Chapter 9
NINE
AT EACH OTHER
Ella
A smirking Ally hovered in my bedroom doorway, his eyes dancing with delight. “Did ye kiss my brother?”
“No comment.”
“But ye did.”
“Go away.” I forced back my smile and found my phone on the heavy old dresser.
On screen waited an email from the lawyers and two missed calls from my brother, no voicemails.
I caught the gist of the email as I dismissed it—confirmation that my university fees had been paid—then dialled James’s number.
I turned my back to Ally, an eyebrow arched.
I was only partially mad at him for the interruption; I still wanted that kiss.
“I’m bored now and need someone to talk to,” Ally said.
The call connected but went straight to voicemail, asking me to record a message. I hung up, tapping out a quick text to say I’d try him again later. Other than telling me they’d landed safely, he hadn’t been in contact.
“What happened to Kaylee?”
He shrugged. “One-night stand. Well, a day and a night.”
“You’re not going to see her again?”
Ally gave a dramatic shudder and brushed his arms off. “No! She’s a sweetheart, but I’m starting as I mean to go on, like my brother. Play the field, learn my skills.” He lifted his hands above his head and raised his shoulders to an imaginary beat.
Way more than I needed to know. “Poor girl.” Then something he said suddenly leapt out at me. “Do you mean Gordain?”
“What?”
“The brother who’s the hit-it-and-quit-it guy?” I already knew the answer but asked anyway.
Ally frowned and stopped his ridiculous dance moves. “Yeah.” Then his eyes widened. “But he’s never been serious about anyone before,” he added in a rush. “I didn’t mean—”
“Ah, stop, I don’t care. It’s not like I want anything serious.” I gave my own pretend shudder. Gordain and I weren’t even a thing; there was nothing more to it than mutual, temporary attraction.
Ally’s gaze gentled. “So you were at each other earlier.”
I trusted Ally. Despite playing the fool ninety-nine percent of the time, he had a good heart. Suddenly, I didn’t want him to see me as pathetic.
“I was about to kiss him. Or him me, so yes. But I’ll be going to uni soon and catching up with the rest of the human race in screwing around.”
“Gordain is your practice man? Does he know that?”
“Did Kaylee?” I shot back, irritated by a niggling feeling that, though nothing had happened, I was doing something wrong by Gordain.
Ally peered at me. “I was upfront. You should be, too.”
With that, he turned on his heel and left me to mull over his words.
Ten minutes later, and I’d crossed the great hall and entered the narrow passageway at the back right-hand corner. It came out at a set of spiral steps, and I climbed them, my heart thudding. Then I stood outside the door to Gordain’s rooms and dragged in a breath.
“Here goes nothing,” I said to myself, raised a hand and knocked.
“Come in,” he yelled over the music playing.
I pushed the door, slipped through, then leaned back to close it with a thud.
“Ally?” Gordain called again, his voice coming from a room adjacent to me in the little hallway.
“Guess again,” I replied.
The music stopped, and a door opened. Gordain appeared in the frame, backlit by a bright light and with shower mist settling around his bare feet. He fastened a white towel around his waist. Otherwise, he was gloriously naked.
Water ran down his inked skin. My mouth dropped open.
Neither of us spoke.
A heavy tension grew. Gordain rolled his shoulders, a barely perceptible move, and his gaze took me in.
“Want me to put a shirt on this time?” he asked, his voice low, almost taunting.
“Don’t you dare.” I gathered my courage and took a couple of steps until I stood before him. My hand shook, but still I reached out and pressed a fingertip to the tattoo of flight wings on his right pectoral muscle. “Which was your first?”
Gordain blinked, closing his eyes for a long second. Then he took my hand and moved my finger to his biceps to trace over an image of two stags. “This one. I got it when I was sixteen. The McRae coat of arms.”
“Ours has a lion,” I murmured.
He gave a short laugh. “Makes sense. Fitzroys and bravery go together. I’ve learned that much.”
Except I wasn’t feeling very brave. More young and foolish. Even so, I couldn’t deny the force of attraction that pulled me into this man’s orbit.
Taking his hand with me, I drew my finger through the water drops that clung to his collarbone.
My breathing came short, and heat flushed my cheeks.
Every muscle of his beautiful body was honed and hard.
Each drawing on his skin skilfully done, all in black or a dark blue.
I mapped a compass, then a swirling pattern like the rotors of a helicopter in motion.
He let me explore, his body taut where he held himself still.
I flattened my palm over the bare patch of skin right above his heart. “Nothing here?”
“Not yet. Never had anything so close to my heart that I needed to make it permanent.”
Gordain released my hand and took my upper arm gently in his grip. I finally raised my gaze to his face. His eyes flared, their ferocity burning into mine.
Oh boy.
“Can I ask a dumb question?” I said.
He lifted his chin once.
“You’re single?”
“Aye.”
We were close. Very close.
“And you’re never serious about relationships?” Because I had to be sure. I couldn’t set myself up for a fall if I knew how this would go from the first.
“Never had anyone I wanted to be serious about,” he replied.
“Okay.” I chewed my lip, no idea how to take this to the next step despite him being right there, his mouth inches from mine.
“Any more questions?”
“N—” I said but before I even finished my no, Gordain pulled me in by the waist, and his mouth landed on mine.
Oh God.
Instinct had my eyelids shuttering. My entire focus became the warmth of his lips moving over mine. It took a second for my senses to fully awaken, but then a small gasp escaped me, and my blood surged. I kissed him back, urgently, holding on to his biceps for dear life.
Our mouths fused.
I wanted to be good at this. I was so, so out of my depth.
Still, it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me.
“Ella,” Gordain murmured.
He pulled his head back, and I opened my heavy eyelids to find him staring at my lips, intensity in his gaze. He brought his hand to cup my chin and laid a soft kiss on my cheek. One on the corner of my mouth.
A self-confident smirk crept onto his face. “Is this what you imagined?”
Torture, or torment. Oh, so gentle. “Uh-huh,” I managed.
“Good.” Then he kissed me again, harder.
This time, I opened my mouth under his. A quick study.
Our tongues touched, and Gordain made a sound of pure, masculine hunger.
His careful control evaporated. Urging me to take a step back, Gordain pressed his body firm against mine until my shoulders hit the wall.
I parted my legs around his knee, and he pinned me to the stone.
His thigh wedged between mine, right at the juncture of my legs.
All the while our tongues slid together, him leading, me following.
In the past, when I’d dreamed about this, I hadn’t guessed at the wave of heat, the heightening of every sense, the surge of my blood. I fucking trembled under his kiss.
I wanted to claw at him. Drag him closer still.
Reading my mind, Gordain hoisted me, somehow keeping the towel around his waist. I wrapped my legs about his middle and circled his bare shoulders with my arms. His hands gripped my backside. He hauled in a breath, his gaze hazy. Then he blinked, as if he realised who I was and what we were doing.
No way. This wasn’t about to stop.
I drew my fingers over his buzzed-short hair and tilted his head up. Now it was my turn to take what I wanted. I pressed a soft kiss to his top lip. His light stubble scratched my skin.
I liked the roughness of it. The manliness of every inch of him. His hard dick—what a surprise that was—pressing against my core. I was dizzy with want.
My second peck had him growling then plundering my mouth once more.
If I could shut off my brain, I’d happily let Gordain carry me to his bedroom, lay me out, and thrust inside me. My body needed it, craved the release.
But the rest of me wasn’t ready.
I’d chosen a man who I knew wouldn’t push me beyond where I wanted to go. For now, I was content in our hungry kisses. In learning how his body felt.
All the while, I was so, so aware of the gulf of experience between us. From the noises he made, and how hard he was, something was working for him. Or maybe he was just horny and this was how guys could be.
Except there was no way I could be good at this.
And my fingers were calloused from my violin.
Was that a turn off? It couldn’t be sexy.
My cruel insecurity had me lose my beat, and the kiss turned sloppy. I pulled away and hid my face in his neck, all of a sudden embarrassed, tripping myself up with my thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” Gordain asked. He nuzzled my cheek, trying to get me to look at him.
“I’m just… I wish I was better at this,” I said into his skin.
“Are you crazy?”
“No. I’ve only ever kissed one boy before. And he told me I was terrible.” It had been on one of the rare trips Taylor and I took into the village near our school. She’d flirted with a boy, and I’d tried and failed at my first kiss with one of his friends.
“Ella, look at me.”
I did, peeking into his gorgeous eyes. Dove grey now. His eyelids were low, his gaze hot. He rolled his hips, rigid against me. “Can’t you tell how much I’m enjoying your kiss?”
His compliment brought a smile back to my face, though I still felt awkward.
“That boy was an idiot,” Gordain continued. He kissed my neck.
“I’ll get better. Maybe after I’ve been at university and had some practice, I won’t be so hopeless.”
“You don’t need to get better—” Gordain halted midway through his sentence. A flash of emotion crossed his features, and he closed his mouth.
It looked like hurt, his fleeting reaction.
From somewhere in his apartment, a buzzing sounded.
“What’s that?” I asked.
The buzzing came again, and Gordain lifted his head. He blinked, and his features hardened.
“My emergency radio. Need to put you down, lass. Keep your eyes up in case I lose the towel.”
I complied, instantly missing the closeness.
Kissing Gordain McRae was the stuff dreams were made of. Unimaginably erotic. Teasing and satisfying in equal measures. More than enough for this sheltered girl.
For now, at least.
Gordain reinstated his towel and stepped into the snug lounge. From a shelf stacked with books and DVDs, he collected a tall black radio with an aerial. I’d seen it elsewhere in the castle but never thought to ask what it was.
“Mountain rescue. I’m on duty when I’m home,” he said, frowning as he pressed a button. “Gordain McRae.”
A voice barked back, asking him to confirm his availability and location. He did, his body held tense.
“One adult male, one adult female, one confirmed injury. Evacuation procedure. Ben Crathie. Pick up en route.”
Gordain answered then signed off and brought his gaze to mine, all action in his moves, no hurt now, just solid edges. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”
I followed him into the hall then waited outside his bedroom, giving him privacy while he dressed. The devil in me wanted to sneak a peek at him, but our moment was over.
Besides, I was sure I’d ruined it.
Gordain exited his room, dragging a waterproof jacket over a long-sleeved sweatshirt. He was in the zone, ready to go.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be out. The mountain we’ve been called to can be tricky.”
“Be careful.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shuffling out of his way.
He grabbed his phone and the radio from the den then returned to me. “We’ll talk tonight.”
Talk? That didn’t sound good. “I’m sorry I made that weird. Just look after yourself out there.”
“You didn’t make anything weird, Ella. I did.” Gordain shook his head and strode away. “See you later.”
Then he was gone, his bootsteps drumming down the stairs, away from me.
Ally joined me in the kitchen, hours after Gordain had left. I’d made chicken pasta—one of the few dishes I knew how to cook—guessing that Gordain would be likely exhausted and in need of feeding when he got back.
Except he’d been so long already. Worry dogged me.
The younger McRae took a bowl and ladled himself out a huge portion of the meal.
“Smells amazing,” he said, spooning it into his mouth. He sat at the kitchen island and seized the tub of freshly grated cheese, dumping a handful on top of his food. “Who knew you could cook? You can stay.”
I couldn’t raise a smile. “Ally, what normally happens on a mountain rescue?”
Ally slowed his chewing. “You mean what does my brother normally do? He’s in the back of the heli. He’s not licenced to fly the rescue helicopter yet so he goes out on the winch to pluck people who are stupid enough to get stuck up in the mountains.”
The kitchen had grown dark as the evening drew in, and I flipped on the counter lights. It should’ve made a cosy glow, but it only reminded me that Gordain was out there risking himself in the failing light. I drummed my fingers and glanced at the round clock for the fiftieth time.
“Are you worried?” Ally cocked his head to one side. “I thought you weren’t that into him, he was just a practice guy.”
“He’s still my friend.” And my brother’s best friend, at that. “Shouldn’t you be worried, too? He could get hurt.”
“I’m kidding.” He pushed his bowl back and clambered off the chair.
Then, with surprising tenderness, he gave me a side-hug.
“Gordain’s been to a war zone, ye ken. They packed him off for a tour when he started his pilot training.
I spent months waiting for a phone call to tell us he’d been shot down. ”
“But the call never came,” I decided, blowing out a breath.
Ally shook his head. “Wrong. It did. His Chinook got shot out of the sky. We only found out about it after he’d been rescued, but it gave us all nightmares for weeks.”
God! “Was he hurt?”
“No. The pilot managed to land on a slope and slide it to the bottom. We’re not meant to know the mission details, but they all survived to be rescued. Gordain was copilot. He knows his stuff.”
He ruffled my hair and sat back in his seat, commencing his assault on the food once more. “That couldn’t hurt him, and this won’t either. We’re mountain men.” He puffed out his chest. “Even if Gordain lost the heli, he’d know how to find his way to civilisation again.”
His words didn’t help my worries.
All I could do was wait.