Page 30 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

“Nae!” she cried. Then, surprised, she looked up as if she hadn’t been expecting to hear her own voice.

She hadn’t. It was only then that she had decided. But now, she had never felt more determined. And there was no way she was going to let him walk away.

Startled, Niven looked up. Although still moving, he slowed a little. Capitalizing on her start, Deva’s heart gathered apace.

“Nae!” she shouted, again but louder. Inside, the thudding in her chest threatened to overwhelm her. A rogue wind blasted through the field, bringing the crowd’s chants rudely toward her.

Now it wasn’t just her, but them too. And there was no way she was going to let him walk away. Buoyed on by the chant of the crowd, Deva glanced pointedly at him.

Then, something changed. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Niven hesitated.

“Och, if I must, woman!” he said, not yet ready to concede defeat. But the quizzical look on his brow told Deva that he already had. It was as if his face was at war with his thoughts.

Deva held her breath, wondering what was about to happen, but she didn’t have long to wait. Niven pushed his way back through the wind to the podium. Then, he reached towards her, extending his hand to hers. Deva felt his skin skate across hers, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

She knew it. He wasn’t able to resist, just the same as her. His eyes sparkled, letting her know that he wanted this just as much as she did. But with them was confusion. She could tell he was fighting this.

Unsmiling, he grasped her tightly, leading her closer. By now, they were much too close to stop. Deva had to will herself not to simply dive into his upturned lips and fasten him with her deadliest kiss; anything to thaw his heart.

Of course, she didn’t, but it didn’t stop the thought reverberating around her head, making her dizzy. It was just as well he stopped her, bringing his arm around her waist and clenching her tight.

For not the first time, Deva wondered what on earth was happening to her. She used to be so good at reading the signs, but with this lad, it was different. She could not tell where she was with him. Beneath his anger, she could see his desire. It palpated out of him with every breath.

Then, behind them, the fiddlers struck another lively tune. Solemnly, Niven walked Deva to the center of the field, where all eyes were on them.

Taking his hand, Deva pointed her toe to the ground, and before she knew it, the music overtook her. Within seconds, she was swirling in time to its beat.

The crowd’s cheering was almost deafening.

Deva looked to Niven. There was uncertainty in his tawny eyes, but his face displayed no hesitation. Instead, he clamped his palm into hers and led her into the dance.

She couldn’t help turning to stare as he leaped in time to the music. And she couldn’t help noticing his firm, toned thighs as he swayed rhythmically.

The heat of dance revealed a lot more than she’d been expecting. Previously, his legs had been hidden, wrapped under the thin linen pants beneath his armor. It was only now she could see his body again.

Reeling around the field, Deva let him tug and pull her, swaying this way and that to his body. Because it wasn’t rehearsed, half the fun was guessing what he might do next. Tapping her thigh, Deva beckoned to him to turn, taking his arm and twirling in time to the jig. As he went around, she caught his eye. A strange fire burned in the middle of them, but she could not tell if it was anger or desire.

Perhaps it was neither. Although he smiled, she had to say he didn’t look very relaxed. And from his intense expression, it was clear he was concentrating hard just to stay afloat.

“Och,” he gasped, moaning lightly under his breath as they glided about the field, his arm tucked in hers. Deva heard his sigh and looked quizzically at him.

“Out of breath?” she asked, in between turns.

“It’s nothing,” said Niven, but from the wince, he gave she could see that it wasn’t nothing. Niven moved stiffly, pulling her across and over to him, now they were within an arms breadth of each other.

With the fiddlers picking up the pace and now a pair of drummers stepping in to add to the festivities, the noise around them grew. Deva looked anxiously to him, still struggling in the encroaching din.

“Niven,” she asked gently. In between all the noise, she managed to get a moment and bring her head a little way nearer towards him. For a moment, there was a lull in the music, and she took the chance to come up close.

Deva looked into his eyes. They were bright and shiny but wearing an expression that she couldn’t decipher.

“What?” he asked. It was impossible to tell from his tone whether she was forgiven or not. However, for then, that was not what concerned her.

“Yer side,” she said, her eye fixed on the side of his waist. Although he was doing his best to hide it, it was obvious that it was causing him pain.

“Och, it’s nothing,” he said dismissively. He tried to turn from her, to separate out, ready for the fiddlers to restart their tune.

But they didn’t. There was a fumbling of instruments as if there was some confusion over what tune to play next. One of the musicians brought his fiddle aloft as if trying to fix it.