encircling his neck with her arms, her tongue matching his stroke for stroke. Rory groaned. Her passionate response was al he hoped for. He had thought he imagined it that first night with her in his bed, thought he’d been hal ucinating with the pain, but feeling her now beneath him, he knew it wasn’t so. She was everything he remembered: giving, sensual, and responsive. It was nothing like it had been with Brianna. Because his wife had been so delicate, so very fragile, the few times they’d made love Rory had been reluctant to unleash the ful strength of his desire. With Aileanna there would be no need to hold back.
He deepened the kiss, making love to her with his mouth. She arched her back, her lush curves pressed ful against him, and his fierce hunger for her drove the guilt from his mind. Lifting his mouth from hers, he pressed a kiss to her eyes, the curve of her cheek, and the corner of her lips; trailed kisses along the delicate line of her jaw while he worked at the buttons of her gown in an effort to get to the slender elegance of her neck. He kissed every inch of pearly white flesh exposed with each button he opened. She speared her fingers through his hair, drawing his mouth back to hers. Her kiss was hot and wet. He plundered her mouth, taking everything she offered and more—losing himself, forgetting everything but Aileanna and how he wanted her, needed her. The words echoed in his head, need her . . . need her. Like an icy bucket of water they cooled his desire. As though sens ing his retreat, Aileanna stiffened beneath him.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked. Her concern was obvious, and she gently brushed her fingertips over the heated flesh near his wound.
LORD OF THE ISLES
105
Rory rol ed onto his side and brought her hand to his lips, taking the excuse she offered him. “’Twil be fine.”
Her brow furrowed and she drew away from him, touch
ing his forehead, his cheek, before she began to prod near his wound. “No, it won’t, not if you don’t take better care of yourself.”
He took a firm hold of her wrist to stop those insistent fingers of hers from traveling lower. Without interference from his head, his body readily responded to her. “Speak
in’ of wounds, I take it Mrs. Mac didna’ have a chance to see to yers.”
She gave him a questioning look, then slowly pul ed her
self up from the bed, turning away from him, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes. “Please, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
She sat on the edge of the mattress, stiffening when he laid a hand upon her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Aileanna, it’s just—”
She released a heavy sigh. “It’s because this is your wife’s room, isn’t it?”
Rory groaned. Stomach churning, he rose from the bed. Bloody hel , he’d nearly taken another woman in his wife’s chambers. He couldn’t think straight around Aileanna. With an effort conceived of desperation, he hardened his resolve and his heart, doing his best to ignore the compas
sion he saw in her tear-swol en eyes. Eyes he could easily lose himself in. Knowing the danger she posed, he forced himself to say,
“I ken you wish to return to yer kin but have no memory of them, so I took the liberty of makin’ an inquiry on yer behalf to Angus Graham. If anyone wil have the answers,
’twil be him. I expect word shortly.”
Aileanna looked startled. “Why . . . why did you do that?”
She smoothed her hand over her gown, avoiding his gaze. 106
Rory frowned. Unsure why, her response gave him pause. “Is there somethin’ yer no’ tel in’ me, Aileanna?”
She shook her head, eyes averted. “No.”
With his fingers beneath her chin he forced her gaze to his. “Aileanna, I’m warnin’ you—doona’ keep anythin’
from me.”
He’d made her angry. The stubborn jut of her chin gave her away, as did the temper that brought out the midnight blue of her eyes. He’d seen it before—both passion and anger turned them that same shade of violet blue. If it wasn’t a matter of importance, he would’ve laughed. She stood up to him, closing what little distance there was between them. “Don’t you threaten me, Rory MacLeod, just because you feel guilty for wanting me, be cause for a few minutes you forgot your precious Brianna.”
Tears and fury glittered in her eyes. “It was only lust. It happens. But don’t worry, it’l never happen again. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my room. As Mrs. Mac said, it isn’t proper.” She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around her waist.
He’d made a mess of it, but she was right. It was only lust.
Chapter 9
Ali sat huddled with Fergus and Iain at a table in the hal , picking at the big bowl of porridge in front of her. She gri maced as she tried to swal ow the mouthful without a swig of ale. It was difficult to get past her modern- day sensibil ities, and ale at eight in the morning was one of them, even if it was watered down.
“Is somethin’ wrong with yer parritch?” Iain asked. She held up her spoon. The oats stuck like glue no matter how hard she tried to shake them off. “You can’t convince me Cook isn’t doing his best to kil me.”
Both men guffawed. Ali smiled, a little surprised that she could. After last night, she didn’t think she’d ever smile again. Learning Mari had been handed over to the priest be
