Page 42 of Highland Fire

Tavig cursed when she moved away to clean out their bowls and put their food safely back into their sacks. “Ye cannae cease living your life because of other people’s foolish fears.”

“I ken it, but to ignore them is equally as foolish. I cannae live a life where each night could be the one where the villagers kick in our door, torches held high, and drag us to our deaths. I cannae live kenning that at any time we will have to hie into the woods, fleeing the cries of ‘Witch, witch.’” She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. “We are both cursed with something that rouses superstition in many a breast. Apart we can probably get through our lives with only a wee bit of trouble. Together ’tis as if we spit in the eye of superstition, and that will certainly get us knocked down. Twice we were nearly killed because of it.”

He grabbed her hand, tugging her down onto his lap. “Nay. Once my gift caused us trouble. The other time it was a jealous woman and an ambitious priest.”

“Ambitious? What makes ye think that priest was ambitious?”

“Only Jeanne accused you. No other mon, woman, or child stepped forward to claim that ye had done them harm. A good priest would have sent them all home, would have seen that ’twas no more than a whore’s stung vanity causing all the trouble. Not this priest. He saw a chance to make his mark. To find and destroy one of Satan’s servants? That would win him favor and prestige. Ye were to be his stepping stone to a larger, richer church. Mayhap even higher than that.”

“Not a verra godly mon.”

“Nay. The priest who serves my people is a verra godly mon.”

“And ye are a verra stubborn mon.”

“When I am certain of what I want, I work hard to get it.”

“I dinnae ken how ye can be so sure of wanting to wed me. We have only been together for a little more than a week.”

“Ye must have kenned something of importance for ye became my lover.”

Moira turned in his hold so that she sat facing him, moving her legs so that he was gently caged between them. “I kenned that I wanted you,” she said softly, curling her arms around his neck and kissing him lightly on the mouth. “I kenned that I would forever regret not satisfying the passion ye could stir within me.” She slowly traced the lines of his lean face with soft, gentle kisses.

“Ye are trying to distract me from a talk about marriage,” he said, his voice growing hoarse as she trailed kisses over his throat.

“Is it working?”

“Aye, ye wretch. Verra weel.”

She laughed as he moved, standing with her in his arms. He carried her over to their rough bed, gently laid her down, and sprawled on top of her. She had not tempted him solely to shut him up. Her need for him was strong. Moira suspected that facing death yet again fed her greedy desire for Tavig. Tasting the passion he could stir within her was the sweetest way to prove to herself that she had indeed cheated death once again.

“Now mayhap we can finish what we have twice started today, only to be interrupted,” he muttered as he yanked off her boots then his own. “Aye, and what I feared ye might now be thinking of denying me.”

“Because of Adair?” She lifted her hips to aid him in the removal of her skirts and petticoat.

“Aye, I didnae think that when ye grew so distant to me that ye just tried to sort out your thoughts and feelings. I feared ye had grown distant because ye couldnae forgive me. Since I couldnae—aye, and wouldnae—deny that the child was mine, I wasnae sure I could cross that cold distance and pull ye back to me.” Tossing aside the last of their clothing, he eased himself into her arms, sighing with a mixture of pleasure and relief. “I feared that we would ne’er lie together again.”

“Tavig, I near to threw myself into your arms after kenning ye for but one week. Do ye really think that after breaking every rule so completely and so swiftly, I would leave your bed because ye sired a child ere ye had ever met me?”

“Yet ye are willing to allow the fears of ignorant people to send ye away from me.” He watched her closely, brushing a few stray wisps of hair from her face.

“The fear of ignorant people can kill us. A bairn can cause us no harm.” She threaded her fingers in his thick hair and pulled his face down to hers. “Ye should be flattered that I am so concerned for your safety.”

“I am, and it gives me hope. But ’twould flatter me more if ye cared enough to face those risks at my side.”

Before Moira could say a word, he kissed her. She quickly ceased to think, allowing herself to become a creature of only feelings. She wanted to sink into the passion they shared, to forget the fear she had tasted but hours ago. Making love with Tavig made her feel a strange mixture of free, strong, beautiful, and safe.

She matched him kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke. The bolder she grew, the fiercer he became in his passion, and his increasing loss of control heightened her own desire. When he joined their bodies, she greedily welcomed him. Her release was swift and blinding. She was only faintly aware of how he shuddered with his own, hoarsely calling out her name, as she fell headlong into the sweet semiconsciousness of ecstasy.

Her senses slowly returned as she savored the lingering warmth in her body. Tavig made a lethargic effort to leave her, and she tightened her grip on him, using her passion-weighted limb to hold him closer. As the last remnants of her desire left her body, she sighed. She was content, sated, all her lingering fears eased, yet she wished the delicious feelings Tavig stirred within her could last far longer than they did.

“Ye are a wonder, dearling,” Tavig murmured, easing the intimacy of their embrace, turning onto his side and tugging her into his arms. “A fast learner, too.”

Moira smiled against his shoulder as she idly smoothed her hand over his broad chest. “Is that a good thing?”

“Oh, aye, this mon certainly thinks so. It could be bad for my health, though.” He smiled and kissed her forehead when she giggled. “We had best get some sleep. There isnae much left of this night, and we cannae sleep away the day. We still have too many miles to go.”

Stretching languorously when he rose to put on his braies, Moira wondered idly if Tavig knew what a fine figure of a man he was. A huge yawn broke her fascination with Tavig’s lean form, and she realized how exhausted she was. After slipping on her chemise, she waited for Tavig to return to bed and then curled up in his arms. Even as she relaxed, preparing to go to sleep, a concern tickled at her mind.