. Life was good, he thought as he relieved himself under the curious gaze of

Charlemagne and then headed to the river to wash. The place they were camped in had plenty of

food and water, although it was a little humiliating to discover that Alana was a better hunter of

small game than he was. The weather was exceptionally good, as if nature itself had decided they

deserved a respite from the cold and the damp.

Ah, and then there was sweet Alana, who was proving to be a lover beyond compare, he thought

with what he suspected was a besotted grin. The cold water of the river quickly doused the desire

that thought had stirred. As he hastily washed, he tried to decide what it was that made her so much

better than all of the others he had known. He had always believed that, as concerned the actual act

of lovemaking, one woman was much the same as another. Alana had proven him wrong about that

from the start.

There was no question that knowing he was the only man who had ever been with her stirred

feelings inside of him he was hard pressed to describe. Arrogant and hypocritical though it was, he

liked the fact that no man had ever touched that soft skin, kissed those beautiful breasts, or felt her tight heat clench around him as she cried out his name. He had never before cared who or how