Page 10 of Kidnapped by her Highland Enemy

T he rain was not lifting, and the wind was howling like a vengeful spirit. Maisie huddled under the blankets, happy to be warm and now that she understood why she had been secreted off by Lucas, she felt a bit more comforted.

It still irked her a little that Lucas had taken her to prevent himself from being killed. However, who was to say that if the killer had not succeeded with Lucas, he would have stopped from turning to her family?

I might be safest here with him.

While unable to sleep, she turned on her bed and thought back to earlier that day, when Lucas kissed her. Surely, he had to realize that she was a na?ve with men. She had never kissed before and while her instinct had taken over, she was sure her performance had been lacking.

Even while a part of her wanted to feel such delight and fire again, it was not right. Any liaison between them was doomed for disaster, and she was determined to fight the feelings stirring within her.

But what if she shouldn’t? Lucas was kind, she knew he was honorable, stood on his morals, and even more, she felt that he did not want to extend this foolish feud any more than she did.

His method of saving him and herself was just a bit rash and flawed, but could it be so bad to follow her desire instead of reason?

Conflicted, she huffed out a breath then shucked the covers off before leaving the room and heading down the stairs to find a glass of milk. The rooms were dim, the only light came from the flashing lightning just beyond the windowpanes.

Working by memory, she managed to get the pot on with the milk while trying to keep any disturbing sounds low. She eyed the shadows in the corners with a new understanding. She and Lucas had a mutual threat and neither knew where it truly came from.

“Cannae sleep lass?”

Nearly leaping out of her skin, Maisie barely held back the blood-curdling scream that nearly left her mouth. She spun, almost knocking over the pot only to have Lucas grab and steady her.

The dim light showed a wicked, mischievous glimmer in his eyes, and she felt irritated. How had she not heard him approach? “Ye! Why are ye sneaking up on me?”

His hands rang over her skin, making those irksome feeling to surge to the forefront of her mind. She was aware of the clean, soap-scent of his skin, the wicked glimmer in his eye, and the dratted rasp of his palms over her smoother skin.

“I wasnae,” he said, a bit apologetically. “Years of hunting skittish deer has made me light on me feet.”

Pulling away from him, Maisie reached for a cloth and removed the milk from the stove.

Acutely aware of Lucas’s presence behind her, Maisie poured it into a goblet.

The hairs on the back of her neck were perpetually lifted, as was the gooseflesh on her arm, as her body was reacting to Lucas’s powerful presence.

It was heady, intoxicating, and balanced the edge of danger.

Lucas leaned on the wall, resting a boot on a bucket. “What kept ye up, lass?”

“I—” she held back the true reason, “—just cannae understand why all this is happening. It’s another wedge shoved into an already contentious situation. If we were at peace with each other, we’d already have to come to a table and found a way to fetter out this scoundrel.”

“Aye,” Lucas nodded and rubbed a hand over his cheek.

“It’s more than troubling.” A bright bolt of lightning—rendering Lucas’s face into shadows—and crashing thunder made the walls tremble.

“But I daenae want ye to worry about it. Ye’ll be safe and I will find who is behind this, trust me to do this, lass. ”

Leaning on the table, Maisie sipped her drink and rolled a thought through her mind. “Yestereve, when ye said ye made decisions in love that came back to hunt ye…what did ye mean?”

“I was foolish and trusted lasses who only saw me and me clan as a foot in with the King,” Lucas said. “Before I found out how much self-serving he is, me faither and he would have personal visits and such, but now, we’re keeping a distance between us.”

“He kens he has fallen out of favor with ye.”

“For most of the highland clans,” Lucas added.

Her stomach roiled as she prepared for the next question. “Why did ye kiss me?”

Pushing from the wall, Lucas came to her and plucked the empty cup from her hand.

Framing her face with both broad hands, he dropped his voice, “I ken ye are confused about why and while I deanae fully understand it meself, I know a few things. Ye are pure, feisty and have a fiercely loyal heart. I felt intrigued from the moment I saw ye and ye tried to fight me off.”

This close, Maisie could see the truth reflecting in his gaze and while she should feel much better, her heart lodged itself somewhere in her throat.

Covering his hands with hers, she whispered, “Our families are enemies.”

“Maybe it’s time to do away with that,” Lucas said while slipping his hands from her cheekbones to her nape and the other down to her thigh.

His mouth pressed against hers, gently first, his lips parting and closing in a languid rhythm that left her drugged, his tongue retreating to trace the seam between them before invading to search for hers again.

The smooth rasp of his tongue over hers sent a little thrill through her, causing the tips of her breasts to tighten.

A muffled growl rumbled between them—a vibration through his chest that made her stomach tighten.

Pulling away, his lips found her ear and bit at the lobe before dipping down to suckle at her neck.

Shivering in his hold, Maisie canted her head to the side, grabbing on his shoulders to ground her to where she stood as she let him nibble and kiss her neck as a lover would.

“Trust me words, lass,” he husked in her air. “It might be frightening kenning our fathers hate each other, but I’m willing to try. Try with me.”

Her options were clear, reject him and live a life wondering if she would have lost a chance at love, or accept him and hedge her luck at not getting her heart broken.

“Yer nae making it fair,” she shuddered as his lips skimmed over the tenderest skin on her neck. “Yer nay allowing me to reason this through.”

“My apologies,” he said, utterly unrepentant as he sucked in her earlobe.

His hands glided lowered, skimming her thighs, his fingers digging in once he’d reached her hips.

She stiffened, her breasts peaking and lifting as she sucked in a deep breath, and it caught in her lungs.

The deep resonance of his voice played through her ears as her woman’s place was throbbing, aching, and shockingly wet.

“Scoundrel,” she shivered.

“I can be,” he replied while nosing at the throbbing point under her ear. “What do ye say?”

“Are ye—” she sucked in a breath, “—always so rash?”

“Another fault of mine,” he said, not kidding her but keeping close to her so she could feel his body on hers. “I want ye, lass.”

Masie decided. Please, if ye ken that ye are going to break me heart, daenae do this to me. “I’ll take it with ye.”

He kissed her again, sensually soft this time while her hand speared into his hair. Lucas’s thick locks slipped like silk through her fingers. He pulled away, “Get some sleep, Maisie.”

She startled and he saw it, then gave a questioning look in reply. “What?”

“I ken that is the first time ye’ve said me name,” she whispered.

“Ah,” he nodded, but a smirk rested on his face, “Tastes so lovely on me tongue,” he grinned. “Now, please, go get some sleep.”

With a nod and a whispered parting word, she left the nook and headed up to her room, feeling his eyes on her all the way.

Weak sunlight was tickling Maisie’s eyes as she pulled herself from sleep.

Blinking her eyes open, she realized that it was much past dawn.

Slipping out of bed, she drifted to the window to see a calmer sky, its pale wash of blue telling of the storm from last night.

The seas were calm, ebbing and flowing as if they had not been a raging tempest the night before.

Leaning on the sill, she gazed out and the memories of last night—or was it that morning—came back to her. Lucas hadn’t been fair in persuading her, but perhaps, if he had not been, she would have lost a chance to experience something.

He had been with women before and some of them had broken his heart.

With Lucas’s looks, he would not have to persuade any lass into his bed.

He was more than enough man for many women, let alone one, so, why did he suddenly decide to be with her?

He had to be mad to be daring her father’s wrath, but then, she was doing the same.

She could be in as much danger as he was when it came to crossing a line that should not have been crossed.

Pulling away from the table, she went to wash her face and mouth then descended the stairs to make some more warmed milk. As she entered the lower room, she felt an odd silence in the air. Where is Lucas?

As she had the pan on with the last of the milk, she began to hum a tune under her breath while she waited.

“Me lady,” Heather greeted her as she joined her in the nook. “Good morning.”

“Same to ye,” Maisie said, while growing concerned at how grave, displaced, and coldly angry her maid looked. “Are ye all right, Heather?”

“Nay,” Heather scowled. “And I willnae be until I am long gone from this place.”

Debating with herself about telling her bosom friend about her encounter with Lucas, Maisie bit her lip. She stared at the pot for a long while. “Where are the men?”

“Barclay took his man-at-arms out to hunt this morn, just after dawn, but his other guard and Miss Eilidh is here with us,” Heather replied as Maisie made her drink and headed back up to her room. Following her, Heather added, “She is resting, and he is guarding the front.”

“Ah,” Maisie sat and drank. While indecision twisted her stomach, she nervously said, “Heather, I daeane want ye to ken ill of me, but, I daenae ken Lucas is a bad as I once kent he was.”