Would he hear the same respect in his father’s voice once he delivered the package?
Owen made a fire and kept a lookout for Aileene’s attacker. The man could return with another weapon or with some friends. But Owen doubted it. The man would probably assume Owen had continued on his way and so had Aileene. Owen had had his fair share of adventures with servant girls and willing farmers’ daughters, but this lass… No one had ever looked at him with such admiration and gratitude.
He was the joker in the family, irresponsible and left to his own devices. He was surprised when the MacDougalls gave him the sack of gold he had now hidden among other pouches on his horse’s back. But he was honored. Finally, he had a chance to prove his worth to his clan.
King John Balliol was a guest at Innes Chonnel, the Cambel clan seat. Owen couldn’t wait to see his father’s astonished face, as well as his brothers’. Craig and Domhnall would surely be surprised. Mayhap, his life had turned around today. Mayhap, his father would finally agree to take him into battle.
Aileene sat by the fire, massaging her ankle. Owen gave her a piece of bread and cheese.
“Thank ye,” she said as she took them from him. Their hands touched, and her eyes lingered on him. Her gaze moved down his tunic and even farther south to the front of his trousers. Was she really suggesting something? She’d just been attacked. Was she really ready?
Aileene broke eye contact and bit into the bread and cheese.
“I want to thank ye,” she said. “I need the silver to buy a potion for my sick father. Ye may have saved his life as well.”
Owen shrugged. “Nae need to thank me.”
She took out a bottle out of her basket. “I make delicious berry wine and am on my way to trade it in the neighboring village. I’d love for ye to have a bottle. Would ye like some?”
“Aye.” Owen grinned. “I never refuse a fine wine.”
She smiled back, dimples forming at her cheeks. She removed the cork and handed the bottle to him.
“Sláinte,” he said and sipped. The wine was sweet and not very strong, and Owen drank more, suddenly thirsty. They shared the bottle and the food and chatted. Aileene was a lovely woman, and Owen sensed she was enjoying his company. She kept throwing those lingering glances at him, and he knew what they meant. He was all for it, but he also didn’t want to take advantage of her.
His head was pleasantly spinning from the wine and her company. She kept rubbing her ankle, wincing from time to time.
“Do ye ken anything about healing?” she said. “My ankle ails me.”
Owen licked his lips, his mouth dry. “I can look at it if ye want?”
“Would ye?”
“Aye, but are ye certain? ‘Tis nae proper… And that man…”
“I trust ye.”
She leaned back and stretched her leg out to him. He sat closer, his groin already starting to warm, his cock waking as he imagined her smooth skin against his fingers. He took her foot in his hands and pushed the edge of her skirt up, revealing a white, delicate ankle. There was a scratch there, although not a deep one, and he covered it with his hand. He massaged the foot gently. Her soft skin against his rough palms set fire burning in his blood.
He swallowed and looked up at her face. Her lips were parted, and from under her lashes, her eyes were dark with desire.
“There’s nothing ye can do against my will, because I’m willing for anything.”
Owen cursed under his breath. Even if there’d been an army of angry, barrel-chested men here now, he couldn’t stop.
He put her leg back on the ground and crawled up to her. He kissed her, and she answered back, their tongues lashing in a sweet battle. He was hard. He’d never been so hard in his life. His cock as solid as a rock.
His mind filled with fog that smelled like berry wine, sweet, female skin, and grass.
He woke with a jolt and sat up. The woods were dark around him in, his fire already out. His head hurt, every pulsation of blood in his temples brought pain. He looked around. Where had Aileene gone? His trousers were still down, and his cock was still hard and ready to go. What sort of witchcraft was that?
“Aileene?” Owen called, rubbing his face. Mayhap she’d gone to take care of business.
Owen closed his trousers over the uncomfortable erection and stood up. Everything swayed and swam.
“Aileene?” he repeated.
Her basket was gone. Should he feel hurt she left without saying goodbye? How had he fallen asleep like that? How had it gotten so dark so quickly?
He looked at his horse, and his back chilled.
The purse with the gold was gone. She’d taken it. And she’d left. How would he find her in this darkness, with his head swaying like a banner on the wind?
This was bad. This was worse than anything he’d ever done. Worse than stealing his brother’s clothes when they were bathing. Worse than drinking half a cask of uisge and accidentally hitting the estate’s best-producing ram while shooting arrows at the targets in the darkness. Worse than taking the virginity of the Mackintosh’s daughter. He might still need to marry the lass if the truth ever came out.
What a fool he was. What a fool! And why the hell had his cock not calmed down yet? That had never happened before. He didn’t feel excited at the slightest.
He should never trust himself to take good decisions. He should have known she’d steal from him. Mayhap, the entire attack had been a plot?
He’d never find her now. Too much time must have passed.
He’d
