his unruly body roused to her touch. Squeezing his eyes shut at the divine sensation, he growled in his throat—half in approval, half in anguish.
Like snow in the sun, his control melted away, leaving him in a puddle of his noble intentions.
She obviously wanted this as much as he did. Or perhaps Lowland lasses were just more forward about their needs than Highlanders. This lass certainly was. And she seemed to know exactly what she was doing.
It was possible she’d lied to Isabel about never killing a man. He was certain now she’d lied about never kissing a man. By the way she was caressing him, she’d done far more than kissing.
He leaned his brow upon hers, closing his eyes to relish the perfection of the moment before kissing her again. Her breath was like the warm breeze of summer. Her lips were as soft and sweet as peaches.
At her gentle urging, he grew more and more rigid by the moment in her hand. Then, inspired by her brazen gesture, he let his hands slide down from her face, past her throat, where her heart pulsed against his thumbs. His fingers brushed her delicate collarbone and then plunged farther, delving beneath the edge of her kirtle to claim the silken treasure of her ripe breasts.
One sharp gasp, and she snatched out of his grasp. Dropping him from her hand like a blade hot off the forge, she stepped away.
He reeled in disappointment, but not surprise. This was the reaction he’d predicted, after all. It had only been delayed. And now he half expected her to slap him for his insolence.
She didn’t. She blushed, lowered her eyes, muttered under her breath—a stammer of disbelief or apology, he wasn’t sure which—and stumbled toward the door.
He should have been pleased. He’d succeeded. He’d distracted her so thoroughly, she’d completely forgotten about the notebook.
Yet that wasn’t what he felt as she fled, closing the door behind her with hollow finality. His loins ached. His hands felt empty. His heart sank.
What had started as a ploy had become real for him. He did desire the Valkyrie. He did want to kiss her. Hold her. Make love to her. And for one shining moment, he’d felt his affections returned.
But such dreams were foolish. She was his captor. He was her foe.
Clearing his throat, he shook off the dregs of desire. Raked his hair back. Adjusted his trews. And reached behind his back to retrieve the notebook.
It wasn’t there.
Chapter 20
Hallie fled down the corridor with breathless haste.
She should have been grinning in triumph. The notebook was snug in her satchel, bouncing against her hip as she took the stairs.
Yet all she felt were the pangs of guilt.
Why was she running?
She wasn’t fleeing Colban, though she felt compelled to get as far away from him as she could.
She was instead pursued by her own misplaced desires, from which there was no escape. She’d barely left with her dignity. Hell, she’d barely left with her virginity.
She hadn’t realized how hot the flame of lust would burn between them. Like an entranced moth, she’d strayed too close. Now her wings were singed, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to fly from him again.
When she emerged onto the great hall, Isabel was there, chatting excitedly with her friends. They silenced at her appearance.
“Hallie, what’s wrong?” Isabel asked.
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” Holy hell, could they tell? Was it obvious? Did the glow of seduction linger on her face?
“You look…troubled,” Isabel said. Then her slim brows rose together in a wrinkle of dismay. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Oh nay. You hurt him, didn’t you?”
Irritation flared in her at Isabel’s assumption.
“I didn’t touch him.” She flushed at her own outright lie. She had indeed touched him. In a very inappropriate manner.
Isabel squinted her eyes in suspicion. “Then why are you upset?”
“I’m not upset,” she said, adding pointedly, “At least I wasn’t.”
That was another lie. Hallie was absolutely upset. Why? She wasn’t sure. After all, she’d won, hadn’t she? She’d outwitted Colban and taken the notebook straight off of his person.
Thankfully, Isabel abandoned her line of questioning. She brightened and announced, “Never mind. I have just the thing to cheer you up.”
Her group of maidens giggled and nodded.
“We’re assembling an entertainment.”
Hallie knew better than to be pleased by that news. Isabel’s schemes oft went awry. “What sort of entertainment?”
Isabel shrugged. “Some music. Some dancing. A play.”
It seemed harmless. And it would keep Isabel occupied and away from the hostage. “Fine.”
Isabel turned