The Capture of Highland Desire (The Mac Coinnach Brothers) (10 page)

             
Murdo reached up and traced a finger down her jaw, shocking her and making her even more certain that her instincts had been right.  "So beautiful ye are, lass.  Would ye allow me just one kiss?"

             
She drew back, her heart pounding in her chest, but not in a good way.  She felt uneasy, wanted to get away.

             
She shook her head.  "Um, no, I don't think..."

             
He tightened his grip a little, pulling her closer so that their bodies were almost touching, and she could feel his heat.  "Hush lass, only a chaste kiss on the cheek.  No more than ye would give to yer uncle the laird.  Just so that I may brag that I once kissed a beautiful lady."

             
Before she could answer, he leaned in, his arms sliding around her as he bent over her.  True to his word, he gave her only a lingering kiss on the cheek then released her, but still she felt terribly violated somehow.  He whispered something softly near her ear, in a language she couldn't understand, but that somehow sounded ancient, something that she should know perhaps... 

Suddenly she felt dizzy, and her vision began to grow dark around the edges. 
She knew what this was… god, he was trying to put her under a spell of some sort!  Panic rose in her chest, and she wasn't sure if she'd been standing there for just a moment, or for hours.  Forcing her body to comply, she shook her head, fought to clear it, and pushed him away.  

             
"What... what did you just do to me?" she demanded indignantly.

             
He smiled at her, but this time the smile was not half so charming.  "I only kissed ye, lass.  Have ye never been kissed before?"

             
No… oh no, that was magic.  And she did
not
mean the kiss.  He had definitely just tried to put some sort of spell over her.  To what end, she didn’t know, but nothing she would have agreed to, that was for sure.  Anger rose in her belly and filled her veins with fire.  "Who are you really?” 

His eyes narrowed and she could have sworn they glowed just a little, which was when Allia
realized she didn’t really want to stick around for introductions.  “Leave!” she hissed at him.  “Leave me alone!" 

Allia turned and
ran back to the castle as fast as she could, not daring to look behind to see if he followed.  Murdo McDermont was not an ordinary man; that much she knew.  And she also knew she had almost been in really big trouble just now.  If she weren’t as strong as she was, he could have taken over her mind and body and bent her to his will.  And she could bet that whatever his intentions were, they weren't good.  Damn, she had to be more careful!  For years she had been relatively safe in a time where almost everyone had forgotten about magic and other-worldly power.  It had been reduced to nothing more than the stuff of bedtime stories; no one really believed anymore that it could actually exist, or that it ever had.  But here... here it was alive and well, and she was fairly certain that the man who called himself Murdo had just tried to use it against her.

             
When at last she had reached the relative safety of the keep, Allia turned and looked back, but the man hadn’t followed her.  For a moment she debated telling her uncle what had happened, but quickly decided against it.  She would only end up with more guards, more trouble, and less freedom.  She could handle a man like Murdo McDermont (if that was even his real name), now that she knew what to look out for.  After all, she had been taking care of herself for years now. 

              If this was a contest to see who could be the first to win a kiss from the lady, Eian had just lost.  He turned and walked slowly away, needing to be alone somewhere to lick his wounds.  He had been lurking at the edge of the wood for the last hour or so, ever since he saw Allia working in the garden on his way back from the training fields and stopped to spy on her in secret.  She had been so beautiful, with the sun shining on her golden hair and a little smile of satisfaction playing on her lips every time she pulled a particularly large weed from the bed.  He couldn't help but smile too, every time she did.  He had stood there completely captivated, like a besotted fool, just watching her, and aye, of course day-dreaming about having her under him and bent to his will.  He
was
a hot blooded mac Coinnach male, after all. 

             
Then a man Eian had not seen before had approached her, and she had taken his arm and walked away with him.  Eian had followed silently, keeping to the trees to watch them.  He couldn't help it.  Already, despite his best intentions otherwise, raw, unbridled jealousy coursed through him, making it difficult to think, or even breathe.  Then the two of them stopped, and the man turned to face Allia, his large frame completely blocking her from his view as he bent over her.  He was kissing her.  Kissing her!  Even though he could only see the man’s back, it could be nothing else but a kiss.  Eian's stomach had twisted in such knots that he thought he might actually be sick.  She would not kiss
him
, but she would kiss another!  A strange, unfamiliar ache began in his chest, and he unconsciously raised a hand to rub at it.  He wanted to kill the man, whoever he was.  He wanted it so badly, he could practically feel the physical sensation of his fist striking him again and again until there was the snap of bone and spurt of blood.  He had to force himself to turn and leave before he lost control and ruined everything.  Or maybe there was nothing to ruin in the first place.  It was just that when he saw her there, with another man, every instinct he had started screaming that she was his, which was quite honestly scaring the hell out of him.  Maybe he was losing his mind… becoming obsessed.  He didn’t like the thought of that.

             
Now he wandered through the trees, the strange ache still plaguing him.  He had never felt this way before, and he didn't like it.  The lass was supposed to be his.  He had wanted her!  He had seen her first!  And he could not stand to see her with anyone else.  Was he truly jealous?  He couldn't remember ever having been jealous about a lass before, after all, there were always plenty to go around.  And he had never had a problem sharing, because to keep a lass for himself, even for a short time, implied far too much of a commitment.  Which was why he could not for the life of him understand what was happening now.  Perhaps it was just because he hadn't tupped her yet.  Maybe after he did, he would get over it feeling so possessive of her. 
Or maybe not
.

             
What if he never got over it?  A feeling slightly akin to panic washed over him.  Bloody hell!  What was wrong with him?  Part of him wanted to put the lass out of his mind and run, but a much larger part was clamoring for him to take
her
and run.  He paused long enough to slam his fist into a tree, something he hadn’t been in a bad enough temper to do for some time.  His knuckles split and bled, but at least he felt marginally better.  Perhaps he would be better off just forgetting all about her and going home to Creagmor.  Aye… that’s what he would do then.  He would leave first thing tomorrow and return to his brother with the charm (or what he thought was most likely the charm) and in no time Allia Logan would be nothing but a distant memory.  And Eian could return to his normal, pleasant routine.  He actually felt relieved at the prospect.

***

              The laird had asked him to sit at the high table again for dinner that evening, and Eian was wary.  It probably meant Leon either wanted something from him, or wanted to keep a closer eye on him, though he didn't think he had done anything to rouse suspicion.  As he approached the table, he caught sight of Allia, and as was usual these days, his stomach did that strange little flip, and his heart picked up its pace. 
Tomorrow, it will all be over…
She looked so beautiful, with her hair tumbling down her back in waves of soft gold, and the swell of her breasts rising just above the neckline of her emerald green gown.  She gazed up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, the candlelight highlighting her strong cheekbones and the delicate sweep of her brow.  For a moment he was transfixed, until the laird cleared his throat and nodded to the seat next to her. 

             
"Mac Coinnach, thank ye for joining us this evening.  Ye may sit beside my niece, Lady Allia.  Ye remember Eian Mac Coinnach, my dear?"

             
Allia nodded, narrowing her eyes at the uncharacteristic endearment.  "Aye, Uncle."  She gave Eian her best demure and practiced smile, offering him her fingertips.  Eian, though, had seen her scrabbling over rocks and heather, and knew that demure was not her true nature.  He preferred the fiery lass in the heather to this proper maiden in a gilded cage.  He took her fingers in his and bent to kiss them, and as he did, something akin to lightening sizzled unmercifully through his body at the contact, again.  He pulled back.

             
"My lady."

             
"Please, you may call me Allia."  God, how she hated all of this formality.  Why exactly was she doing this again?  Oh yes, she must stay in Uncle Leon's good graces. 
Don't want to be locked in my chamber before I figure a way out of this
.  Eian sat down beside her, and immediately she could feel his presence, as if the air had suddenly become electrically charged.  She had a crazy urge to touch him, lean close and nuzzle against his chest, breathe in the masculine scent of him.  She knew he smelled of untamed things, like wild storms and the sea.  Her gaze travelled from his chest to his sculpted arms to his strong hands... the right one of which was scraped raw and sporting a rather large gash across the knuckles.  Without thinking, she gasped and took the injured hand in hers to look more closely.

             
"Eian, God, what happened to your hand?"

             
"Nothing", he replied sulkily, abruptly pulling it away.

             
Allia looked up at him, shocked at his tone.  She didn't think she'd ever seen him in other than a good mood, always smiling and teasing.  Now his expression was darkly brooding, unapproachable, which unfortunately made him look all the more sexy and dangerous.  She drew in a heated breath.  What girl wasn't attracted to a little danger?

             
"Eian, what's wrong?  What happened?"

             
"I told ye, nothing."

             
"Won't you tell me what happened..."

             
Perhaps he was more on edge than she had first realized, because he suddenly snapped, standing up and slamming his hands down on the table, making his knuckles start to bleed again.  He gazed down at her where she sat, stunned at his outburst.  He looked very, very angry, but she could see something else there as well.  There was hurt and confusion deep in his eyes, and that was what tugged at her heart.  Something was wrong…

             
"It's no' yer business what happened", he said in a strained voice.  "Just as it's no' my business what ye do in yer spare time."  He turned to Leon.  "Pardon me Laird, I fear I am no' verra hungry this evening."  And with that he turned and left.

             
Allia watched him go, then turned her gaze to her uncle, expecting him to be angry.  Instead he was watching her with narrowed eyes, as if gauging
her
reaction.  She looked away and quickly stabbed her knife into a bite of turnip and tried to act as if Eian’s abrupt departure didn’t really bother her.  "I can't imagine what his problem was, I only asked how he hurt his hand.  I might have offered to bandage it for him."  As a lady of the castle, such things would have easily fallen within her duties.  Perhaps she had only imagined it, but she could have sworn her uncle was stifling a smile as he turned to speak with the man on his left.  And why hadn’t he redressed Eian Mac Coinnach for publicly insulting her with his rude behavior?  She really had no idea
what
was going on. 

              Eian slammed back another dram of whiskey, hoping for a temporary reprieve from the thoughts plaguing his mind.  Och, this was exactly why he'd always made it his policy to just live life to the fullest, and not think too much about it.  Thinking too much now was only making him miserable.  He poured more whiskey into his cup from the jug on the table, and raised it to the group of men who were cheering him on.  He had never lost a drinking contest, and tonight was the perfect night for one.  He couldn't bring himself to look at Allia with another man, and he couldn't bring himself to leave Lochain tonight, either.  And he
certainly
wasn’t going to admit to himself that all signs were pointing to the lass being his mate.  The only thing left to do, it seemed, was to get really, really drunk.  The only problem was, as usually happens when one mixes a group of high-strung warriors with too much whiskey, eventually a brawl broke out.  And Eian was soon in the thick of it, with the crowd cheering them all on. 

Already well into his cups, he took nearly as many blows as he landed, until he eventually stumbled
, or maybe he was shoved, out of the hall and into the night.  Weaving across the yard, he eventually came to the stable and slumped down against an outside wall.  He could already feel his eye swelling, and something dripped down his face that he suspected might be his own blood, but he didn't really care.  The whiskey had numbed the pain, but to his considerable irritation, it hadn't taken away the conflicting feelings that were threatening to drive him mad. 
Bloody hell
. 
What if she is my mate?  No… can’t be… want her so badly…