“I remember this room,” Alistair said in a soft voice, stepping closer to the bed. “Once, when I tried to climb the curtain wall and fell, Moira brought me here to clean my cuts.”
There was little to say except, “Aye,” then she cleared her throat. “My mother and I share this chamber now. Ye and I can talk; we willnae be disturbed.”
“Except by yer mother?”
Lara glanced at the empty wall beside the hearth. From here it appeared normal, but she knew it hid an entrance to the secret passages throughout the castle. “Nay,” she said slowly. “My mother will no’ be back this evening. She’s found another bed.”
‘Twas not an uncommon occurrence, and it had never bothered Lara before. But now, she was curious about the truth of Alistair’s theory—Nessa’s too—about the laird being Mam’s lover.
At the news they were alone, Alistair blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I shouldnae have asked ye such an intimate question in front of others. I should’ve waited until we were alone.”
“But we wouldnae be alone if ye hadnae asked me such an intimate question,” she pointed out.
A grin flashed across his lips, though it was there and gone in an instant. “True.”
Lara wasn’t the kind of person to avoid the issue at hand. “Why does my virginity matter to ye, Alistair?”
His hands curled into fists by his sides, and he stood statue-still, staring at her. She could see his brain whirling behind his eyes, trying to come up with an acceptable answer.
“Dinnae feel ye need to lie to me,” she commanded softly.
At her words, she saw the slightest softening of the muscles along his jaw and neck.
“What ye did, Lara, in my solar…”
“Ye dinnae like it?”
He relaxed further at the challenge in her voice. “Ye ken I did. And I ken ye knew exactly what ye were doing. I dinnae care that ye’re no’ a virgin, Lara. I care that ye’ve given yer heart to a man who’s taken what ye offered, but hasnae married ye yet.”
Her pulse had sped up when he’d admitted he’d liked what they’d shared, and it continued to pound in her temples as he spoke. He believed she was experienced, so did that mean he’d be willing to continue her experience?
But then the last part caught up with her brain. He believed she’d had sex with another man—the man she’d confessed she loved!
The irony, of course, wasn’t lost on her. She’d never been with a man, but she knew exactly what she liked. And as for the one who held her heart…?
Well, he was currently standing in her room, beside her bed, watching her hungrily.
This was her chance. Her chance to grab the pleasure she’d always known she wanted.
Trying for a seductive expression—and hoping it didn’t make her look as if her bowels were obstructed—Lara reached nonchalantly for her kirtle’s ties. “Ye care, Alistair? Ye’d care if I was hurt by some man’s actions?”
His gaze had dropped to her hands, but now snapped up to meet her eyes. “Of course I’d care!” As if ‘twas against his will, his eyes wandered down to where she’d loosened her overdress to pull it down over her shoulders. “I cannae stand the thought of ye being treated like that. Ye being”—his tongue flashed over his lips as she shrugged out of the gown—“hurt.”
Lara hummed speculatively as she stepped out of her dress. “ ’Tis nice to hear my virginity is no’ what actually matters to ye.”
As she crossed to hang the gown on one of the hooks, she felt his eyes on her. Then she kicked out of her slippers, placed one foot on a stool and began to pull up her chemise to untie her stockings. When she glanced at him, he was staring at her leg.
“Nay,” he croaked, and she smiled.
“Good.” Deftly, she pulled down both stockings, loving that he was watching her perform such an intimate task, then smiled seductively at him. “Because there’s nae reason a woman cannae ken her own body, and ken what she likes,” she declared, as she straightened and began to move toward him.
He was still stiff, in more ways than one. Her grin turned pleased when she glanced at the front of his kilt and saw he was as aroused as she was.
When she reached him, she tilted her head back and reached for the ties at the neckline of her chemise.
“What are ye doing?” he rasped.
She blinked, pretending innocence. “Why, showing ye what I like of course.”
His gaze had dropped to the skin she was revealing, and when she finished with the ties, her chemise gaped open. She felt the cool air on her nipples and didn’t bother to hide her shiver. Nay, instead she stepped closer to him.
“What do ye like, Lara?” he managed to whisper, his gaze still on her skin.
“Ye,” she said simply, reaching to pull the chemise’s gaping neckline further. “I want ye to touch me. Here.”
His eyes flicked back up to catch hers. “Ye’re certain?”
“Make love to me, Alistair,” she commanded.
The command was what he’d needed apparently. With a noise which might’ve been a groan of surrender, Alistair’s hands came up—no longer curled into fists, but reaching—and closed around her naked breasts.
They both sucked in a breath then, and she tossed her head back with a moan.
His hands were on her skin. He was touching her in the most intimate way, and—
“Lara,” he rasped, “I cannae.”
To hell with that! Her eyes snapped open. “Ye can.”
“This isnae what ye want. Yer heart belongs to another. Dinnae use me to cover the pain of his rejection.”
Oh the dear, sweet fool!
His hands were still cupping her tits, but his expression was intent as he searched her eyes. “I cannae take advantage of ye like this, Lara.”
She smiled at his honor, even as she was reaching for him. She wrapped her fingers in the hair above his ears and tugged.
“Alistair,” she murmured, her lips inches from
