Page 8 of Tempted
The corners of Meg’s mouth turned down in derision. “The jewel is cursed. Any who touch it will experience pain and sorrow.”
Tina looked at Meg, and suddenly amusement filled her eyes. The Gypsy was doing her very best to fill her with foreboding. There were no such things as curses. Everyone was responsible for their own fortune or misfortune in this world. “You are a terrible tease, Meg. Thank you for the potion. The ache in my tooth is completely gone.” She went to bid Heath good night so she could return to Doon before her absence was discovered. “Tomorrow night will you take me to see the Beltane fires?”
His teeth flashed. “What choice do I have? If I refuse, you will go alone.” He lifted her into her saddle and she confided, “Father sails tomorrow. I’ll be able to stay out all night!”
* * *
Ramsay Douglas thundered across the drawbridge at his castle, and the guard immediately drew it up and lowered the portcullis, preventing any other from entering. The guards had dubbed him Hotspur because he always rode hell for leather, even when he had a woman riding pillion.
Zara ran up the stairs ahead of Ramsay Douglas, lifting her red skirts high to display her bare ankles and shapely calves Ram followed carrying a blazing torch that flared and sputtered, casting long shadows against the rough stone walls.
Suddenly another man holding a torch high stood at the top of the stone steps. He moved on with a lurch after acknowledging them with a curt nod. Ram placed his torch in the iron cresset outside his door, and Zara flew into the large chamber that she’d first entered the previous spring. As Ram lit the lamps, she turned to him with a provocative pout on her lips. “He hates me!” she said.
“Colin doesn’t hate anyone. He’s too soft and gutless for that.”
“That was a look of disgust—I’m not blind.”
He grinned at her. “That look was for me My cousin disapproves of my wenching. He’d have me wed and breeding Douglas sons if he had his way, as would the rest of the clan.”
She came close and slipped her arms up about his neck and whispered, “In this castle I suspect it’s your way or no way.”
He looked down at her with an almost casual glance “Ye suspect right.” Though the hour was late, he seemed in no hurry, and Zara was piqued He continued his perusal of her person, of the small pointed breasts hardening beneath his glance, and the slanted eyes that gave her the look of her exotic ancestors. He touched the gold ring in her ear. “Did you lose the other earring I gave you, or did you pawn it?”
She gave him a provocative look. “It was the first real gold I ever earned. I shall keep it always—in a place that will do me the most good.” She was speaking in riddles, and he had neither time nor patience for women’s riddles. He pushed her away from him so that he could remove his leather jack. Her eyes widened when she saw he wore chain mail beneath it. His movements were so lithe, she hadn’t guessed he was wearing the heavy vest, but the Black Ram had too many enemies to go about unprotected.
As he removed his linen shirt, boots, and leather trews, her eyes became greedy as they slid over the pure male splendor of him. In contrast Zara wore only two garments, skirt and blouse. Ram’s deft fingers lifted the blouse over her head, and he said, “Let’s have a look at you, then,” holding her at arm’s length.
The tip of her red tongue came out to slowly circle her lips as she lifted her red skirts beneath her chin and posed for him. His dark eyes lost their casual look as they focused upon her triangle of tight black curls. “Jesu,” he breathed, “I thought I’d seen everything!”
The mate to her gold earring had been pierced and mounted at the tip of her mons. “This guarantees me more customers than I can ever accommodate. I am the highest-paid lay in Scotland, more famous than any courtesan. The king was enthralled.”
Ram whistled. “The king? How do we compare in bed?”
She lifted off her skirt and flung it across the chamber. “The king is not without talent, but you most definitely have the longer … wind!”
He let out a whoop and lifted her high as if she weighed no more than a feather. He tossed her onto the great bed and dove after her, his fingers seeking the gold bauble.
“‘Tis exactly the right size for a man to pass through before he enters the gates of Paradise,” she said, drawing her knees wide so the golden hoop dangled over her hot center.
“Then you’ve had inadequate lovers, my wild little Gypsy. My shaft is far too thick, as ye can plainly see…. However, if ye insist on playing games, I suppose I have other appendages will fit through.”
Chapter 3
Rob Kennedy had shrewdly guessed that his wife would manipulate him into allowing her a visit to her home in Carlisle. Her trunks were all packed by the time he was ready to set sail at midday. The five Kennedy offspring as well as the cousins from the other branches of the clan went down to the firth to watch them board the Thistle Doon and wave farewell to Lord and Lady Kennedy.
Tina had had all night to think about her father’s advice to choose her own husband, and she had decided to send him off with a tiny glimmer of hope. As they walked down to the ship, she slipped her arm about his girth, and he hugged her to him and again thought how like himself she was.
“How do you fancy an alliance with the Hamiltons?” she asked lightly.
He gave her a keen scrutiny. Was she hinting at the Earl of Arran’s heir? Jesu, James Hamilton, Earl of Arran was the grandson of King James II and Lord High Admiral of Scotland. “Are ye talking about Patrick Hamilton?”
“I decided long ago he’s the most eligible of all my suitors,” she said, smiling up at him.
“Yer a canny wee lass. Invite him to Doon,” he advised.
“The admiral has the king’s flagship anchored a mile away at Ayr, so Patrick won’t be a stranger to these parts.”
He grinned and hugged her to him. “I’ve nae doot ye’ll have the young stallion eatin’ out o’ yer hand.” He sobered and wagged an admonishing finger at her. “Just dinna let the laddie take gross an’ filthy advantage o’ ye, before ye bring him tae commit hissel!”
