Chapter Twelve #2
His gaze clashed with hers, his brows furrowed as he searched her face.
“Lass?” She liked it when he called her lass instead of her given name. “What is it?”
She pressed her lips together, unsure how to voice what she wanted. Would he deem her too forward if she said aloud how she wanted him to kiss her again?
Errol straightened, pulling on his neck. He looked uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his handsome face.
Without thinking, she lifted her hand to his cheek and stroked gently, the stubble of hair rough under her fingers.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm.
That meant he enjoyed her touch, didn’t it? Otherwise, he would shy away from her touch, wouldn’t he?
Feeling daring, she took another step and closed the distance between them so that she was nearly flush against him.
Sensing her closeness, Errol’s eyes snapped open. “Lass,” he warned. His voice sounded different. Strained. But his eyes blazed with amber flecks in the brown.
She stepped up on her tip toes, moving her lips closer to his. He made no move to back away. No move to stop her.
She felt emboldened.
His eyes tracked her every move and when her lips finally touched his, he lifted his hands and cupped her face, his fingers stroking along her jawline.
Spinning them around, she found her back against the cool wall of the cave as he plundered her mouth as if he were starving and she were the only food around.
His tongue teased the seam of her mouth, and she parted her lips, allowing him entry. As his tongue delved inside, sweeping along her own, she brought her hands up to grasp his broad shoulders, bunching his tunic in her fingers.
A warmth grew deep in her belly, gaining strength, making her want more, but she didn’t ken what that more was. She only kenned that there was something else she longed for.
Errol’s hands dropped to her hips and pulled her closer, grinding his hips against her. She could feel the hard length of him, and her breath caught in her throat.
She wanted to feel his hands everywhere. Roaming over her body as if she were a map and he was the explorer ready to conquer her lands.
He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers, his warm breath coming out in pants, fanning over her face.
“We cannae do this, Lass.”
“I-I want to.” But what was it she wanted to do? She didn’t ken. She only kenned she didn’t want the delicious sensations that he’d stirred within her to stop. She wanted them to keep going. To keep building. To let the inferno grow.
He groaned, rolling his hips and she sighed. “Ye fit so perfectly to my body, Lass. ’Tis a torture such as I’ve ne’er felt afore.”
“’Tis torture for ye to stop kissing me.”
He chuckled, the sound smooth as whisky rolling over her. “I want to do so much more than kiss ye, Lass.”
“Then why do ye no’?”
His arms wrapped around her, and he brought her head to his chest, resting his chin upon it. “Do I really need to list all the reasons?”
“If ye are going to stop, I only feel ’tis right. I like the feel of yer lips upon mine. I want to feel them again. Is that wrong to say? To ask?”
“Nay. Aye.” He sighed, the sound so loud it nearly echoed off the stone walls. “If only it were that easy. And afore ye believe aught else, I verra much enjoy the feel of yer lips. Much more than yer lips, actually. Yer body against mine feels meant to be. As if ye were created for me.”
She pulled her head away from his chest to meet his eyes. “Mayhap I was.”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and she tracked the movement. She wanted to draw it into her mouth.
“Our families, Lass.”
“Families that at one time were joined. They werenae enemies. Just the opposite. We’ve just started to uncover the truth, but ye cannae deny it.”
Errol shook his head. “I cannae. But ’tis no’ that easy.”
“Why no’?”
“For one, ye are Laird Hart’s daughter. Do ye ken what he will do to me once he finds out that we have kissed. Or worse, lain together? Or yer brothers? But ’tis no’ only them. My own father will have the same reaction.”
“I dinnae understand why ye men all believe ye must continue with whate’er feud ye have conjured up in yer minds.
No’ a single one of ye can say why we have been fighting all these years.
Why we should be fighting. Why we should remain enemies.
” She pushed away from Errol and grabbed his hands.
“Why can we no’ say enough. Why can we no’ order a cease to all the fighting?
End the violence betwixt our two clans. Is that too much to ask? ”
Errol scraped his hands back and forth across his scalp. Then rubbed the back of his neck. “There is so much history that has happened. Ye cannae expect that to be ignored.”
“It doesnae have to be ignored, but it can be addressed, can it no’?”
She took two steps back and immediately felt the absence of Errol’s heat. She wanted to step right back into the warmth of his embrace, but if he was going to be stubborn as a mule, she couldn’t be so close to him right now.
He would have to take the steps to change the path of their clans. And then mayhap he could convince his father. And she could go home and convince her father. And her brothers. Would that really be so hard?
“Moira.” Errol’s voice held a tone of longing.
She held up her hand and shook her head. “Nay. Ye have said all that I need to hear.”
“Moira,” Errol pled.
She held up her hands, palms out. “I dinnae need to hear aught else, Errol. I’m sorry I took liberties, I shouldnae have.
’Twillnae happen again. Please accept my apology.
” Moving over to the other wall, she glanced up at the paintings and noticed another arrow pointing toward the back of the cave.
She looked deeper into the cave, her head tilted to the side as she studied what looked like to be the outline of a door.
Moving towards it, Errol swore behind her.
“Damn it, Moira.” He pushed off the wall. “Where are ye going?”
“Continuing on our quest.” She straightened her shoulders, trying to not show Errol how much his rejection had affected her. She wouldn’t allow him to see the hurt she was feeling deep in her belly.
Reaching the far wall, she pushed against the stone, but it didn’t budge. Her hands smoothed over the stone interior, searching for a lever or a notch or something that would open the door.
“What are ye looking for?”
Errol was standing so close behind her that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She could easily take a step back and be flush against his body. It took all of her might to stop herself from doing just that.
“Do ye no’ see it?” She pointed to the wall.
Finally, he dragged his gaze away from hers and studied the stone, his eyes widening when he saw it. “A door.”
“Aye. What do ye suppose is on the other side?”
“I dinnae ken. So far, e’erything we have found has been naught that I would have expected. So, who kens. Could be naught. Could be a treasure chest.”
Moira laughed. If only that were the case.
If it was a treasure chest than they could end this quest here and now and make their way back home.
Errol to MacLeod Keep, and she back to Hartsmoor.
For the first time, she wished for this hunt to be over, because she wasn’t sure if she could sustain being so close to Errol and not being able to touch him.
To act on the storm of feelings he’d awakened in her.
“There’s a latch here.” Errol said, his fingers wrapping around a smooth oblong stone. When he pulled, the door inched forward just a smidge. He pulled again and the door creakily swung open.
Kiss forgotten, Moira stepped forward, entering the antechamber they’d just revealed.