“Y-you were…” Her gaze dipped to his shirtless chest—a very nice, very braw chest. Even in the dim light, she could discern the outline of musculature obviously developed after years of wearing mail and wielding a gargantuan sword. “Um…you were sleeping in my doorway?”
“The king entrusted me with your safety, did he not? It wouldn’t be forthright of me to make up a pallet below stairs in the great hall and leave two nuns alone in a keep full of Cunninghams, now would it?”
Ailish gulped. “For our protection?” she murmured absently, her gaze slipping to his mouth. Curiosity made her run her finger over his bottom lip, leaning nearer as her blood pulsed faster. “Do your lips always glisten in the dark?”
James’ warm breath caressed her cheek as his hand tightened on her waist and another slipped up the back of her neck, making tingles flutter down her arms.
As if pulled by a magical force, she inched closer until his lips brushed hers.
She gasped.
His fingers slipped into her hair while his mouth grew harder, more urgent. Unable to stop herself, Ailish followed his lead, closing her eyes. When his tongue lightly brushed her lips, she opened ever so subtly. She must have interpreted the cue correctly because with a feral moan, that devilish tongue swept into her mouth and danced in the most languid, erotic, entwining strathspey she’d ever imagined.
Impulse took over as she met him stroke for stroke, weaving her fingers through his thick mane of hair.
As they pulled away, he tapped his forehead to hers. “Forgive me.”
She swallowed against the thickening of her throat. Aye, Ailish knew sitting on a man’s lap and kissing him in the wee hours was enough to see her ruined. But no one and nothing had ever stirred her blood as James Douglas had done in this moment. “I must go.”
He helped her to her feet. But as she pulled away, he kept hold of her hands between his much larger palms and touched his lips to her forehead. “Sleep well, m’lady.”
Dazed, Ailish stumbled back to bed. Who knew her first kiss would leave her utterly breathless?
***
After the depression in the mattress popped up when Coira arose, Ailish rolled to her back and stretched. “Ahhh,” she sighed in a singsong warble. “What a fabulous day.”
Water trickled into the washbowl. “Aye, I slept sound which was a nice respite after suffering the rain and the mortifying English attack the night prior.”
Ailish smiled, her heart lighter than goose down. “A good night’s sleep is better than any tincture, for certain.”
“That it is, m’lady.” Coira blotted her face dry with a cloth. “You’d best wash. We’ve another long day of riding ahead of us.”
Ailish tossed aside the bedclothes and skipped to the washstand. She’d be riding with James this day. “Fa la de da fa la,” she sang.
“My heavens, I don’t believe I’ve seen you this happy since afore we fled Caerlaverock.”
“Oh?” Ailish hid her cringe by bending over the basin and splashing her face. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fumbled for the cloth. “I suppose I’m anxious to see Florrie and Harris.”
“I am as well,” Coira said, waving a hairbrush. “Though we’ve another night on the road afore we reach Lincluden.”
Ailish feigned a groan as the maid began to work through the knots that always managed to knit through her tresses when she was sleeping. “Do not remind me. I’m not comfortable to have Torquil riding with us, either. I loathe the way he ogles me.”
“Hmm, though he behaved better at the evening meal. Perhaps his da set him to rights.”
Deciding not to tell Coira that Sir James had slept outside their door obviously to protect them from the rogue, she grabbed her habit from the back of the chair and pulled it over her head. “Perhaps, but how will he behave when his father isn’t watching?”
Coira held up the veil. “You’d best stay close to me. No wandering off the trail when we stop to rest the horses, ye ken.”
Ailish wouldn’t mind wandering off the trail and stealing another kiss from Sir James, no matter how sinful the notion. Though in truth, she mustn’t lose her head. She was duty bound to her kin and he to the king. Once they reached the priory, they would part and most likely their paths would never again cross.
Coira started for the door. “Come, we must break our fast. It may be the last good meal we’ll have in days.”
When Ailish stepped into the great hall, she