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found everywhere he looked. “They wereconstructed when Adam did the additions, to support the weight ofthe castle. But you’re right, I can’t see how it didn’t all cave inupon itself a hundred years ago.”

A short passageway descended sharply awayfrom the cavern, and they came to a large wooden door bound iniron. Ian reached to pull it open for Hero and could not help butask, “Why, pray tell, would there be such a sturdy door here?”

“To keep the smugglers from invading thecastle, of course. No laird wants to die in his sleep from theattack of unsavories through his own cellar door,” Hero explainedwith a grin.

“Bloodthirsty, aren’t you?” Ian asked. Hecouldn’t help smiling in return as he looked about the lowest levelof the caves. A neat dozen inlets formed perfectly sized dockingareas for dories, and there were even spots that looked big enoughfor a small lugger. Of course, they also looked large enough for aViking drakkar to dock at, leaving anyone fleeing the ancientinvaders sadly at their mercy, should they have been discovered. “Asmuggler’s paradise, indeed. This is where you brought me then fora romantic interlude?”

“Who says I brought you down here for such apurpose?” Hero asked innocently. Ian just raised a brow until herinnocent look fell into a smile. “There seems to be nowhere elsewhere we might be without interruption.”

“My bedchamber?” he suggested. “Yours?”

Hero’s faced flooded with becoming color. “Isthat the sort of interlude you’ve been anticipating, my lord?”

“Is it not what you’ve been thinking of sincelast night?” Ian responded in disbelief. “Come here, Hero,” hecommanded, holding out his hand. She slid hers trustingly into it,and Ian pulled her into his arms. Lowering his head, he skimmed hislips across her cheek before whispering huskily in her ear, “I havewanted nothing more this day than to hold you in my arms, withoutinterruption from the servants, Jennings, Daphne, or even, Godbless him, your father. I want to be alone with you.”

“And so we are,” Hero murmured throatily,running her hands up his arms and over his shoulders.

“I can’t do all the things I’d like to downhere,” he admitted regretfully. “Shall we take this time to make alist of Cuilean’s many hiding places and plan for a midnightrendezvous?”

“Mmmm,” Hero sighed, stretching against him.“That sounds lovely.”

Ian nuzzled her neck, his lips and tongueplaying against her salty flesh. “You mentioned a pagoda, I think?”His lips tugged at her earlobe. “Or should it be the huntinglodge?”

“Yes, choose,” Hero murmured, sliding herfingers encouragingly into his hair and tilting her head to theside to allow him easier access. He took advantage, running hislips down her neck and nipping lightly, drawing gasps of delightfrom deep within her.

“I don’t know the way to either one,” Iansaid, pulling away to look down at her.

Teasing the peppery gray at his temples withone finger, Hero smiled. “I’m sure Jennings could tell you how toget there.”

“That would rather defeat the purpose, don’tyou think?” Ian’s hands moved from her hips to cup her breasts, andHero’s eyes widened in surprise before she pressed against him.

“Somewhere you know then,” she continuedbreathlessly, taking the initiative to imitate him by exploring himwith her mouth. She ran her teeth along the tendon of his neck,glorying in his low moan. “The brewhouse?”

“How about the icehouse?” he suggested in alow murmur.

“Brrr, too cold!” she told him before sheparted her lips and drew his flesh between them, sucking lightlyand licking the sting away.

With a growl his fingers dove into hercarefully styled coiffure, pulling her head back. His eyes weredark with desire. “I’ll keep you warm,” he promised fiercely thenproceeded to show her how.

A loud clang rang through the caves, thesound of metal meeting metal, and Ian pulled away, shaking his headwith disgust. “Incredible,” he said without the awe the word hadheld earlier. He ran his hands through his hair with palpablefrustration. “What could it possibly be now?”

“Ghosts?” Hero asked, giggling when Ian shother a dubious look. “No, truly, Cuilean is said to be haunted byseveral ghosts.”

Ian snorted and turned away, looking for thesource of the ominous knell. Hero followed along, slipping her handinto his, and he looked down at her tenderly. “Tell me more, mylittle historian.”

“I think you mock me,” she accused with apout.

I think I love you, Ian thought,barely biting back the words. “No, I am intrigued. Pleasecontinue.”

Wrinkling her nose, Hero said, “I was justgoing to say that Robert Burns wrote about the tales of haunting atCuilean in his poem ‘Halloween.’”

“Is that so? Do you know it?”

“‘Upon that night, when fairies light onCassilis Downans dance,’” Hero began, affecting a lightScottish burr, “‘or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, onsprightly coursers prance; or for Colean the route is ta’en,beneath the moon’s pale …’”

Hero’s recital came to an abrupt end, and Ianturned from watching her to see what she saw.

The thick iron door they had left openmoments before was closed.

Ian reached for the handle and Hero said,“It’s locked.”

“How do you know?” Ian tried the door anywaybut Hero’s words were true. Fruitlessly, he tugged a secondtime.

“It locks automatically when it closes … fora smuggler’s speedy retreat when pursued by the authorities,” sheexplained, wrapping her arms around herself.

“And of course the key is on the other side,”he said needlessly.

“Of course.” Hero looked about her now,seeing what she hadn’t before. The rains from the previous nighthad continued into the day. It was the reason they had beenengaging in parlor games that morning. By the time luncheon hadbeen served, the rain had been slapping furiously at the windows,the wind rattling the panes. Now, through the mouth of the cave,she could see the turbulent waters of the firth, feel the coldwinds that she had been immune to while basking in the warmth ofIan’s smile and affection.

It might have been June and the dayspreceding this one some of the hottest she’d ever experienced, butthe rain of the last day had brought with it a bite that was onlyamplified by the eternal chill of the caves. This was what made thedungeons such a dreaded place.

Despite that, a few moments, even an hour ormore, would cause no harm. Robert had told her that

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