Highland Lover (9 page)

strength the fever robbed ye of.”

Even as he tucked the blanket around her, she was asleep. Gregor shook his head when the cat leapt

up onto the bed and curled up against Alana’s back. Lucky cat, he thought. He would like to be

there, his arms wrapped around her slender body and his own body sated and warm after a hearty

bout of lovemaking.

Time to go ahunting, he decided as his body tightened with a need that was nearly painful. He

collected the hunting bow and arrows he had taken from the Gowans and left the cottage. Gregor

did not particularly care if he actually caught anything, but he needed to get away from Alana and

clear the fog of lust from his mind. It was time to make some hard decisions.

Guilt wracked him as he fully accepted the fact that he could not marry Mavis despite the strong

lure of her dowry. That had caused him to waver in his decision more than once, but no longer.

Mavis was a good woman, and she deserved better than a husband who could never give her his

whole heart. He was still not sure if Alana was his true mate, but he knew for certain that Mavis was not. The ferocity of the need he felt for Alana was proof of that. He had never felt anything like that for Mavis and doubted he ever would, no matter how many years he was married to her and how

good a wife she was. As soon as he returned to Scarglas, he would send word to Mavis and her

father that the betrothal would not go ahead. He would send Mavis a more personal missive

explaining his reasons more gently and as honestly as he dared.

That left him with the question of what to do about Alana. She was a free woman of two-and-

twenty, a woman who had been ready to be courted for years now. Gregor did not feel confident of

his courting skills, however. Even with Mavis, he had done little wooing except of her father, for he was the one who controlled the purse. Somehow Gregor did not think the few flirtatious games he

had played with Mavis—and had played with other women—would impress Alana. He was going

to have to come up with a whole new plan, and one that would help him decide if Alana was truly

the mate he had been looking for but would not offer any false hopes of a future in case she proved

to be the wrong one. And one very large part of that plan would be seduction, for he had no

intention of getting all the way to Scarglas without at least once tasting Alana Murray. Preferably

more than once.

Chapter 6

A small fist struck Gregor sharply in the nose, the pain making his eyes water. He cursed and

quickly moved to restrain a thrashing, muttering Alana. For a moment he feared she had become

feverish again, despite her steady improvement of the last three days. He felt none of that heat in the slim body pinned beneath his, however. The way their bodies were pressed together was certainly

making him feel feverish, but she felt blessedly cool. Although he silently cursed himself for a

lecherous swine, he enjoyed the way her lithe body was moving against his for a few minutes before

he attempted to wake her from what he now realized was a nightmare.

“Keira!” she cried as she tried to break free of his grasp.

“Hush, lass. Hush,” he murmured. “’Tis but a dream.”

“She is in trouble! She needs me!”

“Nay, nay, ’tis but your worry for her now plaguing your dreams.”

Whatever the dream was, it held Alana tightly in its grip. Gregor brushed light kisses over her face

as he murmured soft, calming words against her skin. She tasted like more, her skin as sweet and

smooth as cream. It was not until he brushed a kiss over her lips that he realized she had finally

grown still. Gregor opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her expression one of shock. Beneath

that shock, however, he felt sure he could see the glint of desire.

Alana woke from a frightening dream about Keira to the warm touch of Gregor’s lips against hers.

His hard body was sprawled on top of hers in a way that turned her thoughts decidedly warm, even

a little lewd. This time there was no doubt in her mind that a certain very hard part of his long body was not caused by a dream or a need to relieve himself. The kisses she had felt upon her face were

proof of that. It also explained why her dark, troubled dreams had slowly turned sensual. Keira and

the man threatening her had faded, replaced by images of herself and Gregor, naked and wrapped in

each other’s arms.

Those images remained seared into her mind, fading not at all as she woke up. And now his mouth

was but an inch or two away from hers. Alana knew she ought to push him away, but she did not

move. Inexperienced though she was, she felt certain Gregor wanted to kiss her and she intended to

let him. It was not just that brief, sensual dream that urged her to hold still and, hopefully, prompt him to act upon that intention she could read in his fine eyes. She had been wanting Gregor to kiss

her for days, even before she knew what he looked like. In anticipation of a toe-curling kiss such as her cousins had so often sighed over, Alana licked her lips.

Gregor watched the tip of Alana’s tongue move over her full lips and felt his insides clench with

desire. He suspected she was too innocent to realize the invitation she had just offered him, but he

intended to accept it. There was little chance he would gain all he hungered for, but need and

curiosity made him eager to take whatever he could right now and hope there were no heavy

consequences for doing so.

He brushed his lips over hers again and felt her shiver faintly. Slipping his fingers into her thick, soft hair, he began to kiss her. Very quickly he needed more than the sweet, restrained closed-mouth kiss he was giving her, and he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Alana gasped softly and he

took quick advantage of her slightly parted lips. The way she tensed for a moment told Gregor she

had probably never had a man’s tongue in her mouth, and the thought that he was the first to give

her such a kiss was a heady one, intensifying his desire for her. He prayed he could keep his desire

tethered enough not to frighten her.

Alana nearly shoved Gregor away when he stuck his tongue in her mouth, but the urge proved a

very fleeting one. The way he stroked the inside of her mouth soon had her clinging to him, silently

demanding more of the same. Desire swept through her body. She was not so innocent that she did

not know where such intoxicating kisses could lead her, but she decided she could wait a little

longer before putting a stop to things.

Then Gregor moved his hand away from lightly stroking her side, up her ribcage, and onto her

breast. The intimate touch sent fire streaking straight to her loins. What shocked her, however, was

that she could feel his desire almost as strongly as if it were her own. She could almost smell it as well. Although she had heard about such a thing from her grandmother and Aunt Elspeth, she had

never fully believed it. She certainly had never expected to feel such a thing herself. Alarmed by the strangeness of it all, she placed her hands on his broad chest, ignored the tantalizing feel of all that smooth, taut skin beneath her hands, and pushed.

He tensed and then slowly eased himself up on his forearms. Alana did not really need to see the

light flush upon his cheeks and the way his eyes had darkened to a deep storm cloud blue, or even

hear how heavily he was breathing to know how hard he was trying to rein in his desire. She could

feel it. She suspected she looked much the same, especially since she carried the weight of his

desire as well as her own.

If her grandmother and aunt were right, this man staring down at her, his long hair falling forward

to brush against her cheeks, was the man she was made for. Gregor MacFingal Cameron was her

mate. Just what she should do about that, she did not know. Her next steps could determine her

entire future, and she needed to think hard on the matter. Tempting though it was, she could not let

passion rule her. Her grandmother and aunt had been willing to gamble that the passion in their

chosen man went deeper than his loins, but Alana was not sure she was that brave or daring.

Recalling the tales of all the trials, tribulations, and heartbreak both women had suffered before

finding happiness, Alana was even less certain of her own daring.

Gregor stared down at Alana. Every part of him was demanding that he ignore the silent rebuff

implied by those soft hands gently pushing against his chest. He fought hard to subdue that heedless, greedy part of him. She had every right to halt their love-play. He took comfort in the fact that her desire obviously flared as quickly and fiercely as his own, even if it was a little embarrassing that she had more control than he did.

It was too soon, he told himself as his breathing grew steadier and the hard knot of need in him

eased ever so slightly. Alana was a wellborn maiden, her innocence proclaimed by the inexperience

of her kiss. This was not a woman one pushed too hard. Her desire was still a stranger to her and to

use it against her would do more harm than good. She needed to be coaxed, gently seduced, and

taught to revel in her passion, not shy away from it. Since the women he had known in the past had

needed none of that, being neither innocent nor shy, Gregor was not sure he possessed such skills.

With the heady taste of her kiss still lingering in his mouth, however, he was more than willing to

learn them.

“Och, sorry, lass,” he murmured as he rolled off her.

“Sorry?” Alana felt his expression of regret like a hard blow to the chest.

“Aye, I lost all control.” He dared a quick kiss upon her cheek. “Ye are a bonnie lass and I wished a taste of ye. ’Twas ill done of me to steal one whilst ye were barely awake and still all atremble from a bad dream.”

She breathed an inner sigh of relief, pushing away that unwelcome stab of pain his words had

caused. For a moment, she had feared he was apologizing because he had kissed her, had simply

turned and reached out for the warm female body at his side without really knowing who it was.

That would have meant those feelings that had so alarmed her, that sense that she had felt his

passion as well as her own, were born of no more than her own imagination. Although the idea that

she could share his feelings in such a way made her uneasy, she had been sharply disappointed to

think she had been so very wrong about that. His apologizing for taking advantage of her when she

was more asleep than awake was acceptable, although she did not think he looked all that guilty.

“Aye, it was a verra bad dream,” she said quietly, unable to think of anything to say concerning the

kiss and his apology. She did not regret the kiss at all and did not wish to push him too far away by saying the wrong thing.

“It concerned your sister?” Gregor asked.

Alana sighed and wondered if she ought to tell him to stop stroking her hair. She decided to act as if there was nothing unusual about such a caress, for it felt good and she selfishly wished it to

continue. “Aye. Keira was in danger. A man was threatening her. There was such an evil air about

him that it chilled me.” She frowned. “There was someone else there who attempted to help Keira, a

young girl, but the man easily tossed her aside. He put his hand upon Keira’s throat and began to

squeeze. I could taste her fear, e’en feel her growing need for air,” Alana whispered.

Gregor was startled by the vividness of Alana’s nightmare. It was not filled with impossibilities,

omens, or demons born of some hidden fear, as most were. This sounded more like a seeing than a

dream, more of a foretelling than an imagining.

Then, suddenly, he recalled a few of the things he had heard of the Murrays. It was said that many

of them had gifts, from a healing touch to the sight. Alana was also a twin, and there were enough

of those within his own clan for him to know that, sometimes, they could seem to know each

other’s thoughts or feelings without a word being spoken.

It appeared Alana was not going to lay claim to any gift, however. Gregor was not sure he liked her

having one. Such things made him uneasy, even if he did not believe that they were the devil’s work

as so many others did. That fear was probably the reason she was cautious, but he realized he did

not like her hiding things from him. He could not allow her to hide this from him, no matter how

unsettling it was for him. Gregor just hoped this gift was one that was restricted to what was

happening with her twin sister. A true seer would be a very uncomfortable person to be around.

“A verra clear dream, lass,” he said. “’Struth, I would call it a vision.” The way she paled slightly and cast him a wary look told him he was right.

“Nay, ’twas but a bad dream.”

“Ah, lass, ye are a verra poor liar. I do ken a wee bit about the Murrays and the gifts so many of

them are blessed with. Ye dinnae need to fear my kenning it.”

“Nay, ’tis Keira who has a gift. She has the healing touch, ye ken. I am just verra close to Keira.”

“Aye, verra close indeed. ’Twas such a bad dream that made ye risk trailing after your brothers,

wasnae it?”

Alana sighed, briefly closed her eyes, and then looked at Gregor again. He was not going to accept

her evasive replies. She had spoken too freely concerning her dream and there was no retreating

from her own words. There was a chance that Gillyanne had spoken of the Murrays’ many gifts,

ones sprinkled about the clan a little more often than they liked, considering the dangerous