Page 12 of Highlander’s Vengeful Seduction

Her blood rushing to her face, dizzying her and making her flush every time that she saw Donal had nothing to do with her reluctance to find love in another man, of course, or at least that was what Vanora told herself. From the first moment she had seen him three days prior, when he had stumbled into the castle once more after all those years, Vanora could barely sleep or eat. Her treacherous heart beat hard and fast whenever he was around.

Dancing with him had almost been unbearable. A part of her thought that her own heart would give out, much like Ronald’s, from the way it frantically thrummed in her chest. They had been so close, close enough that if Vanora had leaned only a little closer, their lips would have met.

And yet, no matter how much she wanted to kiss him ever since she saw him again, she despised the way that Donal kissed her. It had been so abrupt, so thoughtless, that she would have much rather it had never happened.

Since that night, Vanora wondered what drove Donal to kiss her like that, and the only conclusion that she could come to was that he was simply too drunk after a night of pouring cup after cup of wine down his throat. He would have kissed anyone who came into his path, and that was what bothered her the most.

She had never been special for Donal—while for her, he had been her entire world.

Avoiding him turned out to be more difficult than she had originally thought, though, as she often stumbled upon him and had to turn around and flee immediately. Now, she was tiptoeing out of her chambers, carefully making her way down the hallway so that she could leave the castle, and before she knew it, Donal was right there.

There was no avoiding him; he had spotted her and was coming straight at her, freezing her on the spot.

Vanora watched as Donal rushed to her, almost sprinting towards her direction. “Vanora!” he said, cheeks flushed and breath coming out ragged from something other than exhaustion. “I have been looking for ye all over! Where have ye been?”

Vanora hesitated. She didn’t know whether she should tell Donal the truth, or if the truth would only make matters worse. In the end, she realized that it wasn’t her fault in the first place. Donal was the one who had suddenly kissed her.

“I…I dinnae ken what tae tell ye, Donal,” she said. “The truth is, I dinnae want tae see ye, I dinnae want to talk to ye. Not after what happened.”

Donal didn’t meet Vanora’s gaze, looking at the floor instead. “Yer right. The way I acted…weel, it wis despicable. I never meant tae hurt ye or disrespect ye, but ye ken me; ah’m no clever man. It’s no excuse, but I dinnae ken what else tae say other than that I am deeply sorry for what I did. If ye never wish tae see me again, I’ll understand. I’ll leave Castle Sween, even if ye so wish.”

To say that Vanora was not expecting such an apology was an understatement. Donal had always been a good man, but he could also be inconsiderate, and hearing those words from him were like a balm to her heart.

Vanora reached for Donal, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I dinnae want ye to leave,” she assured him. “The truth is that when ye came here, when I first saw ye, even after all these years, all I wanted to do was tae kiss ye. I didnae think it was something that you wanted, of course, because…well, ye ken why. But when ye left after telling me all those horrible things, I vowed tae myself that I widnae let ye hurt me again. I dinnae deserve a drunken kiss in the dark, Donal. I deserve more than that.”

Donal could do nothing other than nod along in agreement. “Aye…I have treated ye verra poorly, both the noo and in the past. I have regretted the words that I spoke tae ye that day every day since then. I was a fool, a lad who didnae ken any better, and I am sorry.”

Even though it had been six years ever since Donal had broken her heart, his apology healed something inside Vanora. She knew that she would never be whole again; the devastating rejection of her first infatuation broke a small part of her that would never trust anyone again. Yet, there were also parts of her ready to love once more…perhaps the man would be none other than Donal.

Vanora couldn’t help but lean in, then, and kiss him. It was on her own terms that time, and she wrapped her arms around Donal’s neck, just as he grabbed her waist and pulled her close to him. Their bodies pressed tightly against each other, and Vanora could feel every hard line of muscle under Donal’s clothes, rigid, strong, and unmoveable.

His breath was hot against her lips, and she shuddered as Donal kissed her fiercely, parting her lips with his tongue. There was a tingle running down her spine and settling deep in her belly, making her feel feverish.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Donal pulled back, eyes wide and lips red from where Vanora had nibbled on them.

In a moment, he was gone. He practically ran away from her, retreating down the hallway and, presumably, back to his own chambers.

Vanora stood there, once again frozen in her spot. She could not comprehend what had just happened. It felt like another rejection, another stab in the back from the very same man who had hurt her in the past.

He had been the reason why Vanora had guarded herself and her feelings so carefully, and now, after making her trust him again, he had betrayed that trust once more. She was a fool for thinking that she could ever trust any man, let alone the same man she had made the mistake of trusting before. She had been so swept up in her own fantasy of herself and Donal together, of getting a sweet reunion, that she did not even see that there could never really be a happy ending.

Some people were simply not that lucky. Despite all the men who adored the idea of her, Vanora was certain that no man would ever love her.

She, too, headed back to her chambers, suddenly losing any desire to go outside the castle grounds. She didn’t want to see people, and she definitely didn’t want to have to plaster a smile on her face, just so that no one would ask her what was wrong.

When she opened the door to her room, Vanora found Vika there, lounging on her bed as though she belonged there. Vanora closed the door and threw herself on the bed next to her sister, uncaring of the mess she made of her clothes as the bunched up under her back.

“Ye look chipper.”

Vika’s sarcasm was often entertaining, but Vanora couldn’t find it in herself to put up with such comments at that moment.

“I dinnae wish tae hear any of yer usual remarks the noo, Vika, so please keep them tae yerself,” Vanora said. She laid an arm over her face, shielding her eyes from the sunrays that drenched the room in light.

Vika propped herself up on one arm, looking down at her sister, where she lay next to her. “What’s the matter? Tis Donal again?”

“Aye,” Vanora all but moaned, grabbing a pillow to cover her face even more. Vika was younger than her, but sometimes she made her feel as though she were the bairn between the two of them. “I dinnae ken what he wants. I dinnae ken anything. He is the most confusing, infuriating, galling man in the world.”

“Ye havnae met all the men in the world,” Vika pointed out. “I, for one, think that Lachie Flachnan is the most confusing, infuriating, galling man in the world. Have ye spoken tae him for more than a minute? He could talk a deaf man to death.”