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Chapter Six

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"Find anything?" Lyall asked Gil, as his warlord and two of his other men rode into the bailey at Teineaer Castle and dismounted. He had sent them out at first light, and they were returning at the end of gloaming.

Gil shook his shaggy head of red hair, reminding Lyall of a mangy dog in the rain. "Nay. The snow has covered whatever tracks the horse left."

His warlord was one of few men whose height paralleled his own, and unlike many of the others, was not afraid to look him in the eye, though his eternal questioning of Lyall's orders was likened to a stone stuck in the chief's craw—sometimes hard to swallow. "I was certain you'd find the MacGregor lass trampled to death."

Gil frowned, as he looked up at the dark grey sky. "If she was, then we'll have to wait until the snow melts to find her."

A strong wind swept through the bailey and howled around the castle. Lyall drew his cloak tightly about his shoulders. "I dinnae intend on staying at this Godforsaken place that long. Tell the men we'll be leaving first thing on the morrow, whether it be snowing or not." Many of his clansmen had left the day after they had attacked the castle, including his incompetent nephew, Dougal, but he had wanted to make certain that blasted stallion was not roaming about, or he and the rest would have gone along with them.

He had never before given a damn what happened to a horse, but this particular one was worth a great deal, as well as being the best warhorse he had ever owned. The stallion belonged to him, and no one—especially a MacGregor—was going to take what was his. "Have them ready the finest stallion in the stables for the ride back to Kilchurn Castle." For the time being, he would have to make do with whatever horse was available.

"Aye," Gil said, "I'll be more than glad to get home. My belly has been growling for an hour. The men and I are going to find a bite to eat."

Lyall snorted. "Good luck to you. I had to settle for stale bread one of the men found stuffed in his pack. I'm sick of this wretched castle." But all the planning and loss of men had been worth it, for destroying James MacGregor and his clan would gain him much favor with the king. He frowned. And once he found MacGregor's daughter, he would destroy her as well.

***

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ALEX LAY IN BED, STARING into the darkness. What was it that had awakened him? The wind? Perhaps he had been dreaming. He shuddered. The fire was almost out, and the room had grown cold. He tossed back the covers and added peat to the still glowing embers, bringing the flames back to life. As he returned to bed, he heard weeping coming from Ceana's bedchamber, and it tore at his heart. He pulled on his shirt, which reached well below his knees, wrapped his cloak around him, and lightly tapped on the door between their rooms. The weeping instantly ceased. "Ceana, may I come in?"

"Aye," she said, after a moment's hesitation.

He opened the door and entered her bedchamber. "I heard you weeping, lass. I'm here if you need to talk." He took a seat in the chair near the bed. The tears on her lovely cheeks glistened in the firelight, and Alex gripped the chair arms to keep from reaching out and wiping them away.

Ceana dried her eyes on the sleeve of her nightgown, noticing how unbelievably attractive Alex was with his long dark hair wild and loose about his broad shoulders. He had been so kind to her. She wanted naught more than to trust him—to tell him what had happened to her family and her home—but fear kept her from it. Perhaps she could tell him some, if not all, of what had transpired.

She took a deep breath to steady herself before speaking. "My father and mother were viciously murdered." Somehow, saying it aloud made it all the more real, and she once again burst into tears.

He moved to the bed and wrapped his arms around her, comforting her, while she wept against his chest until she had no more tears to shed. Long after she had stopped crying, he still held her, the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek a reminder that she was safe and protected in his strong arms. A few minutes later, she reluctantly raised her head from his chest and looked up at him. "I'm sorry to have awakened you."

Alex gently brushed away a tear with his thumb, and her breath caught. "No matter, lass." He slowly leaned toward her, his gaze dropping to her mouth, just before he gently brushed his lips across hers. He growled softly as he grasped her shoulders and deepened the kiss.

Ceana trembled. She had been kissed before but never had she felt the way Alex was making her feel. She slid her arms around his neck, drawing him closer, kissing him back.

He suddenly let go of her and jumped up from the bed. "I'm sorry, Ceana," he said, his gaze fastened on the ceiling above the bed.

"Sorry? For what?"

"I took advantage of you in your time of sorrow, and I should not have." He raked his fingers through his long hair, and she ached to do the same.

She shook her head. "I believe I should be the judge of that, and I dinnae feel that way at all. "I quite enjoyed what you did."

Alex grinned. "I enjoyed it as well, lass."

Her face heated.

"In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I'd best leave before I'm tempted to kiss you again," he teased—though she truly wanted him to. "I bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight—Alex."

"Ceana?"

"Aye?"

"Before I return to my bed, there's something I'd like to ken. Who murdered your parents and for what reason?"

Ceana's heart pounded. Though she wanted to tell him, her fear kept her from it. She turned her gaze to the fire, biting her bottom lip to keep from saying more.

He nodded toward Duff and Ross, their massive frames stretched out asleep before the fire. "Then tell me, do the wolfhounds belong to you?"

She held her tongue. Though she had no idea how Alex had acquired the dogs, if she admitted they did indeed belong to her he might somehow be able to trace them back to Teineaer Castle—and the MacGregors.

He blew out a long breath. "Goodnight, lass, and sleep well." He started back to his bedchamber, then stopped. "I have something that belongs to you," he said, then exited the room, and quickly returned.

Ceana wondered what it could be, then he handed her the pouch.

"'Twas fastened to the horse you were riding."

"I thank you for giving it to me."

"I promise you, naught has been taken, but I did look at the contents. The portraits, are they of your parents?"

She nodded, trying her best not to burst into tears, as she took out the locket and opened it. "'Tis all I have left of them," she said, staring at her loving parent's likenesses. A sob escaped her, and Alex sat down on the bed beside Ceana and pulled her against him.

"Ceana, I wish I could somehow take away your pain, for I ken it well."

"I thank you for that." She looked up into Alex's eyes, so deep and dark and full of emotion.

He bent his head, and ever so gently brushed his lips across hers, and it took her breath away.

Without uttering another word, he rose from the bed, entered his own bedchamber, and closed the door, leaving her to stare after him.

Ceana lay back on the bolster and drew the covers up to her chin. The first kiss they had shared—that had been passion, clear and simple. But the last, that had been something completely different and had taken her by surprise.

Perhaps she should not have allowed him to kiss her at all because naught could ever become of it. Ceana was not daft. She knew there would come a time when she would have no choice but to tell Alex the truth. And when she did, would he hate her for having been born a MacGregor?

***

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A WEEK LATER, THE SNOW had stopped falling, and sunlight glistened across the landscape like millions of tiny shards of glass. Snow crunched beneath Alex's boots, as he made his way to the stables to check on the horses, especially the three mares he had bred to Cin MacLeod's stallion, Shadowmere. Each one was nigh ready to give birth, and he wished to make certain all was proceeding as it should.

His own stallion, Jet—named for the deep black of his coat, like the gemstone of the same color—snorted and tossed his head when Alex pushed open the stable door.

He smiled. "Glad to see me, are you, lad?" He closed the door, then scratched the horse behind his ears and beneath his chin.

Jet tugged at his cloak, until Alex chuckled, and gave the horse the first of two oatcakes he had brought along with him.

"Morn, laird," Fergus shouted from the hayloft, before climbing down the ladder.

"Good morn. How are the mares doing?"

The stablemaster frowned, as he scratched his head of shaggy white hair. "Bonnie and Elspeth are doing well, but wee Saidear is off her feed. No matter what I do, she refuses to eat."

Alex exhaled loudly. He had no wish to lose such a fine mare, and her offspring as well. "I'll return in a few moments," he said, then left the stable and headed back to the castle. He hurried up the stairs and knocked on Ceana's bedchamber door.

"Aye?"

"'Tis Alex."

"Come."

He entered the room, leaving the door ajar, and as always, was captivated by the sight of her.

She sat on the window seat, where he had placed her earlier, with her feet propped up on several cushions. Her dark-brown hair curled wildly about her face and over her shoulders.

Every day he carried Ceana from her bed to the window seat, and from the window seat to the bed, each time, groaning inwardly at the intense desire she aroused in him. It had been over a week since he had tasted the sweetness of her full lips, and the urge to do so again was nigh overpowering whenever she was near. "I've a favor to ask of you, lass."

Her eyes widened. "What is it?"

"I've a wee mare, Saidear, who refuses to eat. She's with foal and in much need of the nourishment. You've a special way with animals; I've seen it myself. I was hoping you might try to get her to eat."

"Of course, but how will I get to the stables?"

"I'll carry you." The thought of holding Ceana in his arms again sent a rush of heat to his loins.

Her cheeks pinked. "I'd like to see Cree, as well."

"I'll see that you do." He helped her into her cloak and gloves, then took a thick wool blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her legs and bare feet. "'Tis freezing out there and I dinnae wish your feet to suffer further damage."

"I thank you for your concern." Ceana slipped her arms around his neck, as he effortlessly lifted her from the seat. The muscles of his shoulders, arms and chest felt like stone, something she found most pleasurable.

He carried her to the door. "You'll have to open it yourself." He grinned. "I'm afraid I have my hands full."

She caught the edge of the door and pushed it all the way back, then he carried her out into the corridor and down the stairs. People stared, but no one said a word as they passed through the great hall, on their way out of the castle. A blast of icy wind hit her, and she buried her face against his throat, the frigid cold all but forgotten as she breathed in his alluring male scent.

"James, let us in," he shouted, as they reached the stables.

The boy pushed open the wooden panel, his eyes widening as his gaze fell upon Ceana. Once they were inside, he closed it again, leaving the freezing wind outside.

"Fetch something for the lady to sit on and place it in front of Saidear's stall."

James nodded, disappeared, then quickly returned with a three-legged stool, and put it where Alex had indicated.

An older man climbed down from the loft, his brows, which reminded Ceana of two wee bushy squirrel tails, were raised in question.

Alex carefully placed her on the seat, leaving Ceana to miss the warmth of his body. She looked up at James. "Please open the door and hand me her oats."

"Aye, m'lady." He took the mare's feed bucket from the hook inside her stall and gave it to her.

She studied the chestnut horse, noting her abdomen, greatly enlarged with the new life growing inside her. She pulled off her gloves, then reached out and gently rubbed Saidear's velvety nose. "All will be well, bonnie lass," she whispered softly. "The wee bairn you carry needs you to have your oats."

Saidear took a step closer and leaned her head against Ceana's shoulder. She pressed her forehead against the mare's soft cheek and began to hum softly. She took a handful of oats from the bucket and held them out to her. The horse snorted, blowing a portion from her hand. But as she continued to hum, the horse slowly began to mouth the oats. After taking a second portion from Ceana's hand, the mare began to eat from the bucket.

Alex immediately recognized the lullaby she had been humming. His mother sang it to his sister and him when they were very small. Her voice was mesmerizing, and he felt for a moment as if he had slipped from reality, as he watched what transpired between the lass and the mare.

Ceana patted Saidear's neck, while the horse finished off the oats. She smiled up at Alex and his chest tightened until he could hardly breathe.

"'Tis time I took you back to the castle," he said, anxious to have her in his arms.

"Very well. Goodbye, Saidear." She patted the horse's neck.

Saidear whinnied and nuzzled her cheek.

"Before I go, I'd like to visit Cree." She glanced about. "Where is he?"

Alex opened his mouth the tell her, but it was Fergus who spoke. "We moved him to another stable—used for the stallions. 'Tis a much larger stall he's now in, and he appears much calmer. At least he's not tried to bite anyone today."

"Oh. Then I'd like to see him, please."

Alex lifted her from the stool, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, then he carried her outside, and to another stable. He stopped in front of the door.

Fergus quickly opened it, and Alex carried Ceana inside.

Though the stallion was secure inside his stall, he was wary of getting Ceana too close to the beast. He had witnessed firsthand the damage he was capable of inflicting.

Cree stood in a corner, pawing at the ground. He suddenly raised his head and sniffed the air, then whinnied, spun around, and hurried over, his gaze fastened on Ceana. Saints above! He had known she was there!

"Take me closer, please," she said, teary-eyed.

He hesitated a moment, before slowly moving forward. He did not trust the animal as much as she apparently did.

Before he could stop her, Ceana leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the horse's massive head. "Thank you, Cree, for getting me here safely," she said, scratching him beneath his broad chin.

The horse whinnied softly and pressed his head into her shoulder.

Alex watched, perplexed as to how she could handle such a devil so easily.

"I'm so sorry I've not been to see you before now," she explained, "but I'm afraid I'm unable to walk—at least for the time being."

The animal snorted, then nibbled at her cheek, while Alex's heart pounded against his ribs, fearing the horse would take a bite out of Ceana's beautiful face. But to his surprise, no such thing happened. The stallion remained as calm as a newborn lamb, while she talked to and petted him.

Fergus and James stood at the door looking completely bewildered by the scene taking place before them.

"Ceana, I fear you will come down with fever if I dinnae get you back to the warmth of the castle."

"Very well," she said, her gaze on Cree. She scratched his nose. "I have to go now, but I'll return soon." She kissed him between the eyes. "I love you, Cree. Behave yourself. These kind people are taking good care of you."

Cree tossed his head.

Alex raised a brow. If he had not known better, he would have believed the canny stallion knew exactly what she was saying.

She smiled up at Alex. "I thank you for allowing me to see him. I wanted him to ken I'd not forgotten what he did for me."

Ceana was an amazing woman, with a heart as big as the sun. Her kindness to both people and animals said much about the sort of woman she was. On the way out of the stable, he stopped in front of Jet's stall. "This is my horse, Jet, the finest horse I've ever had the pleasure of riding."

She reached out and patted the stallion's nose. "What a beautiful horse. I can see you take great care of him."

"Aye, I do. Now, 'tis time for me to get you back." He nodded to James, who ran on ahead and opened the door. Alex stepped out into the snow and onto the path leading up to the castle.

She took a deep breath and looked out over the snow-blanketed landscape. "Tis so beautiful."

"Aye, and treacherous, as you, unfortunately, found out."

She nodded, but a smile continued to curve the corners of her full mouth. "May I come back to see Saidear and Cree on the morrow? You'll not have to bring me. One of the servants can do it."

Alex stiffened. The thought of any man but himself carrying her—feeling the way he did while he held her against him—infuriated him. Nay. He would be the one to bring her. "I dinnae mind, for I'm at the stable several times a day checking on the mares." And besides, he enjoyed naught more than having her in his arms.

Ceana studied Alex, as he carried her into the castle and up to her bedchamber. He was so attractive, with his finely chiseled features, and superbly shaped mouth. She remembered with absolute clarity what it was like to have his lips pressed against hers. A woman did not forget something so profound as a kiss from a handsome Highland warrior. Simply thinking about their previous encounter caused the heat to rise in her cheeks, and she prayed he would think it was the cold wind that pinked them.

When they reached the door to her bedchamber, she opened it, then he carried her into the room. "You must be weary, after your outing to the stables," he said, with her still in his arms. "Would you like for me to put you on the bed, so you might take a rest?"

"Aye. I could perhaps use one before the midday meal."

When he bent to place her on the bed, their gazes locked. Her breath hitched, and her heart pounded as his dark gaze dropped to her mouth—a moment before he gently brushed his lips across hers.

As wonderful as it was, Ceana wanted more and kissed him back with wild abandon.

He stiffened, then a soft growl escaped him, before he covered her mouth, teasing hers open with his tongue.

Her body heated as if she stood much too close to the flames. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, seeking to satisfy a craving she did not understand.

Daft with desire, Alex kissed the side of her mouth, the soft spot beneath her chin, the base of her throat. He wanted her, and his body told him to take her, to satisfy the hunger that threatened to drive him insane, but he would not allow that need to destroy Ceana's innocence. He raised his head and looked down at her.

With quickened breaths, and eyes dark with a want that mirrored his own, Ceana met his gaze, and for a long moment, they stayed that way. A war waged inside Alex as he reluctantly pulled her arms from around his neck and got to his feet. "Please forgive me." He stepped away from the bed.

Wide-eyed with wonder, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen from his kisses, she raised herself on her elbows. "Please, dinnae go," she pleaded, her voice thick with an ache he understood all too well.

Did she not know what she was asking of him? By the saints, he wanted to stay, to finished what they had started, to satisfy his own craving, as well as that he saw in Ceana's eyes, but his conscience would not allow it.

Alex shook his head. "Nay. You hardly ken who I am, and I'll not take your innocence to satisfy my own needs. Good night." He left her bedchamber and headed down the stairs. He had to get outside, put some distance between himself and the lass. As he stepped out into the bailey, a realization as solid as a stone struck him between the eyes. While he had been with Ceana, not once had Rowena entered his thoughts. He was grateful to her for that, but still, a pang of guilt clawed at him as he headed back to the stables.

***

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WITH THE WARMTH OF his mouth lingering on her lips, Ceana closed her eyes, turning over and over in her mind every detail of what had just happened between her and Alex. Never had any man caused her to feel in such a positively wanton way. She knew enough about what went on between a man and a woman to understand what it would have meant for him to lie with her, after all, she had seen almost twenty summers—and still, she had asked him to stay, surprising even herself by her boldness. Of course, when she had done so, she had not been herself at all, but a woman with needs she never even knew she had.

But Alex had been a gentleman and had refused her, in order to preserve her innocence. Had that truly been the reason for his sudden departure, or had his lingering love for Rowena driven him away?