Chapter 1
One
It took a lot of nerve to face the devil in his lair. Or in the case of Eleanor ingen Alexander, it just took a lot of desperation. Desperation that hung in her heart and throat, choking her with its urgency.
If the devil refused to help her...
Well, she’d walk herself to England alone then. No one would sway her from this course. No one. Not her father, not her mother.
Not even the devil himself.
As she neared the cave at the top of the mountain, her courage faltered. Could a man really live in a cave? That was the rumor, but up until now she’d assumed it to be nothing more than a myth.
After all, the MacAllisters were the most respected and feared men in all of Scotland. They were also said to be the richest. Surely such men, unlike her burly and irksome father, would have some form of refinement.
Yet as she looked around the barren mountaintop, she saw nothing even remotely resembling a cabin or home.
Ewan MacAllister really was the barbarian of legend.
“That’s just as well.” She lifted the hem of her dark blue skirt to step around a cluster of rocks. She might be dreaming in her heart of a refined gentlemen of courtly virtues to win her hand, but a barbarian was what she needed at the moment.
A barbarian with a mighty big sword.
At the top of the craggy slope, she realized that the “cave” had a wooden door that was mostly concealed by brush and dirt. Apparently, Ewan MacAllister had no desire for visitors.
Any other time, she would take the hint and respect his wishes, but right now, she couldn’t afford to.
Her need for freedom was much greater than his for solitude.
Nora started to knock, then paused as she looked about the small cleared area.
What an interesting place he had here. The cave looked out onto the loch far below where the sunlight glistened on the water. It was a breathtaking view. Calm. Serene. No wonder the man had chosen it.
Surely a true barbarian wouldn’t be able to appreciate something as refined and beautiful as this view.
It gave her hope.
Moving back to the door, she knocked on it.
No one answered.
“Hello?” she called, knocking louder. “Is anyone there?”
Still no answer.
Undaunted, she tried the door. The latch clicked and it opened easily enough.
Inside she found an even more interesting abode.
The floor was covered with plush rugs and rushes.
The stone walls even held a few tapestries to blot the dampness.
There was a strangely designed fireplace that had a bent flume and chimney to go out the side of the mountain instead of up through the top.
A table and two chairs were set before it.
But the most interesting thing of all was the bed at the rear. Large and lush, it looked as if it belonged in some fine noble’s castle. Not stuck out in the midst of the woods, on top of a mountain.
Ewan MacAllister was a strange man indeed.
And it was then she heard the snarling sound of the beast himself. It was a brief, eerie kind of snort, terrifying and deep.
Her heart stopped, then pounded as she realized it came from the bed. All she could see from her position by the door was a dark lump she assumed was a man.
He was asleep?
It was high afternoon, too early to be abed for the night and too late to be abed from the morning.
A nap perhaps?
Or was he ill?
Please, not sickness. She needed him to be hale and hearty for this venture. A sick barbarian wouldn’t do at all.
“Excuse me?” she asked, stepping nearer the lump. “Lord Ewan, might I have a word with you?”
Only the snore answered her.
Well bother this. Here she’d come all this way expecting to face an ogre and all she got was a sleeping cub. Where was the giant of legend who terrified everyone who spoke his name?
She needed that fearsome beast.
Aye, she needed him.
Stiffening her spine, she approached the bed, then faltered again as she saw him clearly for the first time in the dim light of the cave.
He lay on his side, spread out across the mattress as naked as the day he’d entered the world.
Not once in her life had Nora ever beheld a naked man, but she was quite certain no other man looked so fine and handsome as this one. Especially not while he slept.
And snored.
His long, muscled limbs seemed to go on forever. He was so large in stature and muscle that the bed barely accommodated him and if he were stretched out to his full height, she was certain his arms and legs would be left dangling over the edges.
His black hair was shaggy and ill trimmed, and draped over a face so manly and handsome that it stole her breath to look at him. He held at least a week’s growth of beard on his cheeks.
The rugged, untamed look only made him seem more desirable. Fierce.
His tanned flesh was stretched tight over muscles that were rock hard and well defined.
Aye, this man made her heart race and her body warm.
Before she could stop herself, she realized her gaze was traveling down to the center of his body where...
Her face flamed.
Och now, she couldn’t be having any of this. She was a decent maid. Not some hoyden to be staring at a man’s piece.
Although...
It was an interesting piece. Rather large as it lay nestled in the short, dark curls. It seemed oddly harmless lying there and she had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it.
Eleanor ingen Alexander, where is your mind?
In the sty obviously. Mired with earthly, lust-filled curiosity.
Though she’d never seen a man naked before, she most certainly knew what naked men did to naked women.
Her face burning even more, she quickly grabbed the fur covers on the bed and tossed them over him.
There now, all better.
Well, not all better. There was still the sight of his broad, gleaming shoulders and those long, masculine legs...
Nora!
Oh very well, she’d look no more.
At least not there.
But she couldn’t quite seem to keep her gaze from drifting over him again. There wasn’t really anything wrong with looking at a man’s legs. Was there?
As she contemplated the sinfulness of it, he shifted and the covers took a dangerous tilt.
“We can’t be having any of that,” she said aloud, pulling the cover back over him.
As her fingers accidentally brushed his hard, rippled stomach, one large, powerful hand seized her wrist and held it immobile.
Gasping, she looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes she’d ever beheld. Eyes that were rimmed in red and filled with rage.
“Who the bloody hell are you and what are you doing here?” His voice was deep and threatening and when awake he was as fearsome as the rumors she’d heard.
“I’m...” Her mind went blank as she became aware of the fact that her hand rested on warm skin and over a muscle so hard and taut that it made her ache with a sudden throb.
“Woman, you’d best be answering me.”
The angry accusation of his tone grated against her tolerance. Indignant at it, she jerked her hand away from him and straightened. “And just who are you to be taking that tone with me? Have you no manners at all?”
Ewan blinked in disbelief. She was taking him to task? This woman who had invaded his home and disturbed his nice ale-induced slumber?
Amazed by her audacity, he again blinked his scratchy eyes to clear his blurry vision while his head throbbed a painful staccato beat. With her mouth closed, she was pleasing enough to look at.
Even though she wore a long blue and white brat pulled up over her head, he could see she had thick, golden blond hair that reminded him of sunshine and medium-sized amber eyes that were shaped like a cat’s. They turned up just a hint at the corners.
Impish. That was the only word to describe her fey beauty and yet there was a proud dignity to her that told him she was well-bred and not some country lass come to wreak havoc with him.
But why would such a woman be here in his cave?
Alone.
“Who am I?” he answered her question slowly. “I happen to be the man who owns this place and one who doesn’t take well to unannounced, unknown visitors. Now, given the fact you’ve intruded into my domain, the least you can do is enlighten me as to who you are and why you’re intruding.”
That took some of the bluster out of her. “Well, aye, I did do that. But I’m here for a good reason.”
“It’d better be a damned good reason.”
“Here now,” she said as she actually waved a chastising finger at him, “no need to curse at me. This is already awkward enough what with your being naked and all...”
He arched a brow at her words. He’d forgotten that one piece of this, but since she brought it up, he was instantly aware of the fact nothing but a fur covered him.
“...but that’s no need to be discourteous.”
He snorted at that. “I was born discourteous.”
“So they say, however, discourteous or not, I have need of your services.”
He arched his other brow as a bit of amusement went through him and he taunted her before he could stop himself. “My naked services?”
A high blush rose to her cheeks, making her eyes appear more green than gold. “Most certainly not. I’d much rather have you clothed, but if ‘tis your custom to walk about bare, well then, I suppose to each his own.”
For the first time in years, he was actually amused. She was a cheeky, bold lass. Unlike anyone he’d ever met before.
Of course, he’d never before met an unknown well-born woman while he was naked in his bed.
And somewhere deep inside was the question of whether or not she would be so bold where it counted most...between his fur covers.
His body stirred instantly at the thought. Aye, she was ample enough to be well worth the savoring. Lush hips and breasts. Probably no more than a year or two younger than him, she would make a fine morsel to nibble.
One that would probably last out the night until they were both well sated and spent.
“My lord,” she said firmly like a tutor addressing an errant child. “I am here to procure your services as an escort.”
He frowned at her words. “My what as a who?”
“I need a man to accompany me to England.”
Nay, his mind roared as he remembered all too well what had happened the last time a woman had said those words to him.
That was the last thing he needed said to him today of all days. Most especially out of the mouth of a beautiful blond woman.
She took a step back at his snarl.
“I beg your pardon?” he growled.
She swallowed. “I need a man to take me to my aunt’s home in England.”
It was all Ewan could do to stay in his bed and not tear down the walls.
Surely the Fates were mocking him with this request. How could this happen to one man twice in the same lifetime?
“Why?” he asked.
Unaware of the fury roiling inside him, she cleared her throat. “I am engaged to be wed to a man I cannot stomach and I need you to escort me in safety to my aunt’s home so that I won’t have to marry the toad.”
Ewan cursed foully at that. It echoed off the stone walls around them. “Are you daft?”
“Most definitely not.”
“Then why would you come to me?”
“Because you are the most feared man in Scotland. No one in my father’s clan or my betrothed’s would dare stop you from taking me.”
“Aye, well you can forget all about that happening, love. There’s no power on this earth or beyond that could make me take you to England. Now hie yourself out of here and—”
She stiffened. “I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“Nay,” she said, twisting her hands in the fabric of her brat. “I mean I can’t go back there.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because I’ve already left a note saying that I ran off with you.”