Page 4 of Deception of a Highlander

She tilted her face toward him, and the light spilling from inside the palace caressed the smoothness of her skin. “Would you have remembered me?”

Her wide mouth curved into a coquettish smile. Almond-shaped eyes the color of heather gazed up at him from beneath a veil of thick, black lashes. He did not have to glance down to know her breasts swelled enticingly above her gown or how her bodice hugged her slender waist. He had noted those features earlier. No, Mariel was not the kind of woman any man would miss.

He grunted in response and turned his attention to the garden below. He didn’t have the patience for flirtation, not when this unwanted trip to London had been such a waste of his time. Subtle questions had rendered far too little information and thus far, no one had seen Hampton at court. Kieran ground his teeth against the angst of his frustration.

She shifted closer, and the smooth fabric of her skirts brushed his naked calves. He turned his attention to her and found her wide gaze fixed on him, her expression earnest.

“I’m afraid I’ve upset you. This was not how I wanted my introduction to be.” Her brow furrowed. “Perhaps we might start over?”

Before he could respond, she offered her hand and gave him a brilliant smile that would have felled the most stoic of men. “I’m Mariel Brandon.”

Though he felt ridiculous, he played along with the charade. He inclined his head in her direction. “Kieran MacDonald, laird to the MacDonald clan.”

The back of her hand was white as cream against the darkness of night. He glanced around to the neighboring balconies. If Alec saw him acting like some frilly courtier, he would never live it down. Her tiny hand all but disappeared in his grasp as he placed a kiss above her knuckles. Her skin was warm silk beneath his lips, her delicate rose scent enticing. His gaze shifted to her mouth. Without a doubt, he knew her lips would be soft and sweet and hot.

Mariel’s hand lingered in his as he straightened. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “You’re from Scotland, correct?”

“Is it so obvious I’m no English?” He teased.

She gave an exaggerated stare that dragged from his chest up to his face. “Quite. I assure you, no Englishman was ever so tall as you.” Color rose in her cheeks, and she pressed her hand against the side of his arm. “Nor so strong.”

Kieran had never been one to fall prey to flattery, yet he felt warm at Mariel’s words.

Tempting though it was, he was not fool enough to think she was wholly interested in him alone. Beautiful women flirted when they wanted something, and clearly, this one wanted to go to Scotland. He eyed her warily. “Ye said ye want to accompany me back to Scotland. Why?”

The playful grin melted from her lips. “I have no ties to keep me here.” Her gaze dropped to the garden below. “Everything I held dear is lost to me, and everyone I love is either gone or out of reach. I have no friends and no one to care for me or about me. Not anymore.” The sadness he’d seen before burned deep in her luminous stare. “Going to Scotland will allow me a freedom I can never have here a chance to start over.”

“Ye can go anywhere in England to do that. Why Scotland?”

She leaned closer to him, her mouth softening and her gaze pleading. “I am in danger if I stay in England,” she whispered.

The lass’s head barely came to his chest. What kind of danger could she possibly be in? He took in her wide-eyed desperation and furrowed brow.

“Please,” she said gently. “I’m not safe anywhere in England.”

“What is it ye’ve done to bring on such danger?” He held his hands at his side, fighting the urge to reach out to her.

Her fingers pinched one another, and she inhaled what seemed to be a pained breath. “I owe a man more money than I could pay, and he’s ruthless in his pursuit to collect what is owed.” Her head lowered as she glanced down at the ground. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you that, but there’s something about you.” She met his gaze once more. “Something I trust.”

Her smile was apologetic and suddenly shy. As if proving his point, Mariel waved her hand in the air, and the shy smile became too broad and bright to be heartfelt.

“Enough of me. Tell me of Scotland. I’ve heard no other beauty compares to the Highlands.” A wistful note tinged her words.

“Aye,” he said. “It’s verra lovely. What ye see depends on where ye are. Skye, where I live, is on the coast, and there are deep blue seas lined with jagged cliffs. The wind blows so fiercely that the waterfalls on those cliffs flow upward and rise to the heavens.” He looked down at her and winked. “Ye’d probably blow away.”

“Skye,” she repeated. “Even the name is beautiful. Like one could spread their wings and fly into the crystal blue nothing.”

She drew an invisible pattern on his forearm with her slender finger. The movement was subtle and surprisingly intimate. No longer did his thoughts linger on the beauty of his homeland. Instead, he found his gaze fixed on her parted lips. He wanted to feel her full mouth beneath his and her slender body against him.

His finger rose of its own volition and stroked the hollow of her cheek. She tilted her face up toward his.

“Take me with you,” she whispered.

“What would ye do on Skye?” His voice was deep with desire.

She rested her hand on his chest, her fingers burning his flesh through the layers of cloth. “I could be your mistress.”

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