“Nay,” Seona whispered. “You need to hear this, too.”
Frowning, Rebbie remained inside and pulled the stall door almost closed.
“What is it?” Keegan asked her.
Her face heating, she drew in a deep breath and stared into Keegan’s concerned eyes. “My father ordered me to slip into Laird Rebbinglen’s bedchamber tonight. He wants to force us to marry. We have to do something to stop him.”
“Saints,” Keegan hissed.
“God’s wounds. That conniving bastard,” Rebbie blurted. “Begging your pardon, m’lady.”
“Nay, you are right,” Seona said.
Rebbie’s dark brows quirked. “Well, I believe ’tis time for me to move to the barracks with the MacKay guards.”
“Aye. Good idea,” Keegan said.
Seona nodded. “I like it, but Father will suspect I’ve told you both.”
“I shall come up with a story about how I was gambling and drinking with the MacKay men and I passed out for the night in the barracks.” Rebbie shrugged.
“Very well,” Seona said. “That should work.” Still, her father was likely to assume she’d gotten word to him about it. But ’twas the only solution she could think of. If Rebbie stayed in the keep, her father might even drag her to the man’s chamber in the middle of the night and toss her into the bed with him. When her father was desperate to get what he wanted, he might do anything.
“I’ll wait out here and guard the door.” Rebbie exited and pushed the door closed.
“I cannot believe how vicious and manipulative your father is,” Keegan said, drawing her into the most concealed corner.
“Aye, he takes the prize on that. I have missed you,” she rushed to say, trying to absorb several of the things she loved about him at once—his entrancing blue eyes, his warm and charming smile, his commanding height and broad shoulders.
“I’m certain I’ve missed you more.” Keegan leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.
She slid her arms around his neck, burying her hands in his damp hair, and hung on for dear life, while his hands at her waist drew her closer. She relished each of the heated kisses he indulged her with and the way his tongue teased hers. His masculine taste and scent made her crave more of him instantly. She yearned to rip the wool and linen from his body, wanting him as bare as he’d been that evening he’d bathed in the loch.
Instead of divesting him of his clothes, she pressed her body as close to his as possible, delighting in each hard plane and ridge of muscle.
“Mmm. Seona.” He ran his hands beneath her hips and lifted her.
Lightheadedness near overcame her as he consumed her mouth with his wicked kisses. She was shocked to realize she’d immediately wrapped her legs around his hips. Leaning into her, hepressed her against the stone wall. Through their clothing, his hard shaft rubbed against an especially sensitive spot, stimulating her even more.
“Oh, Keegan,” she breathed, longing for the feel of his hot skin against hers. How she ached deep inside for him to complete their union and make her his woman. “Please.” Oh, saints! She could just imagine how wondrous he would feel.
He lavished her mouth with more sinful and beguiling kisses, making her delirious. Feverish need near overpowered her.
“I shouldn’t have brought you back here,” he said against her lips, breathing hard, his tone passionate. “I’m going to steal you away.”
“What? Nay,” she whispered, shaking her head. Icy fear sliced through her desire. “My father would send his men to hunt us down and…” Nay, she did not want to say the horrible words.
“And what?” Keegan set her to her feet, ire glinting in his eyes.
She grasped the plaid that crossed his chest. “He will order his men to kill you, Keegan. You’ve seen how vile and cruel he is.”
The muscle of his jaw flexed. “So, what are you going to do? Marry that Wentworth codpiece?”
“Nay.” The very thought sickened her. “I know not. I am trapped.”
Keegan stepped away and paced, his actions agitated. “I asked your father for your hand in marriage and he refused.”
“He told me.” Her heart ached for him, and for herself. “I’m sorry if he was rude to you.”
