o’er me.”
“Weel,” she grimaced, then smiled at him, “more like ride beside ye.”
It was all nonsense, of course, Alpin mused. Rowan branches, magical stones, special herbs, and all such trickery could not save him. The earnest hope in her lovely eyes both attracted and annoyed him. He wanted to savor the sweetness of it and crush it with the cold, heartless truth. She was going to drive him mad long before his affliction accomplished the deed.
Then he found himself asking when had anyone at Nochdaidh last felt any hope at all? When had anyone worked so hard to try to help him? Never in his memory was the answer. Alpin did not share her hope, but her desire to help touched some deep need within him. He put his hand on the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her long, soft hair, and pulled her mouth down to his. The feel of her slender body, the scent of her, and even her foolish plots to help him shattered his resistance. He had to kiss her, had to steal a taste of her sweet innocence, of her precious if fruitless hopes, and of her desire.
Sophie tensed as he brushed his lips over hers. Heat flooded her body and she gasped. Alpin’s kiss grew fierce and demanding as he invaded her mouth with his tongue. Such a sudden assault should have frightened or angered her, but it did neither. It inflamed her. Each stroke of his tongue coaxed forth a deep, searing need. She did not need to feel the telltale hardening of his lean body to know he desired her. She could feel it in his kiss, could taste it upon his tongue. That desire fed her own. The passion flaring to life within her was so heady, so sweet, she had no will to fight it.
“’Tis a strange place ye have chosen for some wooing,” drawled a deep voice, “and nay verra private, either.”
The kiss ended so abruptly, Sophie felt lost and unsteady. Alpin gracefully stood up with her in his arms, and set her on her feet. She swayed a little, then, realizing Eric stood there, nervously tried to tidy her appearance. Not only was she severely disappointed that the kiss was over, but she suddenly wished she were alone. After experiencing something so stirring, so shattering to her peace of mind, she would like a little privacy to sort out her feelings and thoughts. It would be easy enough to leave, but she did not want anyone to think she was fleeing out of embarrassment or shame.
“Sophie fell and I caught her,” Alpin said, giving Eric a hard look that dared the man to argue.
Eric met that gaze for a moment, then shrugged and moved to pick up the stool and chair. “What are these doing here?”
“The stool was upon the chair and Lady Sophie was upon the stool. I walked into them.”
“Why would ye do something like that, m’lady?” Eric asked, only to have Alpin silently reply by pointing to a spot above the doors. “Oh, I see. Rowan branches.”
“Aye,” replied Sophie. “’Tis said they protect against witches.”
“’Tis about four hundred and thirty years too late for that,” murmured Alpin, and met Sophie’s cross look with one raised brow. “Do ye plan to do a lot of this?”
“In every place I can. I have a few other ideas as weel. I dinnae suppose I can convince ye to wear an amulet or two, can I?”
“So I might rattle about the place like Nella? Nay, I think not.” He looked up at the rowan tree branches. “I must resign myself to the constant sight of dying greenery, must I? I think this might count as sorcery.”
“I consider it healing.” Seeing the look of amused disbelief in his eyes, Sophie decided it was time to retreat. “I shall just go and clean up,” she murmured as she hurried out the door.
Alpin was surprised when Nella glared at him before following Sophie. He shook his head and looked at Eric, only to find that man eyeing him with an uncomfortable intensity. Kissing Sophie had been an error in judgment. He had succumbed to a weakness, and, he mused, being caught at it was probably a just punishment.
“What ye saw was a moment of utter madness,” Alpin said before Eric could speak.
“Are ye certain that was all it was?” asked Eric.
“Aye, and that is all it ever can be. A woman like Lady Sophie Hay can ne’er be for me. She is all hope, sweetness, and smiles.”
“With a hearty serving of tartness, stubbornness, and passion.”
“Aye. A perfect mixture,” Alpin murmured and shook his head. “Sophie needs laughter, sun, and love. She cannae find any of that with me. Although I am drawn to her, the first woman to show no fear, to offer help, I must turn from her. When she realizes nothing she does will help, she will lose that innocent faith that is so alluring. If I try to hold her, she will see me become the creature my forefathers did. ’Tis cowardly, mayhap, but I find I cannae stomach the thought of watching her begin to fear me, revile me, to watch me become more beast than mon.”
“But she might be able to help you,” protested Eric.
“Nay, I doubt that verra much,” said Alpin as he picked up the chair and took it back to the table. “I dinnae doubt for one moment, however, that I will destroy her. If I try to hold her, I will simply smother all that sweet light with my own darkness. I am not yet beast enough to commit that sin.”
“Nella, I need some time alone,” Sophie said, halting her maid when the woman tried to follow her into the bedchamber they shared.
“But, m’lady,” Nella began to protest.
“I need to think, Nella. Just give me a wee while alone, then come help me ready myself to dine in the great hall.”
“Because the laird hurled ye to the floor and tried to ravish ye?”
“Actually, Nella, I fell, knocked him to the ground, and he kissed me. That is all. Now, go. Please. I will be fine.”
The moment Nella left, Sophie hurled herself facedown on the bed. She knew she had been attracted to the laird from the first moment she had set eyes on the man. Now, with one kiss, he had shown her that what she felt was far more than an interest in a mysterious, troubled, handsome man. She loved him. She loved a man who could not abide the sun, drank blood, ate raw meat, and could tear his enemies apart with his bare hands. Sophie doubted she could have handpicked a man more certain to ensure that she continued to walk the sad path trod by far too many Galt women before her.
Chapter Four
The curses were bellowed so loudly Sophie was surprised they did not shake loose a few of the stones in the thick walls of Nochdaidh. She was strongly tempted to ignore Alpin when he shouted her name. After all, he had ignored her very thoroughly for the last week. If not for the times she and he had crossed paths and she had caught a look in his eyes that could only be described as passionate, she could easily think he hated her. The only other times he had taken note of her existence was to flay her with his temper. She was only trying to help the ungrateful fool. It was hardly her fault he kept stumbling upon her shields and protections in ways that tended to cause him some minor injury. Did the man never sleep? she thought crossly.
“Sophie Hay!”
It was a little astonishing how that deep voice could penetrate such thick walls, she mused, as she rose from the pallet she slept on. Although it was not the most comfortable of beds, she far preferred it to the one she had been given. That bed had been the site of far too many trysts. Sensitive to such things, she
