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Then he cursed when another blast of cold air rushed through the room. The flame in the hearth flickered and sparked higher, fed by the draft. He hurried to the window to pull the furs down and then went to Keeley and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the chill.
Her heart beat frantically against his chest, and she trembled from head to toe.
“Come over to the bed so you can wrap up in one of the furs while I build up the fire,” he said gently.
Carefully he tugged her away from his chest and led her to his bed. She sat on the edge, tense and nervous as he tucked one of the furs around her body.
Unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head and smoothed his hand over her long tresses. He wouldn’t taste her lips yet. If he started, he wouldn’t stop and she’d freeze.
His hands trembled while he added logs to the fire. He curled and uncurled his fingers in an attempt to dispel the quiver but to no avail. He was shaken to the core and so afraid of making a wrong move that he was nearly paralyzed.
At last he turned to see Keeley watching him with wide eyes from her perch on the bed. He crossed the room and went down on one knee in front of her.
“Are you sure about this, Keeley?”
She reached up to fan her fingers over his lips. She stroked over his mouth and then down his jaw line. “I want you. I can’t deny you—us—any longer. I know ’tis your destiny to marry into the McDonald clan and become laird and ’tis a noble destiny. I’ll not deter you from that end. I want tonight. One night in your arms so that I can hold the memory tight once you’ve gone from this place.”
He caught her hand and dragged it across his mouth, settling his lips into her palm. He kissed the smooth skin and then tucked each fingertip into his mouth, kissing them in turn.
“I want you too, lass. So much I ache. I want to burn the memory of you in my arms into my mind so that it never leaves me no matter how old I may grow.”
She smiled, her eyes glinting with sadness as she cupped his cheek. “Give me tonight so that we make just such a memory for the both of us.”
“Aye, lass. I’ll love you well.”
When he would have gotten to his feet, she put out a hand and he paused on one knee.
“There is something I would say before we go any further.”
He cocked his head, studying her sudden nervousness and the quick intake of her breath.
He smoothed the hair from her face and tangled his fingers in the long tresses in an effort to soothe the worry creasing her brow. “Speak then.”
She looked briefly away before returning her gaze to his. The beauty of her eyes was dampened by worry and … shame.
“ ’Tis important you know this. I was cast from the McDonald clan. They are my family. I was a McDonald born.”
His brow furrowed with confusion as he grappled with what she’d said. A McDonald? He hadn’t given much thought to where he’d ended up after being injured. The whole time was a blur. His brothers hadn’t mentioned how close they’d been to McDonald land when they’d come to take him home.
And she’d been cast out? Anger pricked at him. He touched her chin to stop the silent quiver and nudged upward until she stared him directly in the eye.
“Why, lass? Why would your own kin turn you out?”
“The laird made improper advances toward me when I was but a young girl, barely on the cusp of womanhood. His wife walked in as he tried to rape me, and she cried me whore. I was turned out for trying to seduce the laird.”
Alaric was momentarily speechless. His hand fell away from her chin as his mind grappled with the implications.
“Sweet Jesu,” he whispered.
His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw as he imagined his sweet Keeley, a much younger Keeley, trying to fend off a much older, stronger man. It made him ill.
It made him furious.
“It wasn’t true,” she said in a fierce whisper.
“Nay!” he denied, his hand flying back to caress her cheek. “Of course it wasn’t. I hope you don’t think I thought so even for a moment. I’m furious that you were treated so unjustly and that you paid the sins of the laird. His job is to protect his clan. To be deserving of the mantle of leadership. To prey on a young girl is a betrayal of all he is foresworn to do.”
She closed her eyes as relief washed in a clear line across her face. Alaric’s heart twinged for what she’d endured. But more than that, he had a strong urge to hie himself to McDonald keep and beat Laird McDonald until he was incapable of ever forcing himself on another woman. To think he’d supped with the man in the McCabe hall. He’d welcomed the man on his land as an ally and as a future father through marriage. His lips curled in disgust and his head ached when he realized there was naught to do. He couldn’t set aside an alliance by making an enemy of McDonald.
It was a damnable position to be in.
Determined not to dwell on things beyond his control, he turned his attention to the one thing he could.
He stroked his palm over Keeley’s silken flesh, his thumb lingering over her full lips and to the slight indention at her chin. His fingers stroked down the slim column of her neck to rest on her chest just above the swell of her br**sts.
He could feel the slight flutter of her pulse, and he heard the swift intake of her breath when he lowered his hand to cup the swell through the thin material of her night dress.
“I wonder if you have any idea of your beauty, lass. Your flesh is soft and as pale as moonlight on the snow. ’Tis unmarred by a single blemish or defect. I could spend forever just touching you.”
