Blay burrowed her face into the soft covers, thankful for the warm hearth and the comfortable bed. It was the only thing aiding the pain of her dimming hangover.
Lord, but she was a foolish one, wasn’t she? Her mother would be ashamed to see her now. Back in enemy lands—or at least, an enemy to her, since The McGregors were good friends of her family—with a hangover and the regret of a botched escape attempt hanging over her head.
She was furious, to say the least. If she had not been dumped into that river and risen too angry, she would not be sober enough to return here—she would have continued on her daring escape, and most likely gotten killed.
McGregor land and Shaw land had quite a distance between them. On foot, it would have taken her days to get there—and that was assuming no bandits accosted her on the way home. A lone woman, walking alone? Foolish. Incredibly foolish, and she blamed it completely on the ale. Aye, it was the ale’s fault she had let her sanity slip—and the undeniable animosity she felt toward her captor. Just thinking of his face right then made her blood boil. The only thing she remembered was the him and being thrown into water. Everything else was blurry, but that was to be expected. She barely remembered what happened the night of the forest fire now.
All she had from each drunken spree was vague and blurry…but that was expected. She had heard that ale was prone to make a man—or woman—forget what he did when he was with the spirits.
Blay brought her knees to her stomach, hating the ache there. She didn’t know whether she was hungry or about to vomit. Even if she was hungry, it wouldn’t matter. Not a single person had come to her since she had stumbled into the courtyard and been led to her room, which meant no food had been brought.
Was this punishment? She didn’t know, so she settled on feeling as if she were going to vomit and ran to the chamber pot. Apparently kneeling over the pot was enough to convince her belly that it was time to upchuck everything from her morning fast. Then she slumped against the ground and just laid there, hating herself.
She stayed there for minutes—hours, it felt like.
It wasn’t until the she heard the door open that she cracked her eye open. Her cheek was pressed against the floor, and even though it wasn’t the most comfortable position she had ever been in, she didn’t feel like moving from it.
“My lady, I—My lady!”
It hurt too much to respond to the panic in that voice, so she stayed there, wondering how long it would be before the floor would swallow her whole.
Sadly, the floor was too late in consuming her and all of her misery. Thick arms lifted her from the ground, and the next thing she knew, she was being laid on the bed with incredibly gentleness.
Alec McGregor had finally come to see her.
She rolled onto her stomach, groaning. “Just let me die.”
There was only a sigh in response.
“If I did that, The Lion would murder me without a second thought.”
“No,” she corrected him solemnly before she realized what he had said, “he would make it a slow and painful one. It would probably last for years—what did you just say?”
She sat up quicker than she should have. The next thing she knew, her head was throbbing and she was seeing stars.
The laird grabbed her by the shoulders and steadied her. She stared at him, anxious.
“How did you find out?” she asked him numbly. Though she had tried to escape, she didn’t want to actually leave. Now that she was sober, the thought of facing her mother and telling her to eat a dragon’s horn was a lot more daunting; a lot more…terrifying. And then dealing with Leith…no, she wasn’t ready to go back yet, no matter what she had attempting while in the cups.
But now that he knew, he would surely send her back to her family. It was the only way to avoid an all-out war with her father. Kane Shaw would never believe his beloved daughter would voluntarily stay away from home.
“I promised not to tell,” he said, a flash of annoyance crossing his eyes.
“The McGregor told you, didn’t he?” If there were a better way to describe miserable, she was that word incarnate. Now that the laird knew, there was no way he would keep her here.
His jaw ticked. “I want to ken why ye’ lied to me. Ye’ ken yer father will wage war on me, and yet ye’ put my clan at risk? Do ye’ no’ care about anyone but yerself?”
Her eyes widened.
“No—that’s not it—” She stopped herself from lying. She knew. Deep down, she knew. She had carelessly put other lives in danger because she wasn’t ready to face her mother. “I…I’m so sorry,” she whispered, lowering her eyes. Shame assailed her. She was honestly sorry for everything she had done, all because she was a self-centered brat.
“I want to ken why,” he insisted, dragging a hand through his long red hair.
If she told him, he would think her foolish. Immature. Ridiculous. Daft. And while she may be all of those things, she didn’t want it to be confirmed with him. So she only shook her head, looking at her fiddling fingers.
“I…I was kidnapped,” she said quietly. “They took me while I was riding to a friend of mine. I managed to escape and in doing so, I set the forest on fire. When I came here, I feared that…I feared that if ye’ sent me back to my family, they would attack them. So, I…”
“Ye’d pick the safety of yer own, and jeopardize a whole clan in doing so.” His voice was riddled with disgust. With every sharp word, she flinched.
“They are all dead, so there is nothing to fear—”
“Oh, there is plenty to ‘fear’. How do ye’ ken they’re really dead? And how do I ken yer father isn’t gathering his men to come slaughter my clan?”
“He wouldn’t do that,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “He kens yer friends of his…”
“Friends of his that have kept ye’ captive!” he roared, slamming a hand onto the bed. The move held so much force that it rocked her from where she lay, and she stared at him, eyes wide.
“I…I will explain everything to him. He’ll listen to me. He wouldn’t hurt ye’ if he knew ye’ rescued me, my laird. My father is not that ruthless of a man.”
Dark, furious eyes glared down at her. “If you can honestly say that The Lion would let anyone who kept his daughter from him go without a scratch on their heads, ye’ donna ken yer father well.”
He stood up, fury in every large muscle of his body. She saw it. She saw it, and she might fear it, but she couldn’t let him go like that. Not with so much hate towards her. Alec started toward the door and she got up quickly, moving so fast that her foot caught on one of the old dresses he had lent her.
Embarrassment and shock flowed through her as her body started to fall toward the ground. She expected a painful impact, but it never came. The only thing she felt were thick hands wrapping around her arms. Then she was hoisted against a warm chest, staring into intense green eyes, and lost.
Lost in warmth. In passion. In the strong hold of a man who likely hated her…who she should loath as well…and yet—she didn’t. She didn’t feel repulsion at his touch. She didn’t want to flinch away from him.
No, she wanted to lean into the heat of his large body. The strange feelings were instantaneous, and she blamed it on the tension spiking around them. She’d never imagined craving the touch of someone’s hands on hers, let alone Alec’s…and yet here she was, stunned to her core, her body pressed against his own.
“I…” She struggled to speak. Blay was not one to lose words, and yet in the face of his searing eyes and the faint ticking of his sculpted jaw, she was at a loss. A complete and utter loss, and she didn’t know how to react.
So she did the only thing she could think of, the thing she should have done instead of leaning into him.
Blay pulled away. It wasn’t until his hands fell from her that she breathed. A soft wisp of exhilarated air—and then his hands were back on her, dragging her body against his.
“What are ye’—” He didn’t give her time to finish her sentence before he was crushing his lips to her—and rousing memories that had lain long forgotten. With a chocked, muffled scream, she shoved at him, pushing back at him so forcefully that she was the one tumbling away from him.
She grabbed the bed post, panting, heaving. Gasping for breath through the rising panic.
“Get out,” she whispered, horrified. Her lips…they burned. “Get out. Donna speak, just leave. Go.”
“My lady, I—” His voice was low.
She could hear the barely restrained emotions in that deep timbre. She shook her head, turning her face away from him.
“I donna want to hear it. Leave me,” she said, her voice gaining strength. The longer he stood there, his lips red from his forced kiss, the more infuriated she became. “Leave me now.”
There was such a tense silence that her ears rang. When his first heavy foot fell to the ground, she wanted to run—but he was moving away from her, just as she’d asked.
It wasn’t until he was at the door that she looked at him and met his eyes. The look in them shocked her to her soul.
“I saw the heat in yer eyes, lass,” he said darkly, quietly. Even with all of the space between them, she could hear the low rumble of his voice. “Ye’ wanted the kiss just as much as I wanted to give it to ye’.”
“No,” she denied. Liar. “I only wanted ye’ to ken that my father would no’ harm ye’, but now…”
“Ye’ think to threaten me with yer father, woman?” He barked a short, dark laugh. “Have a fun time explain to daddy dearest why ye’ were practically begging me fer a kiss. Fer even a touch. I saw it in ye’. Just as I felt it in ye’ when ye’ fell against me.”
She shook her head, horrified, knowing he was right. She might have been panicked…but it was because of how much she had wanted him to kiss her—and even worse, that he had known. She was a sick person. Sick to her soul. Defiled by another and yet still craving the attention of this man.
“Please,” she whispered, all of the fight leaving her. “Please, go.”
“Fer now.”
* * *
Alec did go, just as she had asked, but not for long.
He sent word to her father of what had transpired—the kidnapping, the fire, and the rescue. He had left out the fact that twice, his daughter had been caught by Alec drunk, and that before he had realized she was The Lion’s daughter, he’d been keeping her captive.
The response he got back from The Lion was immediate, and he didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed over the request the great chieftain asked of him.
Keep her there until the threat is taken care of. They think she’ll come back home, and do not know her whereabouts. Give your father my regards.
Short and to the point, and all too tempting.
And as a man who had few temptations, this wasn’t good. Alec had had hundreds of women throw themselves at him, and all of them he had refused. Yet one little gasp from Lady Blayne was enough to undo years of trained resistance.
He didn’t know if it was a good thing, or a bad thing, and he honestly didn’t want to find out.
It was two days later before he could make himself face his guest. His father had given her the letter from The Lion, and she was fuming—but she wasn’t stupid, and hadn’t run away again.
Or gotten drunk off her arse.
Lord, but he didn’t think he could handle any more of her drunken escapades.
Today isn’t the day to think about that, he told himself firmly. Today was the day that he would take care of this awkward tension in the clan—or at the very least, between himself and his guest. He tried to think that he was only reconciling this because her father was a fearsome laird, but he knew that wasn’t the case.
She was silent, and he didn’t like that. Lady Blayne was a vibrant woman. She had a quick smile, a quick frown, a quick glint in her eye that said she was going to do horrible things that would drive him mad…she was just lively. And to think of her being cooped up in a room because she was afraid of him for kissing her?
It was unacceptable. He had to go in there and lie to her face and tell her that the kiss had meant nothing to him, and that it wouldn’t happen again…no matter how much he wanted another.
The first had been too quick, too impulsive. He knew that if he had another chance at kissing her, he would make it long and drawn-out. He’d take his time with her, like he was helping himself to a delicacy rarely known to man. He would show her that there was nothing to be afraid of, and that she could relax around him.
Now that he knew who she was, he had no reason to be suspicious about her. He had no reason to question her motives. And, he thought as he raised his fist to the door, he had no qualms about indulging in her presence—it didn’t even matter if there was kissing involved.
He had put off his meetings to spend time with her, and that was exactly what he planned to do.
Alec knocked.
And waited.
Knocked again.
And…waited.
He frowned. Had the lass slept in late this morn? He peered around for any servants. Mayhap if one came by, he could send them in to investigate. He wanted the lass to tolerate him, not fear him for entering her quarters unannounced. A servant was the perfect solution!
Except, upon further inspection, he realized that there were no servants to be seen. His eye twitched.
Alec tried knocking again, this time more loud and abrupt. “Lady Blayne?” he called, starting to become irate. If she was purposely ignoring him, he will definitely have something to say about that.
He was the laird of this castle. Guest or not, everyone answered to him as long as they were on his land. With a grunt, he wrapped his hand around the handle.
Mayhap she wasn’t ignoring him on purpose—but injured. The thought pushed him into action and he shoved the door open.
It slammed against the wall as he took in the room, and then he cursed.
The damn lass was nowhere to be found again.