Chapter Four

Finian's hand came down to caress her breast, his thumb edging the tight nipple. A tremulous sensation broke over her, and Alys gave herself over to the unexpected aching. She closed her eyes, leaning against him as he rubbed the tip. Abruptly, he took his hand away. "Remember what I asked you."

The struggle between modesty and her desire to forget the past warred inside her until she guided his hand back to her breast. "It feels good when you touch me there."

As if to reward her for the confession, he nibbled at her fingertips, moistening them. Then he brought her own fingers down to one of her nipples, urging her to stroke the damp skin. Goose flesh rose upon her breasts, and he blew his warm breath upon the other nipple with his mouth. She let out a shivered breath at the tantalizing response.

Her body erupted with liquid heat as his hands passed over her ribs, to her stomach. He palmed her bottom, gently parting her legs with one hand. Then he sat back, staring at her upon the bed. The instinct to pull away came over her without warning, and she tried to close her knees. Immediately, he stopped, pulling his hand away.

"You took me by surprise," she admitted.

"It was only yesterday that you lost your husband." Reaching down, Finian pulled the coverlet over her body. He rolled her over, resting beside her. "I don't think you're ready for this."

He truly intended to leave her alone, she realized. He wasn't going to make love with her because he believed she was using him to forget the past.

She lay beside him, staring up at the ceiling. Was that what she was doing? Using this man? Slowly, she looked over at him. Finian was the only man she'd ever met who had kept his promises to others. Though he'd wronged the MacKinloch clan in the past, Finian had made amends and saved the chief's daughter. He'd given his vow to take care of her, granting her the choice of where to go.

If he were to walk out of her life so that she never saw him again, she would feel the emptiness of losing him. When he looked upon her, he made her feel as if she'd given him back the world. As if she were worthy of being loved.

"On my wedding night, Robert tore off my shift in front of the witnesses. He consummated the marriage and I remember nothing but humiliation from the first night I spent on this bed."

Finian said nothing, but she saw the flash of anger in his eyes.

"I learned to lie still and endure it. And I was glad when he took mistresses, for then he left me alone."

Alys rolled to her side, pressing her bottom against the length of Finian's shaft. His arms came up around her, and he whispered in her ear, "If he were still alive, I'd kill him for that."

She moved his hand back to her breast, then touched his heavy thigh. "I want to know what it would have been like with a man who cared for me."

Within her words, Finian heard the sadness. And when she took his hand, moving it against her erect nipple and down lower, he fought to keep his desire under control. She guided his hand back to the entrance of her womanhood, his palm resting against the silken curls.

But when she reached back and moved his shaft between her legs, he nearly lost his senses. He could feel the moisture there, the sensual mystery of her.

"We hardly know each other," he murmured against her nape, his fingers searching for the hooded flesh above her cleft. "Do you truly want a stranger in your bed?"

"You're not a stranger," she said, her palm surrounding his length. When she stroked him, he let out a hiss, answering her gesture by sliding a single finger within her wet center.

"Who am I to you, then?"

"The man who gave me back a part of myself." She squeezed him lightly, her thumb edging the bead of fluid upon his manhood. "The night you touched me, I felt like the wife I should have been. And I want you to show me the rest."

He stripped back the coverlet, drinking in the sight of her naked body. Her full, rounded breasts were tipped with dusky pink nipples, while a triangle of dark hair shielded her womanhood. Finian rolled her to her back and parted her legs, gently bending her knees up until he exposed the pink center of her.

With his fingers, he caressed her delicate flesh, leaning in to breathe against her inner thigh. He nudged the soft skin with his mouth, drawing dangerously close to her center. His tongue slid a path across her thigh while he lifted her bottom. Then across the other thigh, he kissed her, until she was gripping the sheets with her fists.

"Alys," he whispered, and he saw her flinch, almost afraid of him. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to touch me there again," she pleaded.

"Where?" He rose up on his forearms and sucked against her nipples, enjoying the sound of the moan that tore from her throat. Her hands moved into his hair, while her legs opened wider. When he released her breasts, she was shaking, her skin flushed.

"Or did you mean here?" he murmured, lowering his hand to the hooded entrance.

She nearly came apart when he used his fingers to draw out her arousal. He stroked her center, using his thumb to press in a rhythm until her breathing shattered and she arched hard.

"Yes," she managed, raising up her knees again. "Finian, I need you."

He sensed her coming so close to the release, he backed off a little, trying to prolong the sensations. He wanted to show her what it meant to be fulfilled, to find release.

And then, he watched as her body shuddered, tightening with ecstasy as she came apart. With his fingers, he stimulated her again, until he knew she was wet and ready for him. When he sheathed himself inside her, she was so tight, his own hands dug into the mattress to keep from spilling his seed that very moment.

Alys saw the tension upon Finian's face, and when he was fully impaled within her, she struggled not to move. The urge to press her body closer, to feel her naked breasts against his strong chest, was hard to suppress. Instead, she drew her hands to his hips, careful to avoid the healing wounds on his back.

When he started to withdraw, she was so afraid he would stop, she arched her hips to sheathe him again. The expression on his mouth changed, and though he tried to keep his penetrations gentle, she no longer wanted gentle.

"Take me," she commanded, wrapping her legs around his waist. He plunged within her, and the heady feeling started to transform her until she could no longer bear it. Every motion, every touch, seemed to draw forth the woman she wanted to be. The woman who was no longer afraid to live, hiding in the shadow of others. The woman who would take this pleasure and give everything of herself in return.

"I'll let no man harm you again," Finian gritted out as he kept up the pulsing rhythm. She climaxed again, the shimmering release tearing apart her inhibitions. In a sudden motion, he withdrew and pressed her legs to her stomach, lifting her hips and driving inside her secret flesh once more. The new position allowed him to go deeper, and Alys writhed in the sheets, moving in counterpoint to his thrusts until she was shaking so hard, she cried out during his own shuddering release.

Still inside her, Finian lay atop her. Her body was warm, sated and sweaty. He rolled her to her side, his mouth against her damp throat. There were no words for what he'd just given her. Unlike the times she'd shared Robert's bed, she didn't feel as if she'd disappointed Finian. He kept stroking her skin, murmuring endearments in Gaelic that she didn't understand.

And when she fell asleep against him, she felt contented.

In the early hours of the morning, Finian awakened to find Alys snuggled within his arms. Her warm naked backside was nestled against him, and he pulled her closer, his body swelling with arousal. For the first time last night, nightmares hadn't plagued him. He hadn't dreamed of his daughter locked in chains. Nor had he relived the pain of the lash.

Instead, he'd been given a gift he didn't deserve. This beautiful, fragile woman had offered herself to him, wanting only to forget the dark shadow of her marriage. It didn't seem real, and though he'd vowed his protection, never had he imagined that Alys would let him love her.

He couldn't stop thinking of the way she'd yielded to him, or the soft gasp when he'd filled her. Watching her succumb to the pleasure of lovemaking, letting her climax over and over, had taken last night beyond his understanding.

But what if she wanted him to take her back to England? What if she wanted him to leave her now?

He withdrew from her, trying to regain control over his body. He didn't want her anywhere out of his sight. Though she might not know it, by letting him join with her, she'd sealed her fate. He wasn't going to let this woman go.

And that meant he had to take her away from here before the English soldiers returned. Quietly, he rose from the bed and dressed. He picked up her gown and leaned down to kiss her awake.

The softness of sleep clung to her face, but Alys yielded when his mouth coaxed her to open. The tentative touch of her tongue made him slide his own against hers, deepening the embrace.

Finian pulled back the coverlet, and she clung to him, making him wish he could love her once more before they left. "Alys," he said against her mouth. "We have to leave."

He pulled back and it took her a moment to realize where she was. Her face grew worried, as if she'd suddenly regretted the way she'd given herself to him.

He said nothing of it, helping her to don her shift and gown. Alys dressed quickly, finding her shoes and following him to his daughter's chamber. "Gather your kinsmen," she said, "and I'll follow with Iliana and my maid."

Finian went below stairs and woke his brother, alerting the others. With Brochain at his side, they went to the gate house where his kinsman Alan stood watch.

"Was there any sign of the garrison?" Finian asked.

"No. It's been silent all night."

"Good." Reaching for a torch, Finian ordered, "We're going to take the women by horseback, keeping to the hills. We'll have to pass by Harkirk's soldiers on the way to Moristerry." Though he didn't know if it was safe to return to their lands, it was the only home they had.

Behind him, he heard the footsteps of the women. Iliana wore warm clothing that was slightly too big for her, no doubt given to her by Alys. Her maid Jeanne took his daughter's hand in hers.

"Are you ready?" Finian asked.

They nodded. Silently, they passed through the gates, Iliana and Jeanne sharing a horse. Finian swept Alys up on horseback, riding behind her. To Brochain, he ordered, "If any threat occurs, take the women and return to Moristerry. I'll stand guard with the others."

Alys stiffened at the mention of an attack, but Finian held her close as he drew the horse into the woods edging the hills.

"I never even looked for the silver," she said, under her breath. "Do you suppose Sir Geoffrey was right?"

"It doesn't matter. We'll return to Moristerry and if they want it, they can search for it themselves."

They rode through the valley, toward the English garrison that would soon emerge in front of them. As they drew closer, Finian started shifting their path into the hills in an effort to avoid a confrontation with the soldiers. They rode for several minutes, and Finian leaned closer to Alys, whispering. "Are you all right after last night?"

She turned her face slightly toward him. "I never knew there could be such pleasure between a man and a woman." Her cheeks flushed as she whispered, "Is it always like that?"

"It was never like that for me. Only with you."

She looked startled by his answer, as if she didn't know what to say. Finian covered her hands with his, slowing the pace of their horse as the camp of the English soldiers came into view. Behind him, Brochain kept a close watch over Iliana and Jeanne while the others remained within a close distance.

Though it was not quite dawn, Finian could see the faint light of coals from the camp fires. He motioned for them to leave the pathway, traveling higher up the hillside, in an effort to stay clear of the soldiers.

But just as they reached the trees, Finian spied a single torch ahead. He tried to pull them back, but the silvery glint of chainmail armor emerged within the forest. The soldiers had been waiting for them, it seemed.

Finian dismounted, unsheathing the sword he'd stolen from the armory a day ago. He handed the reins of his horse to Alys, giving her the means to flee if she needed to.

He glanced backward at his brother, who was already shielding Iliana and moving towards Alys. Brochain would keep his word; Finian could trust in that.

"Did you bring my silver?" came the voice of Sir Geoffrey.

"No." Alys tightened her grip on the reins. "And even if there was any silver, it was never yours."

"Bitch," the knight growled, charging towards her. "You'll give it to me or suffer the consequences."

Finian lunged forward with his sword, striking out against the knight to keep him from reaching Alys. His weapon bit into the wood of Sir Geoffrey's shield.

The knight motioned for his men to close in. It wouldn't be a fair fight, and Finian had only one chance to free Alys. He slapped the horse's flank and ordered, "Go with Brochain. Now!"

She faltered a moment, and Finian swung hard as four more attackers circled him. He knew there was no hope of escaping—there were too many men outnumbering him. But he could save his family.

"Alys, you've no choice!" he commanded. "Go!" She looked stricken, but at last obeyed, riding hard with Brochain, back the way they had come.

Finian didn't care if he died protecting them. As long as she and his daughter were safe, that was all that mattered. More soldiers closed in, and he kept swinging his blade, praying to God that Brochain would keep his daughter and Alys alive.

"We have to go back for him," Alys pleaded when Brochain wouldn't stop riding.

"I will. But not until you and Iliana are safe. He made me swear it." The man kept up a punishing pace, leading them farther away from the garrison. Alys felt the choking fear rising up. Finian didn't deserve to be abandoned. Not after everything he'd done.

She pulled her horse to a stop. "No. The longer we wait, the greater the chance that they've killed him already. I won't let that happen."

"And why would you care, Lady Harkirk? My brother means nothing to you."

"You're wrong." She struggled to keep from crying, for tears would do no good. "He's a good man and doesn't deserve to die."

"I agree with you. But if anything happens to Iliana, he'll have my head for it."

She saw the child listening to them, and she led her horse back to Finian's daughter. The young girl was trying hard to be brave, but everyone knew that Finian was in terrible danger.

"Don't be afraid," Alys murmured. "We're going to get your father back," she said to Iliana, reaching out to squeeze the girl's hands.

"What if they've killed him?"

"I don't think they have," she reassured the child, though inwardly she didn't know if it was true. "They want the silver Lord Harkirk hid within the fortress."

Iliana's gaze narrowed. "The silver?"

"Yes. I don't know if we'll find it, but perhaps if we lead them there, the search will buy us time."

The young girl seemed to think for a moment. A sadness passed over her face, as if she remembered the time when Harkirk had held her prisoner. Then she asked suddenly, "Would they trade my father for a ransom?"

Alys didn't know what to say. If there were any coins at all, she'd never seen them. "I promise you, we'll try everything to save him."

Iliana nodded thoughtfully and then raised her gray eyes to Alys. "Good. Because I know where the silver is."