Michelle Willingham - Highlanders - The Warrior and the Rose / The Forbidden Highlander / Rescued by the Highland Warrior

All thought had vanished. There was only his hard, heated body and her raging need. Juliana reached down and ran her hand over the back of his hard thigh, beneath his leine, and then up over his hard buttock. He began moving his mouth over her rib cage, her belly. He went lower and Juliana went still, paralyzed.

She felt his tongue. Desire exploded.

She wept in pleasure and, when he rose back over her and moved hard within her, she wept in ecstasy.

* * *

JULIANA WAS AFRAID to move. She listened to Alasdair as he left the bed and moved about the dark chamber, carefully tugging her cote and surcote down. She heard him stoking the fire. Then she heard a whoosh, and the chamber blazed with light.

She instantly saw him standing by the hearth, his back to it, as he stared at her.

She felt her cheeks flame. Her heart slammed. Slowly, she sat up. Her sanity had returned.He was Alasdair Og and she was Juliana MacDougall. Worse, she was his hostage. What had she done?

“Did I hurt ye?” he asked quietly.

“No, you did not hurt me.”

What had just happened? How had it happened? When she had never done more than kiss a man before? And she did not want to speak with him now. She stood up. With her fingers, she raked through her long hair, hoping he would not see that she trembled, and then hurriedly braided it.

He walked away, opened a chest, returned. He handed her a ribbon.

She tied the braid, not looking at him. The ribbon was blue, of course it was, him being a MacDonald.

Damn it, she thought. Why had she just experienced such uncontrollable desire? Why now, with her worst enemy, of all possible men?

And he was staring. She wanted him to stop. She wet her lips. “Will you free Mary and her sons?” At least some good might come of this horrible mistake.

But he did not reply. He simply stared at her.

Her heart sank in shock and disbelief. “I slept with you!” she cried. “You will not free them?”

“Ye slept in my bed because ye wanted to be with me. Yer a passionate woman and we both ken.”

She could not deny either claim. “You deceived me,” she began.

He raised his hand, his face hard. “I did not plan this. I made no promises. Ye followed me into my chamber.”

She froze. And too late, she knew she had erred by daring to approach him in this room.

“But I will free yer sister when her ransom is paid, that is my promise.” With that, he strode to the door. Then he turned. “Will ye come to dine?”

She was ravenous but she hesitated.

“There is no point in starving,” he said, “or in crying over what we did. ’tis done. Why dinna ye check on yer sister and come downstairs. Ye can meet my father. My mother will be pleased to have yer company.” He gave her an intense look and left.

Juliana trembled. It was done. She had thrown all caution to the wind by following him into his chamber, and then she had acted like a common harlot. She might have hoped to free her sister, but, if she dared be honest with herself, Mary had not been on her mind once they had begun to kiss. Even though it made no sense, she had been overwhelmed by her desire for Alasdair.

CHAPTER FIVE

JULIANA WISHED SHE had a looking glass. She hesitated on the threshold of the chamber she now shared with her sister and her nephews. She felt disheveled and untidy, and she worried her appearance might give her transgressions away. Mary would disapprove if she ever found out what had just happened. Worse, she would be disappointed. Juliana dared not consider how her brother would react, if he ever learned of her disloyalty. But it had been a mistake. She would never be so foolish again.

Juliana peered carefully inside.

All three boys were asleep in the bed, covered by one large fur. Mary stood before the fire, warming her hands. She turned when Juliana entered. “Where have you been?”

She could not claim she had spent the past hour or so begging Alasdair for their freedom. “I went to speak with Alasdair, and then I spoke with his mother,” she lied uneasily. She averted her eyes and was afraid she flushed. How she hated deceiving her sister.

Mary was quiet.

Juliana looked up. Now she saw the trencher on the chest, the plates there mostly empty. If Alasdair’s mother had brought their supper up by herself, she was caught in her lie.

“What did he say? Or should I even ask?”

“He said you and the boys will be freed when your ransom is paid,” Juliana said quickly.

“But what about you?”

Juliana started, recalling his exact words—he had not mentioned her ransom or her release. “Of course he will free me, too,” she said slowly. But as she spoke, she thought about the wild and shocking passion they had just shared—and suddenly, she was uncertain. Hadn’t she sensed that he had returned to attack Coeffin Castle because of her?

“What is wrong?”

She quickly smiled. “Nothing. I am simply...distraught...and I am tired, too.” She decided she was jumping to conclusions. He had not attacked Coeffin Castle in order to capture her. He had done so as an act of revenge against her brother.

“Maybe you should rest.”

“I intend to. Would you be disappointed with me if I went down to the hall to eat?”

“No.” For one moment, the sisters stared at one another. Mary added, “Be careful, Juliana.”

Juliana smiled and turned away. Her smile vanished as she went down the hallway. Her sister knew what she had done—she was certain.

* * *

JULIANA DID NOT go into the great room. She paused just beyond it, staring inside, instead.

Alasdair was seated beside his father, and as she looked at him, her heart thundered. No wonder she had leapt into his bed—he was a powerful and attractive man. She could not deny it now.

He was eating with a ravenous appetite while his father spoke to him. Angus Mor looked like an older version of his son, a big, muscular man, his cheekbones high and hard, although his long hair was mostly gray. He wore the same blue-and-red plaid about his shoulders, pinned there with a gold brooch. Lady MacDonald was also at the table, as were several Highlanders, all of whom she now recognized.

Angus Mor was speaking, but then he saw her and became quiet. All conversation stopped instantly, every pair of eyes turning upon her.

Alasdair leapt up, so quickly, it was almost comical. “Lady Juliana.”

She knew she blushed, and heatedly; worse, his gaze was very warm upon hers. “I am interrupting,” she said.

“Nonsense.” Lady MacDonald stood and came around the table, walking over to her. Alasdair remained standing—staring. She took her arm, guiding her back to the table. “I brought Lady Comyn and her boys their supper. I wasn’t certain if you would stay with them or join us.” She smiled.

Was she also wondering where Juliana had been during the past hour? Juliana now avoided looking in Alasdair’s direction, aware of him sitting back down. But unfortunately, she kept thinking about the passion they had just shared.

“You have not met my husband,” Lady MacDonald continued.

Angus Mor did not stand up, but he smiled at her. “Welcome to Dunyveg, Lady Juliana.”

Juliana met his blue eyes, which were cool and assessing. This man was the Lord of the Isles and her brother’s worst enemy. Unlike his son, he felt no admiration or affection for her. She knew from the course of her lifetime how dangerous he was. He and her brother had been at war almost incessantly since she was born, although she did recall a brief truce a few years ago, in which they had rebelled together against King Alexander, over some grievance they had briefly shared. “My lord,” she said uneasily. Suddenly she wished she had remained upstairs.

“Alasdair tells me ye are fearless,” he said.