Some things had not changed. Moira recalled how women at Dunscaith were always bringing food to Duncan, hoping to draw his attention.
“I’m sorry about your father,” Moira said.
Duncan gave her a fierce, sideways glance that would have discouraged a lesser woman. “’Tis always best to know the truth,” he said.
“Is it?” She wasn’t so sure. “Ye know, Duncan, you’re nothing like him.”
“Hmmph.”
They walked the rest of the short distance in silence. When they reached the cottage, Duncan made her wait outside while he went in with his dirk in his hand.
“That can’t be necessary,” she said as she hung her borrowed cloak on the peg by the door.
“It’s what a man does.” Duncan said with his back to her as he knelt by the hearth and prodded the fire to life.
“It isn’t what all men do,” she said. “Do ye think that Erik would put the safety of others before his own? Sean never did.”
Duncan continued poking at the fire, so she pulled up a stool beside him. The firelight set off the warm reds in his rich auburn hair, but his face was all hard lines.
“Ye are your own man, Duncan MacDonald,” she said. “Your father’s shame is not yours.”
“I am a man of the sword like he is,” Duncan said without looking at her. “No matter how hard I try to be different or what I accomplish, his blood runs through my veins.”
Without thinking, Moira leaned forward and touched his cheek with her fingers. She felt the muscles of his jaw tighten beneath the rough beard. Before she could pull away, Duncan covered her hand with his and closed his eyes. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm that sent warm tingles all the way up her arm.
Then he opened his eyes and looked straight into hers. The desire burning in them was like a hot fire sucking air from the room. Clearly, Duncan was not thinking about his father anymore.
How could she let herself forget, even for a moment, the wrongs Duncan had done her? He seemed so straightforward and trustworthy, but then, he always had. It was so easy for a woman to mistake a man’s lust for something more.
“I have a weakness for ye, as ye well know,” Duncan said, his voice rough and dangerous. “I don’t need your sympathy. And if ye aren’t careful, I could mistake it for something I do need.”
Duncan wanted her badly. And there was something she wanted from him as well. Anxiety balled in her stomach. This would cost her dearly, but she had to try.
“Take me to Dunvegan Castle to get my son.”
“Ye want to go to the MacLeod stronghold?” Duncan pulled away from her. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?” she asked. “Niall seems to be out of danger. Surely ye can leave him long enough to take me to Dunvegan.”
“It would be pure foolishness for a MacDonald of Sleat to willingly walk into the MacLeod stronghold,” he said, raising his voice. “There is no fortress in all the isles stronger than Dunvegan. And ye don’t even know your son is there. He could just as well be on the island of Harris.”
But Ragnallcouldbe at Dunvegan. If there was a chance he was there, Moira had to go to him.
“Ye needn’t go inside Dunvegan with me,” she said. “Just get me within sight of the castle and leave me.”
“Leave ye there?” Duncan asked, sounding affronted. Then he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Once I have you and Niall safely home at Dunscaith, I’ll talk to Connor, and we’ll figure out how to get your son for you.”
* * *
Duncan expected Moira to continue arguing, though it would be pointless.
Instead, Moira locked gazes with him, then reached back and unfastened her hair. As it fell over her shoulders in a shining dark mass, the smell of summer wildflowers brought back memories so strong Duncan’s knees nearly buckled.
His breathing grew shallow as she ran her fingertips over the bare skin above the neckline of her gown. When she reached the valley between her breasts, she looped her finger round and round the little tie at the center of her bodice. Duncan was vaguely aware that his mouth was hanging open, but he did not have the concentration to close it.
“I know what ye want,” Moira said in a throaty voice and gave the tie a little tug. “And I’ll give it to ye, if ye take me to my son.”
With all the blood rushing to his cock, it took some time for Duncan’s addled mind to take in Moira’s words. And it took him longer still to comprehend that she was offering herself to him, not because she wanted to, but because she wanted something from him.
