nd yet here we both stand, unable to sleep. Why is that, Keeley?” he asked softly. “Are we going to continue to deny what it is we both want?”

“Nay.”

He went still. So still that the room went deathly quiet and only the howl of the wind could be heard. Cold rushed through the room, blanketing it in frigid layers. Keeley shivered and gathered her arms around her. She looked so vulnerable that every instinct in him cried out to protect her from harm. To cherish her and lavish on her all the patience and understanding he had in him.

Then he cursed when another blast of cold air rushed through the room. The flame in the hearth flickered and sparked higher, fed by the draft. He hurried to the window to pull the furs down and then went to Keeley and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the chill.

Her heart beat frantically against his chest, and she trembled from head to toe.

“Come over to the bed so you can wrap up in one of the furs while I build up the fire,” he said gently.

Carefully he tugged her away from his chest and led her to his bed. She sat on the edge, tense and nervous as he tucked one of the furs around her body.

Unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head and smoothed his hand over her long tresses. He wouldn’t taste her lips yet. If he started, he wouldn’t stop and she’d freeze.

His hands trembled while he added logs to the fire. He curled and uncurled his fingers in an attempt to dispel the quiver but to no avail. He was shaken to the core and so afraid of making a wrong move that he was nearly paralyzed.

At last he turned to see Keeley watching him with wide eyes from her perch on the bed. He crossed the room and went down on one knee in front of her.

“Are you sure about this, Keeley?”

She reached up to fan her fingers over his lips. She stroked over his mouth and then down his jaw line. “I want you. I can’t deny you—us—any longer. I know ’tis your destiny to marry into the McDonald clan and become laird and ’tis a noble destiny. I’ll not deter you from that end. I want tonight. One night in your arms so that I can hold the memory tight once you’ve gone from this place.”

He caught her hand and dragged it across his mouth, settling his lips into her palm. He kissed the smooth skin and then tucked each fingertip into his mouth, kissing them in turn.

“I want you too, lass. So much I ache. I want to burn the memory of you in my arms into my mind so that it never leaves me no matter how old I may grow.”

She smiled, her eyes glinting with sadness as she cupped his cheek. “Give me tonight so that we make just such a memory for the both of us.”

“Aye, lass. I’ll love you well.”

When he would have gotten to his feet, she put out a hand and he paused on one knee.

“There is something I would say before we go any further.”

He cocked his head, studying her sudden nervousness and the quick intake of her breath.

He smoothed the hair from her face and tangled his fingers in the long tresses in an effort to soothe the worry creasing her brow. “Speak then.”

She looked briefly away before returning her gaze to his. The beauty of her eyes was dampened by worry and … shame.

“ ’Tis important you know this. I was cast from the McDonald clan. They are my family. I was a McDonald born.”

His brow furrowed with confusion as he grappled with what she’d said. A McDonald? He hadn’t given much thought to where he’d ended up after being injured. The whole time was a blur. His brothers hadn’t mentioned how close they’d been to McDonald land when they’d come to take him home.

And she’d been cast out? Anger pricked at him. He touched her chin to stop the silent quiver and nudged upward until she stared him directly in the eye.

“Why, lass? Why would your own kin turn you out?”

“The laird made improper advances toward me when I was but a young girl, barely on the cusp of womanhood. His wife walked in as he tried to rape me, and she cried me whore. I was turned out for trying to seduce the laird.”

Alaric was momentarily speechless. His hand fell away from her chin as his mind grappled with the implications.

“Sweet Jesu,” he whispered.

His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw as he imagined his sweet Keeley, a much younger Keeley, trying to fend off a much older, stronger man. It made him ill.

It made him furious.

“It wasn’t true,” she said in a fierce whisper.

“Nay!” he denied, his hand flying back to caress her cheek. “Of course it wasn’t. I hope you don’t think I thought so even for a moment. I’m furious that you were treated so unjustly and that you paid the sins of the laird. His job is to protect his clan. To be deserving of the mantle of leadership. To prey on a young girl is a betrayal of all he is foresworn to do.”

She closed her eyes as relief washed in a clear line across her face. Alaric’s heart twinged for what she’d endured. But more than that, he had a strong urge to hie himself to McDonald keep and beat Laird McDonald until he was incapable of ever forcing himself on another woman. To think he’d supped with the man in the McCabe hall. He’d welcomed the man on his land as an ally and as a future father through marriage. His lips curled in disgust and his head ached when he realized there was naught to do. He couldn’t set aside an alliance by making an enemy of McDonald.

It was a damnable position to be in.

Determined not to dwell on things beyond his control, he turned his attention to the one thing he could.

He stroked his palm over Keeley’s silken flesh, his thumb lingering over her full lips and to the slight indention at her chin. His fingers stroked down the slim column of her neck to rest on her chest just above the swell of her br**sts.

He could feel the slight flutter of her pulse, and he heard the swift intake of her breath when he lowered his hand to cup the swell through the thin material of her night dress.

“I wonder if you have any idea of your beauty, lass. Your flesh is soft and as pale as moonlight on the snow. ’Tis unmarred by a single blemish or defect. I could spend forever just touching you.”

She sighed and moved closer, filling his palm with her warmth. Her nipple tightened against his thumb and he brushed over the tip, bringing it to a hardened bud.

Their mouths hovered precariously close. His gaze slid over her face, meeting the piercing beauty of her eyes just as he touched her lips with his.

It was a shock. Like kissing the moon and being illuminated by a thousand silver rays. Desire snaked down his spine and spread through his limbs until they were laden.

He licked over her mouth and delved between her lips to the sweetness inside. Hot and damp and so sinful that it sent shivers of intense desire quaking over his body.

She was breathing hard, little huffs blowing over his face as she pulled away, her eyes glazed with tiny little sparks of green and gold that reminded him of the highlands in the spring.

“ ’Tis the truth I’ve never lain with another man. No one has ever touched me as you have.”

Her admission awoke a primitive, possessive urge deep inside him. At the same time he was filled with tenderness and the desire to make this night one she’d never forget.

“I’ll be gentle, love. I swear it.”

She smiled and cupped his face in her hands as she drew him close. “I know you will, warrior.”

He pulled her into his arms, trapping her against his chest. She smelled sweet and delicate, so much female flesh, soft and supple. He nuzzled against her neck, inhaling her scent and marking her with his teeth. Gentle nips, she shivered with each one.

“Aye, you taste sweet, lass. The sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

He felt her smile against his temple.

“And you have honeyed lips, warrior. The sweetest I’ve ever heard.”

“ ’Tis not pretty words in which to woo you. ’Tis the truth as I’ve never spoken it.”

She looped her arms around his neck and melted into him with a sigh. “I like the kissing part very much, but something tells me there’s a whole lot more to the matter of loving.”

He smiled and brushed his lips across her brow. “Aye, you are right there. ’Tis much more and I plan to show you in great detail.”

Her lips found his again, this time at her instigation. Her breathy sigh spilled into his mouth and he swallowed her breath, taking her deep into his chest.

He allowed her to take the direction of the kiss, allowed her to take as much as she would from him.

Always before, a quick tup had been to his liking. He took lasses to his bed who enjoyed a fast, playful romp. But here and now, he wanted to savor every moment. He wanted it to last forever. He’d take his time and show her the delights of the flesh—and the heart.

Rising before her, he lowered her onto the bed and pressed his palms into the mattress on either side of her head. Her hair spread out over the sheets like a silken mass. The strands glowed like spun gold in the light from the fire. He ran his fingertips over the glints of color and the varying shades intermixed in the thick pelt of her hair.

She stared up at him, her eyes aglow with trust. It humbled him that she offered him what she’d never granted another man. That she had such faith in him staggered him.

She stretched and twisted beneath him before raising her arms invitingly. Gently he gathered her hands, kissed her knuckles and then lowered them back down to her belly. He slid his hands up her arms, caught her sleeves and slowly pulled them over her shoulders, baring the creamy flesh.

Unable to resist such a temptation, he bent down and kissed the top of her shoulder and teased a line to the curve of her neck. Chill bumps broke out over her skin and danced beneath his lips. He chuckled softly when he took the lobe of her ear between his teeth and she shuddered violently.

“You have a wicked mouth, warrior.”

“I’ve only just begun.”

He pulled at her dress until it hung precariously over the tips of her br**sts. He held his breath, and his body tightened like the string of a bow. His c*ck swelled and pushed hard against his trews, straining to be set free and find her sweetness.

He cursed under his breath and clenched his jaw in a frantic effort to maintain control. For several long seconds, his chest heaved as he breathed in and out.

“Is something wrong?”

He yanked his gaze down to see the worry in her eyes and he kissed her, long and leisurely, to chase the fears away. “Nay, lass. Nothing is wrong at all. Everything is right. Just right.”

He left her mouth, nipping lightly at her chin on his way back to her chest. He paused just above the valley of her br**sts and then nuzzled into the hollow, taking the hem of her bodice over the tips.

Her dress gathered at her waist and he stared down at the pebbled n**ples, a delectable pink, so taut that they beckoned his mouth—an urge he was powerless to fight.

He licked one bud and she cried out, her voice hoarse and thin. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh.

She bowed underneath him when he found her other nipple and sucked it strongly into his mouth.

She was so taut, straining upward, her fingers dug so tight that she looked to be near pain. When he loosened his hold on her breast, she whimpered and stirred restlessly beneath him.

“Shh, lass, ’tis just beginning. Be at ease. Let me love you.”

He moved back until his feet were once again on the floor. He pulled at her dress until it came away, leaving her bare to his gaze.

He swallowed. In all his life, he’d never seen a lass more beautiful. Her skin glowed in the firelight. Creamy and smooth with nary an imperfection. She was perfectly fashioned, her h*ps rounded, her waist narrow, and generous br**sts to fill a man’s hand and mouth.

Her belly was flat with a tiny, shallow indention at her navel that he was dying to run his tongue around.

His gaze drifted lower to the small patch of curls nestled at the apex of her legs, guarding her innocence and the sweetness found within.

He hadn’t thought it possible to grow harder than he already was. His c*ck strained against his trews until the very feel of the material drove him mad.

He didn’t want to frighten her, but if he didn’t shed his clothing soon, he was going to claw it from his flesh.

“Lie there while I undress,” he said in a low voice.

Her eyes widened as his fingers fumbled with the laces of his trews. Then he peeled the material away and his c*ck sprang free. The relief was so acute that he nearly went to his knees right then and there.

He yanked at his tunic and sent it sailing across the room. When he returned his gaze to Keeley, he saw that her gaze was fixed on his groin. He wasn’t sure whether she was appalled or curious. Her expression was a strange mixture of both.

He stepped between her thighs, and her hands rose automatically as if to ward him off.

He caught her wrists and held them as his thumbs caressed the soft pads of hers.

“ ’Tis nothing to be afraid of, Keeley. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be as gentle as a newborn lamb.”

And if it killed him, he wouldn’t break his word.