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Chapter 7

H e kept her on her feet all day, walking, moving her arms, exercising the horses, allowing her no more than ten minutes in every hour's span to rest. He left the cave only once, with a bucket to gather snow to be melted for drinking water for themselves and the horses. Other than that, he kept to the same regimen he set for her. He was silent, speaking only when necessary. It would have been easier if he had talked to her. It would have allowed her less time to think of his words.

I intend to let you convince yourself .

You have power .

She had not felt powerful when she had been caught in the throes of their joining. She had been a mad, driven creature, caught in her own search for pleasure.

But Robert had been caught in the same quest. He had led but not tried to conquer. He had been as helpless before that overwhelming carnal tide as she had been.

You're too intelligent a woman to let Sebastian rob you again .

Sebastian had always tried to rob her of all the joys of life. How he would rejoice to know that he could put her back in the cage she had just escaped.

No, she would never let that happen. She would fight it to the last breath and—

"Rest is over. On your feet." Robert was standing before her, holding out his hand. "You have to get moving again."

She let him pull her to her feet.

He released her hand immediately and turned and went to the horses. She watched him as he took Caird's lead and began to walk him in a circle around the cave.

Dear God, he was beautiful. Sinuous and graceful, totally male, with that stormy secret intensity she had found fascinating since the first moment she had met him. She had submerged herself, drowned herself in that intensity last night.

She felt a stirring between her thighs. Lust. Sebastian would have said she was completely lost to carnal sin, but Robert said lust could be clean and beautiful. Whom should she believe?

Not Sebastian. Never Sebastian.

"Why are you just standing there?" Robert asked over his shoulder. "You need to walk. It's still—" He stopped as he saw her expression. "Yes?" he asked softly.

She couldn't speak. She could only stare at him and nod.

He became still, and the air between them seemed charged, heavy, hard to breathe. "Then don't look at me like that—we still have at least two hours to go before dark."

She was suddenly no longer cold. She wanted to touch him. Surely it would be all right just to go to him and touch his cheek?

"No," he said harshly, as if he had read her mind. "I'm holding on by a thread. Go get Rachel's lead and exercise her."

"Very well." She went to Rachel and began petting her muzzle. "It's only because what you said has merit. Sebastian would be robbing me if I denied myself this enjoyment." She took Rachel's lead and began to follow him. "And I found you very…agreeable."

"I know."

"I think you must be very skillful at the act."

"You don't have the experience to judge."

"That's true, but you seem to know…" She felt her muscles tense as she remembered how he had made her body respond to his every touch. "Everything."

"I had excellent tutors."

"In Spain, you said?"

"Aye."

"Where?"

"At the castillo of Don Diego Santanella."

"It seems an unusual subject to teach someone."

"He was an unusual man."

"In what manner?"

"Will your questions never cease?" he asked between his teeth.

"This is all new to me, and I'm unsure. It makes me feel less nervous to talk about it." With effort she kept her tone even. "I regret if I upset you."

"It doesn't upset me."

"I believe it does. Why else would you be so short with me?"

He whirled to face her, his eyes blazing. "Because I'm hard as a rock and trying to keep from pulling you down on that blanket and coming into you."

The crude words should have shocked her. They did not. Excitement rippled through her. "I do not think that would be such an unwise idea," she said breathlessly. "I'll only get more nervous as I wait, and it would—"

"Christ!" He covered the space between them in two steps and grabbed her shoulders. He jerked her down to the blanket.

He was shaking, the pulse leaping in the hollow of his throat. He buried his face in the hair at her temple. "Tell me no."

"Why should I tell you that when I just said—" His lips stopped her words, his tongue entering her mouth to toy frantically with her own. She had not known men kissed that way. He had barely touched her lips last night. She found the action darkly intimate and almost as exciting as that more carnal invasion. He did not give her a chance to savor it. He pushed her back, his hands fumbling at the buttons of her bodice. "Don't move—I have to—"

His lips were cold on her breast, but his tongue was moist and warm as he started to suck strongly, frantically. She arched upward, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Robert!"

"Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't want this—No time." His hands were under her skirt, reaching, searching, frantically adjusting his own clothing.

He was inside her, big, warm, club hard, plunging, rutting. His warm breath plumed the frosty air as his chest lifted and fell with his labored breathing.

Cold. Heat. Desire.

She held desperately to his shoulders as she met him, took him, merged with him.

It was over in only a few wild minutes.

She became gradually conscious of the hardness of the ground beneath her, of Robert lying next to her, gasping, his hand still covering her bare breast.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked quietly.

"No."

"It's a wonder," he said bitterly. "I…lost control."

The words brought an odd, bittersweet pleasure. Robert, who rarely lost control, had been stirred enough to abandon it for her. No, not for her, for her body. Well, that was still part of her. The pain that qualification brought was not reasonable.

His hand on her breast tightened. "Jesus, look at you. It's freezing cold, and I have you nearly naked."

"I…liked it."

"I promised you I'd go slow."

She was tired of him chastising himself. "You're being very foolish. I thought it went very well. How do you know I would even care for this…this slowness?"

He chuckled. "Oh, you'll like it. I'll demonstrate just how pleasurable slowness can be later, when we light the fire and get some warmth in here." He rolled over and began buttoning her bodice. "So, fie on Sebastian?"

She smiled. "Well put. Fie on Sebastian."

Kate gazed languidly into the fire. "If you learned all this from the Spanish, then they must be a very decadent people."

He drew her back against him, fitting her into the hollow of his hips. "At times."

How well they fit together, she thought contentedly. During the last hours she had been more aware of that almost magical togetherness than anything else. It was as if they had been two parts of a whole that had been separated and were now coming together. "But I believe I like this kind of decadence, so I've decided they must not be as bad as everyone says."

"Does that mean you're contemplating asking Philip's protection? Forget it." He added lightly, "You mustn't judge all Spaniards by my example."

"But you're not Spanish, you're Scot."

"Yes, I'm Scot." He was silent a moment. "But my mother is Spanish."

She raised herself on one elbow to look at him. "Truly?"

"Truly." His lips twisted. "Do?a Marguerita Maria Santanella."

"Will I meet her when we reach Craighdhu?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Curiosity again? I thought Sebastian's example had taught you to avoid asking personal questions."

"This is different. Dreams are private. But why should you not tell me something everyone at Craighdhu probably already knows? You know everything about me."

"Not everything." His index finger traced the aureole around her nipple. "I'm discovering new and splendid facets at every turn. Did you know that only one woman in a thousand has the ability to grasp a man with the power that you do? I thought I would go mad when you clenched around me and then squeezed until I—"

"Hush!" Heat flooded her cheeks, and she slapped away his toying hand. "Decadence is well enough, but you do not have to put it into words." Then the full meaning of his sentence hit her. "Thousand? Have you truly had a thousand—you are jesting with me."

"Am I?" He blandly met her gaze, and suddenly his lips were twitching. "Perhaps a slight exaggeration."

"A vast exaggeration. You would have time to do nothing else." She frowned. "And I think you said it only to distract me because you didn't want to answer my question. You're not being fair."

His smile faded. "Why is it important to you that I answer you?"

"It would make me feel…safer." It was not the entire truth. He had possessed her, owned her in a manner that frightened as well as elated her, but she also desperately wanted to know him. That desire had obsessed her since the moment she had met him, and she doubted if he would ever be more open to her than he was at this moment. "Why will I not meet your mother?"

"My mother is residing in a convent in Santanella, where she prays for my soul." He smiled without mirth. "Though she is sure that her prayers are of no avail."

"A convent?"

"She considered it her only recourse when I escaped from her brother, Don Diego, and returned to Craighdhu. She had failed, you see. They had tried to mold me into a true Spaniard and had only succeeded in exaggerating my deplorable Scottish savagery." His lips twisted. "What a pity."

"I don't understand."

"You wish to hear it all? I don't know why, it's all in the past."

"I want to hear it."

He shrugged. "When he was a very young man, my father traveled to a shipyard in Spain seeking to purchase a caravel for our trade with the Irish. Don Diego Santanella, a nobleman who owned the shipyard and practically everything else along the coast, invited him to stay at the castillo until the ship was ready. It was there that he met my mother. She was only seventeen then, and very different from the women he had met before. You may have noticed we Scots have a tendency to be deplorably earthy in nature."

"It's come to my attention."

"She seemed shy and pure and very devout. She was also very, very beautiful. My father went mad for her. He had to have her. It didn't matter to him that she was Spanish and a Catholic or that she wanted to go into a convent and forgo marriage. He went to Don Diego and asked for her hand. To his surprise, his suit was looked on with favor. Diego refused to give a dowry, but he acceded to the marriage. They sailed back to Craighdhu as man and wife." His expression became shuttered. "She hated Craighdhu, she found my father detestable, and when I was born, she found me an annoyance. She spent most of her nights avoiding his bed and her days on her knees praying for deliverance. She had no time for a child. When I was nine, my father suddenly died of a stomach disorder. I've wondered since if it was not caused by a drop or two of poison in his food."

Her eyes widened in shock. "You believe she killed him?"

He shook his head. "But her attendants were all appointed by Don Diego, and he appeared on the scene just two weeks after my father's death. He arrived one night, and the next morning at dawn my mother and I were on a ship bound for Spain."

"Why would he want to kill your father?"

"Craighdhu and our trade routes to Ireland are very valuable. Don Diego made it very clear once I was under his wing that was why he'd given my mother in marriage. He was an ambitious man, and the trade routes are a very rich plum. A plum he couldn't pluck while my father was alive, but if he could mold and control the heir to Craighdhu, then he could control the trade routes. I spent the next four years at his castillo at Santanella being ‘tutored' by the good priests and Don Diego."

"Tutored in what?"

"I was a Protestant, so I had to be taught to abandon such heresy." He added with irony, "Every day I received my gentle lessons from the priests Diego sent to school me."

She remembered the scars on his back. "With the whip?" she whispered.

"Of course, how else? Protestant or Catholic, it is all the same. They all believe they're right and must prove it at all costs." His lips thinned with bitterness. "First, you're given holy words, and next, the whip to enforce it. You should know that truth. Sebastian used his whip on you."

"But he was afraid of the lady, and I was not left scarred."

"Yes, you were." He touched her forehead with a curiously gentle caress. "But not irreparably. You're strong. In time the scars will fade, and you won't even remember where you got them."

But he remembered where he had gotten his scars; he had permanent reminders. She wondered how many of his dreams concerned those afternoons at the castillo. "Didn't your mother try to stop it?"

"Oh, no, she had been raised by the priests and properly shaped in the way she should go. She even forced herself to sit in the same room while they tried to rid me of my devils. She would plead with me to give in and not to make them do this to me."

"She watched them whip you?"

"The priests would bring the whip to her before they started and she would pray over it, asking God to instill it with His holy power. Then she would kiss it and hand it back to Father Dominic."

She felt sick at the picture he painted vividly before her. She had thought her time with Sebastian a horror, but it had not been a systematic daily regimen of torture overseen by the one person who should have been his most ardent defender. The vision was too hurtful to contemplate. She changed the subject. "I don't understand. You said you learned"—she waved a hand to encompass their extremely intimate situation—"this at Santanella. I'm sure the priests did not teach you."

He smiled without mirth. "Don Diego was not nearly as devout as my mother. He believed there were many pleasurable uses for sin. Many evenings he would send for whores from the town and then summon me to his chamber to demonstrate the pleasures that awaited me if I rid myself of my foolish wish to cling to my homeland."

"But you were only a child."

"I didn't stay that way long. Unfortunately, I was too stubborn and lost in sin to accommodate either my mother or Don Diego, so it went on for four years. Punishment in the afternoon, a deliciously corrupt reward in the evening. When I reached my thirteenth year, I managed to run away from Santanella and made my way back to Craighdhu."

"How?"

"Very laboriously. It's a journey I prefer not to relive."

A boy alone, without means, hiding, afraid, traveling over land and sea. It was incredible he had been able to reach Craighdhu safely. "But if you had to get across the—"

"Enough questions. It's over and done." He suddenly rolled her on her back. "You have an enchanting mouth, but there are uses I would rather put it to than talking." His index finger traced her full bottom lip. "A divine mouth…Open…"

For the first time she felt a quaver of uneasiness. She had thought she could embrace this pleasure as Robert did, but was this sense of deep, irreversible bonding entirely customary in these situations? If so, why did it not vanish when the mating was finished? She felt closer to him now than when they had been in the throes of passion.

He pressed on her lower lip. "Open…I want to come in."

She wanted him to come in. She was being foolish to question this pleasure that was deeper than any she had ever received before. Her arms closed around him as she opened her lips.

Darkness lay beyond the opening in the barrier, but Kate could see no sign of snow drifting through that blackness.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Robert nibbled at her earlobe. "If I wasn't vigorous enough to tire you, perhaps I should try again."

He was teasing her. He could not possibly wish to join with her again after these last hours of erotic play. "I think the snow has stopped."

"Aye, earlier this evening. You were a trifle…occupied or you would have noticed yourself."

"That's a good sign, isn't it?" she asked eagerly.

"If it doesn't start again."

"But the storm could have moved on. We could be able to leave."

"Don't think about it. The weather is treacherous this time of year. We could be disappointed a dozen times before we manage to get out of here."

But it was difficult to suppress hope. She had never felt so strong, so alive. She did not want to die. "That's a foolish thing to say. How can I think of anything else?"

"You managed earlier." He went on quickly as she started to speak. "Tell me of this fine home you're going to have someday."

"You don't want to know. You're just trying to distract me."

"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked you. Don't you think I ought to be informed, since it's my gold that's to pay for it?"

It did seem just, but she would rather take advantage of his efforts to distract her in another manner. "Craighdhu. I want to know about Craighdhu."

"You'll see it for yourself soon."

Would she? She shivered as she glanced out into the darkness again. "Tell me anyway."

"It's not a large island. Mountains, steep hills, rocky country. I told you about the barrens."

"Tell me about the castle."

"It's old, very old. It was built by the Norsemen when they first came to conquer and then to settle the land."

"Who was there to conquer?"

"A savage sun-worshiping tribe called the Picts and later the Scots, the first Gaels who came from Ireland." He blew a tendril of hair at her temple. "They all made us what we are."

"The great and fierce Highlanders," she said teasingly. "What does the castle look like?"

"Like any castle. Turrets, stone, a moat. There's nothing unusual about the castle or my island." He shrugged. "Many find it a forbidding place."

"But not you."

He looked into the fire. "Spain is warm and dry, and white jasmine bloomed in the gardens at Santanella. It was everything that poets call beautiful. On the day I stepped on shore at Craighdhu, I was barefoot and my feet were bleeding and the rocks were cold and rough beneath my feet. Night had fallen and torches were burning bright against the gray walls and mists veiled the mountains. It was chill, harsh, and spare."

"And beautiful," she whispered, her gaze on his face.

"I didn't say that."

He did not have to say it. It was there in his expression. Even if Craighdhu was not beautiful to the rest of the world, it was to him. "Home."

"Aye." He smiled. "Home." He glanced away from her. "I'm sure the home you choose will be much more hospitable."

"I don't know what it's going to be like. Whenever I think of it, it's very hazy. But I'll know it when I see it."

"You're so sure?"

She nodded. "I always know when something is going to belong to me, to truly be mine. The first time I saw Carolyn, I knew she was going to be my friend, and the same with Caird."

He chuckled. "If Caird is an example, then I assume beauty has nothing to do with it."

"No, it's like the pieces of a puzzle coming together. I may have to search for it, but when I see it, I'll know."

"And what if we don't find it? Will you settle for something less than your dream?"

"No, that would not be—" She became suddenly aware he had used the word we. "But you need not worry. Once the year is over, I'll hold you to your promise to furnish me with funds, but I will find my own way."

He stiffened. "I suppose I'm just to let you go wandering over the face of the earth," he said sarcastically. "Perhaps you could even join a troop of strolling players."

His roughness stung her after the gentleness that had gone before. "Perhaps I could," she said defiantly.

His arms tightened possessively about her. "It would be just like your idiocy to—I will not have it."

"You'll have no say in the matter. I will be free of you." Her own words were starting a pain somewhere deep within her. She sat up and moved away from his touch. "You won't even have to set eyes on me again. Your Craighdhu will be safe."

"Come back here."

"I do not wish it." She turned to face him. "And I've decided once we're down from this mountain, we should not fornicate again. It is too disturbing."

"You like that disturbance."

"My body likes it, but it is not wise."

His lips tightened. "Sebastian again? I thought we were done with that nonsense."

"Not Sebastian," she said haltingly. "Me. I cannot be like you. I cannot just accept this pleasure. It…affects me. I'm beginning to feel…something."

"Something?"

"I don't know. It confuses me. It's as if…" She tried to put into words the hazy fear that had been looming in the back of her mind. "It's as if whenever we come together, a bell begins striking louder and louder, and suddenly my ears are ringing and everything I am is vibrating with the sound of it. I know I'm part of the ringing, and each time it strikes, I become more a part of it." She nervously ran her fingers through her hair. "It must stop."

"I don't agree."

"But what happens when the bell stops ringing?" she whispered. "You've seen how determined I can be when I try to hold on to what I want. What if I decided I wanted to make it keep on?" She shook her head. "I know you do not feel as I do and that this is all play to you, but can't you see that I—"

"We'll talk about it later," he interrupted, then reached out and drew her back down into his arms again.

"That may be too late."

"Go to sleep," he said roughly. "I'm tired of hearing about bells and strolling players and—I said we'd talk about it later."

Kate's breathing steadied and then slowly deepened. He was aware of the exact moment when she drifted away from him and fell asleep. His body and mind were so exquisitely attuned to her that he seemed to know her every reaction, every thought.

" You do not feel as I do. "

He did not want to know how he felt. All he wanted to do was to keep on as they were now, to feel her tightness around him, to be able to reach out and touch her. She enjoyed what he did to her, and he would pay no heed to her words. There was no reason why he should not continue to have her until he knew she was not with child.

A child.

The fierce possessive joy that surged through him was startling in intensity. It meant nothing, he told himself, it was only primitive instinct. His mind told him a child would be a disaster for Craighdhu, and he must listen to his mind. After he was sure she had not conceived, he must never bed her again. He already knew he had no control when he was within her and would never be able to withdraw before he gave her his seed.

But he did not have to think about that now. Not yet. His hand moved down to caress her belly.

A child…

···

A band of light was striking her across the face. Too bright, she thought sleepily as she opened her eyes, much too—

Sunlight! Brilliant, beautiful sunlight streaming through the small opening in the barrier. She sat upright, pulling the blankets around her as the chill struck her naked body. "Robert, it's the—"

Robert wasn't there. He must already be outside.

She scrambled to her feet and hurriedly began to dress. She was thrusting her arms into her cloak when Robert pushed aside the blanket at the entrance and entered the cave.

"The sun…Will it …?" She stopped, holding her breath, her gaze fixed anxiously on his face.

A slow smile lit his face, and he nodded in answer to her unspoken question.

Relief made her almost weak. "Thank God."

"You'd best save your thanks until we get down the trail. It's going to be no easy journey."

"When do we leave?"

"Now. The drifts are fairly deep but not impassable, and it's better to travel before the sun melts the snow and leaves us with the ice underneath to contend with." He strode over to Caird. "Put out the fire. I'll saddle the horses." He spoke rapidly as he threw the blanket over Caird's back. "You'll ride Rachel and lead my horse. I'll follow on foot with Caird on a tight rein."

"I should do that. He's my—"

"Responsibility," he finished for her. "I know all about your sense of ‘responsibility' For God's sake, don't plague me with it now. We have to get down the mountain before dark, before the melting snow refreezes. Believe me, you'll have enough to do just keeping the other two horses moving."

When they started out a few minutes later, she understood what he meant.

The pace was agonizingly slow, the horses laboring, struggling to force their way through the deep drifts. It was worse for Robert than for her. Caird's legs gave way three times in the first four hours, and it was a Herculean task to get him moving again. Robert tugged, cursed, and pleaded, and through sheer force of will managed to keep the horse going.

The third time she reined in to wait for him, he turned on her in exasperation. "Why the devil are you stopping? Your sitting there biting your lip is not going to help me. Keep on going, and don't look back."

"I can't do that. Anything could happen." She suddenly burst out, "Caird's not overly bright. What if he suddenly shied while you were pulling him and knocked you off the trail?"

"He's not going to shy. He's barely able to struggle through these drifts." He studied her distraught expression and then smiled with surprising gentleness. "And we can do anything we want to do. It's just a question of in what order we decide to do things. We're going to get off this mountain, Kate."

Strength and purpose showed in every line and muscle of his body as he got Caird back on his feet. He was covered from head to toe with snow, his dark hair was rumpled, and his temper was not at its best, but all of that didn't matter. He was magnificent, spreading his wings over Caird, over her, and she suddenly felt again that wonderful golden sense of security.

She loved him.

The knowledge came out of nowhere, stunning her. She should have known before. All the signs were there for her to see. From that first moment she had wanted to come closer, learn all his secrets, be part of him.

But she could never really be part of him. There could be no life for her with Robert. He had made that clear. The pain that surged through her at the thought was almost too intense to bear. It wasn't fair. She had never had anyone to care about. She deserved someone to love.

But who said life was fair? she thought dully. Their situation had not changed because she had experienced this revelation that had shaken her to the core. If she loved him, she would just have to get over it. She had been more wise than she knew to tell him she would distance herself. She had survived Sebastian, and she could survive this too.

She turned in the saddle and resumed her own struggle to get down the mountain.

She almost ran into Gavin as she rounded a curve in the trail.

A smile of joy lit his face. "Kate! I was afraid—" He stopped, his anxious gaze going beyond her to Robert's horse with its empty saddle. "Where's Robert?"

"Behind me. Just around the turn." Robert had said Gavin would probably be safe, but she had not realized until this minute the nagging anxiety that had plagued her about him. She smiled. "You had no trouble making it down?"

"Aye, but I ran out of the storm within an hour after it hit. It's dry as a bone in the foothills."

"If we ever get there," Robert muttered as he rounded the curve. "Which we'll never do if you continue to stand there chatting."

"I'm not only chatting," Gavin protested. Mischief suddenly glinted in his eyes. "I'm storing up the sight of you. What an amusing vision you are, covered in snow, playing nursemaid to that nag. It's going to make a fine tale when we get to Craighdhu."

"And I'm sure you'll make the most of it." He gazed searchingly at Gavin. "You're well?"

The unspoken bond of affection shimmered between them, its strength almost visible to Kate in that moment.

"Aye," Gavin said quietly. Then he smiled again. "Without the burden of protecting you weighing me down, I fairly flew down the mountain."

"Then turn around and fly back down again," Robert said as he turned and began tugging on Caird's lead rope. "And take Kate with you. Make camp as soon as you reach the foothills. I expect a warm fire and hot food when I finally get this equine misery out of this snow."

"You'll have it." Gavin took Robert's horse lead from Kate. "Come on, Kate. I know it's very entertaining to watch the man flounder, but we must take pity on his humiliation and let him suffer alone."

"Thank you," Robert said. "Your kindness is overwhelming."

She didn't want to leave him. Even though Gavin and Robert seemed to think the danger was over, it was still very real to her.

"Go," said Robert, his gaze on her face. "You can't help, and I'll move faster if I don't have you to worry about."

She wanted him to move fast, she wanted him off this hellish mountain. She tore her gaze from him and nudged Rachel forward, trying not to let him see her fear. "Very well, but see that you don't dally. I want you down before dark, or we'll eat without you."

She heard his surprised chuckle behind her. "Caird and I will most certainly endeavor not to ‘dally.'"

Darkness had wreathed the foothills for more than two hours, and Kate was almost ill with worry when she and Gavin caught sight of Robert stumbling down the trail toward the campfire. She could not tell who was staggering more, Caird or Robert.

She jumped to her feet and ran toward him. She was barely aware of Gavin taking Caird's lead as she pulled Robert toward the fire. "You're late." Her voice was shaking, and she was forced to steady it. "Your food is cold, but I might be persuaded to heat it for you."

"Never mind. Too tired to eat…" He sank down before the fire and held out his hands. "That feels good." He closed his eyes, his expression blissfully sensual. "I didn't think I'd ever feel warm again."

Alarm tore through her. "You're not frostbitten?"

He shook his head. "Just cold. Come here."

She fell to her knees beside him. He lay down on the blanket and drew her into his arms. "Warm…"

She nestled closer, sharing that warmth, her arms closing protectively around him. "You should eat."

He was already asleep.

He was wet, hard, and cold, as uncomfortable as granite ice against her. He would probably not even know if she moved to her own blankets across the fire.

She did not want to move. For the first time he had reached out to her not in passion but in need. Her arms tightened possessively about him. It would do no harm to meet that need.

After all, it was almost over.

She awoke in the night to feel him aroused, boldly hard against her, his hands fumbling with the buttons of her gown. Pleasure, she thought drowsily, pleasure coming…She instinctively moved to help him and then stopped in midmotion. "No," she whispered.

"Why not?"

Because comfort was safe, but pleasure was dangerous. She shook her head to clear it of sleep. Dear heavens, she did not want this confrontation now. "You're tired.…"

"But I'm not dead." His hand cupped her breast. "And I'm beginning to think I'd have to be a corpse not to want this from you."

Her breast was swelling in his grasp. She cast a desperate glance at Gavin slumbering across the fire. "Gavin."

"He's asleep," he muttered. His mouth closed on her nipple.

She clenched when a bolt of heat tingled between her thighs as he began to suck. "He'll wake up."

"We'd never know." His hand moved down to cup between her legs, rubbing, pressing, exploring. "He'll pretend he's still asleep."

"I'd know," she gasped. He was ignoring her protests, and in a moment she would be swept away. "No!" She rolled away and sat up. She began buttoning her gown with shaky fingers. "Not anymore."

"Why the hell not?" His gaze narrowed on her face. "This isn't about Gavin."

She swallowed. "I told you, it's not wise."

He muttered a curse. "I want this. I will hear no more about bells and such nonsense."

Sweet Lord, she wanted it too. "I will not speak it. It just won't happen." She hurriedly moved to the other side of the fire before she could change her mind.

"The devil it won't." He lay there, glaring at her, aroused, angry, his eyes glittering in the firelight. "Very well. I'll accede to this idiocy until we get to Craighdhu. It would distress Gavin to see you struggle." He added silkily, "And shame you to have him see how easily you can be persuaded. But only until we reach Craighdhu, Kate."

She shook her head without speaking.

"You will have me," he said between his teeth. "By God, you will ."

She closed her eyes so that she would not see his expression. It did little good. She still felt the force of his will touching her, stroking her like a silken whip. She was acutely aware of the aching emptiness between her thighs. She wanted to go back into his arms and unbutton her dress and—

Gavin cleared his throat. "I think I should inform you that I'm awake."

"Then go back to sleep," Robert said curtly.

"It's difficult to do when the conversation is so interesting. And, incidentally, you were wrong. I felt obligated to warn you that you had a listener in case Kate might suffer some later embarrassment."

Kate kept her eyes shut and made no answer. Her emotions were in too much tumult for her to feel shame that Gavin had been witness to their intimacy.

She heard Robert's annoyed exclamation and then the sound of motion. She realized to her relief that he must be turning his back to her. If she opened her eyes now, she would not see that compelling stare holding her own, drawing her toward him.

It was the right thing to do, she told herself desperately. No matter how much her body denied the fact, her rejection was the right thing to do.

Now, it was truly over.

"Should I have kept my mouth shut and pretended not to hear last night?" Gavin asked, his gaze on Robert, who was riding ahead along the shore. "I thought it for the best. At times my humor is a trifle twisted, but I would not purposely cause you pain."

"You didn't cause me pain."

His lips tightened. "But Robert did." He was silent a moment before asking awkwardly, "In the cave…did he force you?"

"No."

Relief lightened his expression. "I didn't think he would, but I wasn't sure. I've never seen him as he is with you." He paused. "At first, I thought it might be better if you did couple with him, but you're right to refuse him. He will only hurt you."

He had already hurt her, she thought dully. Just being near him hurt her.

Gavin went on haltingly, "It is Craighdhu, you see. He's a fair man, and he would not mean to cause you unhappiness, but Craighdhu is everything."

"Do you think I don't know that?"

"Perhaps not everything. Did he tell you of his time in Spain?"

"Yes."

"Not much, I'll wager. He doesn't talk of that time."

"He told me how he got the scars on his back." Her lips tightened. "Perhaps I'm fortunate not to have known my mother."

"Mothers can be amazing and wonderful creatures. Mine was." He wrinkled his nose. "Do?a Marguerita was amazing but never wonderful. I was only a lad of four years when she took Robert away, but my memories of her were not pleasant."

"Robert said she was beautiful."

"Quite perfect, but so hard and stern, she reminded me of the barrens. If she was warm, it was only to her God. Robert wasn't at all like her. He was wild and full of mischief, and he laughed—except when he was with her. He was different when he came back."

"He was older."

Gavin shook his head. "They changed him. Not the way they wanted to, but he wasn't the same. For a while he was like a wild animal, not trusting any of us, watching the horizon for anyone who might come to take him away." He turned to look at her. "Most of his wariness is gone now, but I believe his vigilance will last forever. No one will ever again be allowed to take him from Craighdhu or Craighdhu from him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I love him," he said simply. "And I like you. I want you to understand why you must never come too close to him. I would not have you hurt."

"You need not worry. What was between us is over."

He shook his head. "It did not seem so last night."

"It is over," she said determinedly. "And will stay so. I cannot—"

"By all that's holy!" Gavin's exclamation brought her gaze flying to his face, but he was no longer looking at her.

Her gaze followed his, and her eyes widened in surprise.

A troop of horsemen were riding toward them along the shore. There were ten or twelve in the party, and they were coming fast.

"You know them?"

"My dear cousin Alec," Robert said grimly as he rode back toward them. "Be ready, Gavin." He turned to Kate and said rapidly, "If there's trouble, any trouble, run. Don't stop for that damn horse, don't stop for anything. You'll come to a MacDarren croft a day's ride north from here. Tell them who you are, and they'll give you protection." He turned his horse and galloped forward to meet the oncoming band of men.

Alec. Sir Alec Malcolm of Kilgranne. As she and Gavin moved more slowly after Robert, Kate tried to remember what she had heard about the man who was causing this sudden bristling tension. Something about greed and danger…

The man who reined up before Robert was tall, well muscled, with a fine figure, and looked to be in his early forties. His hair might once have been blond, but was now a pale brown streaked liberally with gray. She could not tell the color of his eyes from this distance, but they were pale beneath well-shaped brows. His features could not have been described as comely, but they were very strong, and his cheeks were ruddy.

He smiled. "Good day, Robert. I heard rumors you'd been taken by the English."

"You were devastated, I'm sure." Robert smiled with equal politeness. "Were you coming to rescue me? This troop is a trifle small to take on Her Majesty."

Alec laughed. "Very funny." He genuinely seemed to think the idea amusing. "I believe your Jock may be planning to do that very thing. I thought such action a bit absurd when we didn't even know whether your capture was truth or rumor. You know what a peace-loving man I am."

"Of course I do. And I know how fond you are of me."

"Are we not kin? And see, I was right, the story that you'd been taken to the Tower was pure fabrication."

"So you traveled all this way to welcome, not to rescue me? I'm truly touched."

"I would have been delighted to welcome you, but this is purely an accidental meeting. I'm on my way to Edinburgh. James has sent for me on some trifling matter or other."

"I know how he values your opinion."

He made a face. "Too much at times. I do not look forward to this trip through the mountains in winter." His gaze went beyond Robert to Gavin and Kate. "Good day, Gavin. It's been a long time."

Gavin nodded. "How is Duncan?"

"Well."

Gavin hesitated, then asked, "And Jean?"

"As bonnie as ever. I took her to Edinburgh last year, and she was very well received. I've had a dozen offers for her." His glance wandered to Kate. "And here's another bonnie lady. Yours, Gavin?"

"Mine," Robert said. "My wife, Kate."

Alec Malcolm's gaze immediately shifted back to Kate with new interest. "And you weren't going to introduce me? How rude, Robert. You must tell me all about the match. Where did you find this treasure?"

"England."

"So you were in England. You see how these rumors start?" He chuckled as he snapped his fingers. "Bridal bower. Tower. They sound alike, but one signifies a beginning and the other an end." He rode forward and stopped before Kate. "Permit me to introduce myself, since Robert has forgotten his manners. I'm Sir Alec Malcolm." He took Kate's hand and lifted it to his lips. "We're neighbors, and I'm sure we will be very close friends." He met her gaze. "Extremely close."

Kate was vaguely aware of Gavin moving protectively nearer but was too occupied in absorbing impressions of Alec Malcolm to grasp the significance. His eyes were a cool blue, she saw now, his manner forceful but not unpleasant. He exuded vigor, dominance, and a cheerful charm. "I've heard Robert speak of you," she said noncommittally.

He laughed. "I'm sure you have. I've always endeavored to be interesting enough to be the subject of conversation."

He was still holding her hand, and she withdrew it. "I assure you I found it very interesting."

"But I know nothing about you. When I return, I will pay Craighdhu a visit, and you must prove equally informative. I have an uncommon thirst for knowledge." He glanced over his shoulder. "Robert will tell you."

"You have an uncommon thirst for many things," Robert said without expression. "And we're keeping you from one of them. I know how impatient James will be to see you. We'll bid you good day."

Alec nodded cheerfully. "You're right, I mustn't tarry even in such engaging company." He bowed to Kate. "I can't tell you of my delight that Robert has taken a wife. I'll look forward to seeing more of you."

"How kind of you," she said quietly.

Alec nodded at Robert and Gavin, then raised his gloved hand and motioned his men forward. A few minutes later they were a quarter of a mile down the trail.

Gavin expelled his breath in explosive relief.

"He's not what I expected." Kate's gaze followed them. "He was actually quite pleasant."

"Oh, he can be very pleasant," Robert said. "His smile is sweetest when he's cutting a throat or raping a child."

She turned to look at him. "He's that evil?"

"He doesn't think it's evil. He has no concept of right or wrong. If he wants to do it, he does it. That makes it right."

"And James likes him?"

Robert shrugged. "James is not without vices of his own, and Alec panders to them. He's clever enough to mask his more heinous villainies before the court. I understand he's thought to be very charming." Robert looked at her. "But I'd advise you not to become better acquainted with my cousin."

She shivered. "I have no intention of doing so. Will he truly come to Craighdhu?"

"If it suits his mood." He turned his horse. "But you have nothing to worry about. You'll be safe. No one can breach Craighdhu's defenses." He gave her a level glance over his shoulder. "You may not even see him. I intend to keep you too busy in the bedchamber to entertain guests in the hall."

Anger flared through her. It was an unnecessarily intimate remark in front of Gavin. However, when she shot Gavin a glance, she found him gazing with a frown after Alec Malcolm.

"No," Robert said firmly, turning to Gavin. "Don't even think about it, Gavin."

Kate suddenly realized that Robert's intimate remark had been spoken absentmindedly, and his impatience and intensity were directed entirely toward Gavin at this moment.

Gavin didn't look at him. "I know your views on the subject."

"But I notice you don't promise to adhere to them."

"I…can't, Robert," Gavin said, troubled.

"You'll get yourself gutted," Robert said with more violence than she had ever heard from him. "And, by God, you'll deserve it."

Gavin shook his head as he watched Malcolm disappear from view. Then he turned his horse and kicked him into a headlong gallop.

"What's wrong?" Kate asked as she watched him fly ahead of them down the trail.

"Damn him."

"Tell me why he's upset."

"Ask him yourself. I can't even talk about his madness without blaspheming." He put spurs to his horse and rode after Gavin. "The damn lunatic."

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