Page 11 of Kidnapped by her Highland Enemy

“What?” Heather gasped in horror. “How can ye even consider such a thing? He is yer, our, enemy, me lady. Ye cannae be so blinded by him to nae realize that he is tricking ye. He doesnae come from a good family, nor do I ken he has any good intention for ye. Ye cannae allow him to trick ye into believing that he is a decent fellow.”

The milk lost all appeal for Maisie, but she drank it still. “He is nae an evil man, Heather. I do wish ye would open yer eyes to see that he is nae his father. Despite what happened between our clans, he has nae killed us nor do I ken he will.”

“He’s tricking ye,” Heather threw her hands up in despair. “Can ye nay see that?”

Resting the goblet down, Maisie said, “Why do ye keep holding unto this notion? He has nay harmed ye or me and he willnae do so.”

“His colors will turn,” Heather sneered. “And when he does, ye’ll know how foolish ye were to trust him at all. Ye faither will be embarrassed for ye.”

While knowing Heather was right—her father would not only be embarrassed but also enraged—she could not deny that the feeling of resting in Lucas’s arms made her feel warm, understood, even cared for.

That is me innocence talking, he might arouse me, but does he care for me?

“Please leave,” Maisie said, more harshly than she had thought she would ever say to her friend. Now that she knew Heather was dead set on hating the man, she was ever gladder that she had not told Heather that Lucas had kissed her. “Yer being unreasonable.”

With her jaw working, Heather nodded curtly and left the room, leaving Maisie to feel horrible, sad, and perplexed.

She understood why Heather was feeling so betrayed, as years ago her brother had been killed by the Barclays, but she should have realized that Lucas was not the barbarian that had murdered her brother.

If he had been, they would have been dead already.

Maybe her feelings for the man—as inexplicable as they were as only a sennight or so ago, she had hated the man—were interrupting her logic, but she felt, deeply felt that Lucas was a good man.

He was unsettlingly handsome and she had begun to know that there was more to him than swordsmanship and quick feet.

He was smart, brave, and patriotic to his green and purple kilted roots.

Sighing, she went to prop herself near the window and began to look out at the glistening waters that stretched into the far beyond.

Against all reason, she began to think about what Lucas had said about her father.

He was right; she did crave his approval.

What she did know though was that if she dared to keep this—attachment, relationship, dalliance?

—with Lucas, she would never, ever get it.

Is it worth it to earn his admiration, or is it better to find me way and do what I want to do, even if it means losing a chance at happiness?

About midday, she ventured down to find something to eat, just as Lucas and Oliver came into the room, both bearing five dead, gutted, and skinned rabbits each. Maisie went warm at the feel of his eyes skating over her and she braved a smile. “Hunt went well, I see.”

“Very,” Lucas grinned and lifted the rack. “Now, we just need to cook them for dinner and salt the rest.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Eilidh said as she came into the room. “Just set them down and step away from me knife.”

The two men laughed and obeyed, placing the rabbits down before they backed away. Maisie caught Lucas’s eye and smiled, but felt her lips fall. Heading to the nook, she got a cup of water and while Eilidh began to butcher the rabbits, Lucas came near.

“Fancy a stroll?”

“I’d love to, aye,” she replied.

As she headed out with Lucas, she felt a gaze skitter over the side of her neck and looked to see Oliver giving the two an inscrutable gaze. Just as she thought he was disapproving like Heather, he inclined his head, barely enough to show his support.

Heading out into the seaside, she felt the lingering cool that rested in the air from the rains last night. Lucas led her down to the shoreline and again, they took the same flat stone from the day before.

She folded her skirt and sat, then wrapped her arms around her knees while she felt Lucas rest a hand on the small of her back.

“What is bothering ye now?” he murmured in her ear.

“I told ye that I never gained me faither’s approval, nae for anything I did, or said,” Maisie said quietly while the wind fluttered her hair. She then looked at him. “If I do let this connection, the odd bond that we have get stronger, I’m assured that I will never get it.”

He pulled her into his side, “I’m saddened to hear that.”

She propped her chin on her arm. “Ye are his enemy, Lucas, ye cannae deny that. He willnae take it lightly that I have chosen ye as me first when they are so many others that I ken he would prefer for me to be with instead.”

“I’m surprised,” he said while his hand smoothed up her spine. “Yer so beautiful that I am shocked to hear ye say that.”

Turning to him, Maisie felt her skin heat, “Come again?”

“Nay one had ever told ye?” his brows knotted together. “Tis a shame, Maisie. Yer nae just a beauty, but probably the most enchantingly lovely lass I have ever seen. And I want ye to believe me.”

Bending his head, he pressed his lips to hers He kissed her hungrily, lapping at her with his tongue and cupping the back of her head the way he suddenly realized she liked.

He deepened their kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as pleasure rippled through her body with every pass of his thrusting tongue.

When he lifted her to his lap, he held her too gently, as if she were some fragile thing that he was afraid to break.

Pulling away, Maisie rested her elbows on his shoulder. “He willnae be pleased, Lucas.”

“I ken,” his smile was slanted and wry. “But I’m sure I can prove meself.”

“He willnae give the chance,” Maisie said. “He will rather have ye be hung at the gallows or be run through with a claymore because ye dared to touch me. He might even challenge ye to duel.”

Oddly, Lucas looked delighted. “I’ll take the last one.”

A wry laugh left her. “Ye live for the fight, daenae ye?”

“It’s most of what I ken,” he shrugged while his hands rested on her thighs.

“Me faither had told me that he fears the day I become a faither meself. He swears all I will teach the lad or lass is how to handle a blade. He’s nay wrong, but I can fish, and hunt, I even have an uncanny talent for fettering out an enemy before it’s made apparent. ”

“Ye want children?” Maisie asked, then went red as she asked something very plain.

“Aye,” he said, “I am an only son, but I want three or more bairns. It’s a first for me family as before me, me faither was one son an’ his faither before him. I want to break that. I searched for a wife in neighboring, allied clans but they were nay true to what they professed they felt for me.”

“They lied about loving ye?”

“Aye,” Lucas nodded, his gaze going soft and melancholy. “And there were others, that did nae have the standards me faither wanted for me, but did love me, only they were sent away. At one point I realized that t’was either marry for convenience and prestige or marry for love.”

“Which one do ye want now?” Maisie asked.

“I’d love to marry someone who straddles the median,” he said, while his eyes trailed over her face. “I want a lass of good birth, who is true of heart and will love me truly. But if pressed, I would choose one I love regardless. It’s nae a good feeling to wake up to cold convenience at yer side.”

“I’ve never put much stock into marriage,” Maisie said, reluctantly. “I supposed that if I were to marry, t’would be to one of me faither’s allied son, just for marriage’s sake.”

“Ye never expected happiness to come with it?” Lucas asked.

She slowly shook her head, “I hardly ken what happiness is.”

His hand reached to her face, “Will ye let me show ye then?” Lucas’s eyes dropped to her lips, and he looked as if he wanted to kiss her.

Inch by inch he drew her closer and Maisie made no protest when his lips met hers.

A shock jolted through her as his mouth opened on hers, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster as his tongue flicked against her lips, teasing her, inviting her, challenging her for more.

Maisie slid her hands up the front of his shirt, feeling his muscles in his chest tauten, and circling her arms around his shoulders, she kissed him back with a boldness she had not known she had, drawing his tongue into her mouth.

She felt his sharp intake of his breath as desire surged in her own veins.

Her soul stirred, longing for something she did not know or had ever experienced.

A slight breeze brushed her cheeks, bringing with it the familiar scent of heather from the hills beyond, seducing her every bit as much as the man in her arms.

He pulled the ties of her hair moments before his fingers plunged into the thick masses, pulling her fully against his hardening body, demanding more. He pulled away only for them to breathe before his lips were on hers again.

This second kiss was even better than the first. Stronger, wilder, as if tempting them to succumb to temptation in the end. But to continue down the reckless path would be completely thoughtless, yet she could not find the strength to pull out of his arms.

His hand swept from her waist to the center of her back, pressing her to the hard planes of his chest, then sliding lower, over her hip, to grasp her bottom and angle her hips to his—where she felt the rigid length of his erection under her.

“So bonnie…” Lucas murmured thickly, pulling away from her kiss-bruised lips. “Breathtakin’.”

While reeling at the feeling of his desire for her, Maisie shivered on his lap. She leaned into him, inhaling a deep, trembling breath and her arms found their way around Lucas’s back. It took every ounce of restraint in her heart to whisper, “We should stop.”