MacAlister - Taming The Scotsman Part 17

"Aye, and you're not following where I'm going at all, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

Catarina nodded at Ewan. "Don't you think it odd that you feel jealous when I speak of wooing him?"

Nora stiffened at what she was implying.

"Nay," she lied.

Catarina laughed. "You like him, admit it."

"I do not," she said primly, picking up the ladle and returning to stir the stew. She didn't dare admit her feelings aloud to anyone. She could barely acknowledge them to herself. "He is entirely not the type of man who interests me."

Catarina looked aghast. "My lady, you set your sights too high. What more could you ask for in a man?"

"Refinement. A man who is decorous and mannerly. One who is-"

"Boring."

Nora gave her a peeved look. "How so?"

"Have you ever been around such men? They're mewling. Fussing over their hair, their clothes. They're more woman than man."

Catarina indicated Ewan with her head. "Give me a man who isn't afraid to get a little dirt on his hands any day. Think you your gentleman would have gone after you because you tarried in the forest? He would have feared for his own life and given no thought to yours.

"Do you think such a fanciful, prim man would have laughed off what we did to him? Or would he have demanded our lives for daring to muss his hair and clothes? Ewan has been a very good sport, all things considered. Any other man would have Viktor's head for what we've done. Instead Lord Ewan travels with us as a friend and equal."

"He is a bit odd, which confirms what I'm saying."

Catarina shook her head. "Sometimes, my lady, a person needs to look at someone only with her heart and not with her eyes."

Nora glanced over to where Ewan sat. The other men were joking and laughing. He sat with his face stern, his eyes troubled.

How she wished she could make him laugh. "He's always so sad."

Catarina concurred. "You know, my mother has a saying. A jovial man can be happy with anyone, but when a sad one laughs, he treasures the one who brings him the suns.h.i.+ne."

Nora thought about her words. There was truth to that. No one should live with the guilt Ewan did, especially when he hadn't been at fault.

Kieran had made the choice to end his life. Ewan had done nothing more than make the mistake of believing a lying tongue.

Nora had no real designs on Ewan romantically.

No matter how appealing he was or how well he kissed. At the end of the day, he wasn't what she wanted for a husband. But she wouldn't mind i helping him if she could.

No one deserved to be relegated to a cave without family or friend.

She had a few days with him. Mayhap a little reprieve would help him see that life was better when one partic.i.p.ated in it.

Chapter 6.

"What are you doing?" Ewan asked as Nora came up to him with a peculiar impish look on her face.

The look was so out of character that it made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

She handed him her lute. "You said you would teach me to play. I would like another lesson."

He took the instrument from her hand while she sat down next to him.

Closeto him.

He tried not to notice the happy glint in her eyes. The way tendrils of her blond hair fell around her face as she lowered her brat to watch him.

She possessed a great beauty. Beauty that made him burn for her.

Even now he could taste her innocent kiss, remember the sensation of her warm breath on his face.

The way she had looked when she had told him that he kissed well...

It set fire to his blood. His heart pounded, and he felt oddly dazed, as if her presence alone intoxicated him. Made him light-headed and happy.

No woman had ever made him feel like this.

Not even Isobail.

Isobail had only aroused his body. At the time he'd been too young and inexperienced to understand the difference between love and l.u.s.t.

What he felt for Nora was entirely different. He actually liked the la.s.s. Liked spending time with her, listening to her unique ideas and endless stories.

On some deep inner level, she soothed him.

He took her left hand and moved her fingers into position as he showed her the first three chords to his mother's favorite ballad.

"You're very good at teaching," Bavel said from across the fire.

"Yes, he is," Nora agreed.

Unused to praise, Ewan cleared his throat and showed her another bar. "Ateacher is only as good as his student."

She smiled up at him.

Enchanted, Ewan couldn't take his eyes off her face. Her skin was so smooth and perfect. Her eyes were clear and bright. Her lips, red and plump, were made for long, hot kisses. For driving a man wild with desire.

And she was definitely doing that to him now. He felt reckless and somehow free. Wanting her no matter the rational arguments.

Her presence took him past sanity and reason.

It took him straight into the realm of fantasy where anything was possible. Where there was no past to torment him. No future to fear.

There were only the two of them, and nothing else mattered.

He had to get away from her. Quickly, before any more of his will crumbled.

Moving back so that he was no longer near her and the danger she posed, Ewan nodded at her progress. "Just keep practicing those chords and I'll teach you more later."

While she strummed, Bavel went to fetch his own lute.

"You play your three chords, Nora," he said as he returned to his seat.

As she did so, Bavel composed music to go with hers.

Catarina came forward, clapping her hands in time to their song.

Ewan sat back, listening and watching.

Nora's amber eyes danced with happiness, and her cheeks were flushed. No doubt she was enjoying her small part in the harmony. The heightened color looked good in her face, making Ewan wonder what she would look like while fired with pa.s.sion.

He ground his teeth and looked away, unable to think those thoughts. Unwilling to let his mind ponder the delicacy he knew she would be.

Closing his eyes, he swore he could already taste the salty-sweet flavor of her skin. Feel her warm and welcoming in his arms...

What would it be like to lie with her?

Nora smiled at Bavel as she played. She'd never had a night like this one in her entire life. She was making music. Real music!

Ewan sat across from her, his presence electrifying while Catarina began to dance to the music they made. Pagan stayed to the side, his eyes never wavering from Catarina.

Lysander produced a drum that he used to mark the beats of Catarina's movements. Nora was impressed with Catarina's exotic and wild dance until she happened to glance over at Ewan, who watched the woman as if transfixed by her.

He reminded her of a hungry wolf watching over a hen it wanted to gobble up.

For the first time in her life, she felt a vicious stab of jealousy.

How dare Ewan look at Catarina like that! Like he wanted to kiss her or do something more.

He wasn't supposed to look ather .

Nor was he supposed to make Nora feel hot and nervous when he sat too near her. Yet he did all those things and more.

Needing to distract him from Catarina, Nora handed Ewan her lute. "Would you like to play?"

He shook his head. "Nay."

"Oh, come now," Viktor said. "Play a song if you're able."

"No, really," Ewan insisted. "I've never played before an audience."

"I should like to hear you play," Catarina said, her voice low and sultry.

Nora frowned at the suggestive tone.

"Very well then," Ewan said, setting the lute in his lap.

Now Nora truly was upset. He wouldn't play when she asked him to, but he played for Catarina?

He was an evil man!

The men began to play a fast-paced tune, one that allowed Catarina to dance like Salome. Only it wasn't Ewan's head the woman was after, Nora was sure of that.

Och now, how could Catarina be like this after their discussion? The woman was a Judas. A tall, dark-haired, beautiful Judas who might tempt Ewan away from...

Me.

The single syllable hung in her mind.

It was true. She liked Ewan. More than she should, and the thought of him with Catarina was enough to make her want to do something vicious to the woman.

But he didn't belong to her. He wasn't hers to control, and she had no right to tell him whom he could and couldn't stare after.

Whom he could desire...

Ewan could never be hers.

He wasn't what she wanted for a spouse.

Why, he'd be just like her father, belching about the table, always off and practicing with his sword.

Gathering his friends around for boisterous nights of boasting and drinking while they told and retold the same boring stories over and over again.

She'd spent her life watching her graceful, dainty mother being dogged by her much larger father, who would scarce let the poor woman out of his sight. He was always making loud demands for her mother's time. Wanting her to partake of his less than refined activities, such as watching him fight.

She couldn't count the times her father had whisked her mother up in his arms and carried her to their chambers while her mother protested, telling him she had duties to attend to.

And did he listen?

Nay, never.

While her mother preferred to speak softly, her father bellowed. Her mother loved poetry and music; her father liked caber tossing and stag hunting.

Nora had never seen two more mismatched people in her life. And while her father was a good man with a caring heart, he and her mother had nothing in common.

Why, they scarce spoke to each other. Her father demanded and her mother nodded.