Chapter 14
The more he thought about it, the more avoiding dinner seemed to be a good idea. What would he have done, anyway? Picked at his food while trying not to stare at Daphne?
No, he’d done well to steer clear. Magnus had mentioned that they all took dinner together as normal in the dining room, and nobody seemed to notice that he wasn’t there.
That stung a little. Of course, it was good to know that his mother was finally spending time with her friend. Lady Pilbury seemed to be a good woman, and maybe the Highland air really was doing her some good.
But shouldn’t Daphne and Willow have remarked on his absence?
Daenae think too hard about it, he thought grimly, turning onto his side.
The rest of the keep would have gone to sleep by now. He could tell, almost as if he had his ear to the castle’s heartbeat. Once dinner was done, the servants would have cleaned up and retired to their rooms.
And yet he was still awake. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he just couldn’t fall asleep.
The problem wasn’t his bed. He usually had no trouble falling asleep, since he rolled into bed long after the castle had gone to sleep, so exhausted that he was asleep before his head touched the pillow.
Not tonight.
After a moment, he rolled back onto his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
It was her. She was the reason he couldn’t sleep.
I thought I’d put Daphne behind me.
Oh, and he’d tried. It was sensible to avoid encounters like that, considering his vow. So, there weren’t many memories to compete with Daphne’s. And even those he could remember paled into insignificance.
What was it about her that drove him wild? He couldn’t get her out of his mind. That was his fault, wasn’t it? She just wanted to live her life and take care of her daughter.
Me daughter. Our daughter.
He sat upright, running a hand over his face.
Me daughter. I have a child. What am I going to do?
When he closed his eyes, he could still see Willow’s bright, excited face smiling up at him.
He was already thinking of the swords he would commission for her.
Maybe a nice knife set. A fine set of bow and arrows, if she turned out to have a knack for archery.
And why shouldn’t she? He bet she’d have a real knack for combat.
A warrior, he thought with a smile.
Sliding out of bed, he stretched his arms above his head, his spine cracking as he did so. He usually slept in as few clothes as possible, and cool night air goosepimpled his skin. He wandered over to the window, yawning.
Movement caught his eye. At first, he thought he’d imagined it. Leaning forward, he narrowed his eyes.
A small figure was trotting across the courtyard, the glimmer of a lantern in her hand.
Daphne. Now, where is she going at this time of night?
There was only one way to find out.
Daphne paused in the little doorway, the one that Elspeth had told her led outside. It wasn’t unguarded.
A sleepy-looking sentry was leaning against the wall, smothering a yawn.
“Ye want to go out?” he enquired, eyeing her nightdress and robe with obvious disapproval.
“Am… Am I allowed?” she managed weakly.
The sentry nodded. “The main gate is closed after dark, but people can come in and out through here as they please. It’ll be locked after ye, but ye can knock to get back in. Assuming ye ken what ye are doing, of course.”
She flinched. “What do ye mean?”
The sentry grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. “It’s dangerous outside the keep at night, ye ken. Especially for a woman alone. Wild animals out there, ye ken. And wild men, too.”
For a moment, Daphne considered going back inside. But then what? Lie back down, unable to sleep, thinking of him all the time?
“I need some fresh air,” she said firmly.
The sentry smothered a belch. “There’s air within the keep walls.”
Daphne sighed. “Are ye going to let me out or nae?”
For a moment, it seemed that the sentry wouldn’t let her out. Then he sighed, rolling his eyes, and unlatched the door. She slipped out into the dark, her lantern casting a weak yellowish light.
There was a path leading away from the door, the sort of path that had been worn away by countless feet over the years. The woods pressed in closely around, the earth smelling of wet grass and turned earth.
She knew more or less where she was going, though. She’d seen it on the carriage ride here.
Sure enough, the path wound through the trees for a little while longer, then opened up onto the shores of a shimmering, iridescent loch. The moonlight shone down onto the shifting water, turning it silver. In the background, the hills rose up high.
She remembered following the road up and down those steep hills, the carriage shuddering underneath them. She didn’t think she’d ever been as sick as she was through that endless journey.
But that didn’t matter now. None of it did.
Carefully setting her lantern down on a flat rock, she advanced down the shaley shore toward the waterline. It was probably too cold for a swim, and in any case, she didn’t much feel like slopping all the way back up to that little doorway, soaking wet, for that sentry to laugh at her.
Besides, it was probably dangerous to swim in the dark. Alone.
Still, she pulled off her boots and left them beside the lantern, before picking her way across the pebbles. She moved close enough for the water to lap over her feet, cool and silky.
Breathing in, she closed her eyes, letting the murmur of the water wash over her.
I did the right thing by coming here. I ken that I did.
Suddenly, the pebbles crunched behind her. She froze, her eyes shooting open.
“Before ye start to panic and do something foolish like leaping into the loch, let me assure ye that it’s just me,” came a low, faintly amused voice.
She spun around, nearly losing her balance and splashing backward into the water.
“Hunter,” she gasped. “What are ye doing here?”
He stood back in the shadows, the breeze blowing his kilt around him. He wore a loose shirt beneath, with no cloak or coat over it.
“I could ask ye the same,” he drawled, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Odd time for a wee walk.”
“Well, I couldnae go during the daylight hours. Willow wanted to play. God kens I spend little enough time with her as it is. Go on, then. Tell me what an awful mother I am, sneaking out and leaving me wee lass sleeping alone in our room.”
He took a step toward her. “Daenae snap at me, lass. I’m nae going to say anything of the sort.
I only wanted to tell ye that this used to be me favorite spot, once upon a time.
And this time of day is good. It’s beautiful in the moonlight, but sunset is better.
I prefer sunrise, because ye get to watch a new day start. It’s beautiful.”
Daphne bit her lip, feeling a rush of guilt. “I didnae mean to presume.”
“Daenae worry, lass, I take nay offence. Come, sit.”
He moved forward, carefully moving the lantern and her boots from the flat rock, and sat on the edge, leaving a spot for her to sit. Tentatively, she inched toward him, pebbles sticking to her wet feet.
“Ye daenae come here anymore?” she queried.
He shook his head. “No time. Running a keep is busy work, to say nothing of managing the clan itself. I actually daenae ken if many people ken about this spot. The loch is popular, of course, but folks mostly follow the main path out of the keep and take the east road, which takes them to the opposite side. It’s good for swimming, but ye daenae get the same view of the hills. ”
Daphne gingerly lowered herself onto the rock beside him. There wasn’t a lot of room, so their hips and shoulders pressed together.
Almost at once, she thought that she’d made a mistake. She could feel him, a sensation running through her like a live thing, tingling and taking her breath away.
He made no move to lean toward her or do anything except look out at the loch. She stole a quick look at him, the moonlight illuminating his profile.
“Did ye miss Scotland?” he asked abruptly, not looking at her. “While ye were away, I mean.”
“Aye,” Daphne answered at once, not needing to take time to think. “I missed it a lot. England is beautiful in its own way. Very green, very mild. But I missed the Highlands more than I could have ever imagined. I… I’m glad to be back.”
He turned to face her. She could feel his eyes on her.
“Is that all ye missed?” he whispered.
Her stomach tightened, a thrum of desire pooling there.
“There were other things,” she murmured.
It seemed dangerous, very dangerous, to meet his eyes at that moment.
It wasn’t working. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she turned to face him.
His eyes glinted in the moonlight. A slow smile spread across his face, making them crinkle.
He shifted his weight, lifting his hand. Fingertips slid across her cheek, and she let her eyes flutter shut.
“Daphne, look at me.”
She opened her eyes, almost with effort, and met his gaze.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered.
“Is it nae always?”
Maybe, given a moment or two, she would have found the strength to either respond or pull away. But before she could do either, he leaned forward.
She was sure he was going to kiss her. Her eyes had already fluttered shut in anticipation, almost helplessly.
Instead, his lips pressed against the side of her throat, right where her pulse thrummed under her skin.
I ken about yer vow, she wanted to say. I ken ye cannae wed or have children. Well, ye can avoid marriage, but there’s nae much that can be done about Willow.
She said none of that. Instead, she let out a desperate sigh, sliding her arm around his shoulders to anchor herself.
“I have dreamed of ye, lass,” he murmured, his lips grazing her skin. “Did ye ken that? I see ye in me dreams. If ye are there and I cannae reach ye, it’s a nightmare.”
“Daenae,” she heard herself say. She couldn’t remember choosing to say it, but the words were out, so she must have. “Hunter, daenae.”
“Daenae what?”
He shifted, his lips pressing against the front of her throat. She swallowed involuntarily and knew he must have felt it. Next, his lips landed on her cheek in a delicate peck.
Nae enough.
Nay, nay, it must be enough. It’s too much. This is a bad idea.
“Ye have only to tell me to stop, lass,” he murmured, his voice a scratchy growl deep in his throat. “Just one word, that’s all it takes.”
He pulled back, and she opened her eyes, almost whining at the loss of his warmth. He lifted his eyebrows, waiting.
She couldn’t have spoken if she’d tried.
“That’s what I thought,” he growled.
Pulling her against him, he kissed her, a rough press of lips and the light graze of teeth.
Daphne had the vague sensation of being swept away by a river and pulled down by a strong undercurrent.
She clutched at his shoulders, steadying herself as best she could, and opened her mouth to the slide of his tongue.
The heat was too much, much too much, bubbling under her skin until she thought she might melt.
“Tell me, then,” she demanded hoarsely when they pulled apart to breathe, “about yer dreams.”
“Me dreams?” His hand grazed her knee, red-hot.
She flinched, shivering. “Yer dreams of me.”
He kissed her again, and her thoughts blurred into nothing. She was aware of his hand twisting in her skirt, tugging the wet hem of her nightgown up and up until it was rucked around her thighs and he could put his warm palm on her bare knee.
Oh, it felt good.
“I dream that ye are running away from me,” Hunter murmured, his stubble scratching her neck. “I’m always chasing ye, running as fast as I can, but I cannae quite catch ye. It was a relief earlier today to catch ye so easily.”
His fingertips traced up her thighs, and she bit back a moan. There was no telling how far a sound like that would travel from here beside the loch.
That thought felt like cold water being poured over her.
But the feeling didn’t last. Hunter’s forearm pressed against her thigh, just the tiniest nudge, and yet it was as loud as a command.
She let her legs open, just enough to let him trace patterns up her inner thigh. He kissed her again, one strong arm winding around her back to keep her upright. If it wasn’t for his strong body, she would have collapsed bonelessly onto the rough shale.
The tip of his finger slowly stroked her folds, where she was wet and hot and so, so sensitive. She shivered, her muscles tightening.
“I remember that ye liked that,” Hunter breathed, kissing her deeply enough to steal her breath.
He stroked her again, a slow, languid movement, entirely unhurried. Sharp spasms of pleasure rocked through her, and she found herself gyrating her hips, longing to press against him, hoping against hope that he’d move quicker, that he would—
Oh.
He slipped one finger inside her, his thumb pressing against her bud, and the pleasure intensified, powerful enough to make her dig her fingers into his shoulders.
“There we are, lass,” he chuckled, rubbing his stubbled cheek against her neck once more.
“The dream,” she gasped. “Do ye ever catch me?”
“Oh, sometimes. Those are the good dreams. I catch ye, and then I bloody well wake up, do I nae?”
She let out a strangled laugh, and he began to stroke her faster, ripples of pleasure overlapping and intensifying.
“And… And the bad ones?” she stammered.
Her climax was so close she could feel the shocks already running through her limbs, tantalizingly blissful.
“Ye escape me,” he breathed, and she felt the blunt press of teeth against her neck. “I’ll nae let ye escape this time.”
Her climax came crashing down on her, powerful enough to make her cry out, closing her eyes and digging her fingers harder into his muscular shoulders. The noise echoed, bouncing across the loch and back toward them.
I daenae think I’d escape even if I could.