Page 65 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

Involuntarily, he took a step back as if he had to put some clear distance between himself and Deva. But the beating of his heart told him it was just the demands of a guilty conscience.

Judging by the smile that Rory was giving them, he didn’t suspect a thing. Which somehow only made Niven feel even more wretched.

“I’ll be there,” said Deva, her eyes flashing nervously towards Rory. She looked as if she had things to say, questions to ask of him. But just as she approached, Rory tugged on his horse’s reins.

“Come on, Thunderbolt, we’ve got some distance to cover today. Let’s hope the terrain is a wee bit more hospitable than it was the other night!” and with a pertinent wink to Niven, he rode off, with Fingal following him behind.

Suddenly, they were left, together, on their own.

“Well,” said Deva, her blue eyes glinting in the morning sun. A smile coiled across her face.

“Well,” said Niven, staring.

* * *

“Not here,” were Niven’s first words as soon as he could take a breath.

Inside, he felt ripped apart. Guilt and desire were devouring him in equal measure. His heart was beating so fast that he could barely think. All the same, it hadn’t stopped him kissing her, almost the minute that his uncle’s back was turned. And he couldn’t wait to get her alone again somewhere.

It was only when he pulled away from her embrace that he realized what he was doing. It was like he was in a dream. His face and body felt alien to him.

In order to steady himself, he touched her. The smoothness of her skin did things to him, rippling through his body. He had to have her. There was no question.

All the same, the sensible side of his brain nagged at him. It was too open. Anyone could see them.

“Come,” he said, leading her away, back to the castle keep. Nervously, he glanced about. For once, there were no meddling servants nearby, and Dughall – who had been like his shadow for the last few days – was mercifully absent.

Niven couldn’t help grinning when he heard the old goat had returned from the hunting expedition, blue in the face and with icicles in his beard.

“Where are we going?” asked Deva. She looked ravishing today, in the blue plaid of the MacLean clan. Niven took a moment to admire her fully, the deep blue of her robe setting off her eyes to full effect. Her flowing red locks shimmered in the morning sun radiantly.

“We cannae go to yer room, or to mine, someone will see!” began Deva. Anxiously, she looked around as if expecting to see someone.

“Nae fash, lassie,” said Niven, patting her shoulder quickly. He, too, was being vigilant. If it was one thing he had learned about living here, it was not to trust the servants. They had a habit of appearing out of nowhere at the most disconcerting moments.

Smiling, Niven led her by the hand, down the dusky corridor, and into a side chamber. There, he ushered her through until they were together in the darkened room.

Blinking, Deva looked around. The room was dark, with only one candle burning at the far end. Niven longed to press his mouth to hers and make love right there. But he could tell from the creaking footsteps going around his head that they were not safe yet.

“What, what is this place?” asked Deva, taking an interest in the darkened room. Curiously, she walked about, admiring the furniture and artworks which adorned the room.

“It doesnae matter,” said Niven, his fingers just aching to touch her.

Then for a moment, they both tensed as footsteps went past. For one moment, Niven thought that they were going to burst in, and as they passed, he felt his heartbeat accelerate.

Then, a voice made them both nearly leap out of their skin.

“Deva!” called a familiar voice. Beside him, Deva tensed.

“Och, Allyth,” she whispered, looking around frantically. Niven also felt panicked. He might have known that Deva’s maid wouldn’t be too far away. She seemed to be permanently stuck to Deva. He had half a mind that she suspected something because the looks she sent him were none too friendly.

The last thing he wanted was for them to be discovered like this, even if technically, they were not doing anything wrong. Yet.

The pair of them waited as Allyth’s footsteps eventually passed, leaving both of them to silently exhale in the cobwebbed room.

“That was close,” said Deva when she had finally passed. Looking around, she gazed up at one of the portraits in front of them. But it was dark. The great windows at the end of the room were shuttered, meaning the only flickering light that came in the room was from a small candle burning in the corner of the room.

Fetching it, Deva brought it up close to one of the portraits, a heavy oil painting of a dark-haired woman.