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By then, her stabs had taken him to the deepest hell of famishment. Unable to have a clear mind, he grabbed her hand.
And the deepest hell became the highest celestial revel. Bad. Too bad. Silky. Smooth. Warm skin. Perfect to saunter over certain parts. Of him. The sensitive parts. Shameful parts.
Shameless need!
Since blood fled to unmentionable confines, there was none in his head to coax clear thought. That said, he pulled her to him. Bodies clashed.
Her eyes flared, her skin flushed. Tongue darted out to moisten those full lips, just to complete the torture. Worsened by her aniseed perfume mixed with woman.
Heavy breaths mingling, their stares combated.
“You will fit whatever role is required of you.” Guttural, too guttural, an order.
/> Her head reached only his shoulder, but her chin notched higher to meet his gaze, haughtier than a queen. “Is that so?” Tart, oh so tart. “It involves certain procedures.”
Procedures which excluded him. That acid feeling overflowed, and he came close, so close, to doing something wild, age-old. Regretful.
Delicious.
Like tasting her strawberry lips.
Damnation!
The most ragged, painful step backwards of his life: this one. The second most painful act: letting her hand go. With an inadmissible sense of loss.
No words would ever pass through his constricted throat. The sole option, to turn and leave. Fuming and silent. And burning with depthless crave.
Frantic paces, hand over her mouth, Aileen’s thoughts whirled. He could have kissed her. Could have caressed her. Ravished her. And she would have let him.
She had wanted him to do it.
So breathless, she almost panted, every single nerve wired. Something sizzled inside her incomplete, unfinished. Demanding. What it was she did not need to learn, just to get rid of—immediately.
The door threw open with a pull and she fled the enclosed place which still held his earthen scent, too disturbing. Too tempting.
CHAPTER FOUR
It had been some days Aileen sat in the garden on a strategic bench to observe the comings and goings of the manor. Carts entered and exited in constant traffic, to pick up or deliver supplies.
Sam often accompanied her, which helped as an excuse for her to be outside, attention alert on the gates.
The time had come.
Her brothers thought she visited with her aunt. Her aunt did not expect her, for Aileen sent no word. Nobody would help her out of this. She relied on her own resources.
Before dawn next morning, she dressed warm clothes and armed herself with the dagger she put in her stocking that first day and hidden afterwards. A cloak, pin money and food kept from breakfasts to go with, freedom beckoned.
The shadows for cover, she tiptoed to the patio to spot the miller’s cart delivering the flour. No one milling around at such a time, with careful movements, she sneaked under the cart’s canvas and waited. In question of minutes, the cart jerked into motion and hope smiled. Had she known it might be so easy, she would have done it on the second day.
Alertness on high, she conjectured she would have to gauge the stops and jump out and hide before jumping in again and continuing her trip far from the troglodyte. As it was, the cart never stopped, maybe for being empty. It rode for several hours. Peeks through the canvas told her they headed south. Just as she needed, the McKendrick’s manor nearer Inverness as the McDougal’s, sat northwards.
New peeks showed the mill yards ahead, delineated by sunset. It meant the miller would stop soon. So, she must get off her ride. Head covered with the cloak’s hood, she set her walking boots on the dusty road, southwards, expecting to find an inn that could offer any transport on the side.
~.~.~
Taran perceived how tired he became as soon as he prepared for dinner. The near-harvest fields demanded his attention from sunrise and he did not take a break even for luncheon. A rumble in the stomach’s vicinity told of his need for nourishment.
In the dining room, only Sam occupied the long table. The place set for that woman still vacated. Her absence gnawed, transforming the place in a frosty ensemble.
