"When I told ye’ to go, ye’ were supposed to listen. What is so hard to understand about that?" He dismounted, dragging her with him. When he stood in front of her, the water from the creek trickling beside them, he finally had a clear look at her. He was livid. Furious. The rush of emotion from the battle was slowly fading away.

Kane wanted to wring her fragile neck. The urge to wrap his hands around her throat and shake sense into her was nearly overwhelming, but he managed to restrain himself.

Barely. Just barely.

Large, blue eyes looked up at his. They weren't filled with tears like he'd expected.

What he saw was so much worse.

Shame. She was ashamed. Not terrified and weeping like weak, tiny women should, but ashamed.

Kane had a feeling that it wasn't because of her failing to follow orders. It was because he had snapped at her. He knew it as surely as he knew the blade of his claymore. His chest tightened.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, lowering her head. Her shoulders curled into a defensive slouch. He wanted to roar. She had to be traumatized by the event in some way, and he was only making it worse.

He came toward her, holding out his hand. "Lass," he said lowly, hating his burst of anger. He'd failed to protect her. She had been vulnerable, and he hadn't been there to save her. She should be the furious one, not he.

Though, if she had listened to him...

The fury returned with a vengeance. It nearly robbed him of breath. A simple order, and the lass couldn't have listened to him. It would have saved her, and none of this would have happened. She could have left. He could have killed the MacLeods, and she wouldn't have had to harm a man.

A man who she'd left alive.

A man who would, most likely, seek revenge.

"I couldn't leave you," she said. Her eyes raised to his, and the fire there only fueled his own. "How could you ask me to do that? They would have killed you! I could have helped!"

He roared with laughter. "Ye'? Ye' could have helped me? Lass, yer a waif. Ye' couldn't lift a dagger if it would save yer life."

Her eyes snapped with fire. "I remember quite clearly taking your own dagger from you. I also remember quite clearly when I had to use it against that man. Do not say that I couldn't have helped you." She threw the said dagger on the ground.

"If ye'd have listened to me, this wouldn't be a problem. Ye' should have ran when I said to."

"I did!" she said furiously, slapping her hands onto her hips.

"But no' the second time," he growled, taking an involuntary step forward. She met him step for step, hands fisted at her sides. He wanted to be confused and shocked by the outburst. But one: he was too angry with the unreasonable lass, and two: he should have expected it. She'd already shown him how high her flames could jump when he tested them.

To think that she'd remain docile under a chastising would be absurd. Still, something felt wrong. Her reaction, the immediate shame she'd seemed to feel... It felt wrong. Like it was an automatic reaction, imbedded into her being. What could make a woman like that?

There was more to Alice than a pretty face, and he wanted to know what it was.

"I was trying to help you. Ye'd just turn away an extra hand?"

"Alice, yer a lady. Ye' donna fight, and I sure as hell willna let you. If ye'd have just left when I told you to, both times, without hesitating or disobeying me, I could have taken care o' the threat—instead, I let it get right to ye'. Alice, that bastard, he almost..."

Her gaze softened.

"But he didn't."

"And that made ye' have to stab him. Yer a lady," he repeated, dragging a hand through his hair. "A lady does no' fight with a man, Alice. I'm to protect ye'. That is how it is. I say jump, and ye’ jump. I say run, and ye’ run. If ye’d listened, it wouldn’t have escalated so far.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please—you saw perfectly well that I can protect myself.”

“Aye, with a wee dagger, after he had ye’ on the ground and was choking ye’.” The words were like acid coming out of his mouth. He pressed his lips, shaking his head. “We’ll no’ be discussing this. ‘Tis over and yer safe.”

“Because I saved myself,” she said proudly, crossing her arms over her chest. He growled, taking another step towards her. She didn’t move an inch. The only thing that happened was a quirk to her full, pink lips, and her thin brow rose.

He growled, acting before he could think about it. She wasn’t ready. They were both fighting for control of the situation, but damn her, she was beautiful. One moment, they were squaring off. The next, his arm was wrapping around her waist, his hand sliding into the back of her hair, and her lips were against his.

* * *

Saeran froze.

Her breath, her heart, her body. All of her concentration centered on the pair of lips that were moving over hers with smooth strokes.

She'd never been kissed.

She'd never seen anyone kiss, either. Her parents had kept it away from her, and while at court, she'd hid in the library and studied. She'd avoided it religiously.

There was no way for her to avoid this, though. It was happening to her. His hand was at the back of her head, his thumb holding her jaw, urging it open. She wanted to hate what was happening, but she couldn’t. The longer he held her there, his mouth on hers, the more she started to relax. Gradually, kiss by kiss, her body began to melt against his.

As if he was asking permission, he slid his tongue along her lower lip.

"Kiss me, lass," he grated against her mouth. The deep desire she heard in his commanding words was enough to melt the rest of her resistance. With a little sigh, she opened fully for him. Moving her hands from his chest to his shoulders, she clutched his large body to hers.

He groaned and the sound sent a shiver through her. His hands slid around her back and down, until he could hold her hips tightly against his, letting her feel the hard length of his body. Stars swam in her vision, lungs seizing.

His tongue probed her mouth. Confusion and desire rose at the same time. She didn't know what to do, but that was fine. He dominated her with his kiss, robbed her of control, sense, and propriety. He was attacking her mouth with the ferocity he'd used against the MacLeods, but the underlying tenderness, the passion, made it all the more delicious.

"There ye' go," he growled, pulling away from her slightly. A sound left her lips, one of desperation. How could he pull away from her like—

Saeran didn't have to continue her anguished mental rant. Kane slid an arm under her knees and one around her back. She didn't have time to protest before he was setting her on a section of wooden fencing. He moved between her legs, dipping his head to her neck. Her eyes shot wide as his mouth opened against her neck. Heat pooled in her stomach.

"What...what are you doing to me?" she asked, voice airy, shocked.

"Kissing ye'. Do ye' no' like it, lass?" he asked, chuckling against her neck. Her pulse pounded, and she was sure he could feel it. When he brushed his lips against it, she knew her suspicion had been confirmed. A shudder went through her.

"I...my lord, this is wrong..." She forgot why, but she knew it was. He kissed her again, lightly nipping the flesh above her racing pulse. He grunted, sliding his hand from around her back to her waist, traveling dangerously close to her breasts. She instinctively pulled away from him.

Saeran forgot that she was balanced on a fence, of course, and began to fall backwards. She grabbed for his shoulders as his arms came around her. She clung to him, then lifted her eyes to his.

His lips came over hers with a vengeance, as if making up for the time they hadn't been there. She moaned, forgetting everything except him. When one of his hands closed over her breasts, she didn't pull away from him. She should have, but her body was screaming at her to let him touch her, to touch him back, and to take as much as he was willing to give her.

When his lips once again left her neck, she gave reign to her instincts, determined to let her passions run free. She'd spent so long keeping them hidden, keeping everything hidden. Now, with Kane, she was slowly losing control of herself—and she loved it.

She didn't know the man who was wringing such passionate feelings from her, but it didn't feel like that. His lips roamed over her neck, down to her collarbone. Her hands threaded into his hair, holding his head against her. It felt natural, like this was how it should be, how she should feel.

Wild. Free. Desired.

Kane was doing this to her, making her feel like this.

Heat ran through her body, striking her right in the gut. Her legs tightened around him, pulling him even closer. The only thing separating them was her clothing, and not even the thin layers of clothing could block the heat that was emitting from him. The heat that was affecting her in the worst of passionate ways.

"Are ye' alright, my lady?" His voice sent shivers over her skin. She pressed her hands into his shoulders, urging him on with a silent "yes". She felt intoxicated. That was the only reason she was letting this happen, she thought vaguely, gasping when he reached behind her, undoing some of the top laces of her dress. His fingers were deft and warm, every brush of his skin against hers had tendrils of desire curl in her gut.

Soon enough, her bodice wasn't as tight, and the small bit of control she had was gone. His lips caressed her collarbone, up until the top of her dress was loose. She froze at the first draft of wind across her breasts. Saeran started to pull away, heart thundering with a mixture of confusion and desire. Her face heated when she saw the hunger in his eyes. As he stared at her, at a place no one but her mother and sister had seen, embarrassment had her arms lifting. She started to cover herself, but his growl of disapproval stopped her.

She stared at him like a rabbit about to be shot with an arrow.

"Why...why did you do that?" she asked shakily. Saeran wanted to draw the dress to her chest, to shield herself from him. But there was also a part of her that...didn't. She wanted him to see her as she was. She wanted him to see a part of her that she'd kept hidden from him when she pretended to be a boy.

"Because," he said lowly, the thickness of his desire-laden brogue enough to make her eyes close, "I wanted to see ye'. Donna cover yerself, lass. I'll be taking my fill of ye'." Then, without another word, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him—except this time, her breasts were eye level with his face. Saeran was still, afraid to move lest he stop himself from whatever he had planned for her.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked before she could stop herself. When one corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, she wanted to weep at the wave of lust that shot through her.

"This," he said, bending his head and closing his mouth right over her breast. Her eyes widened, and shock held her still—along with pleasure. His mouth was warm and wet, biting at first, then sucking on her with great pulls. The feeling blinded her, made a strangled sound rip from her throat.

"What are you doing to me?" she whimpered, threading her fingers into his hair. She didn’t know whether to pull him close or push him away. The emotions she felt terrified her and intrigued her—and she knew he could tell she had wavered.

He abruptly pulled away. All of the sensations, all of the passion, drained out of her like a plug had been pulled. Out went the fantasy, and in came the reality. It was so sudden that she was left trembling.

"Alice, I can no’ do this. No’ right now," he said, regret and something deeper tinging his voice.

She stared up at him, panting, the reality of what had happened leaving her bereft. She had just done something unimaginable, unforgivable.

"I know…” Her whisper caused a flash of pain to cross his face. Now was not the time—there would never be a time. He was not hers to have. She kept the words to herself, shame nearly choking her.

"Good. That’s…good, lass.” Then, even though his voice was strained and his eyes were piercing, he helped her down from the fence and turned her around, nimbly tying her laces and straightening her dress. When he came into her view again, she stared up at him, lips pressed, feeling...empty. Aye, without him, she felt lonely. Even though he was standing in front of her, she felt as if he were half way across the world.

His lips quirked at the corners and he reached up, gently threading his fingers through her hair. She lowered her eyes, body still high from the pleasure. She was wet, hot, and burning for him. She was willing to bet that he was in no better condition.

"'Tis too soon for you," he murmured. "Ye'd hate me for taking more advantage of ye' than I already have, Alice."

"Nay, I—"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Donna deny it, lass. Ye' ken ye' would." Kane took his finger from her lips, letting it slide down her cheek, to her jaw. He tilted her face towards his, then smiled. "Soon."

"Soon?" she repeated. This couldn’t happen again! He was her sister’s betrothed! And yet, even as she thought that, her heart thundered in her chest.

"Aye. When I ken ye' better, and when ye' get off my arse about Lady Blaine. I donna want ye' to be plagued by guilt when I finally take what we both want."