Page 66 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

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The smell hit her as she walked in through the iron gate. Cutting through the gloom, Fiona made out the silhouette of Clyde pressed against the rusting bars.

"Fiona hoo!" Clyde called excitedly and began to stand up as she came into the room. Or, at least he tried to. In the dingy light, she could barely make out his features. It was so dark it took some time for her to train her eyes upon him.

Slowly, she paced forward, everything she had to say rehearsed in her mind.

"Clyde," she said, emotions clouding her head. Now that she had seen him, it was not as easy as she thought.

"Fiona, it's braw tae see ye, but ye shouldnae have come!"

Clyde's first words as she passed through the metal bars were not what she had hoped for. Instead of reassurance, seeing Clyde had made her anxious. His green eyes pierced the gloom and straight into her heart.

"I needed to," said Fiona, keeping her voice resolute. She was trying to maintain a calm front, but inside, she was anything but. And darting from side to side, she kept her gaze away from his curious eyes. "I needed to see ye were al...alright..."

For a minute, she faltered. The word about to leave her lips was alive. And Clyde knew it.

Now they were standing, side by side, under the watchful gaze of the guard.

The Greenock dungeons were not well-kept nor well-attended. Catching the eye of the belligerent turnkey, Fiona waved him over. Without speaking, she slipped a coin into his hand and, grudgingly, he disappeared.

"Ye've nae got long," he muttered as he locked the door, clanging it shut. "I'll be back, so ye make the most o' it."

The way he leered over at her made it clear what he was thinking, his dull hooded eyes wandering over to her. Clyde shot him a look, and he was gone, but not before his laughing could be heard all the way down the dark dungeon corridor.

The second he was gone, Clyde grabbed her hands.

"Ye've seen me now. So get on yer wee horse an' gallop out o' here. There's nothing that anyone can do now. Just leave an' get on wi' yer own life." Clyde stared at her sincerely.

A deep surge of heat took Fiona. Everything came tumbling down—emotions, passion, lust.

Sitting on the wooden stool beside him, she crossed her legs. A strange throb had taken her, winding its way from the center of her stomach and caressing her further down.

Thoughts she really shouldn't be having ran all through her head. She pictured them together, on the floor, his tongue doing things that she hadn't even dreamed possible.

A hot flush coming upon her, Fiona straightened down her hair, flustered.

"I cannae go, Clyde," said Fiona, staring at him. She couldn't help it; without knowing it, her hands were on his face. Stroking him tenderly, Fiona's fingers traced the stubble along his jawline.

The next thing she knew, they were kissing. She was not sure if he did it first, or she did. All she knew was that her lips were locked around his, kissing him deeply.

Clyde groaned, drawing in close, taking her hand and squeezing it tight. His fingers stroked the back of her neck, sending buzzing sensations all over her. A little bolt of fire ran down her spine. Tingles erupted all over her.

Clyde pushed her down, cradling her in his arms. He still couldn't stand up properly, so the only thing to do was to lie her down.

Despite her intentions to the contrary, Fiona found herself powerless to resist.

Slowly, he kissed her, the scent of his lips winding in deep. His musky odor became a part of her, something she must have.

She wanted him. Right then, more than anything, Fiona was desperate to be with Clyde. But from the rattle of keys and footsteps pacing in the corridor, she knew that they didn't have long.

Ruffling his hair, she tried her hardest to pull away from him, but it was hard.

"Clyde," she murmured. A hail of footsteps clomped down the hall. Fiona tensed as they went past. Holding her breath, she waited for them to leave.

Watching the door, Clyde muttered grimly. "I wouldnae put it past him tae be listening in, the mucky wee bawbag!"

Pressing her finger to his lips, she bade him to silence. Quietly, they waited. There was no more noise; at least, not from the guards. All the other dungeon sounds—the coughs, the wails, and the never-ending banging—continued.