The great beast snorted and nudged him in the head.
“Nay, I’ve not gone to meet my maker.” Duncan reached up and stroked the animal’s silky muzzle. “But I don’t feel alive, either. I don’t know what I am.”
He continued to lie there, wondering how long it would take for his clothes to dry, and for his conscience to truly pass judgment on what he had done.
* * *
It was dark by the time Duncan returned to the castle. He crossed the bridge on foot, leading Turner behind him, then handed him off to a groom outside the stables. Duncan entered the main castle and went straight to his bedchamber but found it locked. He pounded on the door and heard Amelia shout from inside, “Who is it?”
He had told her to lock herself in. That had been more than thirteen hours ago. He raked a hand through his hair, displeased with himself. “It’s Duncan. You can open the door now, lass.”
Because Richard would not be coming back.
The lock clicked, the door opened, and Amelia flew into Duncan’s arms. She wore a white dressing gown, and her tousled hair was wet, hanging loose upon her shoulders. Shesmelledof rose petals.
“Thank heavens you’reallright,” she said. “No one knew where you were.”
He reached up to pry her wrists off the back of his neck and hold them low in front of him. “I’m fine, lass.”
She led him into the room. The fire was burning low, casting the bedchamber in a shroud of warm, golden light.
There was a tub in front of the hearth. Her maid must have come and gone, at least.
“Did they find Richard yet?” Amelia asked.
Duncan had hadallday to consider how he would answer that question. In the end, he knew that honesty was the only option. Richard’s head would soon arrive at Kinloch Castle—it was a mere two-day ride from here—and news of his death would spread quickly. There was no possibility of hiding what had occurred. Not from her.
“Nay, they did not find him,” Duncan answered. “The militia isstillsearching, along with Worthington’s men.”
Before Duncan had a chance to say anything more, she came toward him, slipped her arms around his waist, and laid her cheek on his chest. “Oh, Duncan, how I missed you. I was so worried. I feared you would never return.”
He stood motionless, bewildered, as she tugged his shirt out from inside his kilt and leather belt. She lifted it to bare his chest, then took a moment to study the cut of his muscles and the markings of his scars. Soon her soft, pink lips were brushing over his skin. Her moist breath made him shiver, and he lostallinterest in conversation, despite the fact that there was so very much to say.
Her enticing wet mouth settled on a nipple, and she sucked greedily. His breathing grew heavy. She licked and teased both nipples for quite some time; then her eyes lifted and she gave him a smile of raw, sensual appeal.
He knew he should stop her, but he couldn’t. He needed this physical sensation to bring him out of the strange, empty void he had been floating inallday.
She slid down the front of him to her knees and slipped her hands up under his kilt. She kept her eyes fixed on his the entire time as she stroked the muscles of his thighs, then took hold of his heavyballs. She caressed and massaged him. Final y, she lowered her ravenous gaze and disappeared under his kilt.
Duncan closed his eyes and tipped his head back as she took him into her mouth. Erotic pleasure flooded through him.
The chaos of his life dissolved in the wet, luxuriant heat of her mouth and the ecstasy that coursed through his veins. She licked and sucked tirelessly, until he could no longer remain standing. He took her by the shoulders,pulledher to her feet, swept her up into his arms, and carried her to the bed.
He came down on top of her in a smooth blur of movement, needing to make love in a way he had never needed before. He kissed her deeply, thrust his eager, muscled hips into hers, then reached down andpulledher shift and his kilt out of the way.
He leaned up on one elbow and looked down at his erection, poised and pulsing hotly between her thighs.allhe had to do was touch the tip of his passions to the dark, silky center of her womanhood and in one firm stroke he would be lost inside. But something held him back.
“Amelia…”
“Yes?” She wiggled impatiently, cupped his buttocks in her hands, andpulledhim inside. He slid inalltoo easily.
Heaven melted around him, rendered him immobile, speechless, but somehow he located his resolve andpulledout again. He rose up onallfours to look down at her.
He couldn’t do this. Not now.
“Ikilledhim.”
She blinked a few times. “What do you mean?”
