Highland Vampire. Hannah Howell

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Highland Vampire - Hannah  Howell

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smothered the urge to flee before Jankyn reached them. Burying the feelings that kiss had caused would be difficult if he thought to pursue her, but she refused to run and hide. There was also the chance that such cowardice would tell Jankyn far too much about how she felt. A woman immune to his allure did not flee from him. It was difficult to remain calm, however, when Barbara slipped away soon after greetings were exchanged.

      “I am pleased that ye havenae allowed what those two fools tried to do to ye to make ye hide yourself away,” Jankyn said as he leaned against the wall by her side.

      It did not please Jankyn that he had felt so compelled to see her. Nor did it please him that he had felt no inclination to answer Lady Eleanor’s less-than-subtle invitation to indulge in a night of lechery. His body ached for a woman, but he had the feeling it now hungered for just one. He needed to cure himself of that affliction, but he was not sure how to do so. Just standing near Efrica had him taut with need.

      “I refuse to let them think themselves of any importance to me,” replied Efrica.

      “But ye will avoid them, aye?”

      “Like the plague.”

      Jankyn nodded, thought about what he should or should not say, then decided that being direct was best. “I think we need to talk about what happened last eve.”

      “Ye rescued me and then I rescued you.” She tried not to blush beneath his stare but suspected she was not completely successful.

      “Ye ken what I refer to, lass. We need to discuss what stirred between us when we embraced.”

      “Twas but a kiss, Jankyn. I have been kissed before.”

      For a brief moment, Jankyn almost believed she had felt little, had not experienced the depth of hunger he had, but then he noticed how she avoided his gaze. “And did ye let any of those men get ye beneath them? Did ye purr for them, Efrica?” He nodded with satisfaction when she glared at him. “We both felt it. We both felt the heat, the need.”

      Efrica refused to be flattered by his admission that the kiss had stirred him as well. “Lust. Tis no great thing. I am nay a child now so ’tis no surprise a skilled mon might stir a lusting within me. And from what I have heard, stirring a lusting in ye just requires a woman to give ye a smile.”

      “Curse it, Efrica, cease condemning me for taking what was freely offered, as any mon would do. I am without bonds and owe no one any explanation or apology.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how she could make him feel so guilty, even ashamed. “Aye, when I first arrived here, the interest I drew was a heady thing. I have ne’er left Cambrun save to go to some kinsmon’s lands. It was a pleasure which waned verra quickly for I soon realized it wasnae truly a simple giving and taking of pleasure.”

      Although she truly hated hearing him speak of the other women he had been with, curiosity prompted her to ask, “What else could it have been?”

      “The scent of new prey? The scent of mysteries and secrets? I was the dark, dangerous lover, the mon of shadows. A bold dare accepted. A challenge. Who could uncover my secrets? I was but another pelt to collect.”

      “Ah, I see. The women treated ye as men so often treat women.”

      That was an uncomfortable truth he had faced himself just recently, but refused to admit it. “I thought I had slipped into this life with ease, had become one of them, but realized that wasnae so.”

      “Is that one of the reasons ye came here? To see if ye could become one of them?”

      Jankyn shrugged. “The thought had crossed my mind. Ye ken Cathal’s plans to bring the MacNachtons out of the shadows,” he began.

      “Aye, he plans to breed the MacNachtons out of their caves.” She forced herself not to blush with guilt beneath the condemning glance he gave her.

      “Ye ken as weel as I that Cathal and Bridget are true mates, bound by vows and their hearts.” He briefly smiled. “And your sister, having just gifted our laird with a second pair of bairns, is doing more than her share of the work. Willingly and joyously.”

      Thinking of her new niece and nephew, Efrica had to smile as well. Bridget would have her hands full with those two, as she did with her twin sons now two. Then Efrica thought of her other niece and nephew, children bred when her brothers had dallied with some MacNachton women during one of their visits, women they had not married, and she frowned at Jankyn.

      “Have ye come here to breed?” she asked.

      “Of course not,” he snapped, then sighed. “Since I first became a mon, I have hardly been a monk, have I?—yet the only child I e’er bred was David and I asked that lass to marry me. She decided to stay with her own kind. So, nay, the thought of breeding didnae bring me here. Since the outside world is creeping e’er nearer to our sanctuary, I thought it might be wise to let them ken a MacNachton or two, to set the image of a mon in their minds instead of naught but dark rumor. Tisnae working out quite like I planned, although I have made a few good friends amongst the lairds. Unfortunately, the explanations for why I am ne’er about in the day make that a difficult task.”

      “What explanations do ye give?”

      He grimaced. “That I cannae abide the sun or verra strong light because it hurts my eyes and my skin is quick to burn.” Jankyn scowled at her when she giggled. “It makes me sound a most delicate flower, I ken it. I had to make sure a few saw me practicing some of the more monly arts with David to soften the shame of it.” He suddenly turned, resting his shoulder against the wall so that he could watch her more closely as he spoke. “And we have veered widely from the matter I thought we should discuss.”

      Efrica crossed her arms over her chest. “What needs to be said? Twas just a kiss.”

      “Lass, trust me to ken about such things. Twas nay just a kiss. Ye ken it as weel as I do. The heat, the need, came upon us fast and hard. We need to be honest about it or we cannae fight it.”

      “I am nay some wanton lass who—” The touch of his finger upon her lips silenced her as warmth flooded her.

      “Aye, ’tis there,” he said softly, forcing himself to remove his finger from her far-too-tempting mouth. “I dinnae imply that ye are wanton, lass. This isnae about morals. Tis about passion, the passion that stirs within us for each other. Unless we accept that truth, we could easily fall into its trap.”

      “Then dinnae kiss me again.”

      “I willnae. We are going to keep a verra respectful distance between us as of now.”

      It was exactly what she wanted. Efrica wondered why she felt irritated and hurt that he would suggest it. That was dangerously contrary of her. She was obviously going to have to give herself some very stern lectures once she was alone.

      “That would probably be best,” she forced herself to say, pleased by how calm she sounded.

      “I will make that easier by getting back to work on one of the reasons I came to this cursed place.”

      “And that was?”

      “To find out more about my own heritage.” He stood up straight and gave in to the temptation to kiss her cheek. “Burying myself in dusty scrolls and ledgers should cool my blood.”

      Efrica

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