Her whole body welcomed his kiss. As his tongue caressed the inside of her mouth her hunger for him grew until she ached. For a moment she tensed when he moved his hands up from her waist. Then he stroked the sides of her breasts with his fingers, making them swell and ache for the feel of his caress, and she trembled.
The strength of her reaction to such a light, not quite intimate, touch startled her and broke the spell his kiss had put her under. Annys became all too aware of their surroundings. The bower might be shaded, but they were not completely hidden away. Anyone, including Benet, could stumble upon their little tryst. Sharing heated kisses in the garden was not the way the lady of Glencullaich should behave.
Harcourt silently cursed when her soft, willing body abruptly grew tense. He wanted to hold her tight and bring back the fire he had tasted in her kiss but he knew that would be a mistake. What he desperately wanted to know was what had happened to douse her fire. He could then make certain it never happened again.
Unless it was some memory of him that turned her cold and cautious. It was an alarming thought. Harcourt could not think of anything he had done. He knew men could be complete lackwits about what would and would not upset a woman, but he prided himself on being more astute than most. The women in his family took pride in making sure their men, especially their sons, had some faint ability to see when they had done something that might offend or upset a woman before they went out into the world. If he did not find out what was turning her cold soon he was going to be useless in the coming fight. He would be too crippled with unsatisfied lust to even walk, he thought, and almost smiled at that nonsense. In truth, he would more likely be eager to kill as many of their enemy as possible.
“Annys? Is something wrong?” he asked when she pulled free of his embrace. “Ye look concerned.”
“Of a certain I am concerned. We are in the garden!” The look of confusion that passed over his handsome face made her want to hit him even though she knew most of her growing anger was aimed right at her own weakness. “Anyone could see us.”
Harcourt opened his mouth to argue that when a young male voice called out to her. A moment later young Gavin hurried over to them, having spotted them from the moment he had entered the garden. The chances of such a thing happening every time he sought to steal a kiss in the garden were very small, but one look at Annys’s face told him it would be wise if he kept that opinion to himself. She looked briefly horrified and embarrassed before she assumed that calm, sweet expression he had begun to call her m’lady face.
“The MacQueen laird has sent an answer,” Gavin said.
Seeing no missive in his hand, Annys asked, “Did ye put it in the ledger room ere ye came to find me?”
“Nay, he didnae write anything. He told me to tell you he needed to ponder his answer a wee bit and would send it on soon.”
“Ponder his answer?” Annys shook her head. “Thank ye, Gavin.” The moment the youth walked away, she looked at Harcourt. “What is there for the mon to ponder? I asked him to do something about the trouble his son was causing me. A simple aye or nay, or e’en a my son can do no wrong reply was all that was needed.”
Harcourt stood up, reached out to her in the hope of easing her agitation, and then tried not to wince when she smoothly moved out of the way. “He but delays, makes ye wait.”
“Wait for what?”
He shrugged. “For him to see for himself if what ye told him was true? To keep ye waiting and thinking he might help so that his son has more time to ready his next attack? All I am certain of is that the mon plays some game. I am just nay exactly sure which one.”
“Which do ye think is the most probable?”
“That he tries to make ye think ye could find help there and so will wait and do nothing else.”
“Thus, as you said, giving Sir Adam that time he needs to ready himself for his next strike.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to try to tamp down a rising anger, then looked at him again. “Weel, he will soon see that I am nay such a weak fool. We shall continue to do whate’er is needed to protect ourselves. And I hate this,” she added softly.
When he moved to take her into his arms, thinking only to comfort her, she evaded him again. “What is wrong? I but meant to try to ease the pain I heard in your voice when ye spoke.”
Annys studied his face, seeing no lie there. She doubted the embrace would have remained one of only comfort, however. She was not being vain in believing that he wanted her, was just not sure it was a want as whole-hearted as the one she had for him. As with too many men, Harcourt’s wanting probably sprang from just one part of him while hers was rooted so deep inside it was as much a part of her as breathing.