Highland Heat (16 page)

Deirdre felt guilt claw its way across her heart. She’d sneaked away from her fellow Chattan women to meet her lover and it had brought shame to every member of her clan. She was the laird’s daughter and expected to marry for an alliance.

“It’s different for a woman,” she remarked.

Quinton captured her hand once again and carried it to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss against it that sent heat through her belly; it was a slow burn, like the coals gave off during the morning hours.

“That was no’ meant to make ye feel guilty, Deirdre. I agree with ye that the world is harsher on women for doing the same things as a man.”

She tossed her head and went to walk away but he refused to release her hand. Instead he used his grip to wrap her into an embrace with their joined hands behind her back.

“Yer nature is what I find attractive.”

She’d somehow forgotten how much larger he was than herself. When she was sniping at him, she didn’t seem to recall that he was an entire head taller. She felt small now but her body enjoyed that fact too much. Her nipples tingled before pulling into tight points she feared he felt against his chest.

He growled low and deep and rubbed his chest against hers. “Aye, I enjoy it full well.”

She hissed but she wasn’t sure if her frustration was aimed at him or herself.

“Of course ye do,” she muttered, her vexation clear in her tone. She wiggled free, slightly amazed that he released her.

“Because ye think I brought ye up here for a tryst?”

“Did ye nae?” She walked away and poked one finger into the water of the bird bath. Ripples instantly appeared and ran away from where she touched the water.

“Well… maybe yes but no’ only for that reason. If I wanted some meekly obedient bride, I’d have her and she’d most likely sit the day through in that solar without a single protest.”

She looked toward him, trying to decide what he meant for his tone was quiet and pensive. He grinned when their eyes met.

“Ye make it sound as though I passed some manner of test by leaving the solar.”

He followed her with a lazy pace but she felt him closing in on her with a soft excitement, tightening her belly.

“Maybe ye did for it’s a truth I have no’ given much thought to what the lack of a lady here is doing to my people. Ye brought it to my attention without saying a word.”

She discovered herself fleeing from him in a slow pace while her eyelids actually fluttered. “I would have… spoken up if ye did nae notice… be sure of that.” She was trying to sound firm but failed because she was too busy enjoying the fact that he approved her actions.

He stopped, and the moonlight illuminated a frown appearing on his face. “I am nae sure ye would have, for ye do nae think ye belong here.”

“As I told ye, Quinton, I would never have gone to Melor if I did nae believe there would be more to our relationship than the lust. I thought he wanted the alliance with my father. I do nae earn my place on my back.”

“Does that mean ye’ll find the title of being me mistress more agreeable if you perform the tasks a lady should be doing?”

“No,” she answered. “But I’ll go mad before the end of the week if ye insist I sit in that solar.”

“Maybe ye’ll discover yerself caring about my people enough to want to stay, for they need ye here as much as I do.”

There was a challenge in his voice that snared her attention. She walked to him, feeling his attention on her as she closed the gap. Reaching up, she slid her hands along the side of his face. She stretched up, tilting her head to one side so she might kiss him.

Quinton met her halfway, but he didn’t take command of the kiss. His lips waited on her motions, following her lead as she gently moved her mouth against his. Sensation flowed through her and confidence. She allowed the tip of her tongue to tease his lower lip in a slow motion that drew a shudder from him.

He closed his arms around her, pulling her against him, but not too fiercely. She felt him shaking as he controlled the urge to kiss her as he had always done before. The kiss remained hers, and she shivered with delight as she deepened it. Time ceased to have meaning. There was only the next breath and the next motion of her mouth against his. But she lost her concentration at last, and he seemed to sense it.

Quinton took command of her mouth in that instant. His lips pressed hers until she opened her jaw to allow his tongue to invade her mouth. It was bold, and her body liked it too much. Need began to torment her, and the memory of how much she had enjoyed being satisfied by him made it impossible to resist.

It was Quinton who pulled his lips away from hers. She couldn’t read his expression because his face was cast all in shadow now that the moon was behind him.

“I did nae bring ye up here for a quick tumble.”

He pulled her over to one of the open places.

“Did yer father ever have a swing strung up for ye?” he asked.

Deirdre saw the twin ropes hanging from a stone archway with a plank tied to their ends. She smiled, unable to help herself.

“When I was a girl… aye, but it has been a long time.” She ran her fingertips over the rope, smiling when she felt that it wasn’t weathered but smooth. She sat down on the plank, careful at first while she listened to hear any popping that might herald a breaking rope.

“It’s in good repair.”

She lifted her feet and laughed as the swing took her weight. Quinton caught both edges of the seat and pushed her up into the air. She sailed toward the moon and felt the night air chill her cheeks. When the swing reached its height limit, she fell backward. Her belly tightened, but the hold she had on each rope reassured her so she was free to enjoy the feeling. Her silk robes fluttered around her legs as Quinton gave her another push.

She laughed and heard him echoing the sound. He caught one of the ropes and leaned away from it. She began to turn around him in a crazy circle, which made her just a little dizzy, enough to see her laughing once more. The ropes twisted above her head, raising her up until she was face level with Quinton. He was chuckling softly before he stepped back, and the swing spun in a crazy series of circles to unwind itself. She squealed and held on tight until the swing was once again hanging as it had been when she first sat on it.

“Yer laughter is intoxicating, Deirdre.”

“I like it better when ye call me by my name,” she whispered.

He offered her a hand, and she placed hers in it, mesmerized by witnessing that he still knew how to play.

He pulled her toward him and nuzzled her chilled cheek with warm lips. “Ye enjoy it when I call ye hellion too, because ye are no’ the sort of woman to accept a man who does nae snarl back at ye when ye try to frighten him off with yer spitting.”

She wiggled. “That makes me sound like a shrew.”

“It’s a compliment. Ye know I respect yer strength at the same time that I’m trying me hand at winning yer surrender in me bed.”

She believed him, even if she had every reason not to. His embrace opened, but he captured her hand once again and began to tug her back toward the stairs with the hold. She resisted, unsure what to do as desire flared up inside her, but her memory reminded her what happened when men had had enough of their lovers.

Quinton turned to look at her. “Come to bed, lass. It’s where we belong.”

She realized that he might overwhelm her right there, and that bit of knowledge set her feet to moving. His fingers tightened slightly around hers as they descended into the hallways.

She refused to think. It was a fact that she’d spent too many days considering and chastising herself. She wanted to feel. Nothing more.

A single candle burned in the eagle tower chamber, but Quinton pinched it out. She walked to the window and opened it, allowing the moonlight to fill the room. He slid his hands around her hips and up to her breasts, where he cupped each tender globe before teasing the hard tips with his thumbs.

“Now come lie with me, Deirdre, and I promise to be yer lover until the sun rises and we must face our responsibilities once more…”

***

Deirdre blinked and wrinkled her nose when she smelled an unfamiliar scent. It wasn’t unpleasant, but she lifted her head and felt her eyes go wide when she realized that Quinton was still in bed with her.

Light was streaming in through the windows, but what horrified her was the sound of Amber rustling about the chamber. The girl wasn’t looking at them, but Quinton was toying with her hair instead of rising and she realized he was making a point of being seen with her.

He watched her, his eyes full of hard intent and his expression stony. He was at his stubborn best, but she was not in the mood to bend.

She laid her hand on his chest and grabbed a handful of his hair. He snorted before rolling out of the bed and away from her. Amber jerked around at the sound but instantly turned her back on her laird when she noticed that he wasn’t wearing a stitch.

Quinton stared at her, a quick flash of surprise lighting his eyes as he rubbed the spot she’d abused. But he suddenly grinned when she continued to glare at him.

“Look after yer mistress well, Amber.”

The girl kept her back turned. “Aye, Laird, it will be an honor.”

“Yes, it is, but one ye have earned. Lady Deirdre told me how well she thinks of ye last night and asked that ye be appointed to serving her.”

Amber clapped her hands together with glee. Deirdre raised a hand to rub at her eyes, because she didn’t want to spoil the moment for the girl with her own discontent.

Quinton’s words sealed her fate, for there wouldn’t be a soul in the castle who didn’t hear about it before sundown. Deirdre felt her temper rise, but she was more angry with herself for failing to resist the temptation of spending the night together.

She needed to escape Drumdeer, because she obviously lacked the discipline to resist its laird.

Amber brought her clothing forward the moment she climbed from the bed. Once dressed, she followed the Cameron girl down to the solar, where two other girls had laid out a morning meal for her.

Bells began to ring, and Amber gasped. The girl looked up, horror on her face.

“What is wrong?” Deirdre asked.

Amber didn’t answer but hurried to the window and leaned out. The ringing grew louder as all the bells along the walls began to chime.

“The laird is riding out…” Amber answered. “It must have been the letter from the lieutenant general that is taking him away from ye.”

Deirdre leaned out of the window too and looked toward the main gate. Two columns of riders were streaming out and down the steep incline. Even from her distance, the yellow, orange, and black of the Cameron plaid was clear in the morning sun. Each man had a sword strapped to his back, Highland fashion.

Quinton rode at the front. She marveled at his daring, but at the same time, part of her would have been disappointed if he’d hidden farther back in the columns. Her cheeks colored as she recalled his words.

Ye enjoyed that savageness last night.

He was right. She was drawn to his strength, even his bluntness. It was a shame, for she had been raised gently, and still she had no taste for the marriage her father had arranged for her. She wished she understood the wildness inside her, but she had to be honest and admit that it had always been her way. She’d hidden it from her father and her kin to appear the image of correctness they deserved, but it had always been a facade.

Quinton was the only man who seemed able to see through her playacting.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon, Lady Deirdre.”

“I am no’ so certain.” But maybe it was fate’s way of showing her she was right to think of continuing on to her place with the queen. It would take planning, and she suddenly looked at the Cameron girls all trying to attend her and realized that slipping away from them would be her greatest challenge. She didn’t doubt she would have to slip away from Quinton, for the man was every bit as stubborn as she was.

But she would have a place in life that her father might be proud of. Remaining at Drumdeer as Quinton’s mistress would not accomplish that. Word would spread quickly now that Quinton had appointed staff to attend her. Deirdre fought the urge to flinch, because her father deserved better than to have his eldest daughter embarrassing him among his fellow lairds.

“Did ye say there was a storeroom below this chamber? I believe I’d like to see it.”

Amber wrung her hands for a long moment. “The stores are but one floor below us; I’ll pull up the trapdoor.”

“Yer service is exemplary, Amber.”

The girl beamed before reaching down to pull a section of the floor up. Deirdre was grateful for the fact that the girl was intent on her task because it kept Amber from noticing how delighted Deirdre was to discover a way down to the floor beneath them. She should have thought of it before. The valuable things in the solar were best protected in the tower. It was also reasonable to think no one might be allowed below the solar to keep rumors from surfacing about lovers and afternoon trysts.

“Mind yer step, the stairs are steep,” Amber urged her.

Deirdre looked through the opening the trapdoor revealed. True to Amber’s word, there were a set of stairs that would allow her to descend to the floor beneath. It was musty looking and dim because the shutters were still closed, but light was penetrating through the seams of the wooden window coverings.

“Amber, there is something I need from the kitchen.”

The girl looked up, eager to please. Deirdre ignored the guilt that tried to assault her. She had to find ways to send Amber away from her, or escaping would be impossible.

“I need a morning brew to keep my figure slim.”

Amber understood instantly. There was a glint of comradely understanding in her eyes that only two women might share between each other. There were herbs that when steeped in hot water would keep a woman from ripening with child. The church forbade such things, but there were times when it was still the best course of action to take.

“And I do nae want anyone to know. It is a private thing, so go yerself.”