Page 8 of Highlander’s Vengeful Seduction

It was the first time that Donal realized that he was completely out of breath, lungs struggling to pull any air inside them. He put his sword back in its hilt and his small blade back in his hose before leaning against the wall as he tried to catch his breath.

“I told ye I’d beat ye one day,” Donal said. “Ye didnae believe me, but here we are. How does it feel, I wonder?”

Cormag gave him that look that silently told him he thought Donal was a bit of a fool—a look that Donal, naturally, had never liked.

“I feel proud, lad,” Cormag said. “I taught ye well and defeating me proves that. That was all I could ever ask for from my student. There is nae better feeling than having the lad ye taught best ye in combat.”

Perhaps Donal was a bit of a fool, because he didn’t understand how Cormag could possibly be glad that he had beaten him. To him, there was nothing more important than victory, but then again, he had never had a student of his own. Once he was be old enough for that, it could be that he would understand.

Still, while Donal was panting and sweating against the wall, his shirt drenched through and through, Cormag was all but skipping to the kitchen for a snack.

He really had to work on his stamina, he thought, but first, there was another priority; Vanora.

She was still standing aside, even as Donal’s practice had ended, and she still watched him carefully. It was infuriating, having her watch him like that, her dark eyes making it impossible to decipher her thoughts, much like her father. It was also a golden opportunity, though, to approach her and dig up whatever secret she was keeping regarding his brother.

After plastering the most charming smile that he could muster on his face, Donal reached Vanora with a few strides. Vanora was a rare beauty, but Donal knew he wasn’t half bad himself; besides, Vanora used to be in love with him, and Donal knew he could use that to his advantage.

“Did ye enjoy the show?” he asked. Even now that Vanora was not dressed in her finest clothes, but rather in a pine green petticoat and an arasaid in the MacMillan clan colors, she was as radiant as ever. Donal could feel his body reacting, no matter how much he didn’t want that to happen. There was no denying the tingle running down his spine and butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, and it confused him. His heart wanted one thing and his mind another, and Donal could find no way to reconcile the two.

Vanora seemed oblivious to Donal’s internal struggle, though, and she simply gave him a curt, if restrained, smile. “Aye…I didnae think ye’d ever beat my father. Many men have tried, and they have all failed.”

“I’m like nae man,” Donal said, only to have Vanora roll her eyes at him. “I’m a man who was taught by yer father, and that alone makes me better than anyone else.”

Donal hated the warmth that spread inside him when he saw Vanora smile at that, shrugging her shoulders as if to say that she couldn’t argue with what he had said.

“Will ye accompany me on a walk around the grounds?”

Donal offered his hand to Vanora, but she did not take it immediately. She hesitated long enough for Donal to think that she was avoiding him, though he didn’t know whether that was because of what she had done to Ronald or because of what he’d done to her six years ago.

He watched as Vanora glanced around the courtyard, as though she was expecting to be judged for not following him immediately. She finally took his hand and allowed Donal to lead her around the grounds.

“Castle Sween hasnae changed since I was last here,” Donal remarked, as they walked by the very wall where he and Ronald had carved their names long ago. “I feel like a young lad again, like I’ve gone back in time. I almost expect tae turn around and see ye as a young lass.”

There was no mistaking the tight clench of Vanora’s hand around his at his words. It did nothing but confirm for Donal that it had, indeed, been a hard time for her.

“I’m nae young lass anymore,” Vanora said. “I’m a grown woman now, Donal. Ye’ve been away for a long time.”

“I can see that,” Donal assured her, his gaze falling to her breasts before he could even stop himself. “I ken that. I’ve been away from the MacMillan clan for so long that I canna claim I ken anything about yer folk anymore.”

Vanora looped her arm around Donal’s, her other hand coming to rest on his arm. “Weel …if I’m honest, ye have missed nothing. Nothing happens in Castle Sween. Nothing worth mentioning, at least.”

Vanora was close enough to him that Donal could feel the heat radiating from her, as well as every contour and groove of her body where it pressed up against him. He wondered if she even knew what she was doing to him. Was she such a skilled seductress that each of her moves was carefully calculated in advance, even though they looked accidental, instinctual?

“Somehow, I doubt that. As long as ye and yer sister are here, and Angus, then I’m sure ye keep everyone entertained.”

“Entertained?” Vanora sounded anything but. She stopped walking, the arm that was looped around Donal’s bringing him to a stop as well. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Donal couldn’t help but laugh at Vanora’s reaction, which only seemed to serve to annoy her even further. “Forgive me…but I ken ye well, all three of ye. I remember what ye did…what we all did, Ronald and I included.”

It was all he needed to say for Vanora to know what he meant. After all, he and Ronald had spent enough time in Castle Sween to get to know the sisters and Angus better than anyone, the five of them being around the same age. They had gotten in trouble more often than Donal could even count, and he had no doubt that, despite being adults, the three of them continued to get in trouble long after he and Ronald were gone.

It was also all he needed to say to turn the conversation to his brother, the real reason why he was there in the first place.

As they walked, Vanora stopped once more, though this time, she crouched down and picked a flower from the side of the wall. It was purple and fragrant; heather, Donal realized.

“Ronald liked these.”

Vanora spoke so softly that Donal had to get even closer to her to hear what she was saying. She twirled the flower in her hand, a haze of purple and pink.