“Aye,and I mean to learn how ye played that trick. If ye think to afrighten me, itwillnae work.”
“Towhat purpose should I wish to afrighten you?”
“Whocan understand the workings of a woman’s mind?”
“Opinionssuch as that could cause ye a great deal of trouble at Dunweare, sir.”
“Andideas such as yours can cause ye a great deal of trouble.”
SuddenlyRuari was angry and, to his astonishment, afraid for her. He reached out,grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her close. Her closeness proved adistraction. He became intensely aware of her clean scent, the touch oflavender that wafted from her hair and clothes. Her thick, dark braid rested onhis chest, and he could all too easily envision it undone, its silken wavescaressing his skin. When he realized he was staring at her full mouth,hungering for a taste of her lips, he forced his thoughts back to the matter athand. He could not believe she was mad or simpleminded, so she had to besuffering delusions bred of her kinsmen’s wild tales. It was time someone madeher aware of how lethal such delusions could be in a land rife withsuperstition.
“Iam fully aware that my gifts are not widely accepted,” Sorcha murmured.
“Notwidely accepted? Such a gentle way of speaking, especially from a lass who hasproven to have a sharp, stinging tongue. Such ideas can get ye killed, ye foollass. Ye speak of things people dinnae understand, things people fear. Suchtales can raise talk of the devil, and ye must ken what dire fate that canbring.”
“Aye—death.”
“Thenwhy babble on so?”
“Idinnae babble and I rarely speak of these things. I but felt ye deserved the truthsince ye are caught up in our trouble through no choice of your own. And Ithink seeing ghosties isnae truly something that would rouse people’s fears toa deadly height. It does make them uneasy. That can stir up some verra darkgossip and much unpleasantness.”
“Thencease talking such muck.”
“‘Tisnaemuck, sir. ‘Tis the simple truth. I cannae change that. I am what I am.”
Ruaristared into her huge brown eyes. He saw no glint of madness or amusement thatwould prove she was playing some jest. The girl truly believed what she said.After what had just happened, he discovered there was a part of him thatbelieved her and he swiftly subdued it. He had often heard of those who couldpeer into the shadows so many people feared and see what lurked there, but hehad always scoffed at such tales. Ruari sternly refused to relinquish hisskepticism.
Hegrew strongly aware of how alluring her small, heart-shaped face was andallowed that fascination to take hold. Being tempted by Sorcha was preferableto hearing her speak of ghosts and ill spirits. He decided the wisest thing todo was to ignore her talk, neither to ridicule nor accept it. He wished she wasas easily ignored.
“Mayhapye think ye speak to the spirits because ye are lonely,” he said, his voicequiet and soft as he moved his hand just enough to stroke her thick braid.
“Lonely?Dunweare swarms with my kinsmen.”
Sorchafound herself all too aware of their closeness, but she was unable to pullaway. Her gaze was fixed upon his mouth, each movement of his lips causing herpulse to race. Men were scarce at Dunweare, and thus far she had escaped allknowledge of how tempting some of them could be, both physically andemotionally. She heartily wished she had remained so blissfully ignorant. RuariKerr’s allure reached so deeply inside of her it was frightening.
“Yeare lonely for a mon, sweet Sorcha. How old are ye?”
“Twenty,”she whispered, knowing she was being seduced by the soft caress of his deep,rich voice, but unable to fight him.
“Longpast marrying age. Mayhap, my bonny brown lass, ye are pining so for a mon yehave conjured one up in your mind.”
“Andye claim thatIspeak nonsense,” she muttered, but her brief flash ofirritation was swiftly smoothed away by his sudden smile. The man looked sogood when he smiled Sorcha was sure it was a sin.
“Lassescan grow as lonely as any mon. Your wee cousin Euphemia is proof of that.”
“Mywee cousin needs a sound cuff offside her empty little head.”
“Andwhat do ye need, Sorcha Hay?” Moving carefully to avoid any pain, he reached upto follow the fine lines of her face with his fingers. “Ye need something. Ican see it in your eyes. They are huge, dark pools of longing.”
Itwas hard for Sorcha to subdue a blush. The man saw too much. She prayed he didnot see that her longing was not for just any man, but for him alone. Theintense feelings swirling inside of her were exciting, frightening, andconfusing. His touch, the way his lightly callused fingers moved over her face,made her want to lean closer and pull away at the same time. She was indeedfilled with longing, but it pulled her two ways. She ached to find out just howgood Ruari Kerr could make her feel, but she also longed to flee from him, toforget him and all the new confusing emotions he stirred up.
“Ineed ye to release me ere I reopen a few of your wounds,” she said, but knewher threat lacked strength. Her voice was low and husky, robbed of the steelneeded to relay a warning.
“Nay,I think ye but try to flee from what ye truly need. Ye hide in tales andimagination, locked away from the touch of a mon.” He threaded his fingers intoher thick, soft hair and tugged her mouth down to his. “Ye need the heat ofpassion in your blood to burn away all the delusions besetting ye.”
BeforeSorcha could reply to his arrogant statement, he brushed his lips across hers.All thought fled from her mind. She doubted she could put two sensible wordstogether upon pain of death. A shudder tore through her when he gently nibbledat her mouth. She put her palms upon the bed to push herself away from him butlacked the strength to complete the move.
“Yeare a strange lass,” he whispered as he teased her lips with small kisses. “Boyishin some ways, quite mad in others, yet thoroughly tempting. Enough play, Ithink,” he growled and kissed her.
