Chapter 11

All her life, Lucy had wanted to be free. As soon as she revealed the truth to Ian, she could feel her heart opening. Knowing that he was concerned about the sincerity of the kiss made her feel ashamed. Lying to him had been a blight on her soul, and for once, she wanted to be purely honest with him, to show him how she truly felt. Naked desire burned in her breast and when she looked into his eyes she felt a deep connection with him, and it was impossible to pretend like the kiss between them had never happened. She yearned to taste him again, to feel his arms around her, to lose herself to the passionate frenzy that so claimed their souls.

The first kiss had been a fleeting thing, a quick blur that was over so quickly it could almost have been said that it never happened at all. This was different. Their lips locked together, crashing like the tides against the shore. Their hands were all over each other, their bodies pressed so tightly that the rhythm of their hearts thrummed together, and it was impossible to tell them apart.

His strong hands were around her waist, fingers digging into her skin. He whirled her around, lifting her effortlessly onto the counter. His muscles were imbued with strength, tension coiled along his shoulders. Her fingers grazed his thick neck, running through his tousled hair. She breathed in the scent of him. It was masculine and raw, seeping out of every pore, inflaming her desire, intoxicating her even more than the whiskey. But, like the whiskey, she wanted to drink in every part of him. The frustration, anguish, and mistrust had all formed a potent cocktail that now flooded over them, revealing itself in a raw, breathless frenzy of kisses.

Ian's lips moved to her neck, sending tingles shooting all over her body, like flashes of lightning. His breath washed over her, and small, terse grunts burst against her eardrums. She clung to him, her fingers pressing into the sinews of his back, feeling the outline of his sturdy muscles. She pawed at his top, wanting to tear it off, wanting to give in to all these new and sudden desires that careened through her body. It was as though she had been tossed into a fire and set ablaze, with uncertainty and innocence being burned away. Their tongues lashed together. Soaring moans escaped her parted lips. She curled her legs around the trunk of his body, wrapping herself around him like vines. He squeezed her thighs, digging his thumbs deep into her flesh, and she flung her neck back, lost in ecstasy. She bit hard on her lower lip as a deep ache sang within her body, as rivers of blood gushed through her, as she was ready to lose herself to him, feeling that she was on the precipice of something wonderful, some divine…

And then they heard a noise from upstairs. There was a groggy look on Ian's face as he pulled himself away and looked askance at the staircase, frowning. Was it another guard? Was it another stray cat that had been attracted to this place by Ginger's scent? Whatever it was, Lucy had a baleful glare in her eyes as the passion was beginning to ebb away.

"Are ye down here?" Rory cried, his footsteps heavy on the stairs. Ian muttered a curse under his breath and took his hands away from Lucy's legs, breaking the spell. He stepped back and Lucy immediately felt the heat slipping away. Her lips yearned for more, her body was crying out for him to take her in his arms again and drag her down into a sweet abyss, but it was not to be.

"What's wrong?" Rory said when he entered the basement and saw the strange looks on their faces. Lucy turned her head away, not wishing to display her immodesty. Ian had his hands on his hips. He had his back towards her. Lucy took deep breaths, trying to calm her thumping heart and the sensations that raged within her.

"There's been a wee wrinkle," Ian replied, and then proceeded to tell Rory the truth, the whole, entire, complete truth about Lucy's past. Rory heard everything. Lucy bowed her head, hoping that Rory wouldn't be too angry with her. He had shown her kindness after all.

"I see," Rory replied with equanimity.

"That's all ye hae tae sae?" Ian asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I understand if ye are angry with me. I hope ye can understand why I did what I did," Lucy explained.

Rory's lips curled into a smirk. "I hae known many thieves in my time, and ye dinnae seem like one. I thought there might be some other story."

"Sae ye dinnae believe me all this time?" Lucy gasped.

"And when were ye gaeing tae tell me about this?" Ian rounded on Rory, glaring at him.

Rory merely shrugged his shoulders. "I dinnae say I was sure, I just hae my suspicions, that's all. I can tell ye something though, Lucy, ye make a more convincing thief than ye dae a maid," he wore a cheeky grin. Lucy wore a shocked expression and gasped, while Ian laughed. She didn't mind the good-natured teasing, as it showed that things were settled between all of them. "If ye knew my sister, then ye would both know that it takes a lot tae hide things from me. She taught me tae be a careful observer. There's nae much that escapes my attention." As he said this, he leaned down and rubbed his fingers together, making a high-pitched noise to attract Ginger's attention. She raced out and came up to him, nuzzling into his hand and welcoming his affectionate strokes. She arched her back and showed him her throat, allowing him to scratch under her chin. Her tail wagged and she purred loudly.

Lucy and Ian glanced at each other, sharing a conspiratorial look. Whatever happened between them was something cloaked in secrecy, something personal to them. Her heart fluttered and even though she was frustrated that things between them had ended abruptly, she hoped that another moment would present itself, a moment when they would be able to seize their desires. Ian was nothing like the men Hamish Glennrock had chosen for his daughter, but that was part of the appeal. But Lucy knew deep down that she had not kissed Ian purely to rebel against Hamish, rather it was one of the few things in her life she had been able to do simply because she wanted to. There were no discussions about how it would look or how it would reflect upon him, no rehearsals of how she should act or what she should say, as though she was merely some puppet that was designed to dance to Hamish's tune. She enjoyed a secret smile, and warmth simmered under her skin. Ian had stoked a fire in his forge many times, but now he had stoked one in her.

"It's gaeing tae be hard for ye tae leave if yer Da is intent on finding ye. I can imagine he hae the full backing of the Laird," Rory said, continuing, oblivious to the thick tension in the room.

"It's a shame Lady Boyd cannae help persuade her husband tae call off the search," Ian said.

"He thinks of my father like a brother. He will dae everything he can tae track me down. I know Da wants tae punish me. I just need tae stay away from him long enough sae that he gives up looking. I know he would rather ignore me than hae everyone look for a lifetime. I bet part of this search is just tae make sure that I hae left the village."

"Then we should try and convince him that this is the case," Rory said.

"What dae ye mean? Usually ye prefer tae steer clear of trouble," Ian looked a little confused. Rory looked at them both.

"I dinnae like bringing attention tae us, but this is the opposite. We dinnae know how long the guards are gaeing tae keep searching for Lucy, but that's because they hae nae been given any indication that she hae left. What if we spread rumors that a mysterious figure hae been seen traveling north? It only takes a wee word in a few taverns and suddenly the story will spring tae life. Believe me, I hae seen it happen before. My sister was always a gifted storyteller."

Ian stroked his chin and then gave Lucy a deferential look.

"I suppose if it makes them look elsewhere, then it's a good idea. I hope that people cannae track the rumor back tae ye, though, else they might start wondering how ye know," Lucy said.

Ian shrugged. "We can say we saw someone running away on one of our deliveries," Ian said. It seemed to be a good plan, and Rory was proud that they had listened to him. They had something to eat and then headed out to spread the word. Lucy hated that she had to stay behind, and soon after Ian left, she longed for him to return. She closed her eyes and thought about his hands running all over her body, losing herself in the hot memory of the embrace they shared, her mind twisting and tumbling, unfurling with rapid thoughts about what might have happened if they had not been interrupted.

* * *

Ian and Rory split up,heading into different taverns. Ian found it difficult to concentrate after what had happened with Lucy. There was no longer any doubt that her feelings were genuine, but he was conflicted inside. There was something unstoppable about the passion he felt for her, yet he could not shake the feeling that it was leading him to a doom-ridden path. He had fought so hard to resist being tangled up in emotions, yet here he was, falling for Lucy. He dreaded to think where it was going to lead, but he also knew that he couldn't just rip these feelings out of his heart.

He settled down with an old man called Wilf. He was a constant presence at the bar, as though he was part of the furniture. Ian spoke in a low tone.

"Hae ye heard about the fugitive? Some thief stole Lady Boyd's jewels."

"I know, terrible, is nae it?" Wilf said, shaking his head.

"Hae ye seen anyone lurking around?"

"Cannae say that I hae. What about ye?"

"Well, the other night I was coming back from a delivery and I think I might hae seen someone in a cloak traveling north. It was dark and ye know how tricky the shadows of the night can be, but I called out tae them and I'm sure that they quickened their pace."

Wilf's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, well, that is suspicious!"

"Aye, but I was wondering if ye hae seen anything similar? I know ye like tae stay out late. Hae there been anything strange in the shadows as ye hae been walking home?"

"Nae, I dinnae think sae."

"Think harder, ye know what it's like tae peer intae the shadows."

"I dae at that."

"And hae ye never seen something that ye thought was a person?"

Wilf paused for a moment. "Well, I suppose sae…"

Ian gripped his bony arm tightly and hissed his words. "Then ye might hae seen the thief! Oh, Wilf, I am glad I am nae the only one who saw them. Perhaps there are others as well. Ye should ask other people if they hae seen the same thing as us. Maybe if we all come together, we can track the thief down. I'm sure they were heading north. Would ye agree with that?"

Wilf looked confused for a moment, but then he supposed that if Ian was telling him this, then it must have been true. He nodded along, happily believing that he had indeed seen the thief. After all, why would Ian lie to him?