Aileana sank onto the bench that flanked the table. But why? Why would he deliberately compromise the ruse he’d created himself? He’d wanted everyone from both his clan and hers to think that she was his leman in truth. And she’d agreed to it. Agreed to remain here at this cursed castle in exchange for Gavin’s life. How dare he add insult to injury, then, by permitting the others to witness his distaste for sharing her bed?
Aileana lurched to her feet. Her heart beat wildly, and her nails bit into her palms and she tried to hold herself back, knowing she was spiraling into an abyss of raw emotion.The wretch. That he chose to slake his lusts on some other unfortunate woman was a blessing, but the way he was doing it gained nothing but further humiliation for her. Marching out of the kitchen, Aileana set off in search of the man who appeared bent on destroying her life. He wasn’t on the sparring ground or in the hall. She even worked up enough courage to ask Kinnon if Duncan had joined the day’s hunting party in the glen.
He hadn’t.
Finally, at a loss as to where else he might be, she stamped up to their bedchamber. Perhaps the fiend was fetching another pair of those cursed gauntlets he so loved to wear; along with his scowl, they seemed his favorite way of intimidating people. But she wouldn’t let him dominate her this time. Duncan MacRae was as accountable as the next man, and she would force him to admit that he’d nullified their agreement. That he’d broken his own rules concerning her appearance as his leman.
With a shove that sent the door slamming into the wall, Aileana strode into their bedchamber. Then she stopped with a gasp. Someone had pulled back all of the curtains, and sunlight spilled into the chamber like a glittering waterfall. It blinded her for a moment, but a splashing sound warned her, an instant before Duncan’s rich voice rang through the chamber.
“Hand me that cloth, will you?”
Aileana’s heart rolled in her chest as her vision adjusted enough to make out the form of the giant washtub. And Duncan was clearly sitting in it, submerged in bubbles up to his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut against the lather covering his head, and his left hand waved back and forth in the general vicinity of a folded linen towel that rested on the stool beside him.
By the time Aileana found her tongue, she could only stutter, “What did you say?”
Duncan’s hand ceased to wave. A slow grin split the bubbles on his face. “Ah, my loyal leman.” Eyes still closed, he tilted his head back. “It’s very simple. Either you can hand me that cloth over there,” he gestured again toward the stool, “or I’ll be needing to get up in all of my naked glory to fetch it for myself.”
Aileana felt the blood rush in her ears. The renewed splashing sound shook her from her stupor, and she lunged forward to shove the cloth into his hand before he managed to pull himself to a standing position in the tub.
“Thank you, lass,” he murmured as he wiped the soap away and smiled again. “I thought that my proposition might make your choice easier to make.”
Aileana clutched her arms round her middle and stepped back. Easier wasn’t the right word. Panicked had been more like it. There was something disconcerting about standing next to Duncan when he was in this…this state of undress. He’d shaven recently, and his smooth skin glowed so that she hardly noticed the scar on his cheek. His hair looked darker when wet, though the sun still lit the flecks and streaks of blond in it as if they were touched by a sorcerer’s wand.
Her gaze drifted to his tawny chest, and then down his abdomen to where bubbles obstructed her view. But as she stared, she realized that the shiny spheres were vanishing one by one, leaving patches of clear water in their wake. And if she let her gaze drift down a little farther under the water she could just barely see…
Skittering back another three steps, Aileana began to pace. “Perhaps you’d better be getting dressed now. I’ve something of importance to discuss with you.”
“Aye, the water’s taking on a bit of a chill—though the room seems warmer, somehow, since you came in to see me.”
His eyes sparkled quicksilver, and the lilting quality of his voice sent a tingle up her spine. If she didn’t know better, she’d guess that Duncan MacRae was dallying with her.
Heat rose in her cheeks.Ridiculous.She heard him get out of the tub behind her. Careful to keep her gaze averted, she walked toward the windows and began to unloose the ties that held the curtains back, intending to let them fall shut and give him some privacy.
“Do not do that.”
His piercing tone made her jump. She whirled to face him, surprised to see that his usual hard expression had returned. He’d wrapped the linen towel round his waist, though water still dripped down his chest and from the ends of his fingers. His right hand was hidden beneath the plaid and tunic he held in obvious preparation to don.
“Why not? Do you prefer that the entire clan watch you dress in front of your extravagant display of glass?”
“Just let it be.”
Impatience shoved at the already tattered remnants of her composure. She stared at him. Why would he take issue with something so simple? Throwing up her hands, she walked over to the one open window and prepared to close it, so that he at least wouldn’t freeze from the chill air as he dressed.
“Nay!”
She snapped her gaze to him again, incredulous. “Now you wish to catch your death of cold as well as lose all modesty?”
Though his eyes hardened further, Duncan didn’t answer; he turned from her to pull his long-sleeved tunic over his head. The linen towel slid from beneath the garment to fall damply on the floor. He didn’t respond to her question until he’d knotted his plaid and slipped on his familiar, leather gloves.
Then his voice was quiet, full of some emotion Aileana couldn’t identify. “I like the light. I like the fresh air.” His expression darkened, and he glanced away. “There is much that I could command as laird of the MacRaes that I do not ask for. But this I need. Leave it at that.”
He turned to gather his leather bag of provisions, along with his claymore.He was going to go away again, curse him!
Aileana snapped her mouth shut and stalked over to him. “I do not wish to talk with you about your privileges as laird. I came here for another reason entirely, and you’ll hear me out before you go off on another one of your endless excursions to raid the other clans.”
Duncan swung slowly around, weariness and something else—was it acceptance?—weighing down every inch of his taut, muscular frame. “Get on with it, then, Aileana. I’ve much to attend to before we set out against the MacLeods this eve.”
“I’m sure you do, though in matters not related tofighting,I’d wager.” Facing him with hands on her hips, she fired a look at him that would melt iron. “I’m here to tell you one thing, Duncan MacRae. I’ll put up with your crass treatment of me in front of your clan and your bitter silence behind closed doors, but I will not allow you to humiliate me by bedding Nora MacKenzie every night that I’m forced to live in your accursed holding as your leman.”
