The Highlander's Touch

Page 70

He took a deep breath. “That I will devote my life to making it up to you. That I wish to wed you and will see you well cared for.”
Lisa averted her gaze, mortified to feel tears threatening.
He stepped back, sensing that she was fighting for control. “That was all I wished to say, lass. I will leave you to your walk now. I merely wished to be certain you knew how I felt.”
“Thank you,” she said. As she watched him retreat, a part of her longed to summon him back, to make small, idle talk and while away the sunny afternoon, but tears still came too easily.
After he’d gone she continued strolling, drawn to explore her new home. She soaked up the warm rays, stopping periodically to examine small buds and unusual foliage. It occurred to her that since she was to stay there, she could finally do something she’d longed to do for years—she could have a puppy. She’d always wanted a dog but their apartment had been too small. When she returned to the castle, she would ask Circenn if he knew of any recent litters in the village.
As she approached the bothy, she realized she was going to survive. Her normal feelings were returning, her customary optimism, her desire to be involved in the world and to explore it. She wondered what a bothy actually was. A storehouse? A workshop? Turning the handle, she opened the door open and quietly stepped inside.
Duncan Douglas stood there, nude, his back to her. My God, she thought. Not Circenn, but certainly remarkable. Overwhelmingly curious about all things sensual, she was unable to look away. An equally unclothed maid was pressed between his body and the wall. The maid’s cheek was flush to the wooden wall and her palms were flattened against it above her head, with Duncan’s strong hands covering them. His hips bucked against her, pushing into her from behind.
Lisa wet her lips and breathed softly. She knew she should slip out quietly before they realized they’d been observed.
In just a minute, she told herself, cheeks flaming. Her gaze dropped from his wide shoulders to his waist, over a muscled, tight ass that flexed as he pounded into her. Lisa couldn’t move, assaulted by erotic images of Circenn doing the same to her.
“Oh, my heavens.” She was so fascinated, the words escaped her before she could spare thought to prevent them.
They both turned to look at her at the same moment. The maid shrieked. The outrageous Duncan merely grinned. “Oops,” he said nonchalantly.
Lisa fled the bothy.
At least now she knew what the ancients had used the outbuilding for.
Privacy.
* * *
The days passed quickly, in a haze of warm sunny mornings and afternoons spent with Duncan, who took her on tours of the castle and estate, and quiet evenings spent with Circenn over scrumptious dinners.
Circenn had been noticeably absent during the afternoons, neither training with his men nor present around the castle, and as they finished dessert that night she inquired about it.
“Come.” He rose from the table and motioned for her to follow. “I have something for you, Lisa. I hope it pleases you.”
She let him tuck her arm through his and guide her down a corridor she hadn’t yet explored. It led to the end of the east wing, down winding and narrow stone hallways, through high arched doors, and up a circular stone staircase. He paused outside the door to a tower and removed a key from his sporran.
“I hope you doona think I have …” He blew out a sigh, looking uncomfortable. “Lass, this seemed an excellent idea when I struck upon it, but now I have some concerns. …”
“What?” she asked, perplexed.
“Have you ever come up with an idea that you think will make someone happy, then when it is time to give it to them you worry if perhaps you were wrong?”
“Did you make something for me?” she asked, recalling the flecks of wood dust she’d glimpsed him brushing off his tartan the day before.
“Aye,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But it suddenly occurred to me that if I doona know you as well as I think I do, it may make you sad.”
“Well, I’ll just have to see it,” she said, slipping the key from his hand.
Whatever he’d done, he’d pleased her simply by caring, and thinking about her, not to mention investing his time in labor with the intent to please her. Aside from her parents and Ruby, she’d received few impulsive gifts in her lifetime, and never one someone had fashioned by hand.
Curious, she inserted the key in the door, opened it, and stepped inside. Dozens of candles flickered, filling the room with a warm glow. The ceiling rose and met in a high wooden arch, and there were small benches strewn about. At the front of the room, before four beautifully colored windows, was a flat slab mounted on a thick base of stone—an altar. She realized he’d brought her to his private place of worship.