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‘Yes, I flatter myself that I do. I rescued you in the woods and provided safe escort home.’
‘Rescued me!’ Ailsa sputtered, ‘I was quite capable of looking after myself.’
‘As you were arse deep in mud when I encountered you, appearances would seem to suggest otherwise.’
‘I was fine until you startled my horse and I didn’t need your so-called gallantry…or your vulgar propositions.’
‘I apologise for that. I was not aware that I was addressing Laird MacLeod’s daughter.’
‘No but as I appeared to you a mere servant girl you thought it your right to force yourself on me.’
He leaned toward her, his handsome face inches from hers and the look in his black eyes made her knees soften and her breath come tight in her throat. ‘Not unless you wanted me to,’ he whispered. ‘Now I’ve promised to keep your little secret from your family as I am sure they would not approve of you running about the area unprotected.’ He moved closer to her trapping her in the corner of the battlements which had been her sanctuary. ‘You made me a promise and instead, you reject me. A man less sure of himself might take offence at that but I am prepared to forgive you. Come back to the hall. All I ask for my silence is that you let me have that dance.’
‘Let you have your own way. Let you take what you want.’
‘Aye, and when I set my mind to something I get it. I have resolved on having you dance with me so you may as well give in and do as I say.’
Ailsa, gathering her courage, decided attack was the best form of defence. ‘Look here, I don’t like you and the insolent way you look at me. You are coarse and vulgar and you have no right to tell me what to do. I don’t like your arrogance and conceit and the way you obviously expect every woman you meet to fall at your feet and faint with longing every time you honour her with your attention. I have absolutely no wish to dance with you and Inever shall.’
‘Then why were your eyes seeking me out all night? Don’t lie and tell me I am wrong for we both know it’s true.’
He was right. She had been staring at him all night and not just because she was trying to avoid him. Mortified by the truth of this, Ailsa rushed past him to go but he grabbed her arm firmly and pulled her back. His grip was like iron and though she twisted and turned she could not free herself.
‘Calm down lass.’
‘How dare you. Let go of me. You may have spent the morning pawing me but you are not permitted to do it here,’ she said breathlessly.
Ailsa stared up at his face, inches from hers, realising she was in danger though whether it was from him or her own feelings she knew not which. He was devastatingly handsome and in the moonlight, his eyes looked black as pitch. The shadows cast by the flickering torches hardened the planes of his face and gave him a predatory look as if the devil himself had hold of her. Ailsa could just make out a thick scar on his top lip which somehow enhanced the beauty of his full sensuous mouth. She couldn’t take her gaze from it as she ceased her struggles and softened in his arms.
Duncan knew he should let her go but he couldn’t. There was some kind of a connection between them and he was sure she felt it too. He had felt the dark stirrings of jealousy as he had watched her flirt in the hall and he hadn’t liked it one bit.
And by God was she something to behold with the sheen of her lovely hair falling against creamy breasts as they swelled against the bodice of her dress, a full mouth begging to be kissed and stunning eyes alight with indignation. He ached, he burned, desire for her ate away at his sense of honour. Duncan tried to control himself as he hardened under his kilt and then, mistaking her fixation on his mouth for an invitation, he pulled her quickly towards him and brought his lips to hers. Kissing her was like burying his face in flowers and for a moment he was lost in the velvet smoothness of her warm lips, the delicacy of the gentle curve of her waist almost completely enclosed in his hands, and the utter sweetness of her.
Trapped in his unwelcome embrace Ailsa was overwhelmed by his hands and mouth on her. She had never been kissed and shocked by the alarming sensations it was arousing in her and because she was unsure of what to do she let him hold her in his embrace for a moment. He felt hard and unyielding as if his body were made of stone.
Despite his size and strength, his kiss was surprisingly gentle, his mouth warm, moist and insistent as it slid over hers. She tasted whisky and smelled wood smoke in his hair and something else, an earthy, warm maleness. Feeling a rising need and a sort of reckless curiosity she found herself clinging to him and almost without thinking pressed her mouth softly back against his. He responded by deepening his kiss, his tongue gently invading her mouth. Ailsa felt a quickening feeling between her legs and clutched at his shoulders greedily. He moaned with pleasure and buried one hand in her hair, drawing her closer to him with the other. He was kissing her hungrily now and she responded by clinging to him, all caution lost.
Ailsa was jolted out of her surrender by a hardness pressing up against her and suddenly she realised what she was doing was wrong and wanton and sinful. She was horrified by such obvious proof of his male arousal and by the betrayal of her own body.
Duncan had lost himself in the moment so much so that he didn’t realise she was rejecting him until he was pushed away and treated to another ringing slap across the face with far more force than he could have imagined from such a small thing. His frustrated desire got the better of him as he took a step towards her.
‘You need to stop doing that or next time I’ll slap you back,’ he threatened in a voice of quiet fury.
‘Get off me you brute. How dare you touch me.’
‘You seemed to enjoy it lass and you certainly invited it with your behaviour in the hall tonight. Better me than some other young buck who wouldn’t have stopped for a slap. You kissed me back and a damned good job of it you did too.’ Though he had to admit she had a point. He hadn’t exactly behaved like a gentleman and he should not have forced himself on her. Need had overcome discretion and Ailsa was, after all, the daughter of his host.
She was looking down at her shoes now, turning her face away. Thick dark eyelashes and downcast eyes gave a show of modesty but Duncan was good at reading people and was pretty sure she used them to get what she wanted. There had been fire in that kiss and she had wanted it as much as he, of that he was sure.
She found her voice. ‘You are an ignorant barbarian and no gentleman,’ she said bitterly.
“I’ll own I’m a barbarian but not ignorant, not about women at any rate and I know a shameless flirt when I see one. You think you can dangle your beauty in front of a man and then reject him when he takes the bait. Lead a man on and he will follow lass … and he will expect a prize at the end of the chase.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You know full well what I mean. You have spent all evening throwing your charms at the feet of every man in that hall. It’s common knowledge that you are angling for a husband.’
‘I amnot.’
