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Authors: Diana Cosby

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BOOK: An Oath Sworn
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Alesia watched him, her full lips tempting, threatening to destroy his will.
Nay, he wasna going to kiss her. He would be a fool to consider such. Hadna he spent the last several minutes reasoning the harm in doing exactly that?
“Colyne?”
The raw yearning within her words ripped through his good intention like a well-honed blade. With a curse, he cupped her face.
Alesia's eyes darkened with understanding—a split second before Colyne claimed her mouth.
Chapter 6
H
eat. It washed through Marie, overwhelmed her until all she could do was cling. Though she'd been kissed before, never had it been this potent, this intense, or this exquisite. Colyne's mouth moved over hers with deft sureness, giving, taking, luring her to respond until her blood flowed wild. Though their bodies were snug, she wanted more.
With his eyes locked on hers, he began to touch her, caress her as if he knew her every secret place, and her body burned until she thought she would ignite. On a rough breath, his fingers skimmed along the curve of her neck and then began to loosen the ties of her gown.
A shiver of anticipation slid through her.
This moment.
This day.
This man . . . everything was perfect.
As he inched the delicate fabric past her shoulders, night-dampened air whispered across her exposed breast and mingled with the heat of Colyne's touch. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he caught her nipple between his lips.
Sensation shattered her every thought.
“Elizabet.”
Marie froze.
Elizabet?
She plunged to realty with a sickening lurch.
Colyne's eyes widened at the realization of what he'd said, the fire within shattering to panicked disbelief. “Oh, God. I am sorry.”
She shoved away from him as her cheeks burned with mortification and jerked up her gown. The entire time he'd been kissing her, touching her, he'd been thinking of another!
He reached toward her. “Alesia, I—”
“Stay away from me!” Her words trembled, filled with the shame of what she'd allowed. Memories of how the Earl of Archerbeck, a man she'd loved in her past, and a man who had used her for his own gain, had tainted her senses like bile in her throat. An ache built inside. She knew better than to trust a man, a lesson Archerbeck had taught her all too well.
“How dare you!” Shaking with disbelief at her own weakness, Marie took another step back. How could she have allowed a stranger past her barriers? Have responded to him with complete abandon?
Or wanted him even now?
A ruddy hue swept across his cheeks. He shook his head. “You do nae understand.”
“You are wrong,” she replied with as much dignity as she could muster. “I understand completely.”
He caught her shoulders as she turned to run.
Marie glared at him, unsure if anger or humiliation guided her actions. Or both. “Release me!”
As he stared at her, his eyes darkened with sorrow, and she remembered him mumbling Elizabet's name during his fever. “You love her?” At his silence, she wrenched free. She was a fool to punish herself this way, but she needed to hear him admit the truth.
He watched her a moment longer, the regret in his eyes matching her own.
“Colyne,” she urged.
A muscle worked in his jaw, and then his expression grew unreadable. “'Tis nae a subject I will be wanting to discuss.”
The quiet calm of his voice stoked her ire. How could he retreat with such stoic efficiency while her emotions still roiled? “I did not ask for your kiss.”
“You did nae,” he rasped.
“After what has passed between us, do you not think I deserve an explanation?”
Apology burned in his deep blue eyes. He swallowed hard. “Elizabet is someone I once cared about. She chose another.”
Cared about?
From the heartache in his words, he loved Elizabet still. “Why did you kiss me?”
“When I awoke with you in my arms . . . God help me, I wanted you.”
“
Non
,” she charged, angry he'd used her in place of another woman. “You wanted Elizabet. Deny it.”
Anger clouded his face. As quick, defeat. “You are wrong, 'twas you who drew me.”
Marie opened her mouth to disagree and then refrained. As if her own actions were proper? She was promised to Gaston de Croix, Duke of Vocette. A marriage that would take place before summer's end. Yet she had returned Colyne's kisses, shivered at his touch, as if she had the right to give her favors to another man.
Her guilt grew.
How could she condemn Colyne for saying the name of a woman he obviously loved? He had his own life, one that didn't include her.
Rain pattered against her skin.
Marie brushed several wet strands of hair from her face as she composed herself, drawing on the diplomacy she'd honed over the years. She needed to focus on reaching her father and telling him the truth of her abduction, not yearn for a man in love with another.
“We must find shelter,” she said, thankful for the calmness of her voice.
“Nae, we must continue on.”
She frowned. “We?”
“I will be taking you to the coast. There I shall speak with a friend who will offer you protection and arrange passage for you to France.”
He didn't add more; she didn't need him to. His solemn tone said everything. Once she was in safe hands, they'd part ways forever.
 
Hours later, Colyne studied the turbulent skies. Since they'd started out that morning, it had continued to rain, at times so hard they were forced to seek temporary shelter beneath trees or rocks.
Guilt knifed him as he glanced toward Alesia, walking at his side. How could he have spoken Elizabet's name? In the few kisses he and Elizabet had shared, never had she inspired a fragment of the feelings Alesia evoked.
The full impact of his musings left him stunned. For the first time since Elizabet had wed, the woman he'd loved since his youth hadna been on his mind. Nay, she'd been there, buried beneath conscious thought, where memories of her lingered and would continue to haunt him. Exhaustion had allowed Elizabet's name to escape from the recesses of his mind.
Nae desire.
The reasoning should have left him satisfied, but if he loved Elizabet, how could he be so drawn to this elusive enchantress? Or were his longings those of a man desperate to find relief from the pain of losing the woman he loved?
His steps faltered. Mayhap with the secret Alesia kept, he found her safe in that he could never trust her enough to fall in love with her?
Colyne glanced toward her. Though she masked her hurt with a noble front, he saw the confusion she fought to disguise.
The pain he had caused.
Damn him, he'd taken liberties where he'd had nay right. From this moment on, he'd nae touch her again, would keep his focus on delivering the writ to King Philip—where it should have remained from the start.
To make amends for hurting her, he would escort her to Glasgow and procure arrangements for her continued travel, and then secure his own passage to France.
Thunder echoed through the darkened skies. The warm rain of this morning had grown cool. Now, it pounded the earth, creating a layer of mist swirling inches above the ground in a blur of white.
He silently cursed the weather as they walked, their steps muted by the damp earth. They were both soaked to the bone. Though clumps of rock jutted out from shallow cliffs around them, he'd yet to find shelter large enough to offer adequate protection.
Colyne stepped over a log, and the writ secured within its hidden compartment rubbed against his side. He frowned. King Philip's bastard daughter was still hidden somewhere in the Highlands.
Or had the other Scots searching for the lass found her?
Please, let her be safe.
God help them if they found her dead.
In the misty silence, Alesia's stomach growled.
Colyne took in her cool expression as she stared straight ahead. They walked beneath an old oak, its leaves sheltering them from most of the rain. He halted. “We will stop here and eat.”
The lass kept walking.
“Alesia—”
She whirled. “I have changed my mind, monsieur.” Each icy word issued emphasized her regal control. “It is best if we separate. I will find my own way to France.” With her head held high and the rain pelting her body, she strode off in a different direction.
Colyne stared, amazed at her defiance. The stubborn fool. Did she think she could travel through the Highlands without a care? Had she forgotten men intent on killing her prowled the woods? Or did she despise him so much that she preferred risking her life rather than enduring his company? “Alesia!”
She didna look back.
A crushing weight settled over his chest.
Let her go.
'Twas best to be rid of the lass, of the complications she brought, the unwanted emotions she aroused. As her outline blurred in the downpour, Colyne cursed, then broke into a run. He'd vowed to protect her, and by God, he would keep his word whether she liked it or nae. “Alesia, stop!”
She broke into a run.
A sword's wrath! With long, ground-eating strides, he caught her arm as she started down a steep hill. She whirled on him like a wildcat, all claws and fury. “Leave me alone!”
“Alesia—”
“Non.”
She yanked her arm back and lost her footing. The combination of the sharp decline and their awkward stance threw them both off-balance.
Colyne slammed against the ground, with Alesia landing on his chest. Leaves squished beneath them as they started to slide down the muddied bank. She tried to shove free, but he held her tight. As they shuddered to a halt, in a quick move, he rolled on top of her and pinned her to the ground.
Flecks of moss and pine wove through her damp, honey-colored hair as she glared up at him.
A face that would haunt him with its beauty, a woman whose spirit lured him until it was hard to breath. He would have let her go, should have, but beneath her anger he saw the passion still burning hot. And all his good intentions fled.
He leaned closer.
Alesia's eyes widened with panic. “Get—”
Colyne claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, his lips moving across hers with relentless possession. After a moment's hesitation, she buried her fingers in his wet hair and pulled him closer.
Thunder boomed nearby.
Blood pounding, he broke free and stared at her mouth, swollen with his kisses, her eyes dark with passion. “This time when I kissed you, Alesia,” he rasped, “I was thinking only of you!”
Red scorched her cheeks. Her chest heaved. “And that is supposed to make me forgive your actions?”
“Nay.” He released her. Curses. He'd only meant to . . .
She scrambled to her feet and took a shaky step back. “Do not,” she ordered when he started to rise.
Colyne stood, the warrior in him demanding her complete surrender, the strategist understanding that if he pushed her now, he could destroy any remaining trust between them.
Trust.
As if, after his actions this day, he deserved any from her?
“What do you want from me?” she asked, the quiver in her voice blurring his objectivity.
For the first time in his life, he wasna sure. “I do nae know.”
Eyes fragile with pain watched him. “At least you are honest.”
“You understand naught. I—”
What? Want you? Need to explain how, for some reason, you are able to make me forget the pain of losing the woman I loved?
He fisted his hands at his sides and then slowly released them. Somehow he had to repair the breech he'd constructed between them. Or at least try. “Let me take you to the coast. Please.”
Moss-green eyes narrowed. “I can make it there by myself.”
He would have smiled at her stubbornness if the situation wasna so dire. “Alesia,” he said gently, “you are traveling north.”
“I—” She glanced toward the direction in which she was headed, then back toward him, her blush darkening a shade deeper. “I was upset. I would have realized my error and corrected my direction.” Her cold glare dared him to disprove her claim.
“You will be needing my guidance. Besides the arduous travel, predators live within these woods. Neither can you forget the men searching for us.”
At the reminder, her face paled, but determination creased her jaw as well.
She didna like it. He didna expect her to. From the short time he'd known her, if nothing else, he'd learned she wasna a foolish woman.
Alesia tilted her chin. “I could make it.”
He suppressed the smile warring to break free. “Of that I have nay doubt.”
Marie nodded, appeased by Colyne's agreement. “We shall travel together, but only if you keep your distance.”
“In the future, I will take naught that you do nae offer freely.”
A grumble of disgust fell from her lips. “As if I would let you touch me again.” But even as she said the words, she knew she'd lied. Her skin still tingled where his fingers had caressed her, and her body ached where he had not. She might as well admit it: when it came to him, she wasn't immune.
BOOK: An Oath Sworn
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