Highlander Unmasked (21 page)

She relaxed and softened, melting right into him. His hand moved from her waist up her back to run his fingers through the silken web of curls tumbling down her back. It was even softer than he remembered. The subtle movement unleashed a beguiling scent of roses teasing his senses.

He moved his hand from her hair to gently trace the soft point of her chin, massaging with his thumb the frantic pulse below her ear. His fingers cupped her chin, tilting it back, coaxing her lips apart to explore the tender recess of her mouth, drinking in the honey moist taste of her.

Tentatively, her tongue reached out to meet his. Heat surged to his loins, filling him with a longing so intense, it should terrify him. But all he could think of was the delicate woman in his arms and how much he wanted her.

Her response grew bolder, and enticing little sounds escaped from between her lips. He recognized her building desire in the urgency of her movements.

Blood pooled hot and heavy in his loins. Alex fought to keep his passion in check, but he knew it was a losing battle.

She wanted him.

This sweet, willing surrender was the last thing he’d expected, burying his resolve under a blanket of white hot lust.

Her tongue drove him wild, entwining with his in a dark, delicious dance. She sank into him, pressing her body against his and clutching his shoulders as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

He kissed her harder, wanting more, wanting to devour her very essence, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel her press up against him, naked, rubbing her breasts against his chest, circling her hips against his. Opening for him. He wanted her as mindless with lust as he was.

His mouth slid across her jaw and down the warm length of her neck. He was drowning in the scent of roses and smooth, baby soft skin. Her luscious round breasts pressed against him, too tempting to ignore. All he could think about was inhaling her, tasting her, touching her, plying all that soft, ivory flesh in his hands. Sucking her until she came apart in his arms.

But he knew he had to proceed cautiously, having care for her innocence—and for his bollocks. He remembered all too well how the force of her own response had terrified her.

Deftly, his hands skimmed over her tiny waist, stretched up along her stomach, and came to rest under the heavy curve of her breasts. He forced his pulse to slow, harnessing the sharp stab of desire. He kissed her mouth again, distracting her with his tongue as his hand finally covered her breast.

He groaned. God, she was lush. So achingly ripe.

She shuddered with desire, and Alex thought he might explode.

His need for her gripped him like a steel vise. He wanted to rip off the velvet gown that hid her nakedness and bury his face in her hot, fragrant skin. Biting back the lust, he gently rolled his thumb over her nipple, suffering another surge of pressure in his loins when she hardened immediately under his fingertips.

Her responsiveness taunted him, giving him a taste of her passion and hinting at the dangerously sensual creature hiding under a veil of innocence. His mind exploded with erotic possibilities. Of what he could do to her. Of what she could do to him.

She arched into his hand, silently begging and putting an end to his patience. He stroked her harder, feeling the excited flutter of her heart beneath his palm, lifting her breasts toward his mouth. He lingered along the creamy ivory skin of her bodice, teasing her with his tongue, kissing the sensitive flesh until she groaned. Only then did he slide his tongue beneath the fabric, flickering over the puckered edge of her nipple.

It was too much…it wasn’t enough. With each taste of her, he wanted more; he had to have her.

He wanted to sink into her. To possess her. To put an end to this torment.

“Mistress, is everything all right?”

The sound of voices brought him harshly back to reality. It was her men coming to check on her. He jerked away, breaking the kiss. His breath came in uneven gasps as lust pounded through his body.

What the hell?

She looked just as dazed as he felt. It took her a moment to respond. “In here. I’m fine,” she called out. Her hands went to her head as she attempted to put some semblance of order back into the curls he’d mussed. “I’ll be right out.”

Alex paced a few steps, raking his fingers back through his hair, more confused about what had just happened than he’d ever been in his life. One minute he was furious, and the next he was kissing her as if his life depended on it. That it very well might was something he could not consider.

She turned, presumably to leave, but he stopped her. “You will return with me.” He would protect her. A hundred men wouldn’t be enough to ease his mind, let alone the paltry few she’d brought along as escorts. “Ready your men, I will return in a moment.” He would have to conclude his business with Robbie quickly. “And Meg?” She looked back at him. “This discussion is not over.”

They rode in silence, the guardsmen she’d brought with her trailing behind. The heat of passion had faded, leaving Meg in a state of confusion. Alex claimed to want her to leave him alone, but then he’d kissed her—again. And not just any kiss, but a kiss of possession that branded her as his. A soul-wrenching kiss that had drained her with its emotional intensity, leaving her wanting more. Those moments in his arms, she could almost feel that he was hers.

Why was he trying to push her away?

She’d get no answers from Alex. The silence was deafening. They’d been riding for nearly half an hour and he’d hardly said more than a few words to her. She almost wished he’d resume their earlier conversation, as he’d threatened.

Was he still angry? She peeked out at him from under her lashes. She didn’t think so. The taut lines around his mouth had softened. He looked glorious with the warm afternoon sun shining on his fair head, in stunning contrast with his deeply tanned skin and crystal-clear blue eyes. He was truly the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

From the way his eyes darted around, Meg knew he was on alert for anything unusual. Still, he seemed more relaxed than he’d been the entire time she’d known him. She suspected it had to do with being away from court.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, indicating the breathtaking views of crags and a strange-looking flat mountain off to the west. “It’s hard to believe we are so close to the palace.”

Alex nodded in agreement. “Aye. That large rise over there behind Salisbury crags is called Arthur’s Seat.” He must have seen her look of confusion. “At one time it was called Archer’s Seat. And you can see why—it looks like a ledge with an unobstructed view for as far as the eye can see.”

“It’s magnificent,” she said wistfully. “It makes me feel not quite so far from home.”

Alex broke into a wide smile, obviously appreciating her enthusiasm. Meg felt as though she’d been felled by a bolt of lightning. The radiance of that smile transformed his face. He looked charmingly young, revealing a glimpse of the lighthearted boy he must have been before life and war had hardened him.

“You miss Skye?” he asked.

“Don’t you?”

“Of course,” he answered, clearly taken aback that she would even question it.

“I miss everything about it.” She sighed. “I miss the hypnotic roll of the water that fills every vista at Dunakin, the sounds of the pipers, the evenings spent around a fire listening to the stories of the
seannachie,
the smell of the sea, the sight of the
birlinns
bobbing on the loch, and so much more.” She wrinkled her nose with a playful smile. “Even the smell of herring.”

“All the symbols of our Island way of life that King James seeks to destroy,” Alex said, not hiding his resentment. “Even our language is offensive to the king and serves only as further evidence of our barbarity.”

“I fear that the old ways of the clans are coming to an end,” Meg said, her voice tinged with regret.

England.
Scotland’s enemy for generations was now ruled by a Scot. Delicious irony, perhaps, but old prejudices and old habits were hard to forget. And now the king had the means to enforce his policies against those he termed the “barbarians” of the Isles.

“Not if I can help it.”

The fire in his voice caught her attention. She spun around to look at him. Anger consumed his whole body. This was not a man interested only in fighting. She gave him an appraising glance. He was much more involved in politics than he let on.

His response was typical of her countrymen. She understood his frustration, but she also understood the reality of their predicament. She’d had this conversation with Jamie and Elizabeth countless times. “James is king of England now, not just Scotland. He has the strength of two governments behind him. Already the authority of the chiefs has been curtailed by the General Band. Whether you like it or not, Alex, there will not be much the chiefs can do to prevent change.”

He looked at her as if she were a traitor. “How can you sound so philosophical, so complacent, about something so important? Don’t you care about your home, about your people?”

His voice teemed with passion and conviction. But what did a mercenary care about justice or politics?

“Of course I do,” she said evenly. “I love everything about our Highland way of life. But I’m also trying to be practical. It is not a matter of black or white. We must seek new solutions with King James or we can all end up like the MacGregors.”

“What do
you
know about the MacGregors?”

Meg was surprised by the vehemence in his tone. He’d reacted as if she’d slurred him personally. “Enough to know that they are doomed. The king has stripped them of their land and even of their name. I know that they are hunted men forced to turn outlaw to survive.” He was trying not to show it, but Meg could see that every muscle in his body rejected what she was trying to say. Her voice lowered to soften the blow of her words. “I know enough to understand that if we don’t find a way to get along with King James, our own clans will suffer the same fate as the MacGregors. Aren’t your brother’s lands already forfeit?”

His grip on his reins tightened, turning his knuckles white. Clearly he wanted to disagree, but he couldn’t. “Technically, perhaps. But King James will never hold Dunvegan.”

“I hope you are right, for the Mackinnons’ fate is tied to the fate of the other clans on Skye. If Dunvegan falls, Dunakin would also be in jeopardy. I don’t want Skye to be the next Lewis, with the king attempting to colonize our land with Lowlanders.”

“It won’t be,” he said flatly.

She’d barely heard him, but from his tone Meg realized there was something important that he’d left unsaid. Abruptly, Alex turned away from her. He was shutting her out, trying to put the wall between them again. Whenever she felt they were starting to get close, he pulled back. But not this time. She wouldn’t let him. “For a man so obviously passionate about his home, why have you been fighting someone else’s wars?”

He looked at her and shook his head. “You don’t ever give up.” A smile hovered at the edges of his mouth.

She shrugged. “Where did you say you’d been fighting?”

His jaw fell in a hard, uncompromising line. By his reaction, Meg knew she was getting close.

“I didn’t,” he said.

“Well, then, where were you?”

“Here and there,” he answered vaguely, clearly growing impatient with her interrogation.

From the set of his shoulders, she could tell that she’d pushed him as far as he would go. So she switched tactics. “How long have you been away from home?”

“Almost three years.”

Meg couldn’t imagine leaving home for so long. “But why?” she asked.

“I had to get away for a while.”

“After your imprisonment?”

“Shortly thereafter.” He sounded disgusted with himself for even talking about this. “After I was released, I returned to Dunvegan for a while to stand in for my brother, who was being held by Argyll at the bequest of the king. The king was angry about the feuding between the clans. Rory returned, and I left soon after he hand-fasted Isabel.”

Were the rumors of his falling-out with his brother true? “But why did you leave?”

He shrugged. “It was time for me to get out on my own for a while. There were things I needed to do. I suppose I was restless.”

Meg was beginning to understand. A man like Alex would not be content to live under another man’s shadow. A leader in his own right, Alex needed to make his own way. But she felt there was more that he wasn’t telling her. Something that was calamitous enough to drive him away from his home and family. And to keep him from her.

“And have you found what you were looking for?” she asked quietly.

He gave her a long, meaningful look. “No,” he said. “Not yet.”

Her heart fell to the floor. It was a warning. A not too subtle way of telling her to keep her distance, that there was no future for them. But from the dull ache in her chest, Meg suspected that it was a warning that may have come too late.

They entered the shadow of the trees, and the temperature dropped considerably. The heavy wool fabric of her gown, which had been too warm a few minutes ago, now felt quite comfortable. Although there were still a few hours of daylight, it was eerily dark; the soft orange rays of the sun had not the strength to penetrate the thick canopy of trees.

Meg sighed, disheartened by Alex’s comments. She sank deeper into her saddle, tired and anxious to return to her rooms, both to rest and to consider what she’d learned. One thing was for certain, Alex was not simply the mercenary soldier he wanted her to think he was.

And with the way her heart skipped every time she looked at him, discovering the truth had become imperative.

Alex didn’t like being put on the spot, being scrutinized so carefully. He could sense her disappointment, but she wanted answers he just could not give her. “What about you, Meg? Have
you
found what you were looking for?’

She collected herself and said matter-of-factly, “Perhaps, but I have to be sure. The future of our clan is at stake; there is no room for mistakes.”