Highland Brides 03 - On Bended Knee (24 page)

The night was foggy but warm and she slipped away, into the mist, unobserved. No one would miss her, she was certain. Two of Meghan’s maids were flirting with Colin and Meghan was deep in conversation with Alison, who had decided to remain overnight rather than venture home in the fog. Her da, she had said, would understand, and would wish her to remain safe with Meghan rather than endanger herself on the path home.

At that thought, Seana allowed herself a moment of self-pity. At least Alison had someone waiting at home who would miss her… and soon… she would have Leith… and lots of little children… little boys, mayhap, who would bear resemblance to her father… who would carry on his legacy and make everyone proud.

Her da had not lived, even, to see his grandchildren—not that Seana would for certain have any. Right now it didn’t appear that she would. She was suddenly without heart, and Broc Ceannfhionn didn’t seem to stir it at all.

Broc had long gone, mumbling apologies and something about his cousin Cameron and his dog, and Seana had had no idea what the devil he was talking about, nor had she had the wherewithal to ask.

She found a secluded spot in the field before the Montgomerie manor and sat upon the grass.

Seana had no notion how long she sat there, brooding. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours.

The moon above shone bright, but the night clouds veiled its light. All about her mist swirled, like the twirling hems of dresses…

Any other night it might have seemed eerie but not tonight. Tonight she needed the cloak.

Her heart felt both heavy and as though it beat too fast… as though it couldn’t quite decide whether to stop or go on. She swallowed hard and looked up at the stars… so vast… that sky… almost as though it went on for an eternity.

She began to sing…

O’er Coolins face the night is creeping The banshee’s wail is round us sweeping.

Blue eyes in Duin are dim with weeping Since thou art gone and ne’er returning…

It was a song her da had sung to her as a wee one, only the look in his eyes had been wistful and Seana had known he’d been singing for her mother. Well, he was with her now, and she hoped the two of them could hear her song… and know she was well.

The song soothed her and she continued, her voice soft in the night…

The breeze of the bens is gently blowing.

The brooks in the glens are softly flowing.

Where boughs their darkest shades are throwing,

Birds mourn for thee who’s ne’er returning…

Colin had followed her out from the hall, but with the mist so thick tonight he’d lost her.

He heard her before he saw her, and followed the sound of her song. Her voice was so sad, but there was a strength in her that he admired and loved.

He found her seated upon the meadow and might have missed her entirely except that her song, like a siren’s melody, lured him. The night mist surrounded her, enfolded her, curled around her like a lover’s embrace.

“Seana?”

Starting at the sound of his voice, she stopped singing and turned to look up at him, her eyes wide.

“I dinna mean to frighten ye,” he said.

She took a gasping breath, giving lie to her words. “You did not.”

“I thought ye might need some company,” Colin offered, and hoped it were so. Never in his life had he known a woman so independent from any man.

She nodded, and turned back to the stars, giving him her back. Colin came to her side and sat beside her. His knee inadvertently touched her thigh and he held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to move it. He felt like he had when he’d been but a lad with his first affection—excited and nervous to be beside her—as though she were the first woman he had ever touched.

His heart beat a little faster.

“I know ye miss him, lass.” His mouth felt too dry suddenly even to speak. He felt foolish and perhaps a bit guilty at the thought of becoming aroused simply by her presence, when she obviously didn’t see him as a lover, and she was in mourning besides.

She was probably completely oblivious to him—she certainly acted it—and it was the first time in his life he had ever felt so invisible to a woman.

He didn’t like it.

“You look lovely in that dress,” he said, and didn’t like the way his voice trembled, betraying him.

She turned to face him, with those beautiful green eyes and luscious lips… and he wanted to reach out and wipe away every trace of powder and lip tint his sister and Alison had marked upon her body. She didn’t need it. Her face was perfection in his eyes.

“Och!” she exclaimed, and must have sensed his thoughts because she averted her gaze suddenly, staring at her lap, where she wrung her hands. “I feel silly,” she confessed. “I did not wish to hurt Alison’s feelings but I feel silly to be painted so lavishly.”

Colin smiled at her. “You surely do not need it.”

She shrugged. “Alison said it would make me irresistible to Broc.”

“Hmmmm,” Colin said, and grinned. “Let’s see.” He moved closer, pretending to inspect her face, aware of her every breath, her every gesture. He took in a breath and captured her scent, drawing it into his lungs, savoring it. His eyes closed. He’d meant to tease her, to come close and then to… he didn’t know what he’d intended… only that it felt too good to breathe in her scent… and he never wanted to stop.

His body shook with desire, but he forced composure, lest he push her down into the grass and make love to her this very moment. She didn’t want it—didn’t want him, he reminded himself.

She wanted Broc.

His gut wrenched at the very thought.

He peered up at her to find that she was watching him warily.

“Well?”

Colin blinked innocently at her. “Well what?”

“Quite resistible, I think,” she concluded, when he didn’t move toward her. She laughed softly and need clawed his loins.

His grin turned crooked. He couldn’t help it. He was a rogue at heart, and he was too old to deny it.

“Aye, but that scent…” He sniffed the air. “Now that is enough to make a man stupid with lust.”

Her sweet brows drew together in confusion. “What scent? They used no scents on me.”

Colin sniffed the air again, teasing her. “Surely they must have.”

“Nay!” she swore when he got upon his hands and knees and played like a puppy, sniffing the air around her.

She giggled and it encouraged him. He wanted to hear her laughter, see her smile. He lunged at her, sniffing her ribs, and she shrieked in momentary alarm.

She threw out her hands, but didn’t push him away. Colin continued to sniff her… moving to her neck.

“Colin Mac Brodie!” she protested. “What are you doing?”

“I canna seem to help myself,” he confessed, nudging her back against the grass with his nose.

Her laughter escalated. “That tickles! Och, Colin Brodie what are you doing!”

Falling in love with her, that was what he was doing.

Deeply and madly in love, and he couldn’t resist.

She fell back against the dewy grass, giggling, and it did his heart good to hear it.

Like a hunter with his quarry, he sensed her vulnerability and moved over her, trapping her beneath him. He wasn’t going to fight fairly. He knew how to woo a woman, knew how to please her and he wasn’t going to lose her without a fight. He could make her happy, if only she would let him.

He wanted the chance to do that more than he wanted even to breathe.

He grinned down on her as she laughed.

Her hands were on his shoulders now, keeping him at bay, pushing him gently away, though without real intent. Colin refused to budge and then she stopped pushing at all, leaving those long, lean fingers upon his skin… taunting him…

She stopped laughing abruptly, and he heard her intake of breath, a startled gasp, as though only now realizing their position.

His body hardened, though he tried to keep his lust restrained.

Seana peered up at him, startled to find herself beneath Colin so easily. Her heart began to pound, the sound like drums in the night. His skin was hot to the touch where her fingers met flesh, and she held her breath at the sensations that spiraled through her with the realization.

His blue eyes were luminous by the moonlight, piercing her heart, his hair silvery. It spilled, like molten gold, against her, caressing her face. His skin was pale against the darker beard that had begun to grow, making his face appear all the more chiseled.

Seana swallowed.

“’Tis good to hear ye laugh.”

Seana’s heart tripped against her ribs. She swallowed again. “ Aye, well… ’tis good… to laugh,” she whispered back.

“You are so beautiful, Seana,” he told her, and Seana had no chance to protest. She held her breath as he reached out to touch her. “And ye dinna need this…” He wiped his thumb against her lips, removing the paint, firmly at first, but then slowing to gentle caresses that Seana wouldn’t have stopped had she been able.

She was scarce able to keep her thoughts from scattering at his touch.

She couldn’t speak at all.

Closing her eyes, she savored the feel of his finger’s caress upon her lips. It stirred something deep inside her with every soft stroke, bringing her body to life in ways she’d never imagined.

Suddenly, everything seemed heightened… her sense of smell… the feeling of cool night air upon her skin… the dark sultry colors of night… the seductive mist… touching her body like cool whispery fingers… the deep blue-black blanket above them…

Seana drew in a breath, and lost herself in the imagery his touch evoked.

For the moment, it didn’t matter that Colin’s hands had loved so many women. At the instant, he was making her feel as though she were the only one. His touch cherished her, made her feel as she never had before…

She lifted her lashes to find him staring down into her face, his expression so intense that it made her want to weep. She couldn’t help herself… tears welled in her eyes.

“I’m afraid,” she said, and watched him swallow. Her lips began to tremble and she had no notion why. In that moment, she had no control over her emotions at all. It was as though they suddenly surged up from the depths of her to choke away her breath, and overwhelm her.

“I know.” He parted her lower lip tenderly and Seana opened her mouth for him… parted her lips unconsciously. Her head lolled backward as she felt him lower his body over her, until he was laying gently atop her. The sensation of it was so deliciously warm and heady that she swallowed hard enough to taste her tears in the back of her throat.

“What are ye afraid of, Seana?”

You,
she wanted to cry out.

She felt dizzy with the heat of his body. “Being alone,” she confessed, though with difficulty, because it betrayed more than she wished… if he only knew…

If only he understood that it was him she didn’t wish to live without…

He would flee with his tail between his legs to the next woman’s arms.

Och, God, she needed him in her life and the realization frightened her more, even, than her father’s death did. Colin had somehow managed to find a way into her heart.

“You’ll
never
be alone,” he swore. “You’ll die some day with grandbabies gathered all about ye.”

She couldn’t see that vision.

It wouldn’t appear to her.

A tear trickled down the side of her face, spilling into her hair.

“Dinna cry, lass.” His voice was soft and tender. “Dinna cry.”

And then he lowered his mouth to her cheek and gently lapped away the tears with his tongue.

Seana’s body quivered at the shock of his touch.

Desire warred with fear.

He kissed her cheek then, and moved to her lips, and Seana’s heart thudded to a halt.

He couldn’t help himself.

The desire to kiss her was too great, his need uncontainable.

Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, anticipating the first warm touch of her lovely tongue against his fevered lips. Her lips were softer than he imagined… and trembled sweetly for him.

She didn’t press her lips together to deny him, but neither did she part them, and he thought perhaps she didn’t know what to do.

“Open for me,” he whispered, and shuddered when she obeyed. “Och, lass,” he murmured and rolled his hips against her, savoring every delicious curve of her. “You feel so good…”

He sank his hands into her hair, cradling her head between his hands, pressing deeper into her mouth, tasting her, needing to be inside her.

Never had he wanted someone more.

He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, unable to stop himself, and groaned with pleasure when she offered him her sweet soft tongue.

Sweet.

Delicious.

He took her offering greedily, suckling her tongue gently, drinking in the heady nectar of her mouth. He wanted to devour her. Like the night mist, the scent of her surrounded him, weaving about his senses, filling his head with possessive thoughts he had never experienced so acutely.

He wanted her—wanted her to be his.