Page 71 of A Dangerous Highland Affair

Perhaps Neacal had anticipated this, as now uncertainty shone in his eyes. “Shall I?” he asked, once again.

Teasag’s eyes met his with a gentle smile. Inside, she wanted him with a ferocity that scared her. She had never experienced anything as intense as this before, and her insides throbbed at the mere thought of penetration.

Neacal’s fingers explored her, by turn curious and abandoned.

“Oh,” she gasped as he coaxed her slowly into pleasure. But she knew it could not continue.

“I ken,” said Neacal softly. Without her having to say anything, he withdrew his hand. “Nae the right time?”

For half a minute, Teasag longed to grab him, bring him back inside her and carry on. But as his hand retreated, her senses slowly returned. She was outside, in broad daylight.

Although she desperately wanted to make love to him, it just wouldn’t be right.

“Nae,” she managed to stutter as mad feelings danced around inside of her. Neacal’s teasing smile made it clear that he was every bit as conflicted, his flickering eyes laying plain his desire.

All the same, he replaced his hands by her side, allowing her to lace up her stays quickly, as he played with her hair.

“Whatever ye say, hen,” he said, his curious fingers running up and down her palms, making her want him all over again. Teasag struggled to control herself as Neacal pulled away.

“Thank ye,” she said primly, making Neacal laugh out loud. “I just dinnae think that ye ken, here is the right place…”

“Aye, yer right,” agreed Neacal. Whatever was going on behind his face was hard to read. Still, from the inquisitive glances he was sending her, he seemed every bit as ready to leap into things as she was.

“Here’s nae right at all, when we—if…,” he said, hesitating over the word. “If we do take things further, then it should be perfect, nae oot here, like a pair o’ rabbits…,” a smile curled beneath his nose. “Although, I wouldnae complain, like…”

Teasag giggled. Just the thought of him on top of her, out here in the open thrilled and delighted her in equal measure. But it would be wrong.

“Aye,” she agreed. “An’ I hope there will be some time, later, when things are right…,” her voice drifted off. It was infuriatingly difficult to find the right words. In fact, just thinking about what she was saying was putting her off.

Neacal, sensing her discomfort; smiled, and moved slightly away from her.

“So then,” she said, recovering herself. Teasag pulled the wrap that had fallen around her shoulders up a little tighter—the sun’s advancing rays hadn’t stopped the cold of the wind. “I never did ask how was it that yer face ended up on the cover o’ a wanted poster?”

Teasag’s question took him by surprise, sitting him up and immediately stiffen against the broad tree trunk.

“Ah, it’s a long story,” he said, looking away from her.

“Then tell it, I’m in nae hurry,” she said, and this time made it clear that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Meeting her eye, Neacal shrugged.

“That commander, Marcas, ye ken, the one who tried riding us off the road…?” he said.

Teasag thought that he’d tried to do an awful lot more than that but didn’t say anything. She nodded. “Aye.”

“Well, ye may be couldnae tell this, but he doesnae like me an awfu’ lot,” said Neacal, the top of his lips turning upwards.

Unsure, Teasag looked at him as the very beginnings of a smile began to unfurl themselves across his lips. Then, in an instant, it had vanished, and Neacal looked earnest once again.

“The thing is, I cannae really blame him, all things considered,” added Neacal.

There was a pause as the wind shook some leaves from the trees, bringing with them a tiny green acorn. Intrigued, Teasag picked it up, astonished to see it so early in the year.

“Teasag, ye’ve got to believe me, when I say, I’m nae a killer…,” he looked around, nervously.

“Aye, I believe ye,” she said reassuringly. She went to touch his hand, but he seemed reticent.

“An’… I ne’er killed anyone, nae meant for anyone to get hurt, but…,” his eyes scanned hers quickly, and Teasag got a very sharp sense of something being wrong.