Alana met his gaze. It was openly concerned, and she could not doubt that he still cared for her. Meg took their horses away. “How long will we stay here?”
“’Tis a good place for us to rest. MacDonald kin control these lands. We will stay a few days, as the men have ridden hard since we left Concarn.”
There was more relief. Her legs ached from so much riding in the past few days, and her back hurt, too. She was not a warrior, accustomed to such exertion.
Iain took her hands in his and glanced at them. Instead of releasing her palms, he gripped them tightly, smiling at her. “I’ve seen worse. Ye’ll be fine.”
She moved closer to him, her skirts brushing his thighs. “I could not bear it when you were angry with me.”
His gaze darkened, but not with anger. How she recognized the slow burning gleam. “I am still angry.... Ye could have died, crossing the northwest Highlands in the winter!”
She pulled her hands free of his and placed them on his chest. “I could not sit idly by, allowing you to be ambushed, not when I had learned of my uncle’s plans.”
“So ye have chosen sides.” He covered her hands with his, holding them against his chest.
Alana tensed. “I chose you, Iain, over my father, but I do not want anything ill to befall him.” She prayed yet again that her vision of her father’s death had been wrong.
“Ye almost sound as if ye know he will be in jeopardy.”
They should not have secrets between them, not now, Alana thought. How she wished to tell him about her visions. But she did not dare, not now, not yet.
“I haven’t had a chance to speak with you. Sir Alexander came to Brodie with Buchan. I finally met him a second time, after all of these years.” Her breath caught with some lingering pain. She looked away.
He tilted up her chin. “And he has hurt ye again?”
So many thoughts went through her mind, and she could not speak. She thought of her mother, who had loved him, and now she could understand why. She thought of her sisters, whom Sir Alexander loved, so much so he did not want either of his daughters to marry Iain. And then there was her life.
She could not imagine how her sisters must feel, knowing they were so well loved. At least she had Eleanor.
“Your tent is ready,” she said.
He glanced behind them. His tent had been erected, his banner flapping in the breeze above it. “What did he say, Alana, to distress ye so? What did he do?”
She tried to pull away, but he still clasped her hands. She gave up and said, “I am growing cold, standing here like this.”
“So ye will not speak of him?”
Alana had the urge to cry. “Maybe,” she whispered, “another time.”
He studied her closely. “Bruce wishes to speak with me. Why dinna ye rest, and we will sup together in a few more hours.”
Alana felt as if she had been given a reprieve. But when he released her hands, she clung to him. She had risked her life to warn Iain of the ambush because she loved him. She let his wrists go and slid her hands up his broad, hard chest. “Will you come in with me?” she asked.
“I will come to ye later,” he said.
Alana shook her head as she whispered, “No, come now. I have missed you and I need you.”
His eyes blazed. Before he could think of his king again, she took his hand and tugged him with her into the tent. She saw Meg within, unrolling the rug to cover the snowy ground. His stool, small table and pallet had already been set up. “Leave us, please,” Alana said.
Meg’s eyes widened. She looked between Alana and Iain, and at their clasped hands. Then she hurried past them and left.
“What do ye plan, wench?” Iain said softly.
Alana’s heart was slamming uncontrollably in her chest. She dropped his hand and tossed her two furs onto the pallet, making the bed for them. As she straightened, Iain seized her from behind.
He locked her in his embrace and kissed the side of her neck. “Temptress.”
Alana wriggled against him, spooning against his huge, hard arousal. “I thinkyouhave missedme.” One of his sheathed swords bumped her calf.
