To Steal a Highlander's Heart (3 page)

She
still found it hard to believe that sweet Morgann wanted to kidnap her. Glancing
down at her mud-streaked gown, she grimaced. How could he treat her so?
Whatever the reason, undoubtedly some kind of desperation drove him. She had
seen it clearly in his eyes.

Moving
higher still, she peered over a rock and her heart bounced against her ribs.
Damnation. Atop his mount, Morgann drove it furiously along the valley path.
She ducked down as he scanned the land. What should she do? Continue on? Hide?
Though fairly high up, it wouldn’t take much climbing to find her.

Endeavouring
to put more distance between her and her would-be captor, Alana tied her skirts
into a messy knot and kicked off her leather shoes. Climbing was easier without
them. The rain slowed to a trickle as she continued her ascent but the ground
proved to be sodden and harder than ever to navigate.

Damn
the man. What had started as a beautiful morning of freedom had ended up with
her covered from head to toe in mud and probably lost in the hills of the
Highlands. Dark tortured eyes danced in front of her vision and she cursed him
aloud. What had happened to bring about such a change? Was it just her father’s
treatment of him or was it something more? Ach, well she’d never find out now.
She would not stay to find out. How could she when her capture would bring
about the worst battle either clan had ever seen? For she knew her disappearance
would spark great anger and both sides were just waiting for a reason to
slaughter the other.

How
she yearned for the days when they stood side by side. It seemed so long ago
now yet only eight summers had passed since a time when both families lived and
worked together to defeat their common enemies.

She
sighed. Dreams of peace were folly, as her da liked to remind her. If they could
not return to a time when things were better then all she could do was ensure
she did not fall into Morgann’s hands again. It was her duty as a Dunleith
daughter to keep the peace.

As
Alana peered over her shoulder to check on her progress, her footing gave way.
She let out a scream as she fell forward, injured wrist giving way as she
braced herself. An agonising pain shot through her head and all went dark.

***

The
faery’s pointed ears pricked up as she heard the scream. Tèile peered at the
Highland warrior and waited. He stiffened but continued riding. Silly human.
How had he not realised it was Alana? Surely he felt her nearby? But then they
had not had much time together yet and he had changed. His heart had become
hard and impenetrable whereas Alana’s remained open and vulnerable. It was a
dangerous combination.

Tèile
rubbed a green hand across her face. The stupid horse had spotted her climbing
out of the pouch and had been startled. The animal kingdom’s ability to see
faeries really was a hindrance sometimes. Until she achieved her goal, Tèile
was to stay with either Morgann or Alana. She had made the wrong choice,
staying with Morgann as he hunted down his ride. She should have realised Alana
would never stay, in spite of her burning curiosity. Too dutiful, that girl.
But her spirit was to be admired.

She
just hoped the girl wasn’t grievously harmed. Tèile had little control over the
human body, there were other faeries who held that power. The connection
between the two humans should have been enough without her having to interfere
anyway, what with their shared past, but something prevented them both from
seeing what was in front of them.

Jabbing
a pointed finger into Morgann’s neck as she rested on his shoulder, she
chuckled as he scowled and rubbed at the spot. Served him right, foolish man.
Did he not know how to treat a lady? Throwing her down into the mud and trying
to tie her up was no way to secure a mate. Though Tèile had thought the moment
when Morgann had lain across Alana would lead to a kiss and bring her that much
closer to goal. She huffed. Silly, silly humans. They were so blind to life.

Eyes
closed, Tèile sought out Alana. They were close, she felt her essence calling
out to Morgann. She just needed to get him to stop. Mayhap the daft mare could
help.

The
faery hopped down and clutched at the horse’s mane as she settled herself near
its ear and whispered.

***

Casting
his gaze around, Morgann tightened his grip on the reins. Foolish lass. Didn’t
she know how easy it was to get lost in the mountains? Apprehension leached
through his limbs and clutched at his chest. If she came to any harm…

Ach,
if she came to any harm there would be no one to blame but himself. He should
have at least tried to explain or coerce her, not treat her like some prize to
be bargained with. But desperation had stolen his manners and his sense. Alana could
potentially right all the wrongs of eight years ago and finally bring his
stepmother to justice. And he needed to act fast. He could not go on thwarting
her plans forever.

 Caraid’s
ears fluttered and Morgann tensed. He couldn’t fathom what had come over her.
She had never bolted before.
Never.
A sense of something ominous
lingered in the air, forcing bile into his throat. Alana was hurt. How he knew
that, he couldn’t say.

“Hell
fire,” he exclaimed as his mount’s ears twitched again and she skidded to a
halt, almost sending him toppling from her.

Gathering
his breath for a moment and allowing his pulse to slow, he studied the scenery.
He had assumed Alana would take the shortest and easiest route through the
mountains but then how well did she even know the land? He’d heard her father
kept her locked away and before then she never travelled unaccompanied. Mayhap
she had little clue where to go.

And
mayhap he’d terrified her that much that she’d ventured up the peaks in an effort
to hide from him. God’s blood but he was a beast.

Morgann
dismounted, swept his wet hair from his face and stared at the peaks on either side
of him. It could take days to search each crag and boulder. A prickle swept
down his arm and he felt the faint sensation of someone tugging on his shirt.
When he glanced at Caraid, she appeared to be motioning with her head toward a
point midway up the mountain. He scowled. God’s teeth, what was he thinking,
relying on strange ‘feelings’ and the intuition of his horse?

But
regardless, he patted her flank. “I’ll get her, Caraid. Never fear.”

He
wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure himself or her. Hand curled around his
sword, he began the journey up the mountain, peering around every rock, heart
in his throat. Images of Alana fatally injured or worse assaulted him. How could
he live with himself if he was responsible for her death?

Unable
to prevent himself, a faint smile tugged at this lips as he remembered the
sweet lass who’d followed him around since they were young. Their friendship
had developed into a firm one of teasing and laughter. But she always took him
too seriously, believed too much in every word he said. Mayhap she actually believed
he intended to harm her. While he admired her spirit, her naivety always
concerned him.

However
the years had certainly fed her courage. He couldn’t imagine her fighting him
off before. Now it seemed she was a determined lass. Unfortunately she was
determined to evade him and put herself in mortal danger.

The
mountainside proved to be slippery underfoot and he had to snatch out at the
protruding rocks to keep his footing as he surveyed the land. A flash of blue
fabric snared his attention and he hurried over to it.

 
Hell
fire, Alana’s plaid.

At
least he was on the right track. But if she was out in the wilds barely
clothed, she was bound to catch a chill. The thought pushed him to climb faster
until his breathing grew ragged and his limbs began to ache.

And
then his heart juddered to a stop.

Morgann
clambered up the hillside, dropping to his knees beside her. She lay on her
front, caked in mud, face ashen and serene. As he reached out to her, he noted
his hands shook. Lord, he’d only just found her again, he couldn’t lose her
now.

Cannae
lose her? She isn’t even mine.

Never
mind that his heart threatened to burst in agony.

He
pressed his fingers to her neck and the agony dissipated as he felt the
faintest of beats. Releasing a long breath, he rolled her tentatively over and
used his plaid to wipe the worst of the grime from her face. As he studied the
curve of her cheek, he shook his head. Damn everything to hell. This was all
his fault.

Too
used to keeping secrets, that was his problem. He should have confided in her
when he had the chance. The lass he’d known would never have doubted him. But
how could he have told her the truth about her father? It would have broken her
heart.

One
hand under her head, he gathered her into his arms, tamping down on the tremor
of pleasure rolling through him. Aye, he did not deny he enjoyed having Alana in
his arms but what he would not give to have her in his arms under different circumstances.

Once,
all those years ago, mayhap that would have been possible. He’d always clung to
the hope that in another life that may have come to pass.

A
faint tease of a breath blew across his neck and she mumbled as she buried her
head into his neck. He uttered up a prayer of thanks and tried to ignore the
shiver it sent through him as he carefully made his way down the mountainside.

Morgann
found another decent sized rock once he reached the bottom that would provide
enough shelter from the cold. Clicking to Caraid, it pleased him to note the mare’s
jumpy countenance had calmed and she obeyed him instantly, coming to stand beside
him.

 Morgann
bent down and gingerly pressed Alana under the rock. Lying beside her, he attempted
to warm her with his body. Her eyes fluttered open and she grinned sleepily at
him as he leaned over to study her head. A tiny dribble of blood seeped from
under her hair but it was too wet to tell where she’d hurt it. He prayed it
wasn’t a deep cut.

“Morgann?”
she whispered.

“Aye,
‘tis I.”

“I
am glad ye’ve come for me.” She sighed. “I’ve missed ye.”

He
swallowed heavily. God’s blood, she must have fallen hard. “I’ve missed ye
too.”

She
beamed up at him. “It pleases me to hear ye say that.”

Delicate
fingers began creeping up his arm and hooked over his shoulder, holding him closer.
He frowned. “What are ye playing at, lass?”

“Dinnae
ye want to keep me warm, Morgann?”

Aye,
of course he did. He wished to do more than keep her warm. He hungered to strip
her of her clothing and kiss her from head to toe. He wished to plunder her
mouth and see if her kisses were like he’d always dreamed they would be. He
wished to make her
his.

But
he would not take advantage of her and he needed to remember exactly why he’d
taken her. If he handed her back to Laird Dougall ruined, there would be hell
to pay. The fates somewhere were playing a cruel trick indeed, placing this
wet, sensual woman in his arms.

He
huddled up to her, tucking her head into the crook of one arm. The light rain
still soaked his back but the discomfort was nothing compared to the agony of
having Alana flat against him. Highly aware of her slender legs twining with
his, he gritted his teeth and tried to picture something less enticing.

But
nothing came. All he thought of was Alana.

She
tilted her head up and nuzzled into his neck, breath heating his skin. It sent
a shudder through him.

God
help him.

As
if to torture him further, her lips tickled over his neck and he stiffened,
trying to hold her at bay.

“What’s
wrong, Morgann? Dinnae ye want me?” she whispered against his skin.

“I
dinnae want a lass who’s had several knocks to the head. Yer brain is addled.
Ye dinnae know what ye want.”

“Are
ye, the brave Highland warrior, afeared of a harmless lass?”

Harmless?
He could hardly believe sweet Alana was carefully threading her leg between his
and pressing her juncture against his thigh. Her knee brushed against his
arousal—aye, he was insanely aroused—and he held back a groan.

“I
always thought ye would be the one, ye know?” she murmured.

He
frowned down at her. “What is yer meaning?” Alana’s fingers sketched across his
collar bone before rasping up across his bristled jaw and he gulped.

“I
thought ye’d be the one to claim me.”

“Ye
mean…” he trailed off, unable to find the words.

“I’ve
never been with a man,” she said wistfully. “I always wanted it to be ye.”

All
the blood in his body threatened to boil over with such words. It was as if the
thunderstorm had struck him and his whole body was alive with lightening. Only
in scant dreams had he allowed himself to imagine claiming Alana. Their
friendship never had the chance to blossom into anything more than just that,
but he’d always hoped that one day, when they were older, it would happen.

As
had she apparently.