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  Where is Gregor?

  He promised protection. As if hearing her silent plea, Ranald drew her down into his lap.

  “Gregor and the others left for the day’s hunt, lass. I begged off to change me drawers for something warmer.”

  “Aye, there be a nip in the air.” Her voice held steady. A calm front would keep him dissatisfied. Maybe if she showed little interest, or fear, he might release her without harm.

  “We were interrupted last night. I believe this morning might prove to be less chilly with ye in me bed.”

  “Why tempt such a skinny wench whose deflowering will bring ye a death sentence?” a voice asked from across the room.

  Ranald pushed Brianna off his lap and sprung to his feet. Both he and Brianna stared at Nia. Her lips curled into a seductive smile as she sauntered toward them. Slow steps, and a swing of her generous hips and bosom, grabbed Ranald’s lusty attention.

  “What mean ye by these words? This wench can no’ be untouched still. And who would kill for her?”

  “The first I know because I know her.” When Brianna kept silent, Nia continued. “And Gregor will no’ let any man touch his seer. To do so would mean the end of her visions as well as the end of his power over men such as ye.”

  Ranald gave Brianna an inquisitive glare before he backed away. “A seer? I heard rumors ye were a dabbler in witchery.”

  “Nay, I am no witch, but I am a seer and only for Gregor,” Brianna explained as she watched him back away. “The sight does no’ come to me often, but has ne’er come in any man’s presence but my laird’s.”

  The lie easily flew from her mouth even as she remembered visions in Draco’s cave.

  “How did ye come by this power? Yer parents?”

  She grimaced and lowered her gaze before answering the brute. “I do no’ know.”

  “Brianna was a foundling,” Nia explained. “She landed on the laird’s doorstep when about five years of age. Some hunters found her in a glen beside a dead pony.”

  Pain from the foggy memory made Brianna cringe. Had her vision of golden ribbons laced through a Highland pony’s mane actually been a memory?

  A tear slid down one cheek, and she hastily wiped it away. Inhaling a deep breath of stale air, she nodded submissively to the couple, and padded toward the kitchen. She sensed, more than witnessed, Nia amble closer to Ranald. Brianna turned her head a bit and glimpsed the brute’s arms reach for the other woman.

  She left them to their privacy, since Nia seemed eager for his affections. Nia’s actions were a mystery to Brianna. How could a woman be enticed by a man who pawed and licked another? She would never condone such treatment.

  Her thoughts faded away. The warmth of Draco’s hands and the moist, sweet taste of his lips on her lips, throat, and breasts erupted in a sweet memory. Brianna twirled a loose lock of her hair between her fingers, a habit she had no cause to stop. Had she welcomed his touch? Or, had she merely endured his advances until she found a way to escape his little cave?

  “No matter. I shall no’ see him again.”

  “Who?”

  Brianna whipped around as Cook toddled in from outside. Water skins dragged both shoulders down.

  “Let me help. Ye should have asked me to fetch the water.”

  “Aye, ye be right on that note. I did no’ realize how long the path to the stream lay, and how little strength I have these days.”

  “Are ye unwell?”

  “Nay, just getting on in years. Now, answer my question. Who shall ye no longer see?”

  “Ranald. He accosted me last night.” Brianna sighed. A heated blush flooded her cheeks. “And just now.”

  “That beast. How fare ye after two encounters?”

  “Our laird saved me last eve and Nia just now.”

  Cook nodded as she bent to scoop flour into a bowl, while Brianna dumped the used trenchers outside, near the washbowl.

  She slipped back inside the tent and wondered how Cook found the stream in the dark before sunrise. The woman surprised her at every turn.

  “Nia has ne’er met a man she does no’ like. But, if no one can come to yer aid in the future, remember this. A good, swift kick to his privates will drop a man to his knees in no time flat.”

  Both women broke out in gay laughter. Giggling eased the tension. Feeling more than fine, she slipped outside.

  “I have nae owned a reason to laugh in years.” She inhaled the crisp morning air and tasted the salt of the sea on her tongue. The dirty dishes would have to wait since she left most in the great tent. She dare not intrude on Nia and Ranald.

  She shuddered.

  Clasping both arms around her chest, she fought to remove the image of bodies grinding together. Revulsion toward such a man came as no surprise. Gregor warned her many times to keep her body chaste. She agreed to hold fast until his death released her from such an accord.

  A memory sprang forth, and she tightened both arms in a viselike grip; Draco’s mouth on hers as it molded to her lips; the taste of his tongue as it delved inside to taste hers in a most intimate manner. She recalled the feel of his rising erection as he ground his body against her hips and belly.

  “I must no’ think of such things. What we did in his cave ‘twas wrong. I know this to be true. I shall ne’er again allow a man to treat me in such a manner.”

  No matter how much I enjoy it.

  As the sun peeked above the horizon, she kicked a pebble into a low bush. The air filled with a rainbow of colors as dozens of butterflies took to the sky, their lives rudely interrupted by her carelessness. She twirled another lock of hair as she laughed out loud.

  “Now there is a sight.”

  Brianna swung around to empty space. The voice reminded her of Draco’s soft, deep tone from the cavern. Panic and desire warred inside her chest.

  “Show yer face, ye beast,” Brianna demanded. Might a gaze into his eyes, in the light of day, quench her lustful thoughts?

  “As ye wish, dear lady.” He appeared behind her. His arm shot out to steady her. “I spoke of the woman standing before me, of course. No woman has ever filled me with both dreams of better times and of regret. Until ye.”

  He released her, and then circled like a beast on the prowl. She stood frozen. She barely noticed the skittering of small birds in nearby underbrush. Her heartbeat drummed inside her head and thumped beneath her bodice. The babbling rhythm of the waterfall soon faded as she struggled to listen to his voice.

  Is he charming me? Has he cast a spell like some witch?

  “I am no witch, and do no’ refer to my simple power as having anything to do with the likes of such vermin!”

  Brianna stepped back. Anger darkened his eyes. His brow furrowed beneath rows of worry lines. Both fists rested on his hips, and his face reflected some inner war. When he strode toward her, she backed away.

  “Do no’ touch me, sir. I will no’ endure another man’s hands upon me this day.”

  Her words appeared to shake him from his mood. His fists relaxed, and his eyes glanced toward the rock-strewn earth of the path. He sighed. “I meant no harm. I will ne’er touch ye without yer consent. Ye mean too much to me.”

  His voice, a whisper, near broke her heart. As morning light streamed through his shiny, black hair, she also sighed.

  How beautiful.

  He retreated toward the cliff edge, and the natural staircase. Without thinking about her actions, she hurried after him.

  Something about this man tugged at her heart. She wanted the whole story. Why did he live on an uninhabited island inside a damp, musty cave? More urgently, why did she yearn for his embrace once more?

  As if reading her thoughts, again, he stopped and allowed her to join him. Together, they made their way down the rough rocks to the beach. High tide had receded, leaving the sand damp and strew with broken bits of shell. Brianna removed her slippers and laid them on the bottom step. He waited then linked her forearm with his.

  In silence, they walked along. Her
heart raced with the knowledge he might kiss her once more. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. All too soon the image of Ranald and his hands and mouth upon her filled her thoughts. She groaned.

  Nay. Draco groaned, no’ me.

  Draco stopped and she slid to a stop beside him, her feet slipping on the pebble-strewn beach. Had he read her memory of this morning’s encounter with Ranald?

  He stared at her for a moment. When his onyx gaze lowered, Brianna’s breasts heated, feeling too large for her simple frock. She tugged on her shift, pulling it upward several inches.

  He smiled. Moisture seeped from between her legs. Brianna’s stomach tumbled end over end with a dizzying sense of euphoria. A sensible young woman, she realized she should not think such thoughts. The sudden images of bodies, entwined, were indecent and wrong.

  “Why might natural desires toward each other be wrong? I want ye. Do ye want me?”

  Pausing at the entrance to the cave, a warm breeze teased her hair. She reached up to pull it from her face. Her fingers trembled as she twirled a lock of stray hair. His eyes locked on her movements.

  A sharp squeak escaped her lips when he threw her flat on her back. He covered her and the heat of his body enflamed her whole being with unbridled passion. Sharp fingernails slid up her thigh as he lowered his mouth into the crook of her neck. His tongue swept along her quivering flesh.

  He growled as he continued his attention to her heated skin with hands, lips, and tongue. Her body reacted, arching into his chest and hips. His swollen manhood pressed against her thigh. Though she had never lain with a man, she was no stranger to aroused bodies. A number of her unwelcome visions had shown couples in lust-filled embraces. These were the visions she kept secret from Gregor.

  She sighed when his fingers slipped lower. He stroked the curve of her calf, brushing damp sand from her tingling skin. With a flip of his wrist, he tossed the hem of her frock up and off her thighs. When Draco massaged her muscles, working his way to her knee, she squeezed both eyes tightly shut.

  She squirmed. Curiosity made her peek. He smiled down at her with his eyes nearly shut, and then dipped his head once more. He kissed a point beneath her left ear. A current of energy shot through her entire body. A breeze off the breakers buffeted the molten skin between her legs. Calloused fingers traveled the wind’s sensuous path. His touch slid over the curls between her legs. The skin at her most intimate juncture burned as hot as her cheeks.

  When his other hand squeezed a breast, rapture flooded her body, numbed her mind, and left her paralyzed with pleasurable sensations. When his finger slipped inside her slick passage, she shrieked. Pleasure mingled with a sudden sense of cautious clarity.

  “Please, sir. Do no’ dishonor me in such a way.”

  His quiet murmurs soothed her as she gazed deep into his eyes. Brianna inhaled a sharp breath at the flames dancing in their centers. Fear threatened to undo her, yet curiosity enticed her to press her fingers against his lips, forcing them apart. He growled.

  “Ah, I see. Ye are a beast.” The calm strength behind her words must have taken him aback, for he loosened his grip on her breast.

  “I am more, I am less. I am cursed, yet I feel blessed at this moment. Lay with me and soothe my pain, and I shall do my best to pleasure ye.”

  Brianna nodded. The realization she possessed no control over her actions proved the man had cast a spell. He bent lower and kissed her with a tenderness she never hoped to share with a man. Any man.

  Certainly no Ranald.

  “Who is this Ranald? I plan to kill him, so tell me where to find him or I shall feel compelled to remove the head of every man on this island to make sure I have laid him low.”

  She laughed. “Ranald is a pig, though I doubt he tastes as fine. Gregor, Cook, and Nia pledged to look out for me. He shall no’ be a problem.”

  Her words seemed to sway him because he returned his lovely mouth to hers and continued his satisfying assault with fingers, lips, and tongue.

  CHAPTER 9

  Draco tasted of salt and the sea, causing a laugh to bubble up from between her bruised lips.

  “What, pray tell, have I done to amuse ye?”

  “Ranald smells of blood and dung and tastes of ale. Ye smell—and taste—delicious.” She pulled his head back down and drank him in. The soft cries of seabirds mingled with the gentle boom of breaking waves. The salty breeze swept over her and cooled the heat rising from her body.

  His fingers thrust inside her secret place repeatedly. Passion rose and she nearly swooned. When his gentle touch disappeared, she groaned her displeasure. He chuckled.

  “What is so funny, sir?” Her words came out weak and breathy.

  “I plan to taste ye as well.”

  “Ye have already accomplished this, sir. My lips still tingle. Have ye forgotten so soon?” His response, another low chuckle, caused her brow to furrow, and when he dropped kisses on the tight fabric of her frock, just below her breasts, she nearly asked the man why he headed in the wrong direction. When he placed a kiss on the meager piece of thin chemise covering the sensitive juncture of her thighs, she froze.

  “Relax, sweet one. Accept my offering and enjoy the moment. Ye will thank me, when the task is complete.”

  The man spoke in riddles. She almost forgot about the fingers that earlier breached her intimate sheath. Those fingers returned to their cherished ministrations. She closed her eyes, relaxed her thighs, and let him spread her wide.

  I trust him. He will no’ harm me, this I know.

  “Ye honor me, sweet lass.”

  Did the man answer my thoughts once again?

  Brianna had never met another person with such a gift. Though hers differed, the knowledge another gifted person roamed this earth brought a sense of calm. He breeched this calmness the moment he shimmied between her splayed thighs and pressed his mouth to her curls.

  “Draco! Nay!”

  She pushed herself up onto her elbows and met his eyes over her crumpled gown and feminine mound. His eyelids closed to half-slits before his tongue lashed out and licked the sensitive flesh hidden under her mound’s curls.

  She barely stifled a scream.

  “Hush, or we shall invite company to our private party.”

  Unable to voice her objections, she shook her head. He ignored her silent pleas. As she watched, he delved lower until all she spied were waves of jet-black hair.

  Brianna sank back onto the sand. Never mind the pebble grinding into her left buttock. Never mind that anyone could walk by and find him between her splayed legs. Never mind the exquisite pleasure spreading across her entire being as he lapped and licked her secret spot.

  “Draco?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  His answer made her pause. Shaking off his words, she continued, “Something is no’ right. Heat and pressure build.”

  “Come for me, love. Lie back and let the sensations make ye soar. Ye shall thank me, I promise, and ye shall remain intact.”

  As if his words lent her body permission, the pressure built anew. Her thighs trembled and her womb clenched. She felt everything. Each broken shell’s pinch, each whisper of the salty breeze, each and every stroke of his fingers, every pleasurable lick and kiss.

  With a keening sigh, her body broke into a million tiny pieces of heavenly light, and she finally knew how it felt to fly.

  ***

  “Where be Brianna?” Gregor boomed.

  Cook jumped and a platter of kale and cabbage hit the ground with a dull thud. She bent to pick it up, but he grasped her arm. “Donella, I asked ye a question.”

  “How free ye be with me given name.”

  “I meant no dishonor, woman.”

  “Do no’ throw yer weight around with me, Gregor Macleod. I am no’ afraid of a man such as ye. Besides, if ye were the great laird ye purport to be, the poor lass would no’ be accosted at every turn.”

  “Explain yer words.”

  “Ranald Maclean best keep off her i
n my sight or he shall find hisself missing bodily parts, ‘tis all.”

  “Nonsense, good woman. I talked to the man myself just last night. He swore no’ to bother the lass.”

  “He grabbed her again this morning. Nia saved Brianna’s virtue, is what I be telling ye. How could ye fall for his lies?” She paused and glared at his fist around her forearm.

  Brianna walked into the kitchen. Without intending, she heard their conversation.

  “What is going on here?” she demanded. Her gaze flitted between the two.

  “Nothing to trouble ye. Where have ye been?”

  “For a walk. The cliffs are so beautiful. The view of the sea enthralled me, and I forgot the time. Did ye need me, sir?”

  “Aye. Something has been spooking the game. Matthew swears he saw a winged water horse, no’ that I believe the man. He does drink as much as—”

  “As a certain MacLean we all know?” added Cook. Her sinister smirk made Gregor stare at the floor a moment before he turned back to Brianna.

  “Did Ranald do ye harm once more, lass?”

  “He frightened me, ‘tis all. I did no’ get the chance to introduce him to me knee before Nia gained his undivided attention.”

  “I shall reward the lass, but she must no’ assume I brought her only to share men’s beds.”

  “She likes it well enough, so the subject is moot,” Cook added.

  “Get back to work, both of ye. And Brianna,” he added, “I want ye to visualize where we might find game on the morrow.”

  “I shall try, but ‘tis been a distressing day.”

  “Understood. I will keep a watchful eye on Ranald after dinner. When ye are done serving, go for a moonlit walk and see what can be seen.”

  “I do no’ summon my visions like geese, my laird.”

  “I know, child. Try? Please?”

  When he turned to go, she got to work. Brianna prayed what had passed between her and Draco did not deprive her of her abilities as Gregor warned might occur. Draco promised he had in no way breeched her maidenhead.