“Aye,” he murmured, and then he thrust hard.
Alana gasped, consumed with growing pleasure, and now, they moved swiftly, hard, as one. Alana shattered, crying out again and again, Iain grunting his own pleasure.
And then they lay very still, breathing hard, in one another’s arms.
“We must get up,” Iain said softly, his mouth against her ear. “Even though I wish to stay with ye this way fer all the day.”
Alana’s pulse was still racing somewhat. “You could never spend an entire day in bed,” she whispered, amused at the thought.
He released her, sitting up. “With ye, I think I could.”
They smiled at one another. She did not try to sit up. He moved away to pick up his clothes, and she became aware of dawn’s light, creeping into the tiny window slits high above them, in the ceiling, where the castle’s ground floor was. She glanced up.
A new day was coming. Pale light was trying to filter within.
Some of her satisfaction dulled. Worry crept over her.
She heard Iain stand, and begin to dress. She finally sat up, reaching for her cloak, to cover her nudity. She was somber now. Every thought she had just had returned, full force. How could she continue to deceive him?
Now dressed in his leine and boots, Iain went to the wall, took a torch down, and brought it back to them. He set it down in a pocket in the stone floor. He glanced at her with some speculation.
They were both in the light now, and her heart lurched. She could not continue to deceive him. But after last night, how could she tell the truth? She could not bear to lose him.
He handed her torn clothing to her. “Ye do not look like a woman who is well pleased. What is amiss, Alana?”
She slid on her chemise, then the cote and surcote. “You know how pleased I am.”
“Do I?”
Alana held her bodice together. “I am so very pleased.... But what do we do now?”
He squatted beside her. “I make certain ye get upstairs with no one the wiser, and then I make certain ye get to Brodie, where ye will be safe from this war. I will send ye there with an escort.” His gaze was searching.
Did he feel about her, the way she did about him? Was it possible? “Do you care, Iain? Do you care if I am safe?”
“I care,” he said roughly, rising to his full height. “But I also care about the secrets ye and yer grandmother keep.”
She froze, and she felt all the blood draining from her face. “Secrets?” If ever there was an opening, he had just given her one.
But how could she tell him she was Buchan’s niece? That she was a Comyn? She did not want to destroy what was happening between them. And even if they survived that revelation, they would not survive the fact that she had the sight. She felt certain of that.
So if he cared as much about her, he cared about a lie.
Alana did not know what to do.
“I care, Iain. I also care about you, and...a war divides us. I am afraid!”
He stared searchingly at her, for a long, terrible moment. “The war only divides us if we let it,” he said grimly. He bent and put on his first belt, in which was sheathed a small dagger. Then he put on his sword belt.
Alana stood, wrapping the cloak about her so no one would be able to tell that her clothing had been ripped off of her.
He finished buckling the belt and touched her elbow. “Do ye have another gown?’
She nodded, wanting to ask him how they would navigate this war, and when she would see him again. “When do I go back to Brodie?” she asked instead as they started for the stairs.
“Ye will leave today, Alana, this morning, if I do not mistake my guess.” He took her arm and sent her ahead of him, up the narrow winding stairwell.
“I leave today?” she said, shocked.
