Hearts of Highland Fire

Chapter 10

10

Iris was kissing James.

Albeit he had started the kiss, but now she had her arms wound around his neck, her lips just as hungry as his was to taste him.

He tasted of ale, the smell of a woodburning fire wafting up from his clothing, and heaven help her, Iris couldn’t get enough.

His lips were softer than she had anticipated them to be, his kissing far gentler than the few she had experienced in her lifetime from brave Scots that never attempted to do so again. Not only that, she felt like she was cherished for once—not as the laird’s daughter or as his warrior, but just plain Iris Wallace.

A lass in her own right.

Tentatively, Iris slipped her hands into his hair, and he groaned against her lips.

“Aye,” he whispered, his own hands moving into her own hair. “Touch me, lass.”

Never had Iris trembled as much as she was trembling right then, but it wasn’t because of fear or the chill in the air.

No, it was because of the feelings that swirled around her, feelings for James that she couldn’t control. She didn’t want to think about those, not when his lips pressed tightly against hers once more, his tongue tracing the seam. She gasped at the feeling, and James’s tongue swept in.

This wasn’t a kiss she had experienced before!

Not sure what to do exactly, Iris allowed James to guide her, rewarded by a groan or a growl when she stroked his tongue with her own. It wasn’t as horrid as she had thought it to be at all.

James made a sound deep in his throat as his hands left her hair and traveled down her side, his fingers lighting a fire everywhere they touched. Iris wanted him to touch her everywhere, without a stitch of clothing on. She wanted to feel the rough, callused pads of his fingers scraping against her skin to soothe the aches that were suddenly plaguing her body.

She wanted more, oh so much more.

A roughness was suddenly pressed at her back, causing Iris to break the kiss before she realized they had backed into a tree, sending a spray of water falling from its leaves.

“Iris,” James breathed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “Lass, ye undo me.”

Iris wasn’t sure what that meant, but the way he said it had her heart beating just a bit faster in her chest.

“Nay,” she stated, reaching for his neck to pull him back down. “Dinnae talk, James.”

She didn’t allow him to utter a single word as their mouths met again, and this time, Iris took the lead, grinning internally as it was James who gasped this time. She was a quick learner. That and she was acutely aware of his hard body pressed up against hers, the layers of clothing between them doing nothing to hide the fact that he had a warrior’s body under his. She could feel the hardness of his chest, his powerful thighs as he wedged a leg between hers.

This Scot was dangerous, and yet here she was, kissing him like there was no tomorrow on the horizon.

Oh, this was madness!

“Iris!”

Iris broke her mouth from James, her eyes wide. James opened his mouth to protest, but she slapped her hand over it, smothering his words.

Ian. Her brother was nearby!

“Iris, lass! Where are ye?”

James’s eyes widened along with hers, and she shook her head, knowing that if her brother caught her with him, he would demand not only an explanation but likely run James through with his sword. There was no mistaking now that James was their enemy and what clan he served.

He tugged her close, removing her hand from his mouth.

“’Tis alright,” he murmured. “We are hidden by the trees. He wilnae find us.”

But he could, and that was all that mattered to Iris.

“I have tae go,” she whispered, untangling her other hand from his hair and sidestepping him so that she could get out from underneath his warm, strong form.

“Iris,” he hissed, grabbing her arm as she turned to go. “Dinnae! I didnae come here tae do that.”

Hurt wound its way through her veins.

“Ye didnae mean tae kiss me?”

His eyes widened. “Nay! I mean I didnae mean tae, but I wanted tae and—bloody hell, this isnae coming out like I planned.”

A small piece of her heart softened toward James. He clearly looked confused, and it was endearing.

“Dinnae follow me,” she said softly. “Or else he will know.”

Before James could answer her, she hurried out from underneath the tree, scrubbing at her mouth to remove the taste of James’s lips from her own. She had often seen the way the other lass’s mouths looked after they had been kissed, and if her brother saw her now, he would know what she had been doing.

She heard Ian call her name again, but instead of going toward his voice, she went away from it, sticking to the coverage of the forest until she saw the tents up ahead. Once she was close enough, Iris ducked into the hoards of people around, attempting to look like she hadn’t been thoroughly kissed. That couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t be kissing James when he was her enemy.

The next morning, Iris rubbed her aching brow as she took her place before the platform. After coming back from the forest, she had imbibed in a bit of ale and whiskey to wash away the taste of James and his touch so that he wouldn’t plague her in her dreams.

It hadn’t worked. Her dreams had been filled with things that she had overheard other lasses discuss, things that James had done to her that had her gasping in her sleep.

Now all she had to show for it was an aching head and her tired form, pulling herself out of bed in time to make the next round of games.

The laird stepped up onto the platform and held up his hands, clearly excited about the morning.

“Mah fellow Scots!” he called out. “Taeday is a blessed day tae see yer handiwork on display!”

His arm swept to the left and Iris got her first glimpse of the targets in the distance.

Thank the gods it wasn’t sparring. She didn’t know if she could make it through the brutality of that so early in the morning and in her condition.

“Each participant will receive ten arrows,” he continued as a low murmur went through the gathered crowd. “Ten arrows for points. Each archer will be at distances that will garner points based on where they land on the targets. The archer with the highest number of points will be declared the winner!”

Iris grinned then. She was the best archer in her father’s warriors no matter what the distance. This competition was hers.

Her traitorous heart looked about and found James standing near the platform, his eyes on her instead of the speaking laird. Iris’s stomach did a funny flip as he gave her a slow smile and she cleared her throat, looking away before her cheeks could turn red.

No, they were likely already red. Oh, that Scot was a distraction, and it was important for her to remember such!

“Here,” Ian said at her side, thrusting her bow into her hands. “’Tis time for ye tae show them wot a Wallace is made of, Iris.”

With a single nod to her brother, Iris joined the rest of the participants as they lined up in front of the targets, her jaw set in determination. The range was close, far closer than she had expected, but she could see the flags marking the distances they would be tried on, and she couldn’t help but feel the excitement flutter in her stomach.

This wasn’t going to be an issue for her. She was going to best the entire lot.

“Ready!”

Pulling out the arrow she had been given, its tip painted the color that was tied around her waist, Iris pulled back on her bow, feeling the strain in her shoulder and forearm. A few breaths in and out like her father taught her, she calmed herself, focusing on the target ahead.

“Fire!”

Iris let the arrow fly, watching with pride as it sailed through the air and hit the target square in the middle. With a whoop, she grabbed the bag of arrows.

It would be too easy to win this one.

An hour later, Iris was cocking her bow, her eyes following the path in which she would let her arrow fly. It was the last target from a few hundred yards out, and she didn’t anticipate struggling like some others had to hit it dead center.

In fact, that was exactly what she planned on doing.

Drawing in a breath, Iris focused on the target and then slowly exhaled, feeling the slight sting of the arrow on her cheek as it flew past. It whizzed through the air at such a speed that even she was amazed, and when it hit the target dead center, she allowed herself to grin.

She had done it. She had won the competition!

“Wallace clan—the victor!” the advisor called out before the cheers erupted and Iris found herself surrounded by her competitors, some even begrudgingly congratulating her.

She nodded her thanks, and her eyes caught James’s, who just winked at her but didn’t approach her.

“Iris!”

“Lass!”

Iris turned to see both her brothers behind her, their grins hard to ignore.

“Ye did it!” Stephan announced, pumping his fist in the air. “I knew ye could.”

“Nice shot,” Ian drawled, placing his hand on her shoulder. “That will cause them all tae steer clear of ye now, including Lennox.”

Iris felt her blood run cold and accepted the ale that Stephan had shoved in her direction.

“Lennox?”

“Of the McGregor clan,” Ian finished, his eyes glittering with an emotion she couldn’t name. “He’s our enemy, Iris. Dinnae forget that.”

She scoffed, hoping that he couldn’t see the panic in her eyes.

“Och, of course he is. If I could have put an arrow in his body, I would have.”

Ian arched a brow. “Is that true?”

“Of course it is!” Stephan swept in, saving Iris from having to explain further. He threw his arm around her shoulders. “’Tis time tae celebrate, dear sister! Come, meet yer adoring lot that awaits.”

Iris let out a laugh, her eyes sliding to Ian as she allowed Stephan to lead her away. Her brother suspected something, but how? Had he seen James leave the forest after her?

She had been so careful! Right now, Iris felt like her shame was written all on her face for him to see.

Well, she would stay far away from him, Iris decided as Stephan led her through the camp. The kiss was something she shouldn’t have partaken in, especially with him.

Perhaps the longer she avoided James, the less these feelings would plague her, and the less she would want to seek him out to continue what she started.

Either that or she would have to start kissing random Scots to wipe his taste from her senses!

“That’s mah lass,” her father replied as they arrived at the tent, all the warriors crowding around to congratulate her. “Wallace blood runs through yer veins, Iris. There was never a doubt on mah part.”

She flushed under his praise, forgetting about James for now. This was what she came for, and this was the only thing that she would have when they left to return to their clan.

That and she needed to remember that James was indeed her enemy, no matter how much he had made her feel with that one kiss.

Or how she craved another.

Shaking her head, Iris joined her fellow clansmen in a rousing song about the Wallace clan, their voices loud and booming over the rest of the noise. One day her traitorous heart would agree to everything she had just decided.

It had to.