Seduction of a Highland Lass (McCabe Trilogy #2)(39)

Nay, now was not the time for silly and idyllic dreams. She needed to be a realist and decide what was acceptable to her. No one else. For once, she would place her own wants and desires above others. For if she didn’t see to her happiness, no one else would.

One night in Alaric’s arms.

Once spoken aloud in her mind, she couldn’t push the thought away. It consumed her. It tempted and tantalized her as nothing else ever had.

She’d never even been kissed until Alaric, save the brutal mouth of the laird and she didn’t consider that a kiss. A kiss was something given, and the laird had taken. She had never given him anything willingly.

She pressed her palms to her eyes and plunged her fingers into her hair.

It was too late for her to turn back. It had become more than some hopeless dream. The idea had taken root. It burned so brightly in her mind that she knew she couldn’t go another day under the unbearable strain that existed between her and Alaric.

Tonight it had to end.

Chapter 17

Alaric stood and stared moodily out the window into the night. Above, the moon gleamed bright and reflected boldly off the snow-covered terrain. In the distance the loch glistened and shone like silver with nary a ripple to disturb the pristine surface.

’Twas a tranquil sight and yet his insides were in complete turmoil.

His brother’s words whispered to him, an insidious thought that once seeded had taken root and it shamed him that he gave it more thought with each passing day. Take her. Use her. Be rid of this madness.

But he couldn’t. Because he knew that what he felt wasn’t simple lust. What it was, he couldn’t say. It was new and fresh. He was on the cusp of something alarming and exhilarating all at the same time. ’Twas as if he prepared for battle and his blood soared in preparation.

He wanted her, aye. Not a doubt. But he wouldn’t take what wasn’t willingly given. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her pain. Seeing the torment in her eyes had hurt him in a way he hadn’t thought it possible to be hurt by a woman.

The sound of his chamber door opening whirled him around, a blistering set down-poised and ready to fly at whoever dared to enter without knocking.

When he saw Keeley standing in the shadows, uncertainty etched on her features, he forgot to breathe.

“I thought you would be abed,” she said in barely above a whisper. “ ’Tis late. We took to our beds hours ago.”

“And yet here we both stand, unable to sleep. Why is that, Keeley?” he asked softly. “Are we going to continue to deny what it is we both want?”

“Nay.”

He went still. So still that the room went deathly quiet and only the howl of the wind could be heard. Cold rushed through the room, blanketing it in frigid layers. Keeley shivered and gathered her arms around her. She looked so vulnerable that every instinct in him cried out to protect her from harm. To cherish her and lavish on her all the patience and understanding he had in him.

Then he cursed when another blast of cold air rushed through the room. The flame in the hearth flickered and sparked higher, fed by the draft. He hurried to the window to pull the furs down and then went to Keeley and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the chill.

Her heart beat frantically against his chest, and she trembled from head to toe.

“Come over to the bed so you can wrap up in one of the furs while I build up the fire,” he said gently.

Carefully he tugged her away from his chest and led her to his bed. She sat on the edge, tense and nervous as he tucked one of the furs around her body.

Unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head and smoothed his hand over her long tresses. He wouldn’t taste her lips yet. If he started, he wouldn’t stop and she’d freeze.

His hands trembled while he added logs to the fire. He curled and uncurled his fingers in an attempt to dispel the quiver but to no avail. He was shaken to the core and so afraid of making a wrong move that he was nearly paralyzed.

At last he turned to see Keeley watching him with wide eyes from her perch on the bed. He crossed the room and went down on one knee in front of her.

“Are you sure about this, Keeley?”

She reached up to fan her fingers over his lips. She stroked over his mouth and then down his jaw line. “I want you. I can’t deny you—us—any longer. I know ’tis your destiny to marry into the McDonald clan and become laird and ’tis a noble destiny. I’ll not deter you from that end. I want tonight. One night in your arms so that I can hold the memory tight once you’ve gone from this place.”

He caught her hand and dragged it across his mouth, settling his lips into her palm. He kissed the smooth skin and then tucked each fingertip into his mouth, kissing them in turn.

“I want you too, lass. So much I ache. I want to burn the memory of you in my arms into my mind so that it never leaves me no matter how old I may grow.”

She smiled, her eyes glinting with sadness as she cupped his cheek. “Give me tonight so that we make just such a memory for the both of us.”

“Aye, lass. I’ll love you well.”

When he would have gotten to his feet, she put out a hand and he paused on one knee.

“There is something I would say before we go any further.”

He cocked his head, studying her sudden nervousness and the quick intake of her breath.

He smoothed the hair from her face and tangled his fingers in the long tresses in an effort to soothe the worry creasing her brow. “Speak then.”