Highland Lover (23 page)

a tangled mass of her thick hair, a blush and a faint smile upon her face.

“Good morning,” she murmured, casting him a decidedly sultry look from beneath her long lashes

as she slowly ran her tongue up his ribs.

“Och, aye, ’tis that,” he replied, clenching his fists at his sides as she slipped a little lower down his body to kiss his belly as she continued to stroke him with her long, slender fingers.

It took all his willpower not to grab her and take control over their lovemaking. He was hard and

aching to be inside her, but he fought to rein in that mindless need. Alana was being very bold and

he did not wish to stop her. He was tense with hope and anticipation over just how bold she might

choose to be. She was certainly headed in the right direction, he thought, groaning again as he felt

the hard tip of her breast move against his thigh.

When her kisses moved to his thighs instead of the place that so ached for the touch of her lips, her soft hair brushing over his groin, he felt his desire grow despite his disappointment. He was just

thinking that it was foolish to expect her to do something she had probably never heard of when he

felt her run her tongue slowly up the length of him. Gregor could not stop himself from arching

slightly, silently asking her for what he now desperately wanted her to do.

“Jesu, lass,” he groaned when the heat of her mouth surrounded him, only to curse when she swiftly

pulled away.

“Wrong?” she asked in a very small voice.

“Nay! Right! Verra right,” he said, threading his fingers in her hair and gently urging her to do it

again. “There’s a good lass.”

What a stupid thing to say, he thought a little wildly. He was not surprised to feel the faint gust of her breath against his skin as she giggled. His idiocy did not stop her, however, and he sent up a

silent prayer of thanks as the damp warmth of her mouth again encircled him.

Closing his eyes, he fought to keep a tight rein upon his passion so that he could enjoy this delight for as long as possible. It was something he had indulged in only twice. Once when he was a mere

lad learning the art of love from a much older widow and any caress could finish him and once

again as a young man with a few years of experience under his belt. That last time he had enjoyed

in some ways, but the woman had performed the act with such a strong air of self-sacrifice that he

had never requested it again. The feel of Alana’s mouth, however, was driving him mad with pure,

hot pleasure, one heightened by the feeling that she was only trying to give him pleasure, a pleasure he began to think she was gaining as well as giving.

Too soon he knew he could not hold back any longer and he grabbed her beneath the arms to drag

her up his body. “Now, lass, take me inside ye and ride me hard,” he said as he settled her on top of him.

Intrigued, Alana straddled his hips and slowly joined their bodies. She closed her eyes as pleasure

swept over her with such force it made her feel a bit light-headed. Then Gregor grabbed her by the

hips and urged her to move. She quickly took the lead from him, inspired by his husky words of

passion and encouragement. This time she could almost feel his release build and she was right

there to share it with him. Still trembling from the strength of what she had experienced in his arms, she collapsed on top of him. Beneath the ear she pressed against his broad chest, she could hear his

heart pounding as hard as hers was.

It was not until Gregor’s hand ceased stroking her back and slipped to the side that she realized he

had gone back to sleep. As carefully as she could, Alana got off him, stood up, and quickly dressed.

She smiled as she studied the way he was sprawled on his back sleeping soundly. It was strangely

invigorating to think that she had exhausted such a big, strong man.

She opened the door, looked outside, and smiled. It was a beautiful day. Recalling a small burn they

had crossed just before reaching their small shelter, she collected the things she would need to have a thorough wash. The water would undoubtedly be cold, as the burn was running downhill and

probably came from somewhere in the high hills she could see in the distance, but she felt she could

endure it long enough to get completely clean. If she hurried she might even be able to return before Gregor woke up, which would save her from a lecture about wandering around alone and

unprotected, she mused as she hurried out of the cottage, quickly shutting the door before

Charlemagne could follow.

The water proved far colder than she had anticipated, and Alana did not think she had ever bathed

with greater speed. Even when she had dried herself off and put her clean clothes on, she continued

to shiver faintly. She headed toward a sunnier spot where the water tumbled over the side of a

shallow gorge. Sitting on the ground, she rubbed her hair dry and began to braid it. Although it was

pleasant to sit in the sun and let its warmth flow through her, she knew she could not enjoy the

pleasure for too long. Gregor would worry when he woke up to find her gone, and that worry would

increase with each moment that passed with no sight of her return. She might not know how he felt

about her in so many other ways, but she had no doubt that he felt very protective.

She was unable to stop her thoughts from drifting to what she had done this morning. It astonished

her that she could ever have dared to be so bold. If Gregor had not been so obvious in his enjoyment

of her attentions, she would worry that she had shocked him, perhaps even pushed him away with

her boldness. She had no fear of that, however. She also knew that she would do it all again the first chance she got. It had been exciting beyond words to make love to him like that, to lead the dance

for a change.

Alana shook aside the arousing thought of all the ways she could make love to Gregor and stood up.

She was just moving to collect her things when six men stepped out of the shelter of the

surrounding trees. Just over their shoulders she glimpsed another man standing with their horses

and wondered how she had missed hearing their approach. They looked ragged and filthy and she

felt her stomach knot with fear. They stood between her and the hut where Gregor waited for her.

Worse, she had not even brought her dagger with her.

“Weel, ’tis a bonnie wee prize we have found ourselves, eh, laddies?” said a short, barrel-chested

man whose face was so covered in hair she could see little more than his eyes.

“I am nay alone,” Alana warned. “’Twould be best if ye get back on your ponies and ride away.

Fast.”

As a bluff it was a very weak one. The area all around where they stood was open and there was no

sign of anyone but her. Alana was not surprised when the man facing her looked around and then

glared at her.

“Do ye think me a fool?” he snapped. “Now, come here.”

“Och, nay, I dinnae think so.” Did the man truly think she was so witless that she would just walk to his side and surrender?

“Now, lass, ye really dinnae want to be making me angry. We willnae hurt ye,” he added in a

faintly soft tone of voice.

The man’s attempt to smile reassuringly made Alana shiver with distaste. What little she could see

of his teeth through his thick, snarled beard revealed that they were rotting in his mouth. Alana

knew she had to decide what to do next and she had to do it quickly. This was not a man who would

patiently trade words with her in an attempt to coax her into doing what he wanted. As subtly as she

could, she glanced all around her and tried to determine the best route of escape. She prayed her

ability to run and hide would not fail her again, for these men made the Gowans look like saints.

“I am afraid I dinnae believe ye, sir,” she said calmly even as her heart raced almost painfully with growing fear.

“Are ye calling me a liar?”

“Aye, I believe I am.”

“Ye had best cease this foolish game, woman, or it willnae go weel for ye when I catch ye. Believe

that.”

“I think ye should say if ye catch me.”

A growl rumbled in the man’s chest and Alana understood that warning. She bolted and headed for

the trees behind her. A cry rose up from the men as they started to chase her, a sound that reminded

her far too much of the ones hunters made as they ran down their prey. One voice kept bellowing

out threats that made her blood run cold.

It quickly became evident that these men were not all as stupid as they looked. While three of them

ran after her, the other three ran back to their horses. A glance behind her showed Alana that she

could certainly outrun the men who came after her on foot, but the men on the horses were rapidly

closing in on her. Even she could not outrun a horse, but she just might be able to evade it if she

could just reach the trees, she thought. If luck was with her, she might even be able to escape

pursuit long enough to climb up into one of those trees and hide. She suspected these men would

not linger in the area long if they lost sight of her. They were undoubtedly outlaws, broken men

who were long overdue for a hanging.

Good fortune completely deserted her at the very edge of the trees she struggled to reach. Two men

on horseback rode between her and the trees. They reined in so close to her that she could feel the

breath of the horses on her face as she stumbled to a halt. Alana tried to dart around them, but they were quick to block her each time. Just as she realized why they were not attacking her, were

merely holding her in place, she felt someone slam into her from behind. Even putting her arms out

to try and break her fall, she hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of her.

She was still struggling to breathe when the man who had knocked her down turned her onto her

back, slapped her hard across the face, and then sat on her. Straddling her, he glared at her. It was the one who had first spoken to her, and he looked more than eager to carry out all the threats he

had bellowed after her when she had bolted for the trees. Alana did not think she had ever seen a

man as filthy as this one or one who smelled so foul. She would not have thought that who the man

was who violated her would matter, the abuse being horror enough to bear, but the fact that it was

this foul creature who intended to rape her did indeed make it all the more horrifying. She doubted

she would ever feel clean again—if she even survived.

Then she thought of Gregor, of all they had shared together, and wanted to scream. Only the

thought that this man was the sort who would like to see her fear kept her silent. It was not easy, for hand in hand with the fear was a growing rage. He was going to ruin all the sweet memories she had

made with Gregor, taint all that beauty with filth and violence. Before she could consider the

wisdom of it, she curled up one hand into a tight fist and punched him in the nose as hard as she

could. She was so angry that the blood and the sound of bones cracking did not even trouble her.

The man howled, clutched his nose, and rolled off her as he cursed and threatened her. Alana took

quick advantage of her freedom, leapt to her feet, and ran. Another man tried to grab her, but as he

yanked her toward him, she kicked him in the groin. She knew she was running blindly now but

could not completely still the panic that gripped her so tightly. The fact that the men had not yet

come at her all at once this time was all that was saving her, and she knew that, too. Yet each way

she turned there was another man forcing her in yet another direction, and never in the one direction she truly wanted to go. Her body ached from being thrown to the ground and having a man fall on

her and she was not sure how much longer she could continue to run and fight.

Alana felt the bitter taste of defeat sting the back of her throat when she suddenly realized she had been herded to the very edge of a shallow gorge. Each way she looked now, a man stood in her way.

Behind them were arranged the four horsemen. The man who had slapped her walked toward her,

and she braced herself for a fight. She knew she would lose in the end, but she fully intended to

make him suffer before he took what he wanted.

“Ye will pay for this, ye stupid bitch,” the man snapped, lightly touching his bleeding nose. “I was

intending to be gentle with ye and all, but nay more. Nay, now I intend to make ye bleed.”

He lunged at her and Alana tried to avoid his attack, but when she tried to move to the side another

man darted toward her. A snarl of warning escaped the first man, halting him, but the move had cost

Alana her chance to get out of the way. The man she had punched grabbed her and tried to wrestle

her to the ground. She heard one of the other men yell out, “’Ware the edge, Rob!” and knew both

she and her attacker were in danger of plunging to the bottom of the gorge.

Rob grunted and tried to pull her back, away from the crumbling ground at the edge of the gorge.

As Alana struggled in his arms, he bit her on the neck and she screamed as much from surprise and

horror as from pain. Realizing suddenly that Rob was so busy trying to tear off her gown he had not

protected his body well, Alana butted her head against his, trying to inflict enough pain that he

loosened his grip on her. It seemed that all she had accomplished was to hurt her head and make

him curse. Then she saw that her leg was situated in the perfect place for a hard strike to the groin.

She was already bringing her knee up when the man realized his mistake and his vulnerability, but it