Margaret Mallory - The Sinner

“Ye told me about Ian,” she said. “Will ye tell me about your friend Duncan next?”

Why did she want to know about Duncan?

“Duncan is a fierce warrior,” he said, after a moment. “I’ve never seen him beaten. Not once.”

“I liked him,” she said. “He seems… dependable.”

Alex stifled a groan. “Aye, Duncan is exceedingly dependable. He’s steady, never wavers. Decides what he wants and that’s that.”

All the things that Alex was not.

“There is a good deal of mystery about Duncan’s birth,” Alex said. “And some say a bit of magic.”

“Ye must tell me,” Glynis said, turning wide eyes on him.

“When Duncan’s mother was a lass of sixteen, she was stolen from the beach one day,” Alex said, settling into his story. “A year later, she was returned to the same beach with a babe in her arms. That babe was Duncan.”

“Who took her?”

“His mother never breathed a word—not about what happened, or where she’d been, or who the father of her child was.” Alex paused. “Eight years later, it all happened again.”

“And she still hasn’t told?” Glynis was leaning so far out of her saddle that he feared she might fall off her horse.

"She took her secret to the grave.”

As they rode and he told his stories, Alex scanned the green hills sprinkled with summer flowers. The Campbell men should have turned back by now, but there were plenty of other dangerous men who traveled this trail through the mountains.

“Who is it ye must meet in Edinburgh before the end of the month?”

Alex winced. He had hoped she wasn’t listening when he mentioned that to Catherine.

“Ah, I see this is a story ye don’t wish to tell me,” Glynis said, raising her eyebrows. “Of course, now it is the only one I wish to hear.”

Alex rubbed his neck. He did not want to discuss the Countess or her letter with Glynis MacNeil.

“So who would be waiting for Alex Bàn MacDonald in Edinburgh?” She tapped her finger on her chin—it was a very pretty chin. “Definitely a woman.”

This lass, who was usually so serious, was teasing him. Alex might have enjoyed it for the sparkle in her eyes, if she had chosen a different subject.

“This particular woman must have something special ye want,” Glynis said, narrowing her eyes. “Not the same ‘reward’ Lady Catherine was offering, since ye clearly don’t need to travel all the way to Edinburgh for that.”

“All right, I’ll tell ye.” The tale he told about Sabine was short since he left out the bedding parts.

“A countess,” Glynis said, and there was a harder edge to her wit now. “I suppose that is even more impressive than an earl’s daughter.”

Alex never pretended to be other than what he was. Most women liked him, and he never cared much one way or the other whether they approved of him. And yet, it rankled like hell to have Glynis MacNeil think ill of him.

* * *

Glynis’s legs were so stiff when they finally stopped for the night that she could hardly walk. And yet, the hours had flown by. Alex Bàn MacDonald had a magical quality about him that she suspected drew females from age three to threescore. It wasn’t just his looks—though they were very fine indeed. When he was talking with you, he had a way of making you feel as if there was no one else in the world he’d rather be with.

Glynis realized that she was following Alex around the camp like a puppy and stopped herself. While he took care of the horses, she gathered dry moss and twigs for a fire.

“You’re a helpful lass.” Alex handed her the rolled blankets and squatted down to start the fire.

Glynis looked down at the blankets in her arms. Last night, Alex had been exhausted after rowing most of the night before. But now, with Alex wide awake and charm flowing from him like honey, the placement of the blankets seemed to take on more importance. How far apart should she spread them? On opposite sides of the fire, or side by side?

“Ye must be tired.” The glow of the sunset touched Alex’s hair as he smiled up at her. “Sit down, lass.”

She dropped down on a rock. Holding the blankets to her chest, she looked about her to avoid looking at him. Alex had chosen a lovely spot next to a loch surrounded by hills.

“In the morning, I’ll catch us fish for breakfast,” he said as he handed her dried meat and another oatcake. “We’ll make a quick meal of it tonight and get to bed.”

The oatcake caught in her throat. He’d spoken as if both the meal and bed were activities they would share. Glynis took a big gulp from the flask of ale and told herself this was not a good time to remember how he’d kissed her against the castle wall.

And yet, now that the memory had come into her head, there was no removing it.

Alex tugged at the blankets in her lap, reminding her that she still had them. When he laid them out side by side, she took another swallow of the ale. Would she have the strength to resist him?

A new question fluttered across her mind. Did she want to resist him?

* * *

Alex lay awake staring at the dark clouds moving against the darker sky and forced himself to think of his parents. Reliving their screaming battles in his head was his only hope for keeping his hands off the woman beside him.

His cock, however, didn’t want to listen to reason.

He knew damned well that Glynis did not want marriage any more than he did. And yet, she tried his will. Though she didn’t touch him, he could feel her leaning toward him in the darkness. Her desire vibrated through him. That made it damned difficult to keep his parents in his head.

Ye cannot have this woman. Ye cannot have this woman. He chanted the words over and over to himself. He gave up on his parents and imagined swimming through icy cold water.

Then he and Glynis were naked in a warm loch, with her hair streaming around them in the water …

Alex shook his head. There were no warm lochs in Scotland. Ach, this journey to Edinburgh was going to kill him for certain.

CHAPTER 13

Alex called on every saint he could think of to give him strength. Three days and nights alone with Glynis— especially the nights —and he was losing his mind.

He felt a prickle at the back of his neck again. He was so twitchy from unrelenting lust that he didn’t know if someone was on the trail behind them or if a flea was scratching itself a hundred miles away.

“We’ll go off the trail here to make our camp,” he said, in case there truly was someone coming up behind them. He was glad it had begun to rain, for that would wash out their tracks.

A short time later, he was cursing the weather. Only in the Highlands would it hail in mid-July. Now he’d have to make a lean-to for them to sleep under with one of their blankets—leaving them one blanket to share. The fairies were making mischief and laughing at him in their fairy hills.

“I’ll look for dry moss to start a fire,” Glynis said.

“No fire.”

“But I’m freezing,” she said, clutching her cloak close about her.

Alex refrained from suggesting the obvious method for two people to keep warm on a cold night.

“There might be someone behind us on the trail,” he said. “’Tis nothing to worry about, but we’ll wait until morning to build a fire.”

The icy pellets caught in her hair as Glynis helped him tie two corners of the blanket to a tree and stake the other corners to the ground with sticks.

“Duck inside while I take care of the horses,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

The wind was picking up as he led Rosebud and Buttercup into the brush by the creek that ran along the base of the valley.

A mix of hail and icy rain pelted his face as he hurried back to check on Glynis. When he crawled inside their makeshift lean-to, he found her shivering so hard that her teeth were chattering. Alex swore he could hear the fairies laughing as he put his arms around her and rubbed her back. The scent of her hair filled his nose. How could a woman smell so good after a long day of riding? He forced himself to release her as soon as she stopped shivering.