Highlanders (22 page)

She held her silence, wondering if he would pursue her. It had been a way of teasing one another years ago. When he’d found her, he took a kiss as his prize. And when she’d found him, she’d done the same.

The limb was cool and hard against her back. From her vantage point, she could see him by the fire while the ducks cooked. He picked up a branch and tossed it on the flames before he stood at last, staring out into the darkness.

“You’re behaving like a child,” he called out, walking toward her.

Maybe she was, but if she could pull him out of this dark mood, it was worth it. She didn’t want to dwell upon the past years of hurt and heartbreak. For tonight, she wanted to remember the way they’d laughed together.

“And your hiding places were never very good,” he remarked, crossing his arms as he stared up at her in the tree.

“I never tried to hide very well,” she admitted. “I wanted you to find me.”

He let out a sigh, and she picked a leaf, dropping it down to him. “Let the past go, Dougal. Let us just be friends, as we were.”

He climbed up to her and moved to sit upon the branch beside her. “Is that what you want?” He picked a leaf and drew it over her cheek. The cool green texture was soft, and the touch slid over her in a caress. He let the leaf fall, and her defenses drifted away with it.

No, she didn’t want to be merely friends. He had a way of seeing through her, to the heart of what she wanted. There was a desperate urge to feel his mouth upon hers, the wild hunger that only he could evoke.

“I didn’t mean to draw you into such danger,” she said, leaning a little closer. “I never thought they would try to kill me.”

His dark eyes regarded her with a steady intent. “I won’t allow anyone to harm you.”

The warmth of his voice entranced her, and she closed her eyes, wishing he could protect her from the world. Despite the cool air, she felt perfectly warm, so close to him. Safe, even.

“You found me, Dougal,” she breathed. “Will you not claim your prize?”

From the way he stared at her, a warmth rose within her skin. In his eyes, she saw the memory of the kiss they’d shared and the shielded desire. Would he take what she was offering?

Abruptly, his expression shifted. “No, Celeste. Not this time.” His words were meant to sever any feelings, cutting all invisible ties between them.

It might have worked, had she not seen the haunted look in his eyes.

Dougal climbed down from the tree, then lifted her to the ground. He returned to the fire and removed the roasted ducks, handing her one of them. She propped up the wooden stake, allowing the meat to cool first. Nothing had ever tasted so good as that first bite. She ate quickly, never minding how hot it was.

Dougal tore through his own meat, and after a moment, she dared to smile again. “Look at us. We’re like barbarians who haven’t eaten in weeks.”

He wiped his hands but didn’t return the smile. They ate without speaking, and after a while, he finally voiced the question. “You said you wouldn’t wed me because you were afraid. I want to know why.”

She avoided an answer at first, wondering if she dared to give him the reasons. He might not understand.

Staring down at the bones of the duck, she admitted, “I was often hungry when I was a girl. I learned to enjoy a good meal when it was offered to me.” She wiped her hands and forced herself to look at him. “Did you know why I came to Locharr?”

“I assumed you were being fostered there.”

She shook her head. “Melisandre and I asked the bBaron for sanctuary after our father and mother died.”

He asked no questions, but waited for her to continue. She gripped her hands around her knees, feeling the chill of the night.

“All my life, my father spent his coins on useless things. Sometimes a length of silk for a gown or a silver cup for my mother. He thought the gifts would please us, but then there was no money left for food.” She didn’t look up at Dougal, unsure of what he would think. “He went into debt, and we were the ones who paid the price. My mother would try to sell the goods, but there are few folk who will buy silk during a harsh winter.”

“How did he die?”

She tightened her knuckles, trying to stop herself from shaking. “He bought several flasks of wine and drank them all. We tried to awaken him, but he was already dead.”

She sobered and faced Dougal, admitting, “Not long after that my mother lost her milk. My baby brother died of starvation, and she took her own life in grief.”

The trembling took her and the heaviness of loss shadowed her again. “I had to take care of my sister, and that’s when I brought her to Locharr. I told the baron everything, and he promised to seek a good marriage for me. I vowed I would never live like that again.”

The dark fear of poverty would never leave her. It went bone deep, and he needed to know that. She drew her knees up beneath her gown. “Then I met you.”

She reached out a hand to him, wondering if he would understand what she needed from him. But he didn’t take it.

“You thought I was the same as your father.”

“I was afraid. The baron gave us a place to stay when we’d lost all our belongings. After the trouble he went to, finding a good match for me...it wasn’t possible to say no. Regardless of how I felt about you.”

She let him see her tears, baring her fears and lost dreams before him. “I hated myself for refusing you. But I had no right to choose my heart’s desire. Not when I had to provide for my sister.”

“You should have trusted me,” he argued.

She shook her head. “You don’t know what it’s like, Dougal. To go hungry, wondering if you’ll ever eat again. To watch your family starve before your eyes.”

“You’re wrong.” He stood, his mood growing darker. “When I was twelve, I had to steal food from the kitchens when they forgot about me.”

She said nothing, but this was a side to him she hadn’t known about.

“My mother was too busy to worry about me. My father was dead and my brothers were prisoners. It was up to her to lead the defense of the fortress, and she grew tired of the fighting. She left me when I was fourteen. I know how it feels to be left behind. To not know if anyone will take care of you.”

She stood up and walked toward him. He kept his back to her, but she didn’t want him to push her away. Not now.

Instead, she stood behind him and reached for his hand. This time, he didn’t pull away when she squeezed it in silent understanding. Right now, she wanted to lean against him once more, to feel his strong arms around her. To pretend for a moment that he would guard her from any foe. Especially those that haunted her from the past.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, resting her cheek against his back. He didn’t move away, which offered a fragile hope.

“What do you want from me, Celeste? Am I to help you steal your sister away and bring you both to safety?”

She could not tell him the truth, that she had originally hoped to conceive a child and remain at Eiloch. Now it seemed like such a foolish idea, she had discarded it entirely. “I don’t know the answers, Dougal. But I cannot live in peace with the new Lord Eiloch and his wife .”

“They want you to die.”

“I think so, yes. And my sister is still there.” She couldn’t suppress a shudder, feeling utterly helpless.

He said nothing for a long time, the fire being the only crackling noise to break the stillness. “Go to the shelter,” he said at last. “Sleep, and I’ll think of what we can do.”

She took his other hand in hers. “There is space enough for both of us.”

Tonight was the first time they’d taken a step toward forgiveness. It seemed that he was now willing to help her, that perhaps he saw the reasons behind the choice she’d made.

She wanted to lie beside him tonight, to feel the warmth of his body close. And if Dougal were to join her within the space, she could not deny what might happen between them.

But as she lay down within the small shelter, he continued to sit by the fire, remaining far away from her.

* * *

T
HE
TEMPTATION
BECKONED
to him, to enter the shelter and share the space. But after Celeste’s confession, he needed time to reconsider everything. She’d come back to him, seeking help. And though he might want to deny it, the old feelings were still there, buried beneath the years of separation.

She
had
cared for him, even though she’d wed Lord Eiloch. He sensed that it had been a painful decision, one she hadn’t wanted to make. But it infuriated him that she hadn’t even been willing to try. She’d judged him based on the poverty she saw and had decided he was the same as her father.

It pricked him like a thorn digging into his pride.
You weren’t good enough for her
, came the voice of reason.

But she’d made her choice out of fear. Not because she hadn’t cared. And that changed the face of his anger.

She was watching him from within the primitive shelter, resting her face upon one hand. “Are you going to sit out there and freeze all night?”

“It’s nearly summer.” But she was right; the nights were cold. Given the choice, he would be far more comfortable within the shelter she’d built. Her body heat would be more than enough to warm him. Yet, he doubted if he could sleep beside her without touching her.

“I’ve already told you, there’s no reason to be afraid of sharing the shelter. We’ll both sleep easier.” She ventured a light smile, as if she had no idea what she was proposing.

Dougal didn’t trust himself. He was weary from last night’s frustration and another day of traveling. “Neither of us would get any sleep at all,” he predicted.

“You might be right.” She crept out of the tent, still kneeling on the ground. “Edmon used to accuse me of stealing the coverlet. Often I would roll up in it, leaving him with naught.”

The memory made her face soften, but it had a very different effect upon him. Jealousy roared through him, at the thought of her lying with another man. He imagined Celeste naked, wearing nothing except a coverlet. “If you’d been my wife, I’d have stolen it back.”

“You’d have to fight me for it,” she teased, her eyes bright. “I like to be kept warm at night.”

Oh, he’d have kept her warm all right. His groin tightened at the thought.

Around her neck, Celeste still wore the glass pendant Nairna had loaned her. It had slipped beneath the neckline of her gown, between her breasts. His attention rested upon her, and he wondered why she persisted in asking him to join her.

Her hair was still undone from the night before, a curled lock sliding over one shoulder. Strands of molten gold mingled with darker brown hair.

“Did you love him?” he demanded, even though he didn’t want to know the true answer.

“He was good to me. And we were friends.”

And there was the unspoken answer. No, she hadn’t loved Lord Eiloch. A primitive side to his mood was satisfied to hear it, for he wanted to know that her heart belonged to him.

The way she was watching him now made his body respond in ways he didn’t want it to. “Return to the shelter without me,” he ordered.

“But—”

“Now. Or you’ll find yourself on your back and I’ll be touching you in ways your husband never did.”

She stood with her mouth parted, shocked at his words. For a moment, she didn’t move, as if questioning whether he was serious. To underscore his words, Dougal moved in and touched the shoulders of her gown. “Right now, I’m wanting to slide this off your skin.” He loosened the laces, watching her flush as he did just that. When her shoulder was bared, he brought his mouth to her bare flesh. He nipped at it, meaning to frighten her.

“If you invite me into that shelter, I’ll take this gown off you, and use my mouth upon every part of your body.” He kissed her throat, feeling the tension in her. “Don’t fool yourself into believing I have honor. If you invite me back, I’ll take what you’re offering. And far more than you want to give.”

* * *

H
ER
HEART
WAS
slamming against her ribs as Celeste retreated into the shelter. His words had taken apart her courage, reminding her of exactly what happened between a man and a woman. And although she’d accepted her husband’s lovemaking, it had never been anything but lying there and enduring his attention. It had done nothing to arouse her.

But Dougal’s threats had slid beneath her skin, awakening her in a way she didn’t understand. Between her legs she was wet and aching. And although this was what she’d wanted, she found herself unable to speak the words of invitation. In the end, she was a coward, afraid of the way he made her feel.

She didn’t recognize this woman she was transforming into. And instinctively she knew, at the very deepest level, that it would be impossible to lie with a man like Dougal and walk away. It would change her.

For beneath it all, she hadn’t forgotten the way he made her feel. He’d stolen her heart once before. And now, he’d warned her that if she dared to pursue this, he wouldn’t stop.

God help her, she didn’t want him to.

Her gown was bunched between her legs, and the pressure was a sweet torment. Her breathing had gone faster, and in the darkness she watched him. He was sharpening one of his blades upon a stone, seated upon a log as he worked. His dark hair hung below his shoulders, his eyes intent upon his task.

As his hands moved, she tightened her legs together, and something began to quicken inside her. The sweet pressure was rising, and she reached up to touch one of her breasts. The sensation sent the echo of desire between her legs, and she tried to remember what it had been like to have her husband inside her.

Except it was Dougal she imagined now. She closed her eyes, wondering what it would feel like to have this man penetrating her, his hard length filling her deeply. She could hardly breathe, hardly think. The feeling swelled inside, and she brought her hand beneath her skirts, startled at how wet the thoughts had made her. The release came so fast, she arched against her own hand, her body shuddering.

And when it was over, she felt ashamed at herself. She was throwing herself at him, knowing that they still could not be together. It was wrong, and if he knew what she’d wanted from him, he’d never forgive her.