KIDNAPPED BY THE HIGHLAND ROGUE Read online

  He lifted the box and moved it away so there were no impediments between them. He crawled closer, watching her eyes darken as he did. He suspected that her curiosity would get the better of her. Niall also guessed from her narrowed gaze that she had as many questions about him and the others as he did about her. This exchange of boons might work in his favour in so many ways that he smiled.

  ‘Only a rogue would...’

  ‘I never claimed to be otherwise.’

  ‘A gentleman would never...’

  ‘I would never count myself one of those, lass.’ He leaned in closer. ‘So do not harbour hopes that I am anything but what you see before you.’ He held out his hands and motioned around them.

  ‘A thieving ruffian who would take a woman’s virtue without thought or concern!’ Even she looked surprised by the words she’d spoken.

  ‘I would not say there would not be thought or concern if I took yours, Ilysa,’ he said, moving forward until their faces were a scant few inches apart. ‘I would be very thoughtful.’ A becoming blush spread up her cheeks and she stammered something before speaking it clearly.

  ‘Is that the boon you claim?’ she asked.

  A shudder trembled through her, making him realise that fear was taking hold. He lifted his hand and cupped her chin. Sliding his thumb across those tempting lips, he shook his head.

  ‘Nay. Not that,’ he whispered. ‘Only a kiss.’ Surprise flitted over her features for a moment. Then she leaned away from his touch.

  ‘And will you use your tongue to do that...that?’ she asked.

  Niall could not help but chuckle at her naivety. She was so different, so fresh and unaffected than the women he’d known or shared his bed with. At the court, they were connivers, all seeking their own fortune and trampling anyone who stood in their way. They shared their favours with anyone who could benefit their position or standing. As the King’s godson, albeit disinherited, he’d been used as much as he’d used.

  But this one...she could steal a man’s heart with her innocence and he would have to guard his if they were together for long.

  ‘Aye, I will use my tongue,’ he promised. ‘And, as long as you do not move away, I promise that my hands will stay at my side. You, however, may touch me as you wish.’

  ‘I would never do such a thing,’ she said. Then she swore under her breath, in some of the most crude words he’d heard in a while. Another surprise about her he would never have expected—the lass could curse like a common thief.

  Niall did not want to point out the obvious to her—he could have her beneath him so fast that she would not even have the chance to take a breath to scream. Right now though, he wanted her to allow him his way in this. He needed to taste her fully, without interruption and without argument.

  Now.

  As he leaned in, she scrunched her eyes closed tightly and clenched her fists as though she expected something utterly terrible to happen. The challenge made, Niall accepted it and touched his lips to hers.

  He kissed her slowly, rubbing his mouth over hers, coaxing her capitulation. First, he touched their lips together and then he pressed his against her mouth. Her tightly pursed mouth softened after a bit and he smiled against her.

  ‘That’s the way now,’ he urged. Canting his head, he moved in closer and touched his tongue to her lips. Over and over, he outlined the fullness of them, teasing them until she opened to let him in to do...that.

  And he did that, stroking her mouth, tasting her and trying to convince her to participate in this kiss. Her body shifted, but did not move away, so he counted that a battle won. He shifted his own, leaning in until he could feel the heat of her body, never using his hands to hold her.

  Niall felt the sigh against his mouth. A signal louder than the skirl of the pipes, he sought her tongue and stroked it. Once, twice and a third time before she responded in like. He wanted to shout out in victory as she hesitantly slid her tongue along his. His body reacted as though struck by lightning at the innocent’s caress. Hard as rock, his flesh surged as she sucked on his tongue, drawing it into her mouth. When he felt her hands clutch at his tunic, Niall was dumbfounded.

  He’d taunted her with that very action and never dreamed she would touch him of her own choice. His desire for her flared then, nearly overwhelming the control he was exerting over himself...and, most especially, his hands. He thought she would withdraw now and yet she remained there as she’d agreed to. Now it was his turn to pull back from her.

  He eased his tongue from her mouth and kissed her several more times, each one softer than the last, until he released her lips. Their reddened, swollen, well-kissed appearance made him smile. The fact that her hands still held him pleased him more. He’d recognised that she was a canny, bold lass though he’d truly never expected this much from her in spite of his teasing words.

  She would indeed be the death of him. Her with her innocent-temptress ways of looking at him. Now this kiss had shaken him as much as it must have disturbed her. Her eyes drifted open and she caught sight of her hands on his tunic. He could not help but smile, which made her frown in return.

  The kiss done, she jumped to her feet and walked as far from him as she could. His body, the randy bits, wanted him to follow her and to taste her again. Niall knew it was his time to bide, so he needed to put some distance between them. The canvas flap on the cave lifted as the winds swirled once more, giving him the perfect excuse. And the snow would cool the heated blood that even now raced through his veins.

  ‘See to yourself. I have to see to the horses.’

  Niall forced himself out into the cold, wet night, wrapping his cloak tightly around him to keep off the worst of it. Even when his skin cooled as the snow found a way through to it, the rest of him did not. He trudged through the muddy mess of a path down to the cave where the horses were and did check on them. The hardy creatures were huddled close together, bearing up well under the onslaught of the storm from what he could see.

  He strode back up the hill and paused to listen, his head tilted in the direction of the other cave. An occasional voice or laugh told him they were awake within, so he walked on to the smaller cave where she waited. Bending down, he pushed the flap out of his way and entered, praying for the strength to resist the urge within him to have her.

  If he had thought that the kiss they’d shared would ease the need, he had been wrong. So very wrong. And it only took a glance at her to know the danger he faced.

  * * *

  He’d kissed her as she’d seen Brodie kiss Arabella.

  With lust and longing and desire. ’twas the kind of kiss that led to another and another and then on to something else. The kind that ended up with the lord and lady hidden away in their chambers for hours.

  And though Fia would like to proclaim that she had been unmoved by his blatant attempt to seduce her, she would be lying. The feeling of his lips on hers and his tongue tasting her deeply had caused an ache, a swirling, heated ache, deep within her body. One that wanted...wanted more and wanted relief. Even now her hand slid down to the lower part of her belly where it still throbbed deep inside.

  She wanted to laugh at her continued stupidity. Truly she was.

  Fia thought that his promise not to touch her would keep her safe. She thought his promise to use his tongue would be something she could simply ignore and tolerate. Sweet Jesus, why had no one warned her? And damn her weakness, she had touched him when she’d sworn she would not.

  His chest was hard and muscular. Heat poured off his body under her hands and she’d been tempted to slide her hands under his garments to feel his skin. Then, her lips ached from his kisses and she was lost. It was only a kiss, but, oh, what damage it wrought!

  How could she look at him and meet his gaze knowing she’d fallen so badly towards sinning with him? And worse, he’d mocked her with a smug expr
ession in those blue eyes at her vow not to touch him, all the while knowing the truth of his wicked plans. So, she finished her ablutions and wrapped her cloak around her, tightly, leaving nothing exposed for him to see or, God forbid, touch.

  Then, when she heard his approach, Fia tucked herself back against the far wall, gathering her legs up close and wrapping her hands around her knees. He pushed against the flap and entered, surrounded by a blast of frigid, wet wind. She watched him in spite of her bowed head and held her breath when he stopped before her and tossed his cloak aside. Her face flamed even though she did not look up at him.

  Just the memories of his mouth on hers and her allowing such shameful liberties kept her head down. The sigh escaped and echoed across the cave. She heard a short, sharp exhalation sound as he turned away and began sorting through the supplies. He said nothing to her as he pulled this and that from the various sacks and boxes. Soon he’d collected a pile of blankets and another canvas tarp.

  The brigand went about his business without speaking to her. So, she watched his every move without ever speaking to him. Soon, with the canvas to prevent wetness under him, he was ensconced in what looked to be a comfortable, warm, dry pallet. Worse, he stretched out under several layers of wool and put his hands behind his head. For a short while, the only sound within the cave was the storm outside.

  ‘Ah...’ He shifted on to his side and stared at her. The cold stone wall was sticking in her back even as he settled more comfortably in his makeshift bed for the night. ‘I know you can see me, lass. ’twill do you no good to pretend otherwise.’

  ‘I see you,’ she admitted, still not meeting his gaze. It would be filled with smugness and mocking and she cared not to see it.

  ‘There is plenty of room for you here,’ he offered, probably in the same way the devil offered Eve a bite of that apple in the Garden.

  ‘I am fine and well here,’ she said. Unfortunately, when she pushed back against the wall, a sharp part dug into her back more and made her gasp.

  ‘I suspect that the cold and the dampness will seep into your bones and leave you unable to sleep and unable to move on the morrow.’

  ‘Could you burn some peat?’ she asked.

  They’d used braziers to burn logs of peat and keep warm those years ago. The opening high up on the cave’s wall to allow the smoke to escape was probably just plugged up with growth. Then she realised she could not point it out to him without revealing her knowledge.

  ‘So you will let your stubbornness keep you from accepting my offer then?’ he asked, rolling back to lie flat. ‘Dougal has no idea what I saved him from by kidnapping you,’ he boasted.

  His words stung and she blinked against them. She had not thought about how Dougal and her family would react to her experiences since being kidnapped. She knew they would be concerned, her parents heartbroken, but what about the others in Drumlui?

  His taunt only served to remind her of one indisputable fact—whatever had been possible with Dougal before would never be again. Even though Iain was teasing, he’d brought up one terrible facet of being kidnapped—she would be considered ruined by everyone in Drumlui. Unable to make a good marriage now. Possibly unworthy of serving the clan’s lady and tending to her children, too, for she would now be thought of as soiled.

  Mayhap if she explained what had happened and that she’d kept her honour and virtue, Brodie would understand. Arabella would understand. Her family would be pleased by her safe return. But every day, she would face those who’d heard the story and would never believe that men such as Iain Dubh and his ilk had not used her for their pleasure. Her life and reputation were ruined.

  She needed to get away now. She needed to get home. Panic filled her as the need to run grew to an uncontrollable level within her.

  Now. Run. Anywhere.

  Fia jumped to her feet, tangled in her cloak and stumbled her way free. Heading for the opening of the cave, she did not think about what she would need or even where she could go. She just needed to be away from here. As she reached for the flap, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from her feet. Before she could fight him off, he’d swaddled her with her cloak and laid her on the pallet.

  ‘Hush now,’ he whispered softly. ‘I do not know what I said to cause such a reaction, but I apologise for teasing you so.’

  Fia twisted and turned only to find herself held securely in his arms. In his very strong arms against his muscular chest.

  ‘Let me go, I pray you,’ she begged. ‘I must get home now.’

  ‘Even without the storms, you are not going back there now, lass.’

  ‘I have to. I need to tell them. I need them to know...’ He pulled her closer and tucked her head beneath his chin and she fought against the warmth and comfort of it...of him.

  ‘Tell them what?’ he asked.

  ‘I am not ruined. I can marry Dougal. I am not...unworthy.’

  He said nothing, but his body began to rock slightly, back and forth, taking her with it. His strong hands rubbed the length of her back, up and down, slowly. Without words, he’d acknowledged the truth of her situation—whether or not she succumbed to their wicked pleasures, Fia Mackintosh was well and truly ruined and her life would never be the same again.

  She tried to struggle against his hold and against the truth, but each time, he simply held her tighter until she ceased. Then he would rub her back, warming her and soothing her. As she felt the pull of sleep on her weary body and broken spirit, Fia refused to believe that this could be the way her life changed. And worse was the realisation that in attaining her childish, ignorant desires and getting the things she’d only dreamt of, she would have to lose everything and everyone that was important to her.

  There had to be a way out of this for her that did not destroy her life and her family. There had to be.

  As she drifted to sleep, even the sounds of the storm seemed to mock her naive stupidity.

  * * *

  ‘What do you need?’ Brodie Mackintosh asked him.

  Standing in the privacy of the lady’s solar with only a few of the chieftain’s closest kin and advisors, Alan Cameron knew that Brodie understood the situation about Fia. Alan’s cousin Arabella seemed to be avoiding the stark truth of it all.

  ‘A few supplies,’ Alan said, shrugging. When he went tracking, he lived mostly on what he could find to eat. But some oats and dried meat would be helpful. His flask needed to be filled and a skin of ale, but otherwise he would travel light in order to travel fast.

  ‘Do you want someone to accompany you?’ Rob Mackintosh asked now. The man in command of Chattan Confederation warriors did not like to stand back while others acted.

  ‘Nay, Rob,’ Alan said, shaking his head. ‘I work best alone.’ Rob stared grimly at Brodie, clearly not happy over this decision of his chieftain’s.

  ‘Brodie, I still think we should send more men out,’ Rob said. ‘Even Alan cannot cover all the lands around here.’

  ‘Nay, Rob,’ Brodie said. ‘For now, I do not wish to draw more attention to this than is necessary.’ More attention, especially others looking in at the clan’s business, meant more problems and more pressure to take one action or another. Brodie, as usual, did not want his hand forced in this.

  And the fewer people who knew about Fia’s kidnapping, the better. The ones involved had already beaten several others and killed the old man in the last attack, from what Brodie had revealed to him. What the lass’s condition would be, no one could guess. If she yet lived, they might have done any number of things to her. While he could, Brodie was trying to protect her reputation while determining if he could save her life.

  ‘Get her back, Alan. Send word to me if you need anything or anyone,’ Brodie said. Rob nodded and stepped back, accepting his choice of action.

  ‘Aye, Brodie.’ Alan nodded and then turned to
face Arabella.

  All those years ago, he’d been the one to track her down when she’d been kidnapped. It was then that Alan had met Fia, a young girl living among the outlawed men and women of the Clan Mackintosh. And then that he’d saved Brodie from execution by The Cameron, his uncle.

  ‘I will find her, Bella,’ he said. ‘I promise.’

  ‘No matter what, Alan, bring her home. Bring her home to us and her parents.’ Her words spoken so softly nearly broke his heart.

  With a nod at the Mackintosh, Alan left the chamber and rode to the village to use the last hours of light to gather what traces and clues he could. She’d been taken nearly five days ago from the centre of a busy village, so it would make tracking them almost impossible.

  As he crouched down, studying some tracks left in the mud at the edge of the village, he knew they had split into smaller groups and ridden off in several directions. He looked out into the distance, deciding which path he should follow first.

  If he was trying to throw off someone following him, he would use the rivers and streams to lose them. There were still markings of three horses heading towards the stream to the west. Three horses, three men, matched the description given by two who’d witnessed Fia being taken. Standing now, he walked to the very edge of the fields, listening to the winds.

  They would all meet up in one place. There had been no sign of them ahead of the attack which came at nightfall. To the east and south were the lands of not only the Mackintoshes but also The Camerons. To the west and the north lay the mountains and then the coast. Not many hospitable places in those directions...except...

  Could they have found or had knowledge of the hideaway Brodie had used years ago to keep his family safe? He’d lived in exile for months, avoiding his cousin’s and Alan’s own family’s attempts to capture and kill him for his role in the death of The Cameron’s heir. It was high enough in the mountains to make a great refuge and was defensible by even a small number of men.

  Had they taken Fia there?