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6: WE ALL HAVE OUR WEAKNESSES

DAVINA’S PULSE STARTED thundering in her ears.

What in heaven’s name are ye doing?

Initially, when Mackay had entered her bedchamber to aid her with the spider, she hadn’t noticed the man was half-naked.

She’d been too panicked to care about his state of dress.

But when she had, she’d stared like a lackwit.

To be honest, he was quite a sight.

Lennox Mackay was leanly built, yet the lantern light gilded the hard muscles of his chest, shoulders, and arms. In this warm light, he appeared sculpted from marble.

She should have yanked her gaze away then, but instead, in a daze, she’d let her attention wander lower, to his flat belly and the waistband of his braies.

He’d clearly pulled them on when he’d heard her screams, hastily knotting the laces.

Yet the knot had now loosened, and the braies hung indecently low.

And as she stared, she saw movement in those loose trew.

With a jolt, she realized his rod was stiffening.

Mother Mary!

That was enough to jerk her out of the trance.

Davina’s head snapped up, hot mortification prickling across her skin.

He was staring at her, a blend of incredulity and heat in his gaze.

Davina’s galloping heart went wild.

He’d marked how blatantly she’d stared at him.

Stumbling back, she gestured to the door.

“Thank ye for yer assistance, Mackay.” Her voice came out strangled, causing humiliation to pulse through her.

Ever since Blair, she’d told herself that no man would ever arouse her again.

But to her dismay, desire was very much alive—for she’d just responded to someone she didn’t even like.

And Mackay was looking at her now as if he wanted to devour her.

She had to get him out of her bedchamber before he tried anything.

“I was happy to help, my lady,” he said, his voice low yet edged with faint amusement.

Davina’s cheeks were burning now, and she clenched her hands by her sides.

“Good night,” she ground out.

“Let us forget this happened.”

Mackay moved toward Davina then, halting before her.

They were standing close, so close she could smell the woodsy scent of the soap he’d used to bathe with before retiring; mixed with the spicy aroma of his skin, the smell was heady.

Davina’s breathing grew shallow, and an unwelcome ache started to pulse between her thighs.

Lord, did she have no shame?

“Davina,” he rumbled softly.

“Look at me.”

Clenching her jaw, she slowly raised her chin and forced herself to meet his eye.

Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs when she saw he was no longer amused.

Instead, his expression smoldered.

This man had a breathtaking sensuality, one her body responded to like dry tinder to a flame.

It was shocking to discover she didn’t dislike him as much as she’d thought.

Upsetting. It made Davina want to race outside and throw her heated body into the icy waters of Loch Awe to quench the fire.

“Are ye settled now that the spider has been dealt with?” he asked, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Aye,” she whispered.

What a lie that was.

Her heart was pounding wildly.

“I feel a little foolish now though.”

His mouth quirked in a half-smile that made desire twist low in her stomach.

“Don’t feel embarrassed on my account,” he murmured.

Heat flushed across Davina’s chest as she realized he wasn’t only talking about the spider but about the awareness that had just sparked between them.

“We all have our weaknesses.”

And with that, he walked to the door and left the chamber, pulling the door shut behind him.

Standing alone in her bedchamber, Davina waited a few moments before breathing an oath.

Curse it, she hadn’t meant to shriek like a banshee either—but her fear of spiders had caused all good sense to flee.

She then glanced down at where her breasts thrust against the thin material of her night-rail.

Why hadn’t she had the wits to don a robe before answering the door?

Although small, her breasts felt much heavier than usual, and her dark nipples were pressing against the thin linen as if the night were cold.

But far worse was that the deep, uncomfortable ache between her thighs hadn’t yet eased.

Shakily, Davina moved across to the bed.

Instead of retiring, she sank to her knees before it.

The floorboards were hard, yet she welcomed the discomfort.

Clasping her hands together, she squeezed her eyes closed.

No, she wasn’t devout—but she had to change that.

Tonight. She couldn’t enter Iona plagued by impure thoughts.

“Our Father in Heaven,” she whispered fervently.

“Keep me from temptation … from sin.”

Davina bit her lower lip then, her chest constricting.

She hadn’t cared about either of those things when she’d given in to her need for Blair Cameron.

They should have waited until marriage to succumb to desire, yet during a warm, wet summer, they’d consummated months of lingering glances and stolen touches.

But now Davina’s lover was dead, and her days of reckless behavior were behind her.

“Just a few more days,” she whispered, squeezing her hands together so hard her fingers started to hurt.

“And I can start again.”

Lennox brushed away a fly that kept diving at his face and glanced up at the hard blue sky.

Two hot days had passed since they’d left Kilchurn, and it looked as if today would be scorching as well.

Usually, he welcomed good weather—for after months of grey and cold, it was a balm to feel the sun’s warmth upon his skin—but he now found it stifling.

While they’d been riding alongside Loch Awe, the heat had been less oppressive.

A faint breeze had feathered in across the water, fanning their sweaty brows and keeping the midges and flies away from the horses.

But now that they’d left the loch behind, it had grown increasingly humid.

At present, they rode through a thickly wooded vale, and clouds of midges, which had risen from the stream that ran alongside the road, were bothering the horses and riders alike.

Slowing his courser a little, Lennox allowed Davina to draw up alongside upon her palfrey.

And to his chagrin, she looked much fresher and more comfortable than he did.

Arching an eyebrow, she favored him with a questioning look.

“Is something amiss, Captain?” she asked, her tone as cool as her expression.

Lennox shook his head.

In truth though, he was plagued by both boredom and irritation this morning.

He had no real reason to feel so, for the journey had gone well so far.

They’d stopped at the village of Kintraw on the second eve and found comfortable lodgings.

Yet, as he often did, Lennox had slept fitfully, and ever since leaving Kilchurn, he’d felt increasingly impatient.

He studied Davina’s face a moment.

After the incident with the spider at Eredine on the first night, they’d barely spoken; the woman had taken great pains to ignore him.

The eve before at Kintraw, she’d disappeared into her room as soon as they found lodgings—and hadn’t reappeared until this morning.

She hadn’t joined Lennox or his men for supper in the common room downstairs; instead, a serving lass brought her meal up to her.

Her cold shoulder shouldn’t have bothered him yet, strangely, it had.

He’d eaten his supper alone at a table in the common room, while his men diced and laughed a few yards away, and kept stealing glances at the stairs, as if expecting her to join them.

It had dawned on him then, as he finished his meal, that he enjoyed sparring with Davina Campbell.

The evening was dull without her.

“We have one last, long day of travel before us, Lady Davina,” he replied with a smile.

“I thought we might pass the time with some light conversation.”

Her mouth compressed, letting him know she didn’t find the idea appealing.

Indeed, part of Lennox knew he should leave well enough alone.

The truth was, Davina had piqued his interest. He should heed her advice and forget that incident, and yet he couldn’t.

The night before, as he’d stared up at the darkness, he’d recalled the way she’d looked at him, and the way her small, peaked breasts thrust against her thin night-rail.

He’d imagined going down on his knees before her and suckling those tempting nipples through the fine linen.

Letting himself indulge in such a fantasy had been a mistake though, for he’d had to deal with a raging erection.

Just get her to the gates of Iona Abbey , he’d told himself as he pressed his knuckles against his throbbing shaft.

And remember what Colin Campbell does to those who mess with his daughter.

That warning should have been enough to make him keep his distance from Davina—and yet, over the past day, he’d fought the urge to seek her out, to have that haughty gaze upon him once more.

And this morning, he’d given in to the temptation.

“I can’t imagine what we’d talk about, Captain,” Davina replied after a brief pause.

He inclined his head.

“Do ye believe I lack the wits to engage ye in witty conversation then?”

A blush flared upon her cheeks, and her back stiffened.

He’d thought she might deny it, yet to his surprise, she replied, “Perhaps.”

Lennox barked a laugh.

“I’m brother to the chieftain of Dun Ugadale, ye know?”

“Congratulations,” she replied, her tone dry.

Of course, she would know that, having met Iver a few months earlier.

“I was brought up with a tutor,” Lennox went on.

“I imagine I speak French and Latin just as well as ye do … and I can discuss politics and philosophy too, if ye wish?”

Davina gave a soft snort.

“Ye don’t have to prove yerself to me, Captain. I care not for yer accomplishments.”

Her words were meant to quash Lennox, yet he found they merely encouraged him.

“Even so, ye have barely spoken since Eredine,” he drawled.

“I was beginning to think there was something wrong with yer tongue.”

Stony silence met this comment.

She likely didn’t appreciate him mentioning that village, for it was a reminder of what had happened at the inn.

Flies buzzed around them, and their horses’ tails swished, their ears flickering as they tried to dislodge the annoying insects.

Judging from the baleful look Davina was giving him, Lennox guessed she wished she could flick him away like a fly.

He was aware that he was crossing a line, that he was starting to push a little too hard.

Nonetheless, it was as if there were a devil on his shoulder this morning.

“I believe I have misjudged ye, Lennox Mackay,” Davina said eventually, breaking the silence between them.

His mouth curved once more.

“Ye did?” He thought he’d offended her, but maybe he hadn’t, after all.

“Aye,” she went on. “Ye come across as brash … with the confidence of ten men … but I believe that’s a ruse. For all yer insolence, ye aren’t as sure of yerself as ye make out.”

Lennox’s smile faded.

Like a well-aimed quarrel, Davina’s observation had just hit him between the eyes.

It was as if she’d just stripped away the mask he never took off, leaving him naked in front of her.

And the feeling of exposure wasn’t a sensation he liked—not at all.

He noted then that Davina was watching him closely, her gaze sharp.

She knew she had him.

Lennox wasn’t sure how he’d have responded then—although he never got the chance, for one of his men forestalled him.

“Captain!” Hamish grunted from a few yards back.

“Something is happening ahead.”

Inwardly cursing himself for taking his attention from his surroundings, for he was usually vigilant, Lennox’s gaze snapped forward.

They’d just rounded the corner.

A moment earlier, their view of the road before them had been obscured by the low-hanging branches of oak trees.

But now, he spied a skirmish only yards away.

Three men were closing in on a fourth, their thin dirk-blades flashing in the sunlight.