Heaven Forbids by Karen Ranney

Author:Karen Ranney [Ranney, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780821758670
Google: y88FAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0821758675
Goodreads: 799271
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 1998-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

They met on the battlements the following night. During that long day, each was careful

to maintain an illusion of normalcy; they dared not be in the same room, nor look at each other

across the courtyard.

Kathryn did not know if Hugh felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, or tainted honor. She

felt nothing of the sort, which in itself was a confession, was it not? She should have, perhaps,

been struck with remorse, or overpowered with shame, but there was only one feeling she could

recognize in the swirling emotions which crowded out contrition and culpability.

Joy.

She had always wondered what it was about men that made women laugh, then blush and

laugh again. What was it that caused such a satisfied look in Molly's eyes after being gone with

Patrick for an hour or more?

Some place within her had tingled into awareness at Hugh's presence, the very first time

she'd seen him. Some dormant, long held secret part of her had come unstuck and undone and

had recognized him, like two fishes meeting together in the midst of a deep, vast ocean. She

smiled at her own whimsy. Fishes, indeed. But, still the meaning was there right enough. She'd

known, even unconsciously, that this man offered something of himself which was recognized,

appreciated and longed for by something inside her. Was this how God wanted it to be, then? No

fear in the darkness, no groping, hurtful moves, no thrusting member inside a dry and torn

passage, but a sense, an awareness, a primeval knowing that took away all the fear, took away all

the doubts, took away all the pain. And made it right.

But it could not be right. He was married.

Even that knowledge did not stop her from wishing the day gone and the moon high.

Neither marriage vows nor the censure of the inhabitants of Nenverness, nor the stern visage of

God Himself could not have kept her from Hugh MacDonald on that night.

But storms have a way of coming and lightening was dangerous on the slippery

battlements. She skidded into his arms with laugher and joy and sweet wonderment, only to be

held for a brief, too brief, second, and then bundled up in a huge, warm, woolen cloak.

"Shh," he murmured as he grabbed her hand, pulling her through twisting corridors she'd

never seen, past a landing which led to stairs she'd never traveled, down through a steep passage

way and finally to the broad oak door which marked his workroom. He unlocked it with no

thought to sound, pushed her inside and locked it again. Lighting the wall sconce beside the

door, he turned and pulled the cloak free, and the two of them, drenched by rain, and lit by

something more solid and more frightening than simple lust looked at each other for a long,

silent moment.

The lantern cast shadows on his face and rain slicked hair. His shirt adhered to his flesh

in a wet embrace of linen. His thighs were molded by the material of his kilt, soaked, too. She

wondered how long he had waited for her. Wondered, too, how they had both obeyed a summons

neither had spoken of, how they had both known where and when.

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