“He attacked you!” the earl reminded her. “I’ll not let him get away with it. Lord knows what he might do next. He might return and slit all our throats while we sleep.”
Lachlan pondered that for a moment, and decided that yes, he’d quite enjoy returning after dark. The first thing he’d do would be make up for how he had botched the attack at the standing stones. This time he would use a different approach. He’d seduce her and make herwantit. Hell, he’d make herbegfor it. Then she’d have no choice but to lift the curse.
He thrashed wildly again and struggled against the bonds. He had to get off this friggin’ table.
Lifting his head, he spotted his sword and belt on a shelf on the other side of the tack room. He wondered what they had done with his horse.…
“Fine,” Raonaid replied in response to her cousin’s refusal to release him. “But can we at least give him a drink of brandy? Clearly he is in pain.”
A drink would be good.
Unfortunately, the earl refused.
Raonaid gave him a pleading look, and to Lachlan’s surprise, the man surrendered.
“Very well. I’ll send a groom to the house.” Drumloch turned and went searching.
At last… Here was the woman Lachlan had always known and reviled. She had an inexplicable, or perhaps mystical, power to manipulate.
She moved closer—close enough that he could smell her strawberry fragrance—and his thoughtless, brazen body responded instantly with another hot surge of lust.
God damn it, Lachlan. Get ahold of yourself.Ever since he touched her in the stone circle, everything about her seemed erotic, and he hated himself for responding that way.
Because he didn’t want to feel that way abouther.
“When we spoke before,” she said, seeming oblivious to his teeming lust, “you told me that my name was Raonaid, and that I was an oracle. A witch.”
“Aye.”
She paused a moment. “You seem quite certain that I am her, and because I have no memory of my former life, I have no way of knowing whether or not your claims are true. But I can tell you this: I do not believe I am the vengeful person you describe. I am not…likethat. So perhaps you are mistaken.”
He chuckled bitterly. “Nay, lass. There’s no mistake. You are the oracle, without a doubt. I know your face very well, and the particular cadence of your voice. I would know it anywhere. It has a way of grating on my nerves.”
She slowly walked around the foot of the table.
The sway of her hips was seductive and alluring. Her eyes burned with resolve.Hell!He could still smell her juicy fragrance, and he wanted to leap off the table and slide his hands up under her skirts… wiggle his hips against hers… taste her sweet hot mouth with his lips and tongue and rip that heavy gown right off her.
He was getting hard again, and beginning to think she must have put another spell on him. She might have done it when he was still sitting in the saddle back at the stone circle. Maybe she had never been asleep while he was watching her. Maybe all those lustful moans and breathless sighs were some form of erotic sorcery.
Ah, Jesus…
“My family tells me I went missing five years ago,” she said, still oblivious to what was going on under his kilt. “How long have you known this woman called Raonaid? Where did she live?”
“I met her—” He stopped abruptly and corrected himself. “I metyoufor the first time four years ago. You were living far from here, on the Outer Hebrides. With Angus.”
“Who is Angus?”
He glared at her accusingly. “My cousin and chief. Angus the Lion. But do not try to pretend you don’t know him. I know that you do. You were his lover for over a year.”
Raonaid’s eyes lifted, and all the color drained from her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with mocking pity. “Does your family think you are an innocent virgin?”
She lifted her chin. “That is none of your concern, sir, and it is an appalling question to ask a lady.”
He wanted to laugh at her virtuous airs—for the Raonaid he knew was no stranger to depravity. She once threw a tantrum and tore apart the kitchen at Kinloch Castle. The cooks fled like mice. That same day, she punched Lachlan in the face and nearly broke his jaw. On top of all that, she could hold her whisky better than any Highlander twice her size.
Lachlan tried to focus on those memories of her, hoping it would take care of his maddening erection, but nothing seemed to make a difference.
