Craving the Highlander's Touch Read Online Free PDF Page A

he knew it was an impossibility. “When I was dreaming…I didn’t touch you, did I?”
    Her hand moved to touch her lips. She closed her eyes for a moment, her face going pale. “You didn’t mean to.”
    So he had.
    Saints above, no wonder she was staring at him with such fear. He remembered little of it, only the warmth of skin and the shuddering answer of her desire. From the terrified look on her face, he feared that he’d given her many reasons not to stay in his bedchamber.
    And after the door closed behind her, he shuttered his eyes, gripping the coverlet. Hating himself for what he’d done.
    Alys awakened at dawn and crept down the stairs, tiptoeing past Finian’s brother Brochain and their sleeping kinsmen. Though it was cool outside, she longed for a moment to herself. She’d slept fitfully beside Iliana, her mind reliving the moment when Finian had touched her. When he’d realized what he’d done, she’d seen the fleeting horror on his face. And though he’d given her a moment of stolen pleasure, she despised herself for letting desire overcome her common sense.
    She clasped her arms around her chest as she walked around the burned ruins of the outer wall. It was silent within the fortress, and yet, she couldn’t savor the peace of the moment. Many had died here, not just yesterday or the day before, but for as long as she’d been in Scotland. She could sense the ghosts of the prisoners haunting her.
    And when a soldier rode through the gate, her hand flew to her throat, her pulse racing.
    The stocky black-bearded guard dismounted in front of her. He rested his hand upon his sword while he gripped a shield in the other hand.
    “Sir Geoffrey,” Alys breathed, recognizing one of her husband’s knights. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone with the others.”
    “And I thought this place had burned to the ground.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I find it interesting that you remained behind with the MacLachors. Turning traitor, Lady Harkirk?”
    She took a step backwards, unsure of whether or not he posed a threat. “What do you want?”
    “Your husband collected thousands of pieces of silver over the years, didn’t he? It’s here somewhere. Unless you gave it over to the murdering Scots.”
    She didn’t know what he was talking about. “There is nothing here, save some old weapons and things that belonged to Robert.”
    “Oh, there is. And you’re going to find it for me.” He reached forward, and though Alys tried to flee, she wasn’t fast enough. His hand gripped her cloak, dragging her forward. “Your husband’s dead now. And you’ve given his food, his shelter, to his enemies. I imagine King Edward would be interested to hear of it.”
    Alys tried to free herself from Sir Geoffrey’s grip, but he seized her hair and jerked her head up to look at him. “Find the silver, Lady Harkirk, and bring it to our camp by morning.”
    “I can’t,” she insisted. “I don’t know of any silver.”
    “Find it,” he ordered. “Or I’ll bring charges of murder against you. I’ll tell the king that you plotted against your husband and paid the Scots to kill him. Everyone will believe you turned traitor.”
    His fingers reached around her throat, tightening against her windpipe. “They’ll hang you for conspiring with the Scots…if you’re fortunate to have such a merciful death.” He released her, and Alys gasped for air. Terror pounded through her as the knight mounted his horse and disappeared through the gates.
    Would he truly tell such lies? Would anyone believe him? Though she’d done nothing wrong, she feared that there was enough evidence for Sir Geoffrey’s twisted truth to make others believe it. She had released many of her husband’s prisoners. And she was harboring the enemy right now, within these walls. There was no denying it.
    She needed to leave, to get as far away from here as she could. But where? Whom could she trust?
    Alys heard a slight