Highland Wolf by Hannah Howell

woman-to-woman talk o’er how verra fine that mon is. I hear ye can understand what he says e’en when he gets too, ah, impassioned to speak our language.”
    Annora wondered where a woman like Mab had learned a word like impassioned and then felt guilty for being so unkind, even if it was only in her thoughts. “I am afraid I cannae answer that question.”
    “Nay? Ye would have me believe that ye havenae been sniffing round that fine mon? That ye arenae trying to see if he is better in the bed than Egan?”
    “I cannae tell ye how weel or how badly Egan performs, either.” And Annora prayed to God that she would never find out.
    “Bah, arenae ye the sweet innocent? Weel, I ken what ye are thinking. Ye are thinking that I am naught but a whore and ye are looking down your fine nose at me, aye? Ye are naught but a bastard who goes from home to home doing work nay better than what I do. Just what makes ye think ye are so much better than I am?”
    I occasionally bathe , Annora thought and immediately wondered why she was consistently thinking such unkind things about this woman. It was so unlike her. At best she would think little or nothing at all about someone goading her as Mab was now. If she did think of anything, it was only about how quickly she could extract herself from the conversation and get far, far away.
    It all tasted far too much like jealousy to her. Reluctantly, Annora had to admit to herself that she loathed the very thought of Master Lavengeance and Mab doing anything more than shaking hands. She was not even sure she would like that, for it would mean he was touching the woman. Such feelings had to be some form of madness. True, she did find the man very attractive and she still felt warm all over when she recalled how he had kissed her, which was far too often for her peace of mind. That did not excuse this growing urge to do violence to Mab, or to feel as possessive of Master Lavengeance as she did. If nothing else, anything that grew between herself and the wood-carver could have no future and could even cause them a great deal of trouble with Donnell and Egan, dangerous trouble.
    “This is a foolish conversation,” Annora suddenly said and pushed Mab aside so that she could continue on to her room. “I do nay more at Dunncraig than care for Meggie. ’Tis all I do and weel ye ken it.”
    Mab’s derisive snort echoed down the hall, following Annora and making her leave-taking taste a little too much like a retreat. Annora muttered a curse to herself and refused to rise to that bait. A heavy, but soft sigh of relief escaped her when she heard Mab hurry away and she refused to look to see which direction the woman took. Mab was one of those women who had to have every man in reach, and Annora suspected that, even if the woman had never touched Master Lavengeance, she would dislike her. No one liked a greedy person, Annora thought, not caring if she sounded a little childish even to herself.
    Just as she walked by a small alcove near some steps that led to one of the tower rooms, Annora was grabbed by the arm and pulled deep into the shadows. A warm, soft mouth quickly smothered her instinctive scream. For a brief moment she was terrified that Egan had found her again. But then Annora recognized the taste of the man kissing her. She knew she ought to fight Rolf, knew she ought to be alarmed at how readily she recognized the man holding her so close, but she simply wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to the kiss.
    The moment the kiss ended, she struggled to regain her good sense, only to lose what little she had grabbed hold of a heartbeat later. He began to kiss her throat, pulling her hard up against his strong body even as he pushed her against the wall. She had the wild, fleeting thought that perhaps people did not need to be prone to make love.
    When Rolf nibbled on her ear, teasing it with his tongue, Annora shivered. She felt as if pure fire was rushing through her body.