Craving the Highlander's Touch by Willingham Michelle Read Free Book Online Page A

sated and sweaty. He rolled her to her side, his mouth against her damp throat. There were no words for what he’d just given her. Unlike the times she’d shared Robert’s bed, she didn’t feel as if she’d disappointed Finian. He kept stroking her skin, murmuring endearments in Gaelic that she didn’t understand.
    And when she fell asleep against him, she felt contented.
    In the early hours of the morning, Finian awakened to find Alys snuggled within his arms. Her warm naked backside was nestled against him, and he pulled her closer, his body swelling with arousal. For the first time last night, nightmares hadn’t plagued him. He hadn’t dreamed of his daughter locked in chains. Nor had he relived the pain of the lash.
    Instead, he’d been given a gift he didn’t deserve. This beautiful, fragile woman had offered herself to him, wanting only to forget the dark shadow of her marriage. It didn’t seem real, and though he’d vowed his protection, never had he imagined that Alys would let him love her.
    He couldn’t stop thinking of the way she’d yielded to him, or the soft gasp when he’d filled her. Watching her succumb to the pleasure of lovemaking, letting her climax over and over, had taken last night beyond his understanding.
    But what if she wanted him to take her back to England? What if she wanted nothing more from him?
    He withdrew from her, trying to regain control over his body. He didn’t want her anywhere out of his sight. Though she might not know it, by letting him join with her, she’d sealed her fate. He wasn’t going to let this woman go.
    And that meant he had to take her away from here before the English soldiers returned. Quietly, he rose from the bed and dressed. He picked up her gown and leaned down to kiss her awake.
    The softness of sleep clung to her face, but Alys yielded when his mouth coaxed her to open. The tentative touch of her tongue made him slide his own against hers, deepening the embrace.
    Finian pulled back the coverlet, and she clung to him, making him wish he could love her once more before they left. “Alys,” he said against her mouth. “We have to leave.”
    He pulled back and it took her a moment to realize where she was. Her face grew worried, as if she’d suddenly regretted the way she’d given herself to him.
    He said nothing of it, helping her to don her shift and gown. Alys dressed quickly, finding her shoes and following him to his daughter’s chamber. “Gather your kinsmen,” she said, “and I’ll follow with Iliana and my maid.”
    Finian went below stairs and woke his brother, alerting the others. With Brochain at his side, they went to the gate house where his kinsman Alan stood watch.
    “Was there any sign of the garrison?” Finian asked.
    “No. It’s been silent all night.”
    “Good.” Reaching for a torch, Finian ordered, “We’re going to take the women by horseback, keeping to the hills. We’ll have to pass by Harkirk’s soldiers on the way to Moristerry.” Though he didn’t know if it was safe to return to their lands, it was the only home they had.
    Behind him, he heard the footsteps of the women. Iliana wore warm clothing that was slightly too big for her, no doubt given to her by Alys.
    “Are you ready?” Finian asked.
    They nodded. Silently, they passed through the gates, Iliana and Jeanne sharing a horse. Finian swept Alys up on horseback, riding behind her. To Brochain, he ordered, “If any threat occurs, take the women and return to Moristerry. I’ll stand guard with the others.”
    Alys stiffened at the mention of an attack, but Finian held her close as he drew the horse into the woods edging the hills.
    “I never even looked for the silver,” she said, under her breath. “Do you suppose Sir Geoffrey was right?”
    “It doesn’t matter. We’ll return to Moristerry and if they want it, they can search for it themselves.”
    They rode through the valley, toward the English garrison that would soon emerge in front