Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8) (14 page)

Damnation, he thought Neacal wanted to entertain Anna… which, he was ashamed to realize, wasn't far from the truth. But he couldn't take advantage of her. "I'll be happy to pay for it."

"Nay, I insist. 'Tis a gift for our new chief."

"I appreciate it, but the young woman, Anna Douglas, will need to stay here for several days, perhaps a sennight or two. I'll be glad to pay."

"Well, then, the first two nights are on me." Korbin glanced toward the entrance, his eyes widening.

Neacal turned to find Anna approaching, her cowl lowered, revealing her lustrous blond hair. He muttered a curse beneath his breath. He'd wanted her to stay outside until he had things arranged.

"I'll sing in exchange for room and board," Anna said.

"Sing?" Korbin asked. "You're a minstrel, then?"

"Indeed, I am."

"She and her friends have been entertaining us at Bearach Castle for a while," Neacal said.

"Ah." Korbin raised his brows, giving Neacal a devilish look.

Damn the man. Could he not get his mind out of the drainage ditch?

"There is no need for you to sing," Neacal told Anna. "I'll cover your room and board."

She shook her head, her stubborn gaze meeting his. "I insist on supporting myself."

Refusing to argue with her here, he turned to Korbin. "Anyway, I need for you to watch out for her and protect her while she's here. As you can see, she's a bonny lass and men tend to want to take advantage of her. See that doesn't happen and I'll pay you well."

"As you wish, chief." Korbin bowed.

Anna's face was the blush-pink color of rose petals while her lips reminded him of ripe strawberries. He had a keen craving for her mouth.

"Have you a horse you need to stable?" Korbin asked.

"Indeed. I'll go get my belongings first."

"Nonsense. I'll send my son. Please, have a seat at the bar." Korbin stuck his head into the back room. "William."

A lad in his late teens or early twenties appeared—a younger version of Korbin—with dark hair and thin, short whiskers. "Aye." His gaze slid past Neacal and focused on Anna with great interest.

Damnation, she was too beautiful by far. Such a woman could not travel alone. She was sure to be accosted at every turn by young lads, graybeards and every male in between.

"This is the new Chief MacDonald from Bearach. Chief, my second son, William."

Finally focusing on Neacal, the young man bowed. "I'm glad to meet you, m'laird."

"A pleasure." Neacal shook his hand.

"Retrieve his things from his horse, then feed and stable it for him," Korbin instructed.

"I also have my wolfhound, Dunn, outside," Neacal said. "Can you feed him as well, and give him a place to sleep in the stables near my horse?"

"Indeed." William hastened away.

When Korbin asked Neacal and Anna if they wanted supper, both declined for they'd eaten earlier.

"Well then, I'll show you to your room, Mistress Douglas. I would send my wife but she's injured. Tripped and sprained her ankle. Hasn't been able to walk since."

"Oh, I hope she recovers quickly," Anna said.

While Korbin carried the key and led the way up the stairs, Neacal took a seat at the bar, watching Anna. He wanted to follow but he couldn't. 'Twould not be acceptable at all.

William brought his bedroll, bow and arrows inside and placed them nearby.

"I thank you." Neacal gave him a silver coin.

The lad, looking pleased, rushed outside.

A few minutes later, Korbin returned and poured a pint of ale for Neacal. "I started a fire in the hearth for her. I'm sorry I don't have a second room for you, chief. A family traveling through took the other room. But there is a pallet on the floor of Mistress Douglas' room, or you can sleep here in the common room. I would give you my own chamber in the back but my wife has been in bed for two days. My oldest son, his wife and five wee bairns occupy the cottage out back."

"'Tis all right," Neacal said. "I have my bed roll. I'll sleep here in the common room. I'm no stranger to sleeping on a floor." Neacal took a deep drink of the ale, thinking of Anna. "The lass might want some refreshment."

"Indeed. I'll take her some spiced wine. 'Twill help her sleep, I vow."

"I thank you."

The man prepared a jug of wine and a goblet.

"Korbin!" A woman screeched from the back room.

He sighed loudly. "'Tis my wife."

"Go. See to her. I'll take the wine to Mistress Douglas."

"Much obliged, chief." Korbin disappeared into the back room. "What is it now, Ellie?" he grumbled.

Neacal picked up the small wine tray and headed up the steps. He feared Anna might already be undressed and in bed. Or was it
hope
that he felt? Whatever it was, his heart rate sped up.

You must be a gentleman,
he told himself just before he knocked.

A few seconds later, the door opened and Anna peered out with wide green eyes. She was still fully dressed and had only removed her cloak. He was not certain whether he was relieved or disappointed.

Damnation. Stop being such a rogue!

"Would you care for some refreshment?" he asked. "'Tis spiced wine."

"Oh. I thank you." She opened the door and stepped back, surprising him.

Hell. Should he enter and face the most intense temptation of his life? Or stand here like a green lad?

A red flush covered her face. "I'm sorry, m'laird. I'm not thinking." She reached for the tray.

He bypassed her and entered the room. "Don't be sorry." He set the tray on the small table, uncorked the wine and poured a generous helping into the goblet. "Are you certain you wouldn't like a small meal? Korbin must have something left from supper."

"Nay, I'm not hungry, but I thank you." She closed the door and stepped forward. "You must have some wine, too."

After a quick perusal of the chamber, he saw no other drinking vessels. "Nay. I've already had ale." He handed her the goblet.

She slowly lifted it and took a sip. "Mmm." She licked her lips. "'Tis delicious and heavily spiced."

He glanced away toward the low-burning fire in the tiny hearth but the image of her licking her lips would not leave his mind. Damnation, he should exit with all haste, but he sensed she didn't wish him to. Of a certainty, he didn't want to go. Instead, he thirsted for a taste of the wine on her lips.

"I don't mind if you try a sip," she said, offering the goblet. Although the look in her eyes was innocent, a spark of boldness lurked there, perhaps even a coy flirtation.

He stared at her luscious rosy lips, which lured and tormented him, then he forced himself to drop his gaze to the wine. Deciding 'twould be more sensible to taste the wine from the goblet rather than from her lips, he took the drinking vessel from her and swallowed a generous sip. The spicy-sweet flavor was seductive and he longed even more to taste it upon her lips. Arousal surged through him at the thought.

"Aye, 'tis a fine vintage." He handed the wine back to her, then paced to the window and looked out into the torch-lit dimness. All appeared quiet and peaceful, but what if someone decided to break into her room? He had nowhere else to sleep this night, except the common room, and he needed to protect her.

He turned, forcing his gaze to the pallet near the fireplace, rather than the bed. "Do you mind if I sleep here on the floor, in front of the door to guard you?"

Her face blanched. "Why? Is it not safe?"

"I have no inkling. Korbin said a family occupied the other room. Hopefully they are good, honest folk."

"Do you not have a room?"

"Nay, this is the only one available."

She gasped. "I didn't know that. You must take this room. I insist."

"Nay. Don't be ridiculous. I have my bedroll. I could stay downstairs in the common room, but I would sleep better knowing you're protected."

"Well then…" She glanced around. "You should take the bed and I'll sleep on that pallet by the fireplace."

He shook his head, refusing to argue the point further. If she didn't hush, they would both be getting no sleep in the bed after he silenced her with a kiss.

A kiss. Hell. He should not have imagined such an indulgence. The memory of when he'd kissed her at the stones… the warm wetness of her mouth intoxicated him. But he didn't wish to merely seduce her. His soul had somehow become tangled up with hers, enmeshed. Without her, he would be as stark as an oak stub without its limbs, leaves or acorns.

He wanted to marry her. The sharp truth of it sliced through his awareness, cutting away the needless clutter. Never in his life had he even considered marrying anyone, but to imagine not having this amazing woman as his wife was inconceivable. Somehow she had become as vital to him as the air he breathed. Her beautiful light pulled his soul out of the dark abyss.

"Anna." On impulse, he turned.

"Aye?" She observed him with questioning eyes.

He tried to steady his hands as he took the goblet from her and placed it on the table, then led her to the chair. "Please, have a seat."

"Very well. I hope you'll sit, too."

He didn't. He knelt before her. God help him. He hoped he could do this right.

Alarm reflected in her wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

He took her hand, so small and delicate. He stroked her soft palm with his thumb. "Anna." He stared into her lovely green eyes… so startled and confused. He felt the same way. A moment of hesitation struck him and he dropped his gaze. He was too damaged, mind and body, for someone as perfect as her. Why on earth would she want him? He was a chief, he reasoned. He could provide for her and protect her. He would cherish her all the days of his life; that should count for something.

"What is it?" she whispered, closing her fingers around his.

He lifted his gaze and saw his whole world in her eyes. His future… and suddenly he knew without her he would have no future. "Will you be my wife?"

Anna's breath rushed out. She swayed, then shook her head. "What? Surely, I misunderstood."

Neacal grasped hold of both her forearms, lest she topple from the chair. An abrupt ache struck his gut. What if she refused? "You didn't misunderstand," he assured her. "I'm asking you to marry me."

"I cannot." Tears sparkled in her eyes, then she closed them tight, making the tears spill down her cheeks.

The ache within his vitals grew, expanding to take over his chest, tightening, making it hard to breathe. "Why not?"

She shook her head. "Oh, dear Neacal. I…" Covering her face with her hands, she broke into sobs.

Saints! 'Twas not the response he'd hoped for at all. Had he bungled this just as he'd bungled everything else in his life?

"What is it, Anna?" He rubbed her slender shoulders, wishing he could read her mind. He sensed that she held a world of pain inside her, that she was trying to escape the past just as he was, but it clung to them like spider webs.

Saints, how he wanted to hold her in his arms, to comfort her, but he couldn't now. A divide as solid as a thick stone wall stood between them. What the devil was it? Once he knew, mayhap he could destroy it.

After she got her crying under control, she lowered her hands and tried to awkwardly dry her tears on her sleeve. "You're a chief," she whispered.

He took out his clean handkerchief and handed it to her. "I'm well aware, but what difference does it make?"

Drying her tears, she shook her head. The pain gleaming in her reddened eyes carved a hole in his chest. How could he convince her?

"I would protect you and provide for you," he said.

"I know. You're a good man, Neacal. The most honorable I have ever met." The sweet affection in her eyes only made this more difficult. "But your clan would never approve of me."

Annoyance clawed at him. "Do you think I care? I'll marry the person I choose. Not who the elders advise me to marry. Of a certainty, not any of the young lasses who are visiting Bearach now."

Anna gave a brief, sad smile. "But, as a chief, you must think of your clan. A bride should bring much wealth or an important alliance to your clan. I can do neither. I'm penniless, as I'm sure you have figured out by now." She dropped her gaze.

He stroked his hand along her smooth, damp cheek. "It matters not to me. I have friends and some important alliances already. The Camerons, the MacKenzies."

"But I've heard the gossip among your clansmen, as I've already told you."

'Twas obvious what she was referring to—the fact that half his clan questioned his sanity and his ability to lead, while some were fully-fledged traitors. And they would think him even more unbalanced if he married a minstrel. Annoyance coiling through him, he sat back. "I don't give a damn about gossip. I'm the chief and I'll make the decisions about the clan and my life."

"I couldn't bear it if they voted you out because of me." She bit her bottom lip. Regardless of his annoyance at the situation, he hungered to do the same. He wanted to nibble on her lush, sensual lower lip, lick it, and devour her mouth.

Truth be told, he was tempted to throw it all away for her… the chieftainship, the castle. But if he did that, where would they live? In a hut on an island? Nay, she deserved much better. Her manners and her speech told him she'd been born to privilege, but then lost all. And that she'd had a hard life since then. She deserved to be the lady of a castle, with many servants and fine clothes. He would provide that for her.

Besides, he knew his da was watching over him, and he couldn't let him down by resigning as chief.

Neacal shook his head. "They'll not kick me out. I won't let them." Now, he was even more determined to remain chief and to be a great one. He would succeed for his father and for Anna, to give her a good life. "I refuse to give up. Do you understand what I'm saying? I didn't give up when my life hung by a thread—even though I was bloody well tempted at times. Why would I give up now? This is no great obstacle compared to what I've already survived."

Tears welled in her eyes again and she blotted at them with the handkerchief. "You're the strongest, most honorable man I've ever met, Neacal. Words cannot express how much I admire and treasure you."

He searched her eyes, wondering at the affection he saw there. Did she feel as he did? If so, he would not back down.

"Tell me
aye
." He leaned forward, stroking his thumbs along her flushed cheeks. He pressed a kiss to her luscious lips. "Tell me you'll be my bride." Not giving her time to refuse him, he captured her lips.

Neacal's kiss stole Anna's reasoning ability. She was glad he didn't wait for her response, because she couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Although she wanted to say
aye
to his marriage proposal with every fiber of her being, she could not. In the eyes of the law, she was already married. She had to find a way to tell him, even if he hated her for it. The simple thought of causing him more pain made her chest ache.

Before she knew it, they lay upon the pallet by the warm fireplace. Good heavens! "We should stop," she said.

"Do you want me to?" He searched her eyes at close range.

The raw emotion in his midnight blue gaze stalled out her words. Of course she didn't want him to stop. To say
aye
would be a lie. But to say
nay
would be folly, so she kept her mouth shut. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was disappoint him.

He leaned in closer and whispered against her mouth. "Tell me to stop if 'tis what you desire." Then he kissed her, soft and sweet, on the lips.

What she
desired
was him. And though she couldn't tell him that, she was sure he felt it on her lips.

She couldn't tell him to stop while he kissed her. His need radiated outward, surrounding her. No one had needed her in a long time and this was something she'd yearned for.

She threaded his dark hair between her fingers, appreciating the thickness, as she drew him closer. Never had she been kissed in the sinful, decadent way he did it, his tongue flicking and stroking inside her mouth.

Her thoughts evaporated like mist in the beaming sunlight while he kissed her. Through her clothing, he stroked his hands along her body, over her back, the side of her hip and along her thigh. His big, strong hands caressed her with utmost gentleness.

Saints!
Arousal lit up her body like a lightning storm. She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, scarcely able to control herself. His hand on her derriere, he dragged her tight against him. Feeling his arousal, she moaned and darted her tongue inside his mouth.

He rasped a curse and rolled her beneath him.

Oh, aye.
She loved the heaviness of his muscles upon her, pressing her into the pallet.

He knew how to seduce her to the core of her being with long, deeply passionate kisses. He rolled aside again and tugged her skirts upward, above her knees.

Nay, she should not allow this, but his warm fingers above her stocking, caressing the bare, sensitive skin of her thigh… she sighed. He pushed her petticoats up further and stroked his palm over her hip.

Oh, how she ached and burned for him. His hand was close… so very close… tempting her. She moaned, forcing herself not to beg him. His thumb stroked, feather light, over the spot where her hip joined her thigh and downward, trailing his thumb along the inside of her thigh and upward again, brushing against her curls. She gasped, then whimpered with the unbearable need. Her leg fell aside, opening to him. The tips of his fingers slipped between her thighs, over that sensitive spot that ached for him.

"Anna," he breathed in an awed tone, then emitted a sound halfway between a growl and a moan. "So wet."

'Haps she should be mortified at her own wantonness, but she wasn't. Nor could she help herself around him. He sparked off a flaming fuse of arousal in her and it grew hotter with each eager stroke of his fingers. His tongue flicked into her mouth even as he pressed a finger inside her. Sliding in a bewitching rhythm, driving deeper with each thrust. She cried out, widening her thighs further. Her hand fisted in his hair, dragging him closer. He fed her decadent kisses and she devoured each and every one, savoring his delicious male flavor. She wanted to kiss and lick every part of him and nibble with her teeth. He held her down, his body half lying on hers, but she did not wish to escape him. She yanked him closer.

His wicked fingers worked a magic such as she'd never known existed and, before she could comprehend it, a fireball of passion burst within her, propelling her toward the stars. His mouth covered hers, smothering her cries. She was only half aware, for the bliss which claimed her was beyond anything she could remember. Once the intensity of pleasure released her, she gasped for breath. He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing against her lips, his eyes dark blue in the dim glow.

He exhaled a Gaelic oath. "That was beautiful."

"Aye." The word escaped on her breath. 'Twas all she could utter. She was awed by him and the erotic spell which he'd cast upon her. She could not grasp how such physical sensations were possible. Having been married before, she had, of course, experienced lovemaking and desire, but nothing with this intensity.

His dark, concentrated expression, lowered lashes and clenched jaw, told her he was near to the peak of arousal himself. Why had he stopped? After turning to her side, she stroked a hand down his chest to his plaid.

He caught her hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed it. He shook his head. "Not yet, bonny lass."

Confusion muddled her mind. She wished to be scorched by his fiery passion. Was he not interested in pursuing this sensual bliss further? "Why?" she asked.

"You have not yet agreed to be my wife."

But she could never be his wife. Tears filled her eyes. Neacal was a treasure and she would do anything for him, but she couldn't change the law or her past. She couldn't change despicable brutes like Blackburn who sought to control and possess her. Perhaps even kill her. And because of that beast, she had to hurt Neacal.

She closed her eyes and the hot tears trickled across her skin. She pushed her skirts down and sat up. What a wanton she was. She should be ashamed of her lack of control.

"Help me understand," he said, sitting up and propping himself against the wall behind her. "You do not fear me. You seem to like the kisses. You allow me to touch you in the most intimate of ways, and yet…"

"Of course I don't fear you." She wiped her tears away and glanced around at him. "Your kisses are spellbinding and your touch is irresistible. But…" What else could she say to discourage him except the truth? He would hate her, especially now, after she'd allowed him such liberties. She'd not possessed the strength to refuse his touch.

"But what?" he asked.

"Marriage is not so simple for a chief, is it?" Turning away, she cringed at her own diversion ploy. But what choice did she have? After the intense pleasure she'd just experienced, she was lucky to remember her own name.

"I'll make it simple," he snapped.

She winced at his sharp tone. "I don't wish you to be angry with me."

"I'm not, and I won't be."

His tone said otherwise. 'Twas easy to see he was already angry, if not with her, then with the situation.

Her throat tightened and no matter how hard she tried, she could not speak the words—the truth. She should've never allowed him into this room, for now she'd had a taste of paradise and she'd have to give him up. He would return to Bearach Castle, and she would roam around Scotland, never to see him again. She refused to ruin his life. He would need to marry an untouched young lady and have a whole herd of children with her. One of those sons would be his heir. 'Twas what chiefs required. She knew the way of things; she'd been a chief's wife, after all.

Neacal touched her face, turning it toward him. "Anna?"

"I'm sorry." She could not look him in the eye. 'Twas too painful.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"You must forget about me," she urged in a whisper.

"Why?" he demanded.

"I cannot tell you. I should've never allowed things to go this far. I hope you can forgive me."

Neacal shoved to his feet. "Aye, of course I forgive you. Although I have no inkling what I'm forgiving," he muttered, irritation grinding through him. "I vow I will never understand women."

Perhaps 'twas what he deserved, after all the wild escapades of his youth and the many lasses he'd seduced back then, not thinking of the consequences.

He knew he was insane for asking Anna to marry him so impulsively. She was keeping secrets and he didn't know enough about her.

Regardless, he couldn't do what she said and forget her. Letting her go was unthinkable. But how did he know she would stay here at the tavern once he went back to Bearach? For whatever reason, his proposal had frightened her and caused her to push him away.

"I will see you in the morn." He headed toward the door, needing to sort through his thoughts.