He did not know, but he was going to find out.
He waited until she was out of sight, then turned back into the drawing office, closing the door behind him, searching quickly and neatly through the drawers and cupboards. He found endless drawings and designs that paid tribute to the duke’s extravagant plans and wild flights of imagination, but nothing that related either to Peter or to the whisky smuggling. He had not expected it, but he was starting to feel frustrated by his lack of progress. In the past week he had caught not a whisper about Peter’s murder. Later that evening he planned to search for the sea cave where the smugglers had held him on the first night. It was dangerous, but he would be a great deal more careful this time.
Lachlan and Angus MacMorlan were handing their horses over to one of the grooms as Lucas closed the door of the drawing office behind him and started to walk across the yard. It was the first time Lucas had seen Lachlan, who rumor had it was usually so addled with drink that he seldom got out of bed before the afternoon. Lachlan possessed the good looks that were such a distinct feature of the MacMorlan family, but his eyes were bloodshot and his gait unsteady. Angus was a big, fleshy man with an air of superiority and a long nose that seemed perfectly engineered to look down. Neither man thanked the groom nor acknowledged Lucas’s presence with a single word or look. The groom caught Lucas’s glance and rolled his eyes meaningfully. Lucas grinned.
It was as the two men were disappearing through the archway that Lachlan turned and looked back. For a moment it seemed to Lucas as though Lachlan’s gaze shed its blurred drunkenness and focused on him, clear and hard, and then Lachlan turned away and stumbled off toward the house as though the moment had never been.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A LLEGRA HEARD THE music as she came down the path toward the bay. It was the high, thin sound of the fiddle, snatched on the breeze and tossed away out to sea. She hurried, the sand and pebbles slipping beneath the thin soles of her shoes. As she half ran, half stumbled down onto the beach the music stopped abruptly and strong arms seized her, pulling her behind a tumble of rocks.
They wasted no time on words. She was in his arms and he was kissing her like a man half starved. He tugged the ribbons of her bonnet and threw it aside. The wind had already whipped her hair into tangled strands and he gave a groan as he plunged one hand into the shining gold. She kissed him back eagerly, trembling helplessly, feeling as though her heart was bursting with relief and love and pleasure. When he held her she could forget all the barriers they faced. Nothing mattered other than that they were together again.
“You came for me,” she whispered when he released her for a moment.
“Did you doubt me?” He sounded amused, but his brown eyes were dark with passion. He kissed her again and her knees weakened. She clutched at his jacket and they sank down onto the sand. It was warm in the sun, and sheltered between the rocks, but when he slid the gown from her shoulders she still shivered at the nip of the sea air. The rock felt hot against her bare back, and the sunlight beat against her closed lids. She kept her eyes shut because although he had seen her naked before, she was still very shy. She liked the wickedness of it, the chill of the breeze and the warmth of the sun and his mouth now at her breast, but she was not ready to admit it yet. It was too new to her, each new intimacy as shocking as it was delicious.
She opened her eyes a sliver and looked down at his head at her breast. His hair, a rich chestnut in the sunlight, brushed the sensitive skin there, and she shivered in deep pleasure. His lips and his fingers worked magic on her. Her body was heating, melting. There was such a sweet ache in her belly. It made her moan. He licked her nipple, tasting her, and her entire body jerked in uninhibited response. Her
He waited until she was out of sight, then turned back into the drawing office, closing the door behind him, searching quickly and neatly through the drawers and cupboards. He found endless drawings and designs that paid tribute to the duke’s extravagant plans and wild flights of imagination, but nothing that related either to Peter or to the whisky smuggling. He had not expected it, but he was starting to feel frustrated by his lack of progress. In the past week he had caught not a whisper about Peter’s murder. Later that evening he planned to search for the sea cave where the smugglers had held him on the first night. It was dangerous, but he would be a great deal more careful this time.
Lachlan and Angus MacMorlan were handing their horses over to one of the grooms as Lucas closed the door of the drawing office behind him and started to walk across the yard. It was the first time Lucas had seen Lachlan, who rumor had it was usually so addled with drink that he seldom got out of bed before the afternoon. Lachlan possessed the good looks that were such a distinct feature of the MacMorlan family, but his eyes were bloodshot and his gait unsteady. Angus was a big, fleshy man with an air of superiority and a long nose that seemed perfectly engineered to look down. Neither man thanked the groom nor acknowledged Lucas’s presence with a single word or look. The groom caught Lucas’s glance and rolled his eyes meaningfully. Lucas grinned.
It was as the two men were disappearing through the archway that Lachlan turned and looked back. For a moment it seemed to Lucas as though Lachlan’s gaze shed its blurred drunkenness and focused on him, clear and hard, and then Lachlan turned away and stumbled off toward the house as though the moment had never been.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A LLEGRA HEARD THE music as she came down the path toward the bay. It was the high, thin sound of the fiddle, snatched on the breeze and tossed away out to sea. She hurried, the sand and pebbles slipping beneath the thin soles of her shoes. As she half ran, half stumbled down onto the beach the music stopped abruptly and strong arms seized her, pulling her behind a tumble of rocks.
They wasted no time on words. She was in his arms and he was kissing her like a man half starved. He tugged the ribbons of her bonnet and threw it aside. The wind had already whipped her hair into tangled strands and he gave a groan as he plunged one hand into the shining gold. She kissed him back eagerly, trembling helplessly, feeling as though her heart was bursting with relief and love and pleasure. When he held her she could forget all the barriers they faced. Nothing mattered other than that they were together again.
“You came for me,” she whispered when he released her for a moment.
“Did you doubt me?” He sounded amused, but his brown eyes were dark with passion. He kissed her again and her knees weakened. She clutched at his jacket and they sank down onto the sand. It was warm in the sun, and sheltered between the rocks, but when he slid the gown from her shoulders she still shivered at the nip of the sea air. The rock felt hot against her bare back, and the sunlight beat against her closed lids. She kept her eyes shut because although he had seen her naked before, she was still very shy. She liked the wickedness of it, the chill of the breeze and the warmth of the sun and his mouth now at her breast, but she was not ready to admit it yet. It was too new to her, each new intimacy as shocking as it was delicious.
She opened her eyes a sliver and looked down at his head at her breast. His hair, a rich chestnut in the sunlight, brushed the sensitive skin there, and she shivered in deep pleasure. His lips and his fingers worked magic on her. Her body was heating, melting. There was such a sweet ache in her belly. It made her moan. He licked her nipple, tasting her, and her entire body jerked in uninhibited response. Her
Similar Books
