Highlander Unmasked Read online

  Alex tensed. She was venturing into dangerous territory.

  She paused, heeding the subtle warning. She bit at her lip anxiously, measuring her words. “I was worried. I could tell something was wrong.” Her hand settled on his forearm. Despite the thick velvet of his doublet, a surge of warmth spread through his body from her touch. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d held her in his arms, and the memory proved a powerful one.

  But Alex didn’t want her comfort. He wanted to put her out of his mind.

  He vowed to remain detached, but her small upturned face looked so damn lovely. Those beseeching green eyes, wide with concern. Her thin arched brows drawn together in a delightful wrinkle above her tiny tilted nose. Even in the soft light, he could see the sensual line of her delicate lips. A wave of possessiveness hurled over him. Mine. But she wasn’t, nor ever could be. He fought the primitive urge to cover her mouth with his, to claim her, and to eviscerate all vestiges of Dougal MacDonald from her memory.

  Hell. He dropped her arm and stepped purposefully away from her. “You don’t take advice very well,” he said darkly. “I warned you to have care.”

  “Advice?” She quirked a brow sarcastically. “Don’t you mean orders? And no, I don’t. Do you?”

  Alex refused to bite. “You had better get used to it if you intend to marry.”

  She pressed her lips closed and said nothing, but Alex caught the flash of defiance in her eyes.

  His eyes narrowed. “Or is that one of the criteria for a husband? A man who will let you do as you please.”

  “Of course not,” she retorted.

  Alex’s gaze slid over her indignant face, but he suspected he’d hit upon at least a partial truth. Meg had carved out an unusual position for herself, and from all accounts she relished her responsibilities. Responsibilities he doubted she was eager to give up.

  He studied her upturned face for a long moment. “If you think Jamie Campbell will be led around by his nose, you do not know him very well.”

  “You have no right to talk to me like this. My marriage is no concern of yours.”

  Alex noticed that she hadn’t argued with his premise—she intended to marry Campbell. It riled him more than he wanted to acknowledge. “You’re right,” he said curtly. “You shouldn’t be here. I could have been anyone.” His mind harkened back to the conversation he’d overheard in the tavern. “These darkened corridors are no place for a woman alone. It’s dangerous.” I’m dangerous. “If you cried out, no one would come to your rescue.”

  Though she tried to hide it, Alex saw the flicker of apprehension cross her face. “You’d never hurt me.”

  “How can you be so sure?” He bent his head, unable to resist the urge to inhale her intoxicating scent, a mixture of roses and a subtle feminine perfume all her own. Her lips were softly parted, and he could hear her uneven breathing. Caught up in the irresistible lure, he slid his thumb over the frantic pulse on her neck as his fingers brushed the side of her velvety smooth cheek. Her body trembled at his touch, and the knowledge that she wanted him only fueled his hunger. His body hammered with need. It took every ounce of his resolve not to feed it.

  He stepped back. “What do you want from me?” he asked roughly, dragging his fingers through his hair.

  “Nothing,” she replied automatically.

  “I think you do.”

  He could see the hot blush stain her cheeks, and she looked flustered. “I told you I was worried.”

  “As you can see, there was no cause for concern. Return to the masque.”

  Despite the curt dismissal, she didn’t budge an inch. “Why did seeing Dougal MacDonald anger you so?”

  Alex stilled. Meg had a way of peeling off the layers and cutting right to the core. He schooled his features into a model of indifference. “The MacLeods and MacDonalds are enemies.”

  Clearly, his explanation did not satisfy her. Not only was she direct and to the point herself, but she had an uncanny ability to appraise those around her in the same way. Never before had he met another woman who was so confident in her ability to see the truth. “Is that all?” she asked patiently.

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Return to the masque, Meg. But take my advice. Stay away from Dougal MacDonald. He is not the man for you.”

  Damn. Alex heard sounds behind them, coming from the direction of the antechamber. If the lord chancellor and the secretary found him here, he risked someone asking questions about what he was doing lurking in a secluded corridor so close to the door of a secret meeting. Nor did he trust Meg not to blurt out the same question.

  He had to stop her from talking.

  A floorboard creaked behind him. They were coming this way. He had to do something. He didn’t have a choice. There was only one thing to do. What he’d ached to do since the first moment he’d seen her. He’d finish what he’d started on the balcony.

  “Why—”

  But her words were cut off when, without warning, he pushed her back against the wall, screening her face from the curious men intent on discovering the source of their interruption and them from hers. He didn’t want her to see who had been in the room. He knew her; she’d ask too many questions.

  “What are you doing?” She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly in his grasp.

  He wrapped his hand around her small waist, turning her slight body into his. His body reacted instantaneously. He nearly groaned with the erotic sensation of her hips molded snugly against the crook of his pelvis. Relief pulsed through his body. His cock rose hard against her. No doubt she could feel the proof of his desire even through her gown. Did her body dampen for him? The erotic thought only fueled his agony.

  He heard her sharp intake of breath. The gaze that met his was not quite so self-assured. Alex’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous grin. Those beautiful green eyes fringed with sooty black lashes widened at the hard evidence of his arousal.

  The delicate arches of her brows peaked atop a worried forehead, an expressive compliment to the small wrinkle furrowing her tiny nose. She tipped her head back to meet his stare, and her loose curls tumbled lower down her back.

  “You should have just let me walk away,” he said, lowering his head.

  “You’re going to kiss me again,” she blurted out.

  Alex chuckled. Always so damn blunt. “Aye, but this kiss will be nothing like the first.” He tipped her chin and looked deep into her confused eyes, feeling the impossible lure of destiny. He’d been waiting too long to have her lips beneath his, to slide his tongue into the sweet recesses of her mouth, to taste her passion. And to unleash his own. His body strained to feel her pressed against him, responding to his kiss.

  This time there would be no holding back.

  The dark, sensual promise of his words coiled inside her. Dear God, he was going to kiss her. And this time it would not be so gentle. Her body felt taut with anticipation, and her heart fluttered wildly in its small cage. Anticipation, she acknowledged. But this wasn’t what she’d wanted when she’d come after him…was it?

  Meg had seen his expression in the hall and simply reacted. Her only thought had been to find him and discover what had caused him pain. Tonight, she’d caught a glimpse of the dark turmoil simmering beneath the surface. She’d seen him angry before, yes, but nothing like the raw emotion she’d witnessed when he’d looked at Dougal MacDonald. But for a moment, before the cold, murderous rage set in, there had been a bleakness in his gaze of such immeasurable pain, it had cut her to the quick. It was as if he’d bared a tiny window of his soul.

  He always appeared so remote and untouchable. A fierce, indestructible warrior in complete control of everything around him. But seeing Dougal had caused a crack, even if only a temporary one, in that wall of reserve. Alex wasn’t detached at all, she realized. He felt things very strongly, more than she ever would have guessed.

  So she’d gone after him. But she’d sought only