Highland Lover. Hannah Howell
there is another wee lass roaming the country, aye? One just like you?”
“Nay. Keira is beautiful and clever and sweet and has a true healer’s touch. I am just a wee brown lass.”
Gregor looked down at her in surprise, but her eyes were closed again. “Ye are a bonnie wee lass.”
“Nay, just a wee lass. Keira is the bonnie one. Everyone loved Keira, and I cannae find her.”
“Ye will, lass. Cast off this fever, get weel and strong again, and we shall go ahunting.”
She did not really answer him, only muttered something about lack-witted brothers and smelly Gowans and fell asleep again. Gregor gently settled her back under the blanket and his plaid. As he stood up and stretched, he studied her. She was pale except for the scarlet tint of the fever in her blood, her hair was a dull brown as if her illness had stolen away all hue and shine, and her full lips looked as if they had been burned by the sun. Alana was definitely not looking her best, and yet, he had no difficulty seeing the beauty of her. He had to wonder who had given her the idea she was just a “wee brown lass.” He also wondered why he wished to find the one who had convinced her she was so plain and beat them until they could see more clearly.
Shaking away that thought, Gregor gently tied her down. He needed to leave her alone for a while as he searched out some food and wood. Although finding such things as a bucket, rope, and a few wooden plates and tankards had been helpful, he had found no livestock and only a few edibles in the tiny kitchen garden. Not only did he need something to eat, but some sort of broth was needed to feed Alana. She could not continue to fight off the fever unless she got some sustenance.
If not for the dangerous illness that had befallen Alana, Gregor would have thought them blessed. The snare he had set out earlier had caught a fat rabbit, and a more thorough search of the garden had uncovered a hearty assortment of vegetables and a few herbs he recognized. Though some were not fully mature, they were more than adequate for his needs. Even better, Alana was still sleeping when he returned, which allowed him the time to prepare the food and set it in the battered pot that had been left hanging in the fireplace.
It was as he was finishing his meal that Gregor noticed something odd about Alana. Her skin appeared to glisten where the light from the fire touched it. Setting down his bowl, he quickly moved to her side and felt her forehead. She was cool and covered in sweat. Gregor was so relieved at this sign that Alana’s fever had finally broken, he nearly cheered. He stepped around the cat that was greedily licking his bowl clean and fetched water and cloths to clean the sweat from her skin.
By the time Gregor got Alana clean and settled between dry blankets, he was knotted up with lust. It both annoyed and puzzled him. Despite the opinion of his eldest brother Ewan, Gregor had never had any trouble controlling his lusts. The fact that Alana was in need of his care, that she was ill and dependent upon him, should have been enough of a tether upon his baser feelings, but that tether had consistently failed him. He had never been so easily or fiercely stirred by the sight of a woman’s body or the feel of her skin. It would be easy to blame it on the fact that he had not had a woman in weeks, but Gregor could not convince himself of that. Something about Alana set his blood afire.
And that was something he had to think hard about, he decided as he draped the shift he had just rinsed clean over the bench to dry. Since the moment he had met Alana, his doubts about the wisdom of marrying Mavis had grown. Gregor knew that the possibility that Alana really was the child she pretended to be had helped keep his feelings for her in check, but that restraint had been shattered the moment he had removed her binding.
Gregor settled himself next to Alana, grimacing when she curled up next to him. When they had shared a bed before, she had been clothed and he had thought she might be the child she claimed to be. Now, she was naked and he was well aware of every soft, womanly curve of her body. Feverishly, achingly aware. It was a hunger that seemed to possess every part of him, and not just his heedless groin.
In the past, he would simply have seduced her, fed his lusts, and walked away. That was not a game he could play with Alana, and not simply because she might well be a Murray, a wellborn lass with a vast army of kinsmen behind her, ready and willing to avenge any insult to her. Alana meant something to him, although he was not exactly sure what or how deep that feeling went. The unsettling feeling that if he made love to Alana, he would not be able to walk away also prompted him to be cautious.
He had some hard decisions to make, but he was too exhausted to make them now. Later, when his wits were sharp again and he was not feeling so needy. A few facts were needed as well, he mused as he closed his eyes. Facts such as exactly who she was, why she was wandering about alone, what had happened to her sister, and if she already belonged to someone. The thought that Alana might already belong to some other man chilled Gregor, and he hurriedly pushed that thought from his mind. Aye, he thought, there were decisions to make, and as soon as Alana was awake and clear-eyed, he would get the answers he needed to make them.
Chapter 5
There was a hunchbacked man sleeping next to her. Alana closed her eyes and slowly opened them again. He was still there. When the hump upon his back moved, she nearly leapt out of the bed. The fact that she was too weak to move so quickly was all that kept her in place long enough for good sense to prevail.
The man sleeping next to her had long, shining black hair. His scent was familiar to her. Even the weight of the arm draped around her waist and the sound of his breathing were familiar. It was Gregor sleeping next to her, she realized, and smiled faintly. She had fallen asleep to that not-quite-a-snore sound he made too many times not to recognize it now that she had a moment to think clearly.
Then Alana frowned. Since she did not believe someone could grow a lump upon his back in but a day or two, what was that lump? Cautiously, she lifted the covers, and her newly recovered calm immediately dissipated. The gray cat staring at her from its warm, comfortable place upon Gregor’s broad back did not disturb her at all. The fact that she was completely naked did, however. It disturbed her a lot.
She quickly lowered the covers, resisting the strong urge to see if Gregor was also naked, and clutched the blankets to her chest. A slight movement at her side drew her attention and she slowly turned her head. Alana found herself staring into Gregor’s beautiful eyes and felt herself blush.
“I am naked,” she whispered.
“Aye, lass, that ye are,” replied Gregor, idly wondering just how far down that deep blush went.
“Why am I naked?”
“Because ye were all asweat when your fever broke and I didnae think ye should be left lying in a damp shift. The other shift wasnae dry enough, either, and I had to rip up your third shift so that I would have rags to wash ye down with.” As he watched the import of those words sink into her mind, Gregor was amazed at how her blush deepened, for he would not have thought she could get any redder.
“I had a fever?” Alana asked and immediately began to recall several things that she had thought were only strange dreams. “Ah, I think I do recall feeling ill. How long was I feverish?”
“Nearly three days.”
Alana stared down at her hands, still clutching the blanket tightly against her chest, and idly noticed that those hands were no longer bandaged and were nearly healed. She knew she ought to be deeply embarrassed by the knowledge that Gregor had cared for her for nearly three days. Now she could recall the feel of a cool cloth bathing her skin, easing the heat that ravaged her body. There would have been other intimacies as well. Yet all she could think of was that he now knew she was no child. Her breasts might not be large, but he could hardly have missed them when he removed her binding.
He knew she had lied to him. Perhaps lie was too strong a word, she thought. She had simply not corrected his assumption. Alana inwardly cursed. It was a lie and it revealed a lack of trust she truly had not felt. It was going to be difficult to explain why she had not told him the truth, especially since she was not completely sure of the why of it herself.
She looked at him again. He was watching her closely,